I've only had one doctor ever tell me to exercise. Another once
told me my hamstrings were pulled tight like a hula-hoop around
a sperm whale and that I should stretch.
Exercise was the key to sending Crohns disease
back to where it came from, oblivion.
Yet it seemed nobody knew.
If i'm inactive, sitting on my rumpus counting peanuts and flicking
belly button lint into a wide garbage container, my health begins
a rapid decline. I lose weight and end up getting all my reading
done on the bowl.
My initial flare-up fifteen years ago came about this way. It was
a time of great change. Elementary school had finished, where
I was at the top of the social order of things. School work came
easy, life was easy. I knew high school was coming, I could sense
it's ominous shadow, lurking. Change was difficult to accept.
On top of that my parents thought it would be a good idea if
I started working, so they sent me into the deep darkness of
industrial Ontario, for reasons, to this day I'm still curious about.
bygones, I'm sure they had their reasons.
Even now I can still feel the stress building.
Thirteen was the age, the death of my innocence.
That summer began the symptoms.
Blood in my stool.
Stomach cramps, extreme weight loss ( I believe
I went down to ninety-one pounds at illness's peak, down from one hundred and twenty).
I went into denial, as did my family. I can remember rationalizing the
blood as only a child could.
It was the ketchup I ate, always the ketchup.
I went into a survival mode, quick. Dealing
with it like it was the natural order of things. Some people are
hypochondriacs, others like myself deny their illness until there incapable of
standing on their own.
So went life, so came about my understanding of loneliness.
I began an internal existence, going from one small goal to the next.
In high school I knew where every toilet was positioned,
it was always one class to go, then salvation. Getting off the
bus and sprinting home, visualizing the relief only the
toilet bowl could grant me. Dark days.
Three years this went by, scraping by school, not the
energy for anything. Its strange being so tired but
not being able to sleep because of the pain, a double edged
sword. Until finally having gone through two Gastroentologists,
mis-diagnosis after mis-diagnosis my body reached
its breaking point, ninety-pounds on a six-foot frame
is a skeletal figure. Into the hospital I went.
If it wasn't for the strength of my aunt to wake my family
up to the reality of the situation I would be dead.
Such is life. The only thing we can do is accept it, think about
what lessons were to be learned, apply them to your personal
philosophies, and motor on.
You will never get the credit you deserve, because no one but
you will ever know what you went through. You can become
bitter about the screw-ups by people whose
job it is simply to make you better no-matter what the cost.
Greed and indecision are powerful in the human psyche, accept
them, recognize them, avoid them, and think of an alternative.
Above all exercise. No matter how hard it is, move. Walk, use light
weights, push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups. Run, be physical. You must
take care of your body if you want it to work well. If you
have this annoying little problem, this leech in your gut, beat it
back with what you have readily available and at a low cost.
Fight! You've only one life to live. So Live it.
I love this article I just read about vitamin D and the beneficial
effect it has on people with Crohns disease.
what a brilliant idea, vitamins help disease. I always wondered
where all the money went from all these foundations the aid in
the research in disease. I believe I just got my answer.
I'm beginning to rant and I apologize. The topic is diet and exercise.
As I sit in the lazy boy at the infusion clinic where
I receive my Remicadetreatment, my attention
often drifts into the conversations patients
have with the medical practitioner.
As was the case in the doctors office
in London, Ontario, where the office was
almost like an open air classroom.
You couldn't help but hear everything each
patient was rapping about.
I dreaded going into that office, in the basement of
St. Joseph's Health Care Hospital.
People it seems in my observations end up
relying on the drugs, thinking
it a quick fix. Take this pill and your sure to be
better within such and such a time.
If it doesn't work, there will be surgery.
Losing a body part was enough
motivation for me to do anything in my
power to find an alternative.
And so I fought through the pain, got on
my bike and starting to peddle.
It was hard as hell. Harder then anything
I ever had to do, but I felt
better. I met this kid who had diabetes,
who did the same thing.
It's been proven that through a extremely
It's been proven that through a extremely
intense work-out regime.
"It almost has to become your life" he told me.
You can beat diabetes.
No matter how hard it is, it works.
I took this idea and made it apart of my life.
I cut out all the stress I could, changed my diet.
No fast food, fried foods, milk ( I drink soy, it's
weird at first, you get used to it like anything.)
Take a multi-vitamin, Vitamin D,
Cod Liver Oil, Raisin Bran in the morning
for a more solid movement.
Work out an hour a day, whatever it may be,
weights, walking, running, biking, making love.
What a surprise I beat my most recent flare-up in record
time.
I believe I only got sick again because of the extremely high stress level
I put myself through. A youthful mistake, I won't make again.
My point is, you can't rely on the drugs,
I can't emphasize that enough.
Your goal should be to get off all the medication.
I did it before and
it was one of the best days in my life. Waking up
looking at the shelf
where all the pill bottles sat, and seeing nothing.
Having to do nothing.
Feeling healthy, feeling normal.
Find your own way friends.
How many people can you really trust in
the world besides yourself.
Some people are lucky and there are many,
others, like myself, can count them on one hand.
Listen to your body,
and you will not stray from the healing path.
...gatsby~
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