Mortality

Yesterday was World IBD Day. IBD stands for Inflammatory Bowel Disease - Crohn's and/or Ulcerative Colitis - and is basically a group of diseases where your digestive tract is chronically swollen, bleeding, and painful.

I have IBD. And when it hit and upturned my life completely, IBD made me face my own mortality in ways I didn't want, or expect.

Here's the thing about chronic disease. When you are going through the worst of it, you just don't think about it. And people all around you are telling you how strong you are. And if you're like me, you nod and say thanks... but it doesn't really sink in.

In fact, it didn't sink in for me through three very serious surgeries, the rapid loss of over 80 lbs, the time away from my family in isolation, the multiple hospitals stays, the severe pain, severe dehydration, or the shame, loneliness, desperation or tears. I just went with it. I never once thought about the severity in and of itself, or the fact that I quite literally was at risk of death.

But a few years past my worst stages, I look back, and I find shock. Every. Single. Time. I look at pictures of my emaciated body and all I see is a gaunt girl who didn't quite grasp what was happening. Maybe that was a coping mechanism. Maybe it was denial...

No matter what it was, when I look back today I am encountering my own mortality. I came close to death. I can't afford not to think about it. My disease is chronic. It means that although I have a fix in place now, I could very easily find myself back there again. So I need to think about death and what it means. Life is too short to just journey on through the toughest times without open eyes.

Denial may have seen me through my last bout with IBD, but I plan on living through the rest of my life - serious encounters included - with my eyes wide open.

I think we all should. Life is all around us. And the ostriches are simply missing out.