Has anyone ever noticed life is hard and often unfair? Knowing these two points can often affect one’s ability to find joy in trials and tribulations. As everyone else, I have also experienced my share of struggles. In June 2003, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. In basic terms, Crohn’s disease is a chronic inflammatory disease of the digestive track and can affect anything from the mouth to the large intestine. It is often characterized by abdominal pain, ulcers, and tissue inflammation. When diagnosed, I knew very well what the disease entailed as my roommate had been diagnosed just six months earlier. My gastroenterologist, in an attempt to keep the situation optimistic provided me his perspective on the disease, saying, “For most people, it doesn’t affect their life, it can be just an annoyance at times.” And with that statement began my life as a Crohn’s patient.
Initially, in an attempt to keep the disease stabilized, I was placed on 12 pills a day. As side symptoms of Crohn’s began to appear (such as acid reflux and slowness in food leaving the stomach) additional pills were added. I had my first flare in December 2003. As I would quickly discover with flares, food was the enemy and the bathroom my greatest friend. I dropped 10-15 pounds during that flare and found myself in many scuffles with my parents regarding my food choices. During flares, nothing would stay down and everything was painful. As a result, I never wanted to eat; it just wasn’t worth the repercussions. Watching a daughter’s weight drop is hard on parents, and we would have routine outings to the grocery store walking every row looking for anything I was willing to eat. Finally, I found baked potatoes and Hawaiian bread! Every meal for the next couple weeks incorporated some form of these items. My birthday is on Christmas Eve, and I was turning 21 that year. As usual, I helped my mom put together our traditional brunch for the family to celebrate and I made my own birthday cake. As everyone was enjoying the tasty delights, I was once again eating a baked potato and Hawaiian bread. I did not go out to celebrate becoming legal drinking age as planned because I didn’t know if it was a safe thing to do with my condition.
It was a tough birthday, and many other tough flares would occur (to be specific, at the end of every semester). Because of the progression of my disease, my local gastroenterologist sent me to UNC Hospital, where I am now a patient. I went through various stages of steroids, being placed on prednisone a couple times and physically blowing up like a balloon. Once, when my flare did not appear to be reacting to the prednisone, my doctor considered putting me on Remicade (an IV treatment with potentially severe side effects) temporarily to bring my body back under control.
By Fall 2005, frequent flares had produced scarring in my intestine, which was creating a permanent blockage. Where most individuals have 2 centimeters in diameter, I had less than 2 millimeters. Because I was in the middle of a semester, I was placed on additional medications to assist with flow until I could have surgery over Christmas break to have part of my intestines removed. Surgery was the hardest battle I undertook. Most Crohn’s patients will say stay away from surgery if possible or you will find yourself in and out of the operating room slowing removing the entire colon and/or small intestine. I knew with scarring, surgery is the only option, but I had never had to allow my mind to enter that arena before. Much was learned during that experience. In preparation, weekly, if not daily, I found myself reading the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3) as they stood before Pharoh and declared, “…the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." This verse became my power verse. It took a long time before I could stand and verbally speak these words with belief and authority. God did have the ability to cure me. This disease was not outside his control. Secondly, even if he chose not to cure me whether through the surgery or miraculously, regardless, I would worship him still.
The day of the surgery arrived. I was overcome with a spiritual peace. I knew I would make it through, and I knew God was working the hands of my surgeon. I had assumed my time of growth through this experience was complete, but the Lord had more planned. After four days in the hospital, I was allowed to come home only to awake the next morning throwing up and in unimaginable pain. From my parent’s house, over an hour and a half away from the hospital, I was taken back to Chapel Hill and readmitted for an additional 4 days. Thankfully, I made it out just in time for my birthday and Christmas. Through the next week, I continued with my rehabilitation plan set by my surgeon, which included lots of walking each day. I began to find I had higher and higher temperatures in the evening, a growing cramp-like pain in my abdomen, an inability to go to the bathroom, and an uncontrollable clear substance being secreted at handfuls at a time. I went back to Chapel Hill for some tests. All blood work showed I was perfectly healthy with only one test slightly higher than normal, but nothing to cause alarm. I was told to go back home and if problems persisted to come back in a few days for a complete body scan. That night, tired of being forced to wear a diaper and undergo the growingly painful stabs in my abdomen, I decided I would go back in that next day and not wait any longer. I knew by the look on the face of the individual performing my scan the next day that something odd was found. Afterwards, I was informed I had a grapefruit size abscess that had formed as a result of the surgery, which needed to be drained immediately! To this day, my doctor didn’t know how I could even walk and if left untreated for a couple more days, I could have died. I underwent another procedure to drain the abscess; 500mL of fluid was drained and a catheter was implanted to allow the abscess to continue to drain for a couple weeks. Up until this point, I had not eaten after the surgery and had lost significant weight. Finally, my hunger returned and life started to look somewhat normal again. I started the spring semester a few days later.
I know you are probably thinking, man I’m glad I don’t have that disease. To be honest, looking back, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Praise the Lord, since surgery I have been flare free and incurred no direct Crohn’s related health issues. Yes, I do still take medications everyday and being a Crohn’s patient does affect how I can be treated medically in every aspect of my health, but for now, the tough stuff is over.
God has revealed himself in an incredibly real way through these experiences. Since my initial diagnosis I have met multiple individuals who also suffer from the disease or its sister disease ‘ulcerative colitis’. Words do not describe the peace a person with this disease can feel when being able to share with another who truly understands their pains. Furthermore, I had learned the beauty of leaving the future in God’s hands and not knowing what is coming. I continually praise the Lord that I did not know the sequence of events surrounding my surgery. By not knowing, I could just sit in his presence and cry out and thank him over and over that he was there with me and he was making sure I was not encountering more than I could bear. Furthermore, not knowing what was about to arise gave me the ability to focus only on the moment at hand. When back in the ER the day after being released experiencing some of the greatest pain I have ever known and being given no medical attention due to all staff’s involvement in code red, God had the ability to keep whispering in my ear, “Only a moment longer. Trust me. I’m here.” To which I continued to verbally respond, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.”
Each of us will encounter really hard times in our life. It’s not a bet; it’s a guarantee. When I feel a major trial setting in, I look back at this period of my life and am reminded of how God stands by us, how much we grow as Christians through these events, and that at the end we will be able to count it all as blessings. Do I count this as a blessing? Absolutely. I was given a rare privilege to see God in a unique and majorly real way, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world!! Therefore, next time a trial comes your way, count it as an opportunity to learn to trust God more because in the end, you will look back and say, “Thank you, God for that moment!” Stand before God and read Daniel 3. Pray over those words until your emotions finally synchronize themselves with what your heart knows and believes: I have a God who is big enough and strong enough to take this trial from me, but even if he chooses to not, I will continue to fall down before him and worship him because he is an amazing God.
Initially, in an attempt to keep the disease stabilized, I was placed on 12 pills a day. As side symptoms of Crohn’s began to appear (such as acid reflux and slowness in food leaving the stomach) additional pills were added. I had my first flare in December 2003. As I would quickly discover with flares, food was the enemy and the bathroom my greatest friend. I dropped 10-15 pounds during that flare and found myself in many scuffles with my parents regarding my food choices. During flares, nothing would stay down and everything was painful. As a result, I never wanted to eat; it just wasn’t worth the repercussions. Watching a daughter’s weight drop is hard on parents, and we would have routine outings to the grocery store walking every row looking for anything I was willing to eat. Finally, I found baked potatoes and Hawaiian bread! Every meal for the next couple weeks incorporated some form of these items. My birthday is on Christmas Eve, and I was turning 21 that year. As usual, I helped my mom put together our traditional brunch for the family to celebrate and I made my own birthday cake. As everyone was enjoying the tasty delights, I was once again eating a baked potato and Hawaiian bread. I did not go out to celebrate becoming legal drinking age as planned because I didn’t know if it was a safe thing to do with my condition.
It was a tough birthday, and many other tough flares would occur (to be specific, at the end of every semester). Because of the progression of my disease, my local gastroenterologist sent me to UNC Hospital, where I am now a patient. I went through various stages of steroids, being placed on prednisone a couple times and physically blowing up like a balloon. Once, when my flare did not appear to be reacting to the prednisone, my doctor considered putting me on Remicade (an IV treatment with potentially severe side effects) temporarily to bring my body back under control.
By Fall 2005, frequent flares had produced scarring in my intestine, which was creating a permanent blockage. Where most individuals have 2 centimeters in diameter, I had less than 2 millimeters. Because I was in the middle of a semester, I was placed on additional medications to assist with flow until I could have surgery over Christmas break to have part of my intestines removed. Surgery was the hardest battle I undertook. Most Crohn’s patients will say stay away from surgery if possible or you will find yourself in and out of the operating room slowing removing the entire colon and/or small intestine. I knew with scarring, surgery is the only option, but I had never had to allow my mind to enter that arena before. Much was learned during that experience. In preparation, weekly, if not daily, I found myself reading the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3) as they stood before Pharoh and declared, “…the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." This verse became my power verse. It took a long time before I could stand and verbally speak these words with belief and authority. God did have the ability to cure me. This disease was not outside his control. Secondly, even if he chose not to cure me whether through the surgery or miraculously, regardless, I would worship him still.
The day of the surgery arrived. I was overcome with a spiritual peace. I knew I would make it through, and I knew God was working the hands of my surgeon. I had assumed my time of growth through this experience was complete, but the Lord had more planned. After four days in the hospital, I was allowed to come home only to awake the next morning throwing up and in unimaginable pain. From my parent’s house, over an hour and a half away from the hospital, I was taken back to Chapel Hill and readmitted for an additional 4 days. Thankfully, I made it out just in time for my birthday and Christmas. Through the next week, I continued with my rehabilitation plan set by my surgeon, which included lots of walking each day. I began to find I had higher and higher temperatures in the evening, a growing cramp-like pain in my abdomen, an inability to go to the bathroom, and an uncontrollable clear substance being secreted at handfuls at a time. I went back to Chapel Hill for some tests. All blood work showed I was perfectly healthy with only one test slightly higher than normal, but nothing to cause alarm. I was told to go back home and if problems persisted to come back in a few days for a complete body scan. That night, tired of being forced to wear a diaper and undergo the growingly painful stabs in my abdomen, I decided I would go back in that next day and not wait any longer. I knew by the look on the face of the individual performing my scan the next day that something odd was found. Afterwards, I was informed I had a grapefruit size abscess that had formed as a result of the surgery, which needed to be drained immediately! To this day, my doctor didn’t know how I could even walk and if left untreated for a couple more days, I could have died. I underwent another procedure to drain the abscess; 500mL of fluid was drained and a catheter was implanted to allow the abscess to continue to drain for a couple weeks. Up until this point, I had not eaten after the surgery and had lost significant weight. Finally, my hunger returned and life started to look somewhat normal again. I started the spring semester a few days later.
I know you are probably thinking, man I’m glad I don’t have that disease. To be honest, looking back, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Praise the Lord, since surgery I have been flare free and incurred no direct Crohn’s related health issues. Yes, I do still take medications everyday and being a Crohn’s patient does affect how I can be treated medically in every aspect of my health, but for now, the tough stuff is over.
God has revealed himself in an incredibly real way through these experiences. Since my initial diagnosis I have met multiple individuals who also suffer from the disease or its sister disease ‘ulcerative colitis’. Words do not describe the peace a person with this disease can feel when being able to share with another who truly understands their pains. Furthermore, I had learned the beauty of leaving the future in God’s hands and not knowing what is coming. I continually praise the Lord that I did not know the sequence of events surrounding my surgery. By not knowing, I could just sit in his presence and cry out and thank him over and over that he was there with me and he was making sure I was not encountering more than I could bear. Furthermore, not knowing what was about to arise gave me the ability to focus only on the moment at hand. When back in the ER the day after being released experiencing some of the greatest pain I have ever known and being given no medical attention due to all staff’s involvement in code red, God had the ability to keep whispering in my ear, “Only a moment longer. Trust me. I’m here.” To which I continued to verbally respond, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.”
Each of us will encounter really hard times in our life. It’s not a bet; it’s a guarantee. When I feel a major trial setting in, I look back at this period of my life and am reminded of how God stands by us, how much we grow as Christians through these events, and that at the end we will be able to count it all as blessings. Do I count this as a blessing? Absolutely. I was given a rare privilege to see God in a unique and majorly real way, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world!! Therefore, next time a trial comes your way, count it as an opportunity to learn to trust God more because in the end, you will look back and say, “Thank you, God for that moment!” Stand before God and read Daniel 3. Pray over those words until your emotions finally synchronize themselves with what your heart knows and believes: I have a God who is big enough and strong enough to take this trial from me, but even if he chooses to not, I will continue to fall down before him and worship him because he is an amazing God.
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