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Ploptober Musings

Isn't it cute when animals poop? 

It's been a minute since my last post, thanks in part to full-time job, full-time school and part-time tv watching. Time for an update! I turned 30. It's astounding to think I've had IBD for 18 years (22 if you count when I began having symptoms but was never diagnosed). Two of my besties got me an enormous blueberry crumble for my birthday. It was delicious, but also turned my shit neon green which gave me a good scare the next day. Still, worth it.

I had a pretty challenging summer - my grandmother had open heart surgery (she's fine), my brother and I were in a three car collision (we're fine) and one of my beloved aunts passed away from lung cancer (not so fine). I spent a fair amount of time contemplating mortality, moreso than usual (I'm a pretty morbid person).  I was also reading Jim Beaver's memoir Life's That Way which chronicles his wife's losing battle with cancer and left me bawling on more than one occasion, but it was very cathartic and surprisingly uplifting. Check it out if you or a loved-one is facing terminal illness, or if you just happen to have mortality on the mind.

I had a few bouts of depression and anxiety here and there, especially after the car accident. J and I took a trip to the Poconos about two weeks after the fact, and I spent most of the three-hour drive clutching the "oh shit" handle above the passenger side door, and had a killer migraine by the time we arrived at our destination. But this all passed, as most bad things do, and come September I was back in classes and happily distracted by work.

Gut-wise I could be doing a smidge better. I've been really, really bad about caffeine intake, and have snuck in a little booze here and there. This wouldn't be so risky if I weren't also on a lower dose of Imuran than usual. My white cell count is not what it should be, so I've gone from 175mg to 100mg per day. There's been blood in the toilet here and there, but apparently my blood work is still less than ideal, so I'll stay at 100mg and start taking my cortifoam twice a day again. (I've been using it once daily for a few months now.) I'm pooping more than usual. I'd say I run the tap at the office bathroom nine times out of ten in an attempt to drown out my trumpeting anus, but I fear running the water might just be a placebo, as I can still hear co-workers talking and typing from my position on the pot and it stands to reason they can hear me farting over the water. Hopefully they all understand this sacred wisdom: Everybody Poops.

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