#i’m glad it’s not ulcers though like my doc was worried it might be that which is why he had me do tests

[gender-euphowrya]

apparently my liver is super fucking fat ugh

[dehfics]

Miracles (Connor Murphy x Reader)

Warnings: none 

Requested: “Can you write a Connor Murphy imagine about him and the reader getting their first dog together?” OF COURSE

A/N: I gave this request an instigating event so that I was able to make it into a fic. So, I hope you enjoy it! Requests are always open my loves. 

Word Count: 1,151

Moving to New York was a big deal for you. Leaving your family to go to school in a whole new state was a scary dilemma. The only person to keep you company was your boyfriend, Connor Murphy. But even some days he had to leave for work and you were left alone in your apartment. To counteract this, the two of you made the decision to become puppy parents. Yes, you and Connor adopted an adorable baby English Bulldog.

At first, Connor refused the idea of getting a pet. Even though you guys didn’t necessarily have the space or money for a dog, Connor saw how happy you were and eventually complied. When the day finally came to bring your little girl home, you couldn’t contain your excitement. There was only one worry in the back of your mind--you guys had been informed that the puppy you were adopting was the runt of the litter. You and Connor would love her no matter what, but you were scared that the little baby would have major health problems.

While Connor was away at the pet store picking Daisy (the name you two decided on) up, you were at home making sure everything was perfect upon her arrival. You set up her bed, water and food bowls, cage, and even set out little outfits for her. Hearing her little paws prance and jump around outside your door, you couldn’t hold back your excitement to see her. Opening the door, Connor let Daisy off of her leash and she ran over into your lap. This had to have been the cutest creature that you had ever laid your eyes on. So much so that you swore to never let go of her tiny frame.

That would be a problem, you soon found out as Connor explained. The vet had told him that Daisy was the smallest runt that he’d ever seen. But that was the least of his worries, she also had some major health complications as well. Heart disease, corneal ulcers, and hypothyroidism were just some of the issues that she had to deal with. Connor’s voice became condescending whenever he informed you that Daisy was only expected to live another six months.  

Nonetheless, you decided to keep her. Although you knew it wouldn’t be easy, it’s what you wanted. For the rest of the night, you and your boyfriend tended to every whine that came from Daisy.

About a month after introducing Daisy into your home, you noticed that she wasn’t herself. She became very sluggish, refused to eat, and barely moved throughout the day. This made you fear the worst, so you called Connor and told him to meet you at the veterinarian's office, which was where you were headed.

Upon arrival, you got to see the doctor right away. Staying in the waiting area, you couldn’t help but to think what could be wrong. Maybe it was just a fluke, maybe you were just overreacting, maybe there was something terribly wrong. You drowned out the noise of the waiting room with your thoughts.

All of a sudden, the front doors open and you hear Connor’s voice.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. They’re running tests as we speak.” Just as you mentioned that, the vet came out from behind the closed door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Murphy? I have your test results.” Too nervous to correct the doctor’s mistake, you and Connor remained silent to hear the news.

“Although her survival rate was low, she beat the odds. I think little Daisy might live through this scare.” The both of you breathed a sigh of relief in unison.

“But, she is still very very sick. It’s a good thing you caught her symptoms early because if they would’ve went undetected for another 24 hours, things wouldn’t be looking so optimistic.”

‘Thank you so much, Doctor!” You exclaimed.

“I’m not finished just yet. By saying that, we’re going to have to perform surgery for her pulmonary stenosis. Daisy has a heart valve that hasn’t opened up all the way. But the downside of the surgery is that it will cost upwards of $3,000.” The vet’s face looked grim and the meeting between the three of you fell silent. That was until Connor spoke up.

“We’ll do it. She’s our little princess and she keeps y/n and I glued together, doesn’t she?” He asked you, looking for reassurance. You were on board too, even though it would take years to pay off.

“Will she be healthy again?” You questioned the vet.

“We’ve been successful while performing these surgeries in the past, so I can tell you that she will definitely live a long and healthy life if all goes well.”

“Okay,” You look up at Connor, “Just get her in as soon as possible.”

Looking at his calendar, the veterinarian spoke, “Actually, we can perform emergency surgery right now. I’m not booked for another appointment in about four hours, would that work for the both of you?”

“Of course! Yes! Please!” You spurted out with no hesitation. Connor nodded in agreement.

“Okay, well I’ll get everything set up. You can either stay here or go home and wait, it might take a couple of hours.”

“We’ll stay.” You and Connor said at the exact same time.

“I’ll get started.” And with that, two nurses led the doctor into the operating room. The wait seemed to take years, or at least that’s what it felt like to you.

Connor was almost if not more worried than you were. As the two of you sat in the waiting chairs, you began to drift off. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Y/n, Y/n, wake up.” Connor whispered softly to you. You awoke with a jump, totally forgetting what you had been doing previously.

“She’s out of surgery and the doctor said that we could see her.” You agreed and headed over to the kennel that Daisy was asleep in. Even though she was still knocked out from the anesthesia, you were glad that she made it out of surgery without a hitch.

“We’ll have to keep little Daisy here for a couple of days, but other than that, her prognosis looks good.” The vet said with a smile. You rejoiced with Connor, kissing him on the cheek.

“We can’t thank you enough, Doc!”

4 years later…

“Daisy! Stop eating the baby’s food!” You shooed the dog away from your toddler’s chair, “We can’t her her eating your food, now can we?” You asked your child, not expecting a legitimate answer.

“Daisy!” Your exuberant two-year-old shouted.

“Connor, she said Daisy’s name!” You exclaimed to your husband. By saying that, you couldn’t help but reflect on how lucky you were. With the perfect husband, baby, and dog, you couldn’t ask for any more miracles.  

[codywalzel]

The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles... How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered... Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision….  “Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.”  Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”... They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now.  The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin--” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.”  In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai--”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel. In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

[freelancer-chronicles]

It’s a poem, so if course it had to rhyme. 

(it seems really long but that’s just the formatting)

The ice flowers are oozing, snow blows in your ear;

Now javelins are racing—look! Icetide is here!

The time for Frost Fellow to bring gifts draws near.

So it’s time to assess: have you been good this year?

Now, don’t try to fudge it, for as you all know

Frost Fellow has got a small army in tow;

A veritable herd of small korox in boxes,

Observing from mantles and peeking through locks-es.

“Why korox? Why boxes?” you’ve come here to ask;

this story is here to accomplish that task.

The tale, it begins several Icetides ago,

when a small anrisaur took a fall in the snow…

Young Kogin the korox sat next to her friend

the also-young Ardek, in bed, on the mend.

“My leg hurts. I’m frightened and feeling so blue,”

the anrisaur said. “And now what will I do?”

“My leg is all broken and I cannot walk

to go see Frost Fellow and have a good talk

about Icetide presents. I’ve been good all year!

But now I won’t get that toy javelin, I fear.”

“You HAVE been so good this year,” Kogin replied

“You listened at school, and I don’t think you’ve lied.

When I played with that human called Sayrna who came

and Mama got mad—why, you took half the blame!”

“You’re a very good friend, helped me keep out of trouble

I’ll go find Frost Fellow for you on the double!”

Then Kogin went home, packed a bag, told her mum:

“I’m off to find Frost Fellow.” “Right, dear. Have fun.”

Kogin picked a direction and set off to find

the Frost-man she could talk with to ease her friend’s mind.

Through the valleys and fields, she roamed in light snow

Until things looked familiar. She thought, Oh, I know!

This town is called Pontiex; I am no fool—

that sentry post was in a book at my school.

Some cheery bright spots of pink peeked through the snow.

Oh, look at those flowers! They taste good, I know.

She then saw a lady who picked the blooms there.

Are these flowers hers? I will ask if she’ll share.

“Great gazicks! A korox!” the tall woman cried.

“Don’t eat me! I promise I’ll go back inside!”

“How silly,” said Kogin “I only eat plants”

“like those flowers you hold; may I have some, perchance?”

“Of course," said the lady, “I’ve always got more.

At the end of the day when I close up my store

"I take any extras, like these blooms right here

and give them to elders who might need some cheer.”

“How lovely,” said Kogin, “I’ll only take one

so you’ll have enough when your workday is done.

"By the way, do you know—does Frost Fellow live near?”

The lady said, “No, haven’t seen him ’round here.”

“Well, thanks for the flower! I’ll be on my way.

When I find Frost Fellow, I’ll be sure to say

how you give away flowers—I hope you don’t mind.

He really should give gifts to someone so kind.”

Kogin trotted away with the bloom in her mouth

back out to the trail: should she go north or south?

She roamed and she roamed till she heard a voice call:

“Oy, what are you doin’ outside of the wall?”

A Freelancer glared at a frightened young child

outside of the Fort Tarsis walls, in the wild.

This made Kogin worried.  He really sounds mad.

And, oh! There’s a wolven—that’s probably bad.

“Hey, wolven!” she called, “What are you doing here?”

The wolven looked at her, then raced off in fear.

“Oh, crap! It’s a korox!” the Freelancer cried.

“Much worse than a wolven. Let’s get back inside!”

With a sigh, Kogin said, “I am nothing to fear;

I just want to know if Frost Fellow lives near?”

“You’re safe!" said the Freelancer, grabbing the child.

“This beast shall not hurt you, this creature so wild!”

As the Freelancer flung the child over his shoulder,

she yelled, “I think Frost Fellow lives where it’s colder!”

Makes sense, Kogin mused as they hurried away.

But I hoped I’d find Frost Fellow sometime today.

Well, when I do see him, I’ll sure let him know,

Kogin thought as she headed back out through the snow,

that girl tried to help me, although she felt scared.

The lancer helped her, though he seemed unprepared

to chase out the wolven (good thing I was swift!).

Frost Fellow should know that they each need a gift.

Kogin set off again, and soon walked in deep snow.

Cold wind began howling and started to blow.

She plodded along and was starting to mope

when she spotted a trail sign that read “To Third Hope”

“How hopeful,” she said with a sigh of relief

that was short-lived as she heard a man yell, “Stop! Thief!”

What now? Kogin thought as she felt the ground shake.

Explosions lit up as men ran in their wake.

“Be careful, you!” snarled one, “That stuff will explode!

If we let that coolant blow up on the road,

we stole it for nothing. Some outlaw you are.”

Stealing! thought Kogin, Well, you won’t get far!

“You give that right back!” Kogin yelled as she ran.

The first outlaw saw her and shrieked, “Screw the plan!”

“That korox is charging! Just run—get away!”

“Good, go!” Kogin snorted. “No stealing today!”

She heard a new voice drifting through the tall trees,

and held still and listened, despite the cold breeze.

“Hey, look—there’s the coolant. Where’s the gang, do you know?”

“Who cares?” said a man. “Let’s just get it and go.”

The others were scared, Kogin thought, feeling blue.

So she snuck off, not wanting to scare these folks, too.

But she’d tell Frost Fellow those outlaws weren’t nice;

no presents for them—shouldn’t even think twice.

But what if she never found Frost Fellow’s home?

Kogin frowned as she once again started to roam.

I might have been looking for nothing, she sighed.

A single tear froze to her cheek as she cried.

Kogin wandered and searched for more hours and days,

when she finally spotted a light in the haze!

She could smell peppermint and some tasty warm stew.

She then spotted a cabin, and closer she drew.

She peeked through the window, and what did she see?

Frost Fellow himself, as he sat sipping tea!

“Hello!” called out Kogin, “And please don’t be scared!

I’m just a small korox with news to be shared!”

Frost Fellow appeared at the door with a smile.

“Of course, you’re young Kogin—I’ve known you a while.

Your tusks and your toesies, so cold, they must be.

Would you like to come in for some hot flower tea?”

“Yes, thank you!” she said “I’m so happy you’re here!

Young Ardek, my friend, can’t come see you this year,

for he’s broken his leg—but he’s still been so good.

And so have the people I met in the wood!"

So she sipped and she told him of all that she’d seen,

the folks who were good and the folks who were mean.

Frost Fellow heard everything she had to say,

but something seemed wrong. “Sir, do you feel okay?”

“Well,” Frost Fellow said, “I’ll just cut to the chase.

My doc says I’m working at too fast a pace.

I do have a relic from long, long ago

that helps me deliver my gifts through the snow.

For one night a year, I can handle that mess.

It’s the rest of the year that has got me all stressed.

Tracking who’s bad and who’s good, do you see?

I’m not near as young now as I used to be.

But you, my dear korox, are helpful and strong!

Just look at the info that you’ve brought along

on the people of Mirrus you’ve met on your way.

Just think! You could do that all night and all day!”

“So I’d just sit and watch till the people get sleepy?”

Kogin said with a frown, “Isn’t that a bit creepy?

Frost Fellow looked shocked. “That’s a harsh allegation.

They know I won’t sell or share their information.”

“That isn’t the point," Kogin said. “I should go.

My mum might be worried I’m lost in the snow.

And I’m only a kid, just one korox, you see.

It’s too bad that there aren’t several million of me.”

“THAT’S IT!” yelled Frost Fellow. “My dear, you’re a star!

If my special relic gets me near and far,

why can’t it make millions and millions of you?

One korox per household—yes, yes! That will do!”

He let out a breath and he smiled. “Now let’s see…

You’ve already done some of my job for me!

I’ll give special presents to those that you met—

except for those outlaws. No gifts for them yet.

Ah, here’s a new javelin toy—will it do?”

“Oh, yes!” Kogin said, “Ardek really likes blue.

You already knew that!” “Yes, I have my ways,

but you had to be sure, so you traveled for days.

Your heart is so big, and your friendship is true.

So I’m making a gift that is special like you.”

Frost Fellow walked into a room in the back;

there were some low rumbles, and then a loud CRACK.

He soon strolled back in (some hair burned off his hand)

and held out a globe of clear glass on a stand.

Inside, snowflakes danced around one tiny row

of blooms in a meadow all covered with snow.

“With help from my relic, it’s Icetide in here;

to make you ice flowers to snack on all year”

“Oh, thank you!” said Kogin as she smacked her lip.

“A delicious reminder of you and my trip!”

Frost Fellow helped Kogin to pack up her load

and brand-new ice flowers to munch on the road.

“I’m so glad you found me, when I was so blue.

If I’m spared an ulcer, I owe that to you!”

Kogin made her way home, and her mum kissed her cheeks,

while Frost Fellow worked with his relic for weeks.

After trial and error (and a few nasty shock-ses),

he’d made lots of korox and packed them in boxes.

Now one of these korox is home safe with you,

watching and listening to all that you do.

So stay in the walls, do your chores; if you blow it,

your very own korox will certainly know it.

Special thanks to the Anthem writers, for your support; Derek Watts, for adorable wee korox art; Carlo Lynch, for your patience; Ryan Cormier, for your eagle editing eyes; and Patrick Weekes, for shared nitpickiness about rhyme schemes

[bloodbrainblog-blog]

Living With Ulcerative Colitis: Onset, Diagnosis, and Goals

The Onset: What It Was Like Developing Ulcerative Colitis

Disclaimer: I will be talking open and honestly about my bowel movements, colon, and other not-so-fun symptoms of uclerative colitis (UC). If you think that is inappropriate or do not want the following information invading your brain, please leave this site. You have been warned.

Early this February, I turned into a stink bomb, but the prank was on me. The excessive smelly gas, which I shrugged off, only got worse. At first, the doctor thought it might be the Norovirus, but my ass was in for surprise (literally)!

After a week or so of gas, the bathroom became my linoleum hell. Without a minutes notice, a sudden heaviness and cramping in my lower abdomen sent me running to the bathroom. The feeling of urgency is of complete uncertainty and doubt. It’s like having an active volcano irrupting inside your body. You feel like you could blow at any moment. “Can I make it? Can I make it?” The question races through your mind and body like a hell-bent mantra.

Confined in the small stall, pushing my hands against the walls, I battled with the cramping and tried to breathe just so something would come out and give me relief. When the cramping was at its peak, I would bring my snapback to the bathroom with me just so I could grunt into it in a cathartic attempt to release the agony. But I had to breathe and stay calm unless I wanted to make it worse, but it was hard. The stools were loose, bloody, mucousy, and left me smelling like rotten eggs. I would often be in the bathroom for 15 minutes to a half an hour, just waiting to see if I was done. I could easily stand up and have to go again in the time it takes to wash your hands. So I sat and waited for the heaviness and cramps to recede. This happened anywhere from 10 to 20 times a day, and I would wake up 4-5 times in the middle of the night with severe symptoms.

You learn to map out the nearest restrooms quickly when you have urgency problems. You think about your proximity, the size of the bathroom, and the possibility that it’s occupied. And sometimes you can’t make it, so you carry underwear and toilet paper with you. Or sometimes you wake up with urgency so agonizing you renovate your one bedroom home into a two bathroom home by putting a trash bag inside of a bucket. Yup, I’ve had to shit into a bucket. It was embarrassing at first, but in the end, it was a life-saver. I didn’t have to worry about the agonizing sprint to the bathroom and risk it being occupied. It also probably saved me a lot of boxer-briefs.

My symptoms affected my life majorly in two domains: school and work. I missed a couple weeks of classes during my first flare up. I considered withdrawing for the semester so I could get healthy and not mess up my grades as an honors student. That said, I am still in school, learning to manage. As for work, I was fired. I failed to call in early enough on the days that I missed. I was hopeful I could make it in even though that wasn’t the case. 

At this point, I didn’t know what’s wrong with me, and I feared the worse: cancer or IBD.

The Diagnosis: What’s Up Doc?

The doctors thought it was nothing but a virus. After all, ‘tis the season. But after a week trying to tough it out, it didn’t go away. Fast forward through two blood tests and a stool test and the results came back negative. At this point, I’m losing weight and begin to feel very weak. Most of my time was spent watching Netflix and going to the bathroom. It was hard to sustain my attention on anything that required more energy. The stagnation, weight loss, and dehydration caused my body began to like it was sinking. I was tired most of the day and the joints in my ankles, wrists, and back became sore.

Myself, my doctor, and my family didn’t want to see me suffer any longer. My doc prescribed me antibiotics and hyoscyamine just in case it was an infection that the tests missed. However, a few days into the antibiotics, I felt little to no change. Thankfully she has a good relationship with our local gastroenterologist and expedited a colonoscopy, which I head within a few days of making the call. This is about three weeks deep into the onset of my symptoms.

Having colonoscopy was not an exciting prospect, but I knew it was necessary. Moaning in disgust as I drank the laxatives, I just wanted it to all be over. Soon enough it was. As the sedative ran through my body, my tingling hands and feet relaxed and my anxiety was washed away. I woke up a couple times yelling in pain. “Stop moaning and breathe or else you will make it worse,” the doctor said to me in a loud and authoritative voice. Before I knew it, I woke up in the recovery room wondering if I even had a procedure. After the haze began to lift, so the did the uncertainty.

Three days later I got a call from the doctor’s nurse. I was eager to hear what she has to say. At this point, I had been expecting Crohns, but ultimately, I was still in limbo as to what was happening. She tells me I have colitis, more specifically, ulcerative colitis. The clouds parted. The sun was shining. It’s a weird feeling to be happy after being diagnosed. But it’s because I finally got some clarity. Finally, I could start problem-solving and look at treatment options. The relief is short-lived and the realization that I have a chronic illness began to sink in.

I still have yet to meet with the doctor who performed my colonoscopy to talk about the diagnosis, but I will in a week from today. After we talk, It’s likely that I’ll post an update with more details. He did prescribe me Lialda, which I am somewhat hesitant about taking but will try.

From the colonoscopy review, it seems like my UC is not affecting my whole colon. It was a relief too that the pictures of the scope did not look nearly as bad as the ones on Google Images. Even so, I don’t how this would develop moving forward if I hadn’t addressed this problem as early as I did. I’m glad I had stellar doctors and the incredible support from my loving family. I probably wouldn’t be as happy and healthy without them. 

Want to know more about UC is, scientifically? Watch this video.

The Goal: Getting Serious About Diet, Exercise, and Mental Health and Reaching Full Remission

After regaining some energy a week after my first flare up, my bowel movements have become less severe. I have less abdominal pain, they’re not as loose, and there’s not as much blood. I go on average about five times a day, usually in the morning and early afternoon, and I no longer wake up at night with urgency issues.

I’ve gotten back my energy since the first flare up, and it has motivated me to consider what I need to do to be healthy. I have been an active person for quite some time, working out casually about three times a week: running, rock climbing, and doing kinesthetics. I also used to meditate on a daily to weekly basis for about four years, but I began to slip early this semester.

Now, more than ever, I want to challenge myself to be intentional about my health on a daily basis. I feel like being healthy is the most important thing I can do for myself and for the people I love and want to be a role model for. And most of all, I want to do as much as I can to ease the symptoms of my UC in attempt to arrive at remission.

In lieu of my condition and recovered intentions, I’ve started a health journal where I’ll be keeping track of my diet, workouts, meditations, and UC symptoms. My fitness journey will include three main dimensions (for now, as I made this myself based on my own research).:

Veganism: I’ve changed my vegetarian diet, which included a lot of greasy foods and dairy products, to a high carb vegan diet. I’m actually really excited about this. After reading testimonials on the internet about the vegan diet being able to put UC in full remission, I was sold on trying it for myself. They have been able to not rely on pills as well, which is also a point I would like to reach.

Exercise: I’m also going to hold myself to working out five days a week, keeping close track of my progress so that I can become more fit than ever before. This means climbing harder routes, running farther and faster, building kinesthetic endurance, and gaining more muscle mass.

Meditation:  I’m going to hold myself to meditating every single day before bed for at least 10 minutes. From past experience, I know how important it is to be in tune with yourself. It’s easy in our busy lives to ignore the problems we’re dealing with. The unattended mind and body can turn on you and influence you in ways you're unaware of. It’s time I get back into exercise my muscles of attention, acceptance, understanding, and love. It’s time feel whole again.

This all begins today (3/6/2017). Every week, on Monday, I plan on posting on my blog how my week went, how I’m doing on my goals, and how my UC is acting or if it’s in remission. This should hold me accountable and keep my priorities straight. If the updates start to get boring, and if nothing much is changing, I will do short updates or write about something else that relates to health, fitness, or UC.

I know there will probably be a lot of ups and downs, as UC is considered a chronic condition. I know I will have buckle in for the ride and do my best to adapt no matter what happens. I accept the fact that I currently have this condition, and it might not go away, but ultimately, I would like to reach full, or close to full, remission. I’m not sure if this is a lofty goal or not, as I might just be feeling more hope after surviving my first flare up, but it motivates me. At the very least, I think it’s important to try. I want to live as healthy and happy of a life as possible, and whether that is with UC or not, I think that’s a good goal. As for what actually happens, only time will tell.