The Dreaded Pouchitis: Not as dreadful as space scurvey

You see, it took me 2 years and a trip to Argentina to get pouchitis. While there on a business trip, a steady diet of meat, more meat, and some meat, coupled with small breakfasts, very late dinners and no snacks in between, all upset my plumbing. I might have gotten a tad dehydrated as well and yes, I am now 34% fluent in Spanish. My last two days and the flight back was like an attempt at setting a world record for most bathroom visits. They should have punchcards for bathroom stalls where ten visits gets you a free sandwich, but I secretly hope that they will never sell sandwiches in bathrooms. The first thing people told me when I got back to the office (aside from “oh we thought you left so we divvied up your stuff”) was that I noticeably lost weight. Well, I did. Like 12 pounds.

In hindsight, Argentina gave me plenty of clues that they had it in for my j-pouch. This stall at a soccer/football stadium didn't even have toilet paper roll holders, let alone toile paper. An omen, if you will.

When I had this increase in frequency and odd pressure associated with the urge to push (you know, when you need to give a little push to gently remind your bowels that it’s showtime), I thought it was just a souvenir of Argentinean culture and not anything too bad. On behest of my friend (who happen to have been one of my nurses), I went to visit my surgeon to get it checked out. A cold finger poke later and she said yep, all signs point to pouchitis. Pouchitis is inflammation of the ol’ j-pouch, so it might feel like colitis again. Oh j-pouch, you trickster you. There was no something-something-osis (where there is some tightening, which I took as being bad), so I got a short dose of Cipro and I was fine literally two days later. Seriously, this is a cake walk compared to everything we’ve been through.

Pictured: me doing pushups in the middle of nowhere with pouchitis. See, still better than UC. Not pictured: a bathroom or a sea monster.

Scars: A roadmap to victory!

The scars themselves are minor footnotes in my journey to recovery. I could tell people that the scars are from when I was in a bar fight with a grizzly bear, but I take pride in where they come from and what they represent.

15 pounds heavier; it all went to the cankles.

It’s The Little Things: Being an undercover “Normie”

“Normies” are normal people. Having this newfound sense of health, I’m going in deep undercover into their shady, secret underworld of “physical activities” and “not being too concerned with where the bathrooms are”. And I have to say, it’s the little things that make you appreciate being healthy. This point really hit home for me when I recently went to a Rammstein concert and spent the entire show trapped up front in a wave of bodies, able only jump around and bang my head to rock out. I didn’t once get that sense of urgency or accompanying anxiety, and it was awesome. You know when I pulled this off last? 2001 when I was still pre-UC. I feel blessed to have this additional sense of perspective.

Supporting the Cause: Poop

Do you happen to live in the San Francisco bay area and want to be part of a supportive group but don’t like the idea of a sterile, boring support group and your expectations aren’t too high? Well we’re trying something different. I have joined forces with Gwendolyn, a friend and Team Challenge mate, to create a supportive social group for people who are affected by Crohns and/or Colitis. Check us out at http://www.facebook.com/SFSSG!

The SFSSG!

Progress, yo!

I censored the mooning. You're welcome.

These posts might also help out:

• March 27, 2010 -- Colston Thomas Mills (4)
• February 25, 2010 -- Commenter with Questions (13)
• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• February 19, 2010 -- Blood, Poop, and Tears (3)

Here’s the scoop. The last time I blogged I was getting ready to have the first leak fixed back in February. I went into surgery and my surgeon attempted to fix the leak. I came out and was told we needed to wait 3 months before I could try again.

So I went home and started the wait. Three months later I returned to Duke to have the o so wonderful pouch-o-gram done for the second time only to be told that there is still a leak.  On June 8 my surgeon and another surgeon from her team took another adventure into my butt. They stitched, double stitched, stitched again and then glued the dang thing. We were all hopeful that it would hold and let the leak heal.

Well as you can guess, again, it didn’t. On Friday the 27th I returned to Duke and had my favorite test done for the third time. At this point I could tell them how to run the test. You know it’s bad when these people that work at this huge hospital start knowing who you are. So, yes, the test concluded that the leak was still there and, oh you’ll never guess, unchanged.

I went to talk to my surgeon about what step we would be taking next. She told me that she has done everything she can do from going in through my bum. That shes not sure why its not healing and that there really aren’t to many options left. So the 2 options that I have are one put in a drain or wait.

Soooo where does that leave me…..sitting on the couch with a red plastic tube sticking out of my but…..OH WHAT A FUN FREAKING TIME! Oh no to mention still waiting, probably as long as another year, again a great time.  About every 4 weeks or so I’ll head back up to Duke to have the tube moved a bit as long as it doesn’t fall out first.  Or should I say until I can’t stand it and take it out. The thing is stitched to my skin and the tube is about a foot long. Yeah it pulls on the stitches, and I have to flush out the tube every day, it just keeps getting better and better.

I really feel like there just isn’t enough research being done to help people like us. There has got to be some better options for us. Yeah I know its not one of those serious illnesses you see on the news all the time but this is serious to us. I feel like we’re the little people in the medical world. Well we need attention to. We need help to. There needs to be more freaking help…..Where are you big wig medical people at?

As you can most likely tell I’m angry, frustrated and down right pissed off. I’m not giving up hope and I will continue to fight to get that part of my life back. And eventually the anger will subside and I’ll find a way to accept this situation and deal. Until then, I’m alright with being mad. I think that sometimes its good to be mad. We are all getting dealt “shitty” cards and none of us asked for any of this. I’m not signing any adoption paperwork and sooner or later I will kick him out on his poop bag ass!!!!

I am thankful for my boyfriend and my family, I really couldn’t get through this all without him or them! Mike is by far the best man in the whole world!!!!!

Stay strong and this too shall pass!!!

These posts might also help out:

• February 13, 2010 -- Take a walk in my shoes (93)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• December 8, 2010 -- Cleveland Clinic, Day 1 (6)
• August 17, 2010 -- IBS? Nah: Irritable Vowels! (0)

Here you go: Irritable Vowels from the guys behind The Morning News. I love it and I want one. Perhaps jpouch.net should have a contest and give one away? Chime in with your ideas for a contest in the comments.

[link]

These posts might also help out:

• November 4, 2010 -- Fear Monger, MD (6)
• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• March 27, 2010 -- Colston Thomas Mills (4)
• April 6, 2009 -- 4 feet less but still the best: My Jpouch Story (12)

I’m FINALLY home! I had to get readmitted for pain control, you can check out the whole story at my other blog, www.bloodpooptears.wordpress.com. But I wanted to let you all know that I took some pictures, they are kinda graphic as usual. So if you want to check em out…here they are. Surgery # 1.

These posts might also help out:

• April 6, 2009 -- 4 feet less but still the best: My Jpouch Story (12)
• March 27, 2010 -- Colston Thomas Mills (4)
• February 8, 2010 -- A little insight on my insides. (13)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)

I’m a father!

So welcome to world baby Mills. His name is Colston Thomas Mills, born on 3/6/2010, he was 8 pounds 7 ounces (big!) and he’s perfect. Like Mark and Megan’s joke about the bowels, I have a bit of concern for the future of his colon. But, just in case you’re wondering, it’s working really well right now, and he has some fantastic pressure in both ends of his plumbing!

There was a time when I couldn’t lay on my left side because it aggravated my Colitis too much. 4, count them, FOUR years of my life I couldn’t sleep on my left side. Take that, Colitis! Here I am asleep with the little guy. Sleeping with him (on my left side!) is my new favorite activity.

I promise a full story of my Colitis, waiting too long to get it treated, surgery, and recovery. For now, though, please join me in welcoming our baby to the world.

You see, it gets better, I promise.

These posts might also help out:

• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• April 6, 2009 -- 4 feet less but still the best: My Jpouch Story (12)
• August 8, 2008 -- Mark 9 month Jpouch Update (49)

Check our her blog here.

These posts might also help out:

• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• March 27, 2010 -- Colston Thomas Mills (4)
• February 8, 2010 -- A little insight on my insides. (13)

After that I continued on like there was nothing wrong. I wasn’t having really any discomfort that I could tell just the blood. I graduated and went on to join the ARMY. I love it, it was my childhood dream to be a soldier! I made it through basic training effortlessly, with the exception of my second kidney stone and became a generator mechanic. After graduation I met my now ex husband. We were married after knowing each other maybe 6 months. He was horrible, enough said on that topic! Once at my unit the bleeding got worse and along with it came stomach discomfort. To make a long story short I had the necessary scopes and no diagnosis could be made. I was medically chaptered out of my dream job.

So with my broken heart and my bloody poop i started a new journey. I left my ex and filled for divorce, I enrolled in school and did a lot of “living it up” for a few good years with no real problems other than some blood here and more there. I didn’t think to much of it. I became more comfortable with the fact that this strange thing was happening and I would joke about it with my close friends.  I continued to get the freaking kidney stones. I turns out the older I get and the more of them I get the bigger they become. In the span of maybe 3 years I had to have 3 lipotripsy procedures to remove some I couldn’t pass. What a pain in the ass that was!!!!

Almost 2 and a half years ago I met my now boyfriend Mike. I was kidney stone free and still bleeding when I would go to the bathroom. A year into our relationship Mike went out to California for a summer internship leaving me in North Carolina. The month he left things started taking a turn for the worst.

With the Army, a failed marriage, countless kidney stones, twice as many moves and job changes, as well as tons of other challenges to boring to get into here, I became this “tough bitch” as my mother calls me. At this time I was a personal trainer, my second dream job. I had been a personal trainer for about 2 years at this point and I was really into eating right and training hard. It was my life and I loved it. I was trying to train so I could eventually do a figure show so I was training harder and eating better than I ever had before. When the bleeding began to get worse I ignored it, I didn’t want to admit that something was going wrong because in my mind that would mean weakness.

About three weeks after the increase in blood the stomach pains and diarrhea started. Still I though I could tough it out and it would pass. I didn’t have health insurance at the time and I sure as hell wasn’t going to wrack up a bunch of medical bills. I went out to visit mike and I didn’t tell him was was going on because I was embarrassed.

A month later I was sicker than ever. I went back out a second time to see Mike and by this time I had told him and my mother about what was going on. When I got back home after my trip  I was in way over my head and I didn’t know it. I just kept plugging away. Walking around as though nothing was going on and I was fine.

Things got so bad that it started affecting my work. At this point I was the general sales manager for this training company and I just couldn’t stay out of the bathroom long enough to do my job. I ended up telling my bosses about what was going on. I still didn’t want to see a doctor because I still didn’t have insurance and because I was scared.

As scared as I was I was still joking and making light about it with my best friends. The best way to cope with it was to joke about it. Things go so bad that I was going through a roll of toilet paper in one night, and just thinking about how much that actually was makes me laugh.

The blood became horrible, and the pain was worse. I had dealt with pain in various forms all my life and this was just the same. Pain. It has always been easy for me to walk around in pain and show no sign of it. Pain to me was just an annoying thing I had always been able to ignore.

It wasn’t until I crapped my pants the first time that I thought ok I need to got to the doctor. I went and had a bunch of tests ran and nothing turned up. I needed to go see a gastro guy because my regular doctor though it could be Crohn’s or UC. Still without insurance I hesitated to go to the specialist.

Things continued to get worse and worse. I was going to the bathroom in my pants at least once a day, my work was really suffering and I was lost. Then about a week and a half before Mike got home I stopped going to the bathroom. Then only thing that would come out blood and a lot of it.

Mike finally came home on august 1 2008 and we moved into our first apartment together the same day. The very next day on the Aug. 2 Mike had to take me to the ER. I still hadn’t gone to the bathroom and I was in the worst kind of pain. I was at the ER for a total of only 2 hours. After telling the ER doc what had been going on he told me that I wasn’t constipated I just didn’t have anything left to poop out because of how long I had diarrhea. An x-ray quickly proved him wrong. He gave me a suppository  while I was there and of course that didn’t work. He sent me home telling me to pick up 2 bottles of citrate magnesium and drink them both. I did and I though I was going to die. Thank God for Mike, he was so great about being there for me.

Four days later we were supposed to fly up to New Hampshire to see Mikes family. I went back and forth trying to decide weather I should go or not and finally figured that I shouldn’t be left alone for that week and went. On flight up there I had an accident in my pants shortly after the flight took off. I was sooooo  pissed at the time and Mike was so calm and so supportive saying ” Don’t worry we’ll get there, get your bag, change your cloths and no one will ever have to know. Its going to be alright.” I would have lost it if it wasn’t for him!

Once we got there his parents were great. I couldn’t do anything except lay around. I felt so horrible and I was so embarrassed. The day before we were to leave I spiked a fever and was by far the worst I had been yet. Mike parents took me to the hospital and after being to told that I may not have made it another night my mother flew in from NY. She was terrified, she had no clue how bad things had really gotten because when I talked to her about it I always would tell her “Mom don’t worry I’m fine.” Even when she was told about my horrible condition by Mikes mother I still tried to tell her I was fine. I am a nut is what I am!

So after 5 or so days in the hospital they thought that I had UC and released me to follow up with my gastro at home. The day after my release my health insurance kicked in! Since I didn’t have a definitive diagnosis i was in the clear with the insurance. No preexisting condition.

I went home and went to a gastro guy in my town. He determined that I had Crohn’s. He put me on a ton of steroids and anti- inflammatory drugs. For a while they seemed to make things better and I was starting to get back to my life a bit. I had dropped about 25 pound over the course of those three months and I was ready to get back in the gym. The day I went back to work I was fired. My boss told me that because I was still not feeling good that I was best we went separate ways. It was BS but I knew that it was for the best. I couldn’t do that kind of work right then. After leaving that job I didn’t work again for almost a year because I was so sick. Sooner than later the meds stopped working and I started to regress. I was brought in for another colonoscopy and it went horrible. I woke up during and was so freaked out I transferred to Duke University Hospital and never went back to that guy.

All this while I was still using crazy amounts of toilet paper and still crapping my pants. The going to the bathroom in my pants was a huge pain in the ass but I still found ways to joke about it. It would happen all the time. In the car, while walking the dogs, when I was out for a run, in a store, anywhere and everywhere. I had to bring spare cloths every where.

Once I got up Duke my new gastro wasn’t convinced that I had Crohn’s but she wasn’t convinced it was UC either. This started the back and forth process. It lasted several months and through several failed drug treatments. The last drug treatment I tried was Remicade, it didn’t work. The next option was to talk to the surgeon. I went and had a cat scan done and it showed that not only was my colon extremely diseased but it was also one big hunk of scar tissue and was no longer working correctly. The final determination was that it would have to be removed. She told me about the surgery, about the bag, and about what to expect. I was terrified and Mike just kept telling me its going to be ok. He would say I had to do this because he didn’t want to see me sick anymore. I went home and got on the internet. Big mistake.

When I called and told my mother what needed to be done we both cried. I couldn’t even think about it without getting sick to my stomach. I was so scared, more scared than I had ever been in my life. A week or so went by and I accepted what needed to be done, schedule the surgery and started to prepare.

The date was about a month and a half away when I got really sick again and the surgery had to be moved up to within the following week. My mom was freaking out. I know I haven’t mentioned her much through all of this but she is my best friend and I would not have gotten through this without this woman! We scheduled her flight and waited. Mikes parents came down and spent time with us before the surgery and stayed for support. My mom flew in the day before and went to pre op with me. Once she saw that I was ok with what was going on she kinda let her fear go.

I had the surgery on Sept.  9 2009, it lasted 5 hours and 45 mins and it went as good as anyone could have asked. She got all the bad parts out and constructed my j pouch. It went so smooth and everyone was pleased with the out come. The recovery on the other hand was a different story. I was in so much pain every day I  couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. My dad and my step mom came down and I could hardly even stand to talk with them it hurt so bad. I never knew such pain! There was one day the pain was so bad that the only memory I have of that day was seeing all these bright colors. My mom told me what had happened when I came back around the net day. She said that it was so bad that I sat up and asked for her cell phone. When she asked why I told her that I needed to call 911 and get some help up here. She said even though she was scared and worried I still made her laugh. She told me hun I think were at 911.

I had a poop bag and it was nasty and weird and I didn’t want it. The first bag change was horrible and it hurt so much I cried.  I was in the hospital for a total of 9 days following the surgery. When I was released I was still hurting but I was better and determined to go home and heal.

I was sent home on a Thursday, Friday I stopped peeing, I went 12 hours without going pee. My mom had to take me to the local ER to be drained. I left with a leg bag and a lot of relief. Saturday we rushed back in the middle of the night to have the leg bag taken off because it was causing me to much  pain and I just couldn’t stand it anymore. They took it out and sent me home. To my relief I could pee again. Sunday I woke up in even more pain. I called the surgeon and she told me that it sounded like a blockage and to get to the ER asap. So I went to my local ER again and the shipped me back up to Duke where I had to stay anther 3 days while the blockage passed.

While all this was going on, I was trying to get used to my new illeostomy bag. It was so hard and so familiar at the same time. For some reason I felt like I had been there done this before. It was strange, like da ja vu or something. Anyways it was nasty and I got poop on my hands a lot. Changing the bag was a pain in the ass. I would take the bag off and the stoma would start shooting poop out all over the place. I Hated it and I never smelled nastier poop before.

I was released and the following day I flew home with my mom to recover leaving Mike at home to take care of our dogs. While in NY I was still having all kinds of issues. First of all the biggest of my incisions had opened up and the area around my stoma separated from my skin and they both stung soooooooo bad. Second I stopped peeing again and had to go to the doctor to get relief. The doctor was great and he arranged a home care nurse to come and help me out. Third I started developing these large bumps on my skin, almost like boils. They were popping up on my but and in my arm pits and they freaking hurt.

I tired two different times to fly back home to Mike, the first time I was just not ready to travel alone so we put it off another 2 weeks. The second time I was ready, doing better than ever and I wanted to go home. The night before I was supposed to leave I had dinner at my dads. After dinner I was on my way to meet up with my best friend Michelle and on the way there I started getting cramps and I though wow…Odd…

I spent a few hours with Michelle and all the while the cramps were getting worse and worse. When I finally left they were so bad I was starting to get worried. It was late when I got to my moms so I didn’t want to wake her, besides I thought it would pass in the night. Well it didn’t and I didn’t sleep at all. In the morning my mom came to check on me and I was crying and balled up in pain. She asked what was wrong and I told her about the pain. She said “What did you do, what did you eat? I let you out of my sight one time and this is what happens.” Oh she was so upset. This was the day I was supposed to leave, supposed to fly home to Mike. Instead I had to go back to the hospital.

My mom took me to the small hospital in the next town over and from there the had to ship me to a bigger better place because x-rays showed 2 adhesions that had formed 2 blockages around my small intestine. Once at this bigger hospital the surgeon rushed in and said I have to operate with in the hour here’s the form sign it so we can go. I, excuse my language, shit my bag. This was nuts and I was freaking out.

They did the surgery, saved my life and made me feel better all in the same day. Later on they found out that the bumps all over me was a wicked staff infection and began treatment immediately. I became super sick all the sudden and had to have 2 blood transfusions and around the clock monitoring. At one point I stopped producing urine and they pumped me full of fluid for 2 days straight. This caused me to balloon up to this scary huge frog legged monster. I was around 110 lbs when I went in and I must have put 30 pound of water on. Thank god someone besides me noticed and told the doctor. They gave me a pill to help shed it off and I quickly did. I turned to my mother and honestly asked if I had stretch marks on my ass. She thought that was so funny, I did not.

Finally I was sent home and I felt so good. I was recovering right and healing fast. A few weeks later I flew back home to be with Mike and my dogs. A few weeks after that I was cleared for work and started working at the golf course I was working at before the surgery. Everything was going so good. I wasn’t sick anymore, I was back at work at back in the gym. The only thing I had to deal with was the dang bag. By the time I got back to NC I had a better handle on the bag and its many bad habits. It was easier to clean and change at this point.

Things have been going pretty good since my return to NC. I have had very few problems with the bag although just dealing with it on a daily basis sucks. I have had the bag leak a few times in the middle of the night making huge messes but thats really the extent of it. I do joke about it a lot because its easier but inside I can’t wait to get ride of it. Having this bag has been the biggest struggle of my life. It consumes my every though and I’m so self conscious of it. I have to try on at least 10 different outfits before I find the one that covers it the best. Showering is not an enjoyable thing anymore not to mention being naked.

I have tried not to let the bag run my life but its hard. A lot of times its easier to just stay at home in my comfy sweat pants then try and get dressed and go deal with people. My current job at the golf course has been great. The people there are really understanding at supportive.

On Feb. 5th I went to have a pouchogram done and found out that I have a leak in my j pouch. I was supposed to have my reconnection surgery this month, now I will have the small surgery to fix the leak instead. This will happen on the 22nd and I will have to wait 3 more months before we can try again.

I was devastated. I wanted to be put back together so bad. It took me a week to get over being upset about it. I have readjusted and found a way to get re-motivated and I’m pressing on. I have been going to the gym 5 time a week and forcing myself to get out and do other things. Mike has been a huge help through all of this and I am lucky to have his support.

I know that things are going to get better and I also know that things can always be worse.

I know that this is long but trust me it could have been much longer, I gave you the short and sweet version. Maybe I’ll get more detailed in later posts but I think that this will do just fine for now.

Thanks for reading, don’t mind the typos and good luck to everyone in this ever growing boat.

Sara

These posts might also help out:

• February 8, 2010 -- A little insight on my insides. (13)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• December 8, 2010 -- Cleveland Clinic, Day 1 (6)
• September 2, 2010 -- My Foster Bag Wants to be Adopted (6)

After that the goal was to get me on an effective therapy to get my UC under control. I was and have been on steroids since June of ’09 and have tried Asacol, 6-MP, and Methotrexate. I can’t take any of the biologics because of my MS. My UC has never been in remission since diagnosis and has proceeded to get worse the last few months. My home GI referred me to Cleveland clinic to talk to a specialist who gave me good advice and advised that I should consider surgery. My home GI them told me that the doctor at CC was an idiot and that no surgeon would ever preform surgery on me. Needless to say  I was a bit conflicted.

I met with Dr. Remzi last Monday in regards to surgery against the advice of my home GI. Dr. Remzi was great and urged me to consider surgery. After throwing myself a pity party for a few days, where my only guest was myself…and I didn’t even get cake….I decided he was probably right and I should schedule my surgery. He said most likely he’ll be doing a 3 part surgery over 9 months with my first scheduled for March 25th.

So I’m just at the start of this journey…its going to be a long super sucky one…but I know there are a lot of you out there with me.

oh. Ps. I’ve attached a picture of what I USED to look like…you know before 8+ months of steroids….I hope to revisit this again someday

p.p.s. I make typos a lot. Deal with it.

These posts might also help out:

• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• February 13, 2010 -- Take a walk in my shoes (93)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• March 27, 2010 -- Colston Thomas Mills (4)

I have done volunteer work for the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America for the past six years. My mom told me about CCFA when I was first diagnosed. We joined and I was an inactive member for years (ie: I got the newsletters, paid my dues, but I never got involved.) Part of the reason for that lack of involvement was that I was  so sick, I could barely function, let alone have any extra energy to devote to a charity…even to one that might ultimately help my quality of life.

So here I am today, on the committee to plan the CCFA walk for my Northwest chapter. I’m super-swamped at work, have a full social life, and aside from a minor flare a few weeks ago, I’m doing pretty well health wise. Things on that front are rarely 100% for me, but I am happy and I am thrilled to be able to do something to help others who are suffering now as much as I once was.

For those of you who are able, I urge you to get out and volunteer. If not for CCFA, for another cause close to your heart (or guts).

These posts might also help out:

• June 6, 2009 -- Let’s just call it … IBD (8)
• July 11, 2008 -- CCFA Billboard (0)
• December 29, 2011 -- Loss & Gain (2)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)

Weight: When I had UC, my weight would fluctuate as I had flare ups. When I got out of the first surgery, I was coming in at a 152 pounds. Now, I’m sitting around a 183 pounds and, here is the best part, it no longer fluctuates all over the place. I’m super proud of this achievement. It means my body is stable for the first time in 8 years!!

Poop: I still go more than an average person, but come on, people. Come on. During UC I had constant pains and had to run to the bathroom every hour or so. I now don’t have to rush or anything. It’s all rather casual now. My stool is also more controlled now (you know: solid, smells like flowers, wins awards).

Diet: I have less restrictions now than when I had UC. I started slowly, sampling various foods and transitioning my diet to new food groups. So far, everything is good. I do avoid a few certain styles of food because, well, the results were mixed. Leafy salad, corn, and Mexican food aren’t on my Favorites List, but there hasn’t been a food that totally wrecked me. For those concerned about Mexican food: no, you won’t have to sacrifice the deliciousness. But I do recommend you pace yourself ha.

Fiber: BeneFiber is awesome. I don’t have to take it as often. In fact, I haven’t’ taken it in over a month. Instead, I just take it when I’m going to try a new food or eat something that I know will cause issues (looking right at you, soup).

Meds: Aside from the occasional Pro Biotic (VSL #3) and multi-vitamin, I currently don’t take any medicine. For someone who used to take 12 Asacol tablets a day on top of other fun pills for many many years, this is extremely liberating. Weird, almost. But I feel like I earned this freedom by going through with the surgery.

Exercise: I go the gym 6 days a week. I’m not trying to get buff or win World’s Strongest Man, regardless of what my previous claims might have implied. Instead, I’m just really, really, really excited about being healthy again and am trying to maintain my health by helping my body out.

Scars: Check it out:

Aside from the large scar that I've had since I was a wee baby, you can barely tell.

Team Challenge: I learned about this from fellow j-pouch community member Elise. Team Challenge is having a fund-raiser half-marathon this December in Las Vegas for the CCFA and I’ve been training dangit. When I had UC, I couldn’t run unless it was straight to the bathroom. Now, get this, I can drive to the city, train, come back, and THEN use the bathroom. And when I say “train” I mean pretty long distances. This past weekend was 5 miles walking and 5 miles running. I’ve never run 5 miles in my life, ever. It’s soooo motivating to be surrounded by a team members all gunning for the same cause: finding cures for UC and Crohn’s. And yes, I’ve been raising funds. All of my fund raising goes straight to the cause: YOU. I’m doing this for everyone affected by UC or Crohn’s. I hope to make you all proud! Here is my fundraiser page. Lizz you better donate a grand or I’m sending you “questionable” pictures.

Training for a %$#ing half marathon.

These posts might also help out:

• February 25, 2010 -- Commenter with Questions (13)
• July 20, 2011 -- 2 Years Post TakeDown (6)
• April 5, 2010 -- Home from Surgery #1 (1)
• June 27, 2009 -- The Post-Op Follow-Up Round-Up (14)