Diary of a UTI (drama) Queen – Part 1

5:04am: Eyes ping open… oh no no no no! Run to the bathroom, trying not to wake snoring beauty (Russell) in the other half of the bed.

5:06am: HOLY SWEAR WORD. IT IS LIKE PEEING SHARDS OF GLASS… THAT ARE ON FIRE.

5:07am: Wipe, stand up, wash hands, oh I need to pee AGAIN. Repeat cycle until I feel brave enough to get up and go grab my phone.

5:25am: Back on the loo, scrolling Facebook. The extractor fan is pretty noisy. Hope it wakes Russ up so he can suffer with me and get me a few glasses of water.

5:30am: Googled symptoms. I am apparently dying.

5:40am: Right, One last go at getting up.

5:45am: In the kitchen drinking pints of water – Flush them kidneys out.

5:59am: Toilet then bed. Repeat previous cycle for 15 minutes. Surely this counts as squats? I will look good in a bikini after all…. ha!

6:15am: Jump into bed with an aloud enough sigh to stir Russell. Tell him I am dying and I need attention.

6:16am: Russell pats my head and rolls over.

6:30am: I need to pee AGAIN.

6:31am: Think about what I would do if I won the lottery to take my mind of the radiating pain from my pee hole.

6:45am: Drift off to sleep.

7:00am: Alarm goes off – Why, its a Saturday?! NEED TO PEE. No time for snooze button.

7:02am: Is that it? A little dribble? OH COME ON.

7:05am: Well… I guess this is how I will be spending my day!

 

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Little Ball of Anger and Fury

I am talking about my mood swings, not bowel movements as the title may suggest. This rage filled post is all thanks to my period. Being a woman is just wonderful, isn’t it? Queue sarcastic eye roll…

Now I am an open book so lets discuss periods and dealing with Crohn’s. They both aren’t easy and together they do NOT mix well.

My poo pattern changes, spots come out in force and lets chuck a UTI in for good measure, because my body really hates me! The biggest thing I notice when my period comes though – mood swings.

Clair 1

This week  I have been on hormonal meltdown. I have been storming about the flat like a heavy footed Hagrid, shouting my head off about the littlest thing – All while wearing my over worn house coat and unwashed frizzy hair. Yer a wizard Russell and I NEED you to order a Chinese pronto to make me feel better… But not really as I am a bloated elephant who should only be thinking about lettuce leaves, not chow mien.

And

Breathe.

My gosh – One minute I am laughing, next I am evil eyeing anyone who has the AUDACITY to ask me (usually nicely) to do something. NO.

The only time I have been super happy, was when I met my favourite author Linsey Kelk on Wednesday. My mood slowly deteriorated once I missed my train, realised the actual price of an M&S pizza (usually bought when drunk) and bought chilli crisps instead of cheese and onion – again M&S, chilli flavour go in red packets. Let me tell you, I gripped onto that pizza like I was taking the baby Jesus home to eat as I was not letting anything happen to my expensive piece of happiness – Which I did share with Russell. He deserved it after all…

Clair 3

Luckily, for everyone that as the pleasure of dealing with me on a daily basis. My mood is returning to normal. My head is heading back into the clouds and I realised I can take two loopy painkillers at once instead of two. Adios period, cya in 4 weeks.

Now Russell, where are we on getting a Chinese tonight (my treat)?

Cry Baby…

I had this post to be scheduled for AM today but after my meltdown yesterday I have had to change the content… as all I did was cry last night and this post said I had made it through this round of flaring with only one shed of tears. What a lie that would of been!

I am a well known crier – I always feel better after a good sob. I cry about anything really: happy moments, sad times, angry, hangry, ill.

I cried when Sainsbury’s moved the pizza to a different aisle, I cried when Greggs had no chicken bakes, when I fell on Princess St, I balled my eyes out during Jane the Virgin, I tear up at way too many Facebook videos. I am crier and I can’t stop.

I am good at holding all the tears in, well apart from my face getting red and unable to hold a conversation as my voice comes out in squeaks! So after a lovely meal last night the pain just erupted. I kept my cool then into the car and BOOM floodgates opened. Luckily it was only a 5 minute drive home as we would of needed arm bands to stay a float with the rate the tears where coming out – drama queen or what!

Anyway, today is a new day. I am wearing trousers unbuttoned, my hair in a messy/greasy bun which surprisingly has had compliments (!!!!) and I have a tin of beans and sausages for my lunch. This is my Tinky McGee look and I am fully embracing it… Hopefully without bursting into tears when somebody final plucks up the courage to tell me my trousers are falling down!

It is ok to cry so let those tears flow if you need to! Also, bless Russell for not commenting on my ugly crying face. Do you have an ugly cry face too?

Donald 1

 

 

Embracing the embarrassment…

This post might put you of Oreos for the rest of your life so here is a poo warning. You read on at your own risk…

Today I thought I would share 3 embarrassing moments involving poo and me, as I usually have some poo related incident a week. These moments will now be on the internet FOREVER.

  1. I have mentioned this before but it is too funny not to mention again – my poo sample exploding over the reception desk at my doctors. NEVER fill the sample jar up. They only need a SMALL amount. Lesson was well and truly learnt!KRAFT FOODS - Oreo
  2. Eating a packet of Oreos the day before a poo sample was due was a mistake. My poo came out black in an Oreo crust. I certainly got asked a few extra questions when handing it over. Hilda* (receptionist) and I now have a weird relationship that began over my explosive/black poo.KRAFT FOODS - Oreo
  3. Before I was diagnosed I went on a long weekend up North. The place we were staying at had a Sauna in the bathroom. Of course, my dodgy bowels played up and I had to go. It was bad… the smelliest poo, even to this day to leave me. I was so embarrassed I blamed it on the ‘mouldy’ sauna – I don’t think anyone used it again on the trip!

KRAFT FOODS - Oreo

Sometimes I ask myself why do I share my life so much, but if it gives one person struggling with IBD out there a laugh it’s worth it! I am sure we have all had an uh oh moment involving poo. I certainly have a list as long as my arm with many more coming my way.

I also have embarrassing moments involving being clumsy, drunk, old photos and not thinking before I speak.

Anyway, my point in this post is embrace your embarrassing moments – they make you great!

Embarrassing 1

 

Woe is me

Well haven’t my last few posts been a bit depressing eh!

I promise I am a happy wee ginger most of the time. The posts are just to give you a insight into my not so glamourous life where I spend about 95% of my time in jammies.

If I am not crying/in noticeable pain I mostly looking like the pics below. Smiling, probably drinking a gin or being sociable with coffee and cake. I push myself A LOT to not cave to the hermit life which is why I think people have been shocked by my recent posts.

Although saying that, the soppy posts have opened the flood gates for cake offerings (thanks Uncle Ian!) so I might just have to keep it real with you as long as Nutella is involved. Ha!

Now in the words of Mcfly – 

Oh, you just gotta be happy
But sometimes that’s hard
So just remember to smile, smile, smile
And that’s a good enough start

 

smile 5

smile 3
Happy St Paddy’s Day!
smile 2
Coffee, coffee, coffee – getting me through the day.
smile 1
Rhubarb gin and prosecco is the perfect combo. Trust me!

 

 

smile 4
The smallest gin cocktail but the priciest on the menu.

 

 

UGH, School.

I had a fairly normal school life up until 5th year when I started experiencing IBS like symptoms. That was when I started to hate school and everything started to go a bit wrong. Tears, failing tests and A LOT of sick days.

5th and 6th year was a struggle but when I look back now it was totally understandable. I was in more pain than the average woman in labour but had no access to pain relief or understanding of what my body was doing. This pain was with me every day throughout my Higher education – it was not the fun and sociable 2 years I had been expecting.School 2

No one had a clue what do to help me so I just tried to continue on with life as best I could while taking Buscopan for IBS. Days just got harder though…

Between unsympathetic teachers, exams, university pressure and constant speculation that I had an eating disorder, it was no wonder I wanted to spend my time wrapped up in bed. My exams didn’t go great, my social life suffered and I never ended up going to university. WHY?… As my classmates where able to concentrate on the teacher and learning, I was more concerned about sh*tting on the floor or passing out mid-exam.

I wasn’t diagnosed until the end of 6th year so I had no explanation to give the teachers for a year and a half as they shouted at me when I wasn’t getting the grasp of Pythagoras or falling asleep during a class reading of ‘Death of a Salesman’ I was ill but sadly, they never believed me as I had no proof or medical note to excuse me from class.note

I was monitored for a bit to make sure I was eating at lunchtime. Which then just left me in pain for the afternoon and a big grump. On the outside I was seen as a bubbly girl, always up for a laugh or a joke. ALWAYS talking but in reality, I would cry myself to sleep as I knew the diagnosis of what I had wasn’t going to be pleasant with the symptoms I was experiencing!

Finally I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. I hadn’t been faking being ill, I never had an eating disorder and I could get on with my life. However it wasn’t that easy, obviously.

My school lacked knowledge, support and sympathy to help me. What I should have done was push for more help, get toilet passes, exam help, extra lesson time, extra exam time and work from home days (if agreed by the school of course) but I was embarrassed. Any young IBD sufferers reading this, you are entitled to help. So raise your voice – remember everyone poos to some extent (Probably just not as much as us) and try to get over the embarrassment of this disease.School

In the long run I know I would have struggled with uni so I am quite glad I never went. I now have a full time job, where I am gaining qualifications and I’m not afraid to speak up if I need extra help.

So you young ones out there – you can do anything you want to it, it might just take a few extra toilet trips that’s all x

 

 


 

A wee cry in the sky

Russell and I flew down to Southampton for a friends wedding in Portsmouth (not Plymouth as we originally thought and planned for – oops!) and all was fine.

wedding 3

HOWEVER…

The return journey was not so fine.

(After reading the news I am now blaming the pain on drinking two Costa ice drinks – read here!!!)

Anyway, as soon as our flight took off to head back to Glasgow airport, something inside me decided to cause great pain. It was like I was being continually stabbed while  someone was also twisting my intestine. It felt like my insides were swelling up and I would soon resemble Violet from Willy Wonka (although I am not purple) My feet already looked like little Richmond sausages from the heat so I knew I could pull of this bloated look… just not the pain!

Queue the tears…

It was soon clear that I was the baby on board this flight.

The pain was so bad that not even a game of cards could take my mind of it. This resulted in Russell letting me win a few games to make me feel better (awww!).

For the whole flight I spent it wiping tears away and taking deep breaths as I never had any painkillers to hand. I sounded like one of the mums to be on One Born Every Minute – Can you visualise the scene? A lot of huffing and puffing was taking place while I sat with my jeans unbuttoned crying into a deck of cards.wedding 2I managed to compose myself in time for landing but as soon as I stood up to get off the little propeller plane the pain was heightened. I was walking like I had had an accident in my pants (which surprisingly I hadn’t – yes, I am as shocked as you are!)

Two feet safely on concrete I was sure I was close to passing out. Hunched over clenching my left side, two airport staff came to assist. I knew if I spoke it would just be a wail of pain and tears so Russell tried to inform them I had Crohn’s. To begin with I think they thought I had been punched in the stomach. They couldn’t of been any quicker to react and next thing I knew I was being quickly escorted through the airport in a wheelchair out to the bus stop. Cringe or what?

wedding 1

So where does that leave me? Well I am now fearing for a long haul flight to Florida in November but hopefully Edinburgh Airport are just as nice as Glasgow? I shall keep you posted!

PS. I might now consider adult nappies…