2. Crohn's: Missed Opportunity

Period: March - October 2010

Previously I discussed my ability to rationalise my way out of seeking medical help. Well, let's just say if you think I am a bit strange now, by the end of this post you'll probably think I'm slightly insane. You may do already but stick with it!

By Easter I had resolved to visit my family doctors surgery as soon as uni was over. I rationalised that I was moving back to my Mum's so there was no point starting with a GP 250 miles away and making a fuss by attending A&E was still very much inconceivable to me. Furthermore, I was so focused on my studies, working, socialising and planning my trip to New Zealand that I told myself I didn't have time to worry about my health right now.

So in early June, more than six months since the first severw episode, I finally visited the GP. Despite the fact that I had been pooping and vomiting in steadily increasing quantities, I played it cool and pretended (to myself as much as the doctor) that my symptoms were no big deal and I was just there to make sure it was nothing serious. After ruling out a stomach ulcer I was referred to a gastroenterologist.

In mid-August I went to see the consultant, by which time my symptoms had worsened even more. The consultant referred me for blood tests, presumably to look for inflammatory markers, as I told him my brother had IBD. In the meantime, I simply insisted to the world (and myself) that everything was fine and pushed my body pretty hard, working and 50-60 hours a week as a bar person. I was focused 100% on going to New Zealand in October and I somehow came to accept my symptoms as normal, despite the fact that they were now impacting on most aspects of my life. One particularly embarrassing memory involves an amorous evening in the company of my then partner. Let's just say, I thought it was a fart... Thankfully he was a sweetie but even a selective memory cannot rid me of that one!

In the mornings, the minute I opened my eyes (and I mean literally seconds after any sort of consciousness was obtained), my anal sphincter control was tested to the limit. It would be a mad dash to the toilet and I would have to pray that my Mum or brother were not occupying it. Thankfully, they would both get out as soon as they could, but when someone is taking a bath those few seconds are often the difference between near-miss and epic fail! Throughout the day I would be plagued by nausea and occasional vomiting and I endured crippling stomach pains. At night I would be kept awake by the pain and nausea, spending hours just praying for sleep and relief from the constant discomfort in my abdomen, which, at that time was not specific to a particular region but more a generalised feeling of cramps. It was now starting to feel like a relentless, daily struggle. However, I did develop a rudimentary level of control over it. I discovered that I was able to form a cycle with three stages:

I also observed that short episodes of fasting improved my symptoms temporarily. I do not tell you this because I condone it or because it may work for you. Fasting can be dangerous and in Crohn's the risk only increases, as your ability to absorb nutrients is already compromised. I realise now that my body was telling me, in no uncertain terms, that there was a serious problem and it was irresponsible of me to try ignoring that fact. Unfortunately, having convinced myself it was just IBS, I tried to increase my fibre intake. If you are familiar with Crohn's you will probably know that this is one of the worse things you can do!

In early October, having attended my graduation ceremony I was due to fly off to New Zealand the following week. First, however, came my follow up appointment with the consultant. Miraculously my blood test results did not show any cause for concern and I was advised that the cause of my symptoms was IBS. Needless to say I was over the moon and, instead of expressing my underlying concern that this was most definitely NOT IBS, I did the typically British thing of thanking the Doctor for his assistance, wishing him well and quietly leaving. Only later in life have I realise that I know my body better than any doctor ever can (although Matt Smith is welcome to try).

It's worth noting that the doctor also recommended a stool test, presumably to check for Inflammatory markers once more. When I took my sample up two days later I discovered the Path Lab depository does not open on Saturdays. Early on Monday morning I flew out to New Zealand and the stool test never happened. FYI - I have only recently discovered that a stool sample doesn't need to be fresh like I had always assumed - it can be a few days old when you deposit it. Who knew?