Let's Talk About Brains

So perhaps you've already read about the angry NYU student who very publicly flipped her lid by cc'ing her entire department on a thread of diversely fonted e-mails. It's brought up a lot of questions about her mental state, political leanings and overall sense of entitlement. A lot of commentors on the blogs that have covered this story have diagnosed the student in question as being bi-polar or schizophrenic. Some who claim to know her dismiss this and say she's not "crazy" at all, just annoying. While I have all sorts of opinions on this, the reason I'm posting about it here is this- who says mental illness has to be a grand diagnosis? I know I've had bouts of anxiety or depression that are more akin to a cold than acute inflammation, and I think these short-term cases of the head-sicks are far more common than typically addressed. I don't mean to imply that mental health issues just come and go or magically disappear, rather that you don't have to be clinically insane or identify as "crazy" to suffer from an episode of mental illness.

A personal anecdote: It's no secret that I take celexa to deal with my anxiety. I tried therapy a few times, and never found the right doctor so, as a college student short on time and in desperate need of a solution, I turned to meds. A few years ago I tried to come off of it, and I became irritable, paranoid and somehow both self-deprecating yet self-aggrandizing. In this time I also happened to try the Nuva Ring for birth control and it made me borderline suicidal. I spent two weeks out of every month thinking about slitting my wrists which is, hands down, the last thing I would ever do to myself. I've never been a cutter and, with the exception of my period, I typically feel faint when I see my own blood. The moment of truth came for me when I was in Florida on a family vacation and I couldn't stop crying when I was sitting on a private beach on a beautiful day. Thankfully I know myself well enough that I was able to say "Okay, this is not me, this is not right, this ring has to come out." I had an awesomely blunt conversation about it with my mother on our flight back, with my poor little brother stuck in the middle seat between us. I've never seen him squirm so much in his life. Ha!

But removing the ring wasn't enough. Although it relieved the more serious symptoms of depression and I no longer found myself thinking about wrist-slitting, I still felt miserable and angry almost all of the time. I had angry delusions of storming-out on my then-job, as if I'd be acting out in the name of the little guy like a corporate martyr.  I usually managed to direct these emotions and only act on them when it came to bitching out my cable company, but that's not to say I didn't also do stupid shit I'm not proud of. I've burned a fair amount of bridges thanks to lapses in my mental health, and clearly I'm not alone. I met with my doctor, went back on my meds, and have been significantly happier since (although I do hope to someday give them up, perhaps when I'm living somewhere less miserable than NYC).

So, going back to this NYU student. Although I've linked to the story, I'm hesitant to go into it in-depth or even include her name here. She may very well be mentally sound and deserve all of the criticism she is getting (she does paint a pretty unflattering picture of herself) but if she is indeed suffering from a wave of mental imbalance then I feel kind of terrible for her. Although she certainly seems to want the attention, she might look back in a year and say "Oh God I wish I knew then that I was making a huge mistake." The Internet is an amazing thing, but it can do a hell of a lot of damage to your reputation and, when mentally ill, even in brief spurts, it can be one of your worst enemies.

**Update** Here's a much more expansive piece on attitudes towards depression that is a worthwhile read and offers some great advice. Thanks to Catherine for writing about her experiences so openly!


Image source: physorg.com

Let's Talk About the "Other" Hole

At the risk of alienating some of my male readers, it's time to talk about the 'gina.  Specifically why I hate having one, and what it's like to gush from two holes at the same time.  I hope you're not eating while reading this.

I've always noticed a correlation between my monthly "gift" and my gut problems, but this time around it's much more of a pronounced bond the two share.  I'm actually home from work today because I was up all night with the trots.  Well, that's an exaggeration, I got up thrice to poop, but I've got firehole as though I'd been going all night.  I was having issues all last week and was cramping so bad yesterday I ran to the gym on my lunch break to do a few yoga poses. For the record, cobra and bow pose are great for lady pains.  

I was actually supposed to taper my Prednisone to 5mg every other day starting last week, but I knew Hurricane Flo was on the horizon so I waited.  It's a good thing, too, because I'm sure I would have shat myself at some point if I'd tried to wean while raggin' it. All last week I was exhausted, breaking out like a fry cook, and shitting like a cremee machine.  After what seemed like an eternity of PMS I finally started bleeding yesterday morning, and as of around eleven o'clock this morning my pooh was starting to get back into shape after a long weekend of loosies.  This is good because it means I'm getting back to normal, but it also really worries me because I don't want to have to go through this every two weeks.  When I get PMS or anything related to the timing of my period, it begins a week before my period, and lasts through my period, which generally lasts 5-7 days.  Two weeks on, two weeks off, it's a friggin' nightmare.  And I for one get terrible anxiety during the two weeks off, because I know what's eventually coming and it's exhausting.  My gastro seems to think that it'll get better once I'm fully in remission, but I'm skeptical.  I'm also extremely pissed off that, while doctors acknowledge the bowel/menstrual connection, there's nothing conclusive to be said about disconnecting the two.  Should there be some way to handle this with hormone treatments?  I remember when I was on so much Prednisone my period stopped- the one nice side effect that drug ever gave me!

I know women who have full remission during pregnancy, and other women who reach the brink of death when trying to carry a child.  I have no doubt that hormones play a significant role in agitating and relieving IBD, but to hear my doc tell it there are shamefully few studies on the matter.  If anyone out there knows of any, point the way! 

image source: dvdbeaver.com

On Coping (and some updates)

It was really slow at work today and I found myself sucked into the forums over at the CCFA's website. A lot of what I read got me thinking I'd like to share some of the coping mechanisms that I've used over the years to vent some of the built-up steam over life with IBD.

The very first time I ever felt humbled about my illness was when I was first diagnosed and had been in the hospital for about a week and a half.  I was down on everything, could barely be dragged out of bed to stretch my legs, singing the "why me?" blues all day and night.  And then I got a new roommate- a six year-old with leukemia.  Well that snapped me out of it.  This kid was always happy, always playing with something, and constantly asking to go for walks to the maternity ward to look at babies.  I'm happy to report she's a happy, healthy twenty-something today, but back then she had death knocking at her door and there I was literally belly-aching.  It certainly put things in perspective for me.  Since then, I always try (and often fail) to think of scenarios that are worse than my own.

Other coping mechanisms throughout my high school years included playing the drums, taking art classes, hitting golf balls at the driving range, and clumsily pummelling a boxing bag in our backyard.   I also was, and continue to be, an avid colorer, preferring markers and design books like they sell at Pearl Paint over crayons and picture books.  I don't indulge in coloring as much anymore because I feel like there's not much of a productive outcome, but the meditative nature of coloring is nothing to be scoffed at.  Despite being raised Catholic I don't really subscribe to any particular religious belief, but I am a firm believer in making quiet time for yourself, be that in the form of prayer, meditation, coloring, whatever. 

I tried therapy a couple of times, but never had much luck finding a therapist that did anything but sit and "listen" before kicking me out after an hour.  I decided I have better luck staying home and talking to myself for free.  I do, however, take 10mg of Celexa, an anti-depressant in the SSRI class of drugs (Select Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor, I think).  I could probably use 20mg, but I want it to be a tool and not a crutch.

This blog is my latest vent, but then writing has always had that benefit in my experience.  I don't play drums anymore, nor do I have the opportunity to golf much, but I have been trying to swim on my lunch break at least once a week.  In addition to helping me relax it's also been helpful in easing my leg pains and loosening up my back and shoulders.  I discovered how much I love yoga a few years ago, but I haven't done it in a while because I haven't quite been up to participating in a full-on class.  I've done some stretching at home on my own, but I'm eager to return to a class setting and do a complete hour routine. I find that, in addition to relaxing me, the quality of my poop is outstanding the morning after a good yoga class. 

On that note, let's transition into an update on my meds and poop.  I was having some malformed doodoos with hints of pink last week, and obviously that had me concerned.  My doc decided to have me stay at 15mg Prednisone for the time being, and called me in for a blood test to check my Imuran levels.  I've put the SCD routine on hold for now, and am back to my full dosage of Pentasa as of Wednesday (that's 3000mg a day). I also got my period on Monday.  I'm not sure if it's one or all of these variables, but I've slept completely through the night for the past four nights in a row, and today I took the biggest, most normal looking crap I've seen since I can't remember when.  You know, the kind you really want to show someone because you're so proud you made it but you know that would just do more harm than good. So that has me pretty happy.  I'm also happy to have a weekend that's not totally devoted to shopping and cooking (although both of those things are on the agenda).  So that's that for now.

ttfn,
Li'l Crohnsie

oops.

Well, I fell off the bike yesterday (I know that's not the saying, but I like this picture).  I'm not beating myself up too much, as I've consulted with friends, family, and strangers alike and the consensus is that I should probably just start over.  I thought I'd done my research, but the whole intro part of the diet was something I didn't really prepare myself for enough. From what I've gleaned I'm probably doing myself a disservice by jumping in too fast.  But more on that later, about that slip...

One of my aunts passed away this weekend, and I had to meet my mom at the airport early in the a.m. and head out to Long Island for the services.  I made sure to eat a good breakfast before leaving my apartment, but somehow allowed my mom to convince me that my uncle would have something I could eat at his house for lunch.  I should have known better and planned ahead to pack myself some snacks, but I think deep down I wanted an excuse to see what would happen if I ate something non-SCD after eating only legal foods for a week.  So when my Uncle offered me home made split pea soup with ham in it- my favorite!- I couldn't turn it down.  I was even weaker, though, and had myself half of a turkey sandwich with a small slice of American cheese on potato bread as well.  I did have a gross looking mini-poop not long after, but I don't know that the reaction would be so immediate.  Otherwise I've actually felt better today than I've been feeling the past few days- a sharp lady pain today has me thinking Aunt Flo might be to blame for some of the symptoms I've been having (not many symptoms- slight tummy cramps and the occasional hint of blood in my stool).

So, back to starting over with the SCD thing.  I'm having an SCD dinner and will continue to strive to eat only SCD foods, but am starting to think of this more as a training period than the actual marathon.  My palate and my lifestyle need to recalibrate before I can really do this right, and I want to do this right. I need to take another look at the SCD chart and check off the "legal" things that should be "illegal" for me (cider is the first thing that come to mind).  I also think I need to focus on figuring out my medication situation.  I went to get some blood work done to test my Imuran levels, and it made me realize that I should probably get my meds regulated and stabilized before messing with other variables (ideally returning fully to SCD will then get me off of the meds).  My doctor had originally advised me to start the diet while still on Prednisone, but I would rather know that my symptoms are from weaning off the Prednisone and not bacteria die-off or over-consumption of grape juice (so far my only source of sweet besides honey).

I'm hoping that over the next few months the medication situation will get figured out, and hopefully I'll be ready for the actual SCD "marathon" come summer, if not sooner.  I don't see myself ever doing the intro diet for a full five days unless in dire straights, but I should definitely give it more than one day and try to move beyond it at a pace that's outlined nicely here at Pecanbread.com.  I'll also continue to build my arsenal of SCD recipes and work on improving my kitchen skills to make myself a more efficient, delicious batch cook able to handle this lifestyle for the long-term.

In other news, Aunt Flo has indeed reared her ugly head since I started working on this post, and she always causes trouble with my gut.  I'd really love to read a study about the connection.

now i just feel awkward

...Like we've drifted. I haven't addressed you in so long, it's like I forgot how. So I'll just jump right in.

I've been eating cheeri-os (or their bastard generic cousin) every morning, except yesterday and the day before I ate bananas. I've been pooping pretty nicely, but I've felt a smidge nauseas in the mornings. And I still have my goddamned motherfucking period. I'm fucking crabby and exhausted but I'm not willing to get my IUD taken out because I LOVE being off of hormonal birth control. I should probably go to the gyno, but I'm willing to wait it out a little longer. One woman I spoke to told me she had her period for three months when she first got her IUD. Anyway, this has absolutely nothing to do with my poop.

My poop itself has been coming out around the same time every morning, sometime between 9:30 and 10. It' been pretty consistent and satisfying, but it was really crazy last Sunday, floating in the bowl like those styrofoam pool noodles. I blame it on the fact that I drank beer and prosecco saturday night and then a mimosa with lunch the next morning.

I was farty this morning and a little queasy when I woke up, but things settled down. I forgot to take my prilosec monday, tuesday, and wednesday, and I think that was a huge factor. Today I ate a bbq chicken sandwich with tomato and lettuce and steak fries for lunch, and baked white fish with tri-colored pasta for dinner. and cheerio's for breakfast. and an ice cream sandwich and some chips. yeah, i've been a little piggy. like i said, i've had my period for two months.

I don't think I pooped today

I'm thinking about it and I can't remember if I pooped. If I did it must have pretty unremarkable.
Aunt Flo is still around- she's not making a big fuss, but she's definitely around and has been pretty consistently for the past two weeks. I'm not feeling any ill effects from her extended visit, but it's still pissing me off.

I found out my cholesterol is a little high, so I'm making some dietary changes (or trying to). This morning I had half of a bagel with cream cheese, a cup of coffee and some orange juice. Then we went to the grocery store and I bought some healthy stuff. I made a big thing of chili with fake ground meat and it was really tasty. I made cornbread muffins on the side. I plan to substitute my lunches with fake deli meat and start using margarine instead of butter. I picked up some fruit to snack on, like grapes, bananas, and apples, and intend to drink more soymilk. I could stand to lose a few pounds (by few I mean about twenty) so this should benefit me in more ways than one.

Oh, also of note, I stopped taking the Prilosec just to see how long I last without it.

Nothing Inspiring Lately

Well, as of late my bowels have been pretty ho-hum. I've been pooping pretty regularly, usually once in the morning, around ten, and none of my recent products have inspired a "Hey, that looks like...!" kind of moment. My period, on the other hand, has been relentless! That fucking thing has been ebbing and flowing for the past two weeks and I'm feeling pretty over it. I knew to expect longer and heavier periods for the first few months after getting my IUD, but dayum! And my face is a fucking breeding ground of small volcanic eruptions. I never imagined I'd be this close to thirty and battling acne. But those things aside, I still love it ten times more than the pill, and I'm much happier on the whole.

One notable thing is that I had a beer at some point during the week and I woke up wanting to puke really badly. I didn't though- but I did gag like crazy. I've been trying to eat a small container of vanilla yogurt when I first get to work, I did that maybe three times this week. I've been taking Prilosec still, and am pretty good about sticking to my vitamins, except for sometimes on weekends.

I'll try to pop out something creative this week so the next post won't be so boring.