Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My First Hospitalization

So my family got back to Ohio from our glorious Thanksgiving vacation and my problems got worse. I had all of the symptoms from Florida along with developing some new ones. The biggest problem that arose was that of me living in the bathroom. I could have put a television in there and had my food brought to me and I would've been fine. I would wake up 3-4 times a night having to use the bathroom. And I'm not talking about your simple wake up, use the bathroom, turn the light off and go back to bed type bathroom breaks. I would wake up and spend 15 minutes on the toilet. This went on for weeks. I can't tell you how much sleep I lost because of this. I probably spent more time at night on the toilet than I did laying in bed. The last straw was when I came home from school and told my mom that my bottom was hurting me and I couldn't sit down because of it. After hearing this my mother took me to my pediatrician who examined me and told me I need to go to the emergency room immediately.

We arrived at the E.R. and after sitting in the waiting room for an eternity, I was finally called back. We told the doctor all of my symptoms, he examined me and left the room. Another doctor came in and did the same thing. Honestly, I would have to say that by the end of that day, I probably had 5 different doctors examine my rectum and put their finger what seemed like up into my stomach! It was not an experience I wanted to have. Every time a doctor came in it was the same thing. "Will you please lay on your side and bring your legs up to your chest?" I was asked that so many times that I just stayed in that position in my room so the doctors could get it done and over with.

After all of this, the doctors started throwing medical terminology at us. "We think your son has a rectal fissure most likely from him repeatedly going to the bathroom." Neither me nor my mom knew what he meant really. So he pretty much said that it was a tear in the tissue inside of my rectum. They said that this type of thing was treatable, but they weren't 100% certain that this was the correct diagnosis. Because of this they admitted me into the hospital for more tests to figure out exactly what was wrong. This was just the beginning of my stay at the hospital. We thought that it would be a quick diagnosis and given medicine then sent home. Boy were we all wrong.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

How It All Started....

A person would think that a 9 year old child going on a vacation to Orlando and Daytona Beach over Thanksgiving Break would be happy and excited. Someone would think that a kid finding out he is going to Disney World would be jumping up and down screaming and yelling with excitement. That's what any normal kid would be doing at least. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't a normal kid at that time.

When I was 9, my older brother was going to be play in a football tournament down in Florida. Everyone from his team was going to spend their Thanksgiving break down in Florida where it was nice and warm; not in chilly Cincinnati, Ohio. The plan was that a bunch of families would go down a few days before the tournament and go to Disney World then make the short drive over to Daytona Beach for the tournament. Everyone was excited, but me. You see, during this time, I had started developing some weird symptoms. I wasn't eating. I was so pale that I could have walked out as myself on Halloween without any make-up or a costume and passed as Casper. I wouldn't have been the friendly ghost though. I was so irritable that any little thing got me so mad that I would yell. I even developed a nickname from one of my brother's friends that came from a kid's tv show. Matt the Grouch. The only thing missing was that I didn't live in a garbage can on Sesame Street. Instead, I pretty much lived in a bed.

So how did I like Disney World for the first time? Well, I rode one ride there, Space Mountain. I walked on the ride unhappy and walked off unhappy. Partly because I hated roller coasters as a kid, but also because I was extremely sick. I just moped around the park while everyone else had a good time. They all wanted to go on Pirates of the Caribbean and I wanted to go to the hotel to a nice cozy bed. Pretty sad huh?

The whole trip was a disaster. I didn't have any fun. I didn't swim or go to the beach. All I did was sleep and be mean to everyone. To be honest, I can't recall a single moment during that trip that I was happy in. I look at pictures that were taken during that trip and it's stunning how bad I looked. I always tell my mom that I am surprised no one thought I was abused because of how thin and pale I was. It was that noticeable. That's how it all began. Things started changing for the worse there and they followed me back to Ohio.

My first signs and symptoms....
-Sleeping a large amount of time.
-Little to no appetite.
-Constant stomach pain.
-Change in complexion.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

My First Post

Hello everyone! I'm Matt. I am a college student at the University of Cincinnati and have been living with Crohn's Disease since I was 9 years old. That's over 12 years of living with something that not many people know about. This blog is intended help all of those people who suffer from IBD or IBS by telling them my story about how I manage my disease and keep it under control. Feel free to email me with any of your feedback or questions.