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| 2002-05-12 - 8:38 a.m.
Health whine
OW. OW OW OW. If you don't want to hear me whine about my stomach, you can move along. Don't worry, nothing graphic. I just sent Beloved off to church alone. I got as far as sitting in the car. But the pain was enough that I was bent over, and I decided I'd just better save us all the potential embarassment, and send him without me. Now, I'm not so broken up because I'm missing church, but I'm upset that this fucking IBS is controlling my life. I try so hard not to let it. Really. I mean, I have completely freaky eating habits that puzzle normal people. (Eating is the last thing I do if I'm having a social evening, for instance. Food, then home) But I pretty much do what I have to and want to do, go places I want to go, etc. So I really hate it when I have to throw in the towel and say "ya know what, I'm staying home". I feel like I let him down, or let friends down, or whatever. And the opponents of my miracle drug, Lotronex, say IBS isn't serious enough to warrant a drug with risks. Bullshit. If people with "normal" guts had this thing for ONE WEEK, they'd freak. They'd go to the hospital because of the pain, they'd miss work because of the runs. They. Would. Freak. If I cancelled things because I had the runs that morning, I'd NEVER leave the house. OK. I lied. But that's a graphic as it gets. The subject matter is why IBS doesn't get "talked" about, it gets joked about. No one makes migraine jokes, but it's the same kind of thing....there's nothing organically, physically wrong with the person, but damn, are the symptoms real and debilitating. But because there's nothing to be found on tests and scopes, etc, etc, people like to tell you that the problem is stress....you don't handle it well. Or you don't eat the right foods. Yeah, I dont' eat right, but in my case, it's food PERIOD that's the problem, not the type. I could live on boiled chicken breasts and white rice, and still have this problem. The FDA had a meeting about Lotronex last month. It looks like it will be back in some form in a few months. I hope and pray it's before my wedding. I'd probably be better off if I could eat on my wedding day. As I always tell "normal" people who make jokes....remember the last time you ate a bad hot dog (or whatever). Remember that funny gurgle that told you A: Something isn't right and B: You had about two minutes to find a restroom? That's my life. So please don't joke about it. OK. I think I'm done whining. I think I'll go lie on the couch now.
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