It’s about more than just pee

June 5, 2016

There’s political turmoil in the U.S. right now around bathroom use. Yes, you read that right. Transgender folks want to use the bathroom that corresponds with their gender identity and conservatives want them to use the bathroom that corresponds with the gender on their birth certificate. While I have some very definite opinions on this issue, there’s one aspect that strikes me as being more relevant for those who have certain chronic illnesses and other medical issues. Or who just poop when they’re not at home.

You see, the argument from transgender folks and their allies is that this is about a simple right: the right to pee. And it is. But it’s also more than that.

I see a lot of these memes, videos, and arguments. I share a lot of them on social media, too. After all, I fully support everyone’s right to pee in a comfortable, safe space. But the thing is, isn’t it about more than just pee? And I’m not just talking about having a private place to pick a wedgie, fix your hair and makeup, or take off those uncomfortable stockings.

For me, public bathrooms, and even private ones, were about more than just peeing. I had around 20 years of undiagnosed Celiac Disease and other food intolerances, so you can imagine what bathroom use was like for me.

I have an unusually strong bladder. I can often go for 4, 6, even 8 hours without peeing. But when I got *that* feeling, there was no choice.

There was the time I was on the highway, stuck in traffic. I got *that* feeling. I knew it was bad. I looked at the stop-and-go traffic and I wondered if I would have to have diarrhea in the grass on the side of the highway. Thankfully, just in time, I got off the road, into a motel parking lot, and found my way to a bathroom. Thank goodness!

Then there was the time I was seeing a show on Broadway for the first time. I was so excited! Walking to the theater, I got *that* feeling. We rushed to the theater, thinking I could quickly use the bathroom, but the doors weren’t opened yet and there was a line to get in. I rushed to the hotel next door, but a guest card was needed to use the bathrooms. I asked at the desk, but they wouldn’t let me use a toilet. I went back to the theater. The doors were open and my mother was almost to the front of the line. I was desperate. As soon as I was through the door I ran to the bathroom. The line for the ladies room snaked down the hall. I ran to the front and asked if I could cut the line. A woman in front said yes immediately, and others followed her lead. I hate to think what would have happened if she’d said no. Maybe she saw the desperation on my face. Maybe she noticed that I was turning a bit white, or even green. Maybe she was just a compassionate person who always helped others. Whatever it was, I was grateful. I ran into the next open stall, and sat down as I felt what seemed like everything I’d eaten in a week leave my body. I was there for a long time. I eventually made it up to my seat, and was still feeling a bit ill. Before the show started, I got the feeling again. I ran back to the bathroom. It was close to curtain, so there was no line. I sat there alone, in the quiet, grateful for the toilet. I got back upstairs just as the opening number began, thankfully feeling much better.

I’ve had more incidents like this than I can count. There have been times I didn’t make it to a toilet in time. Thankfully, those were not in public places. But they could have easily been.

The point is, sometimes it’s about more than just peeing. I’m cisgender, so obviously this particular issue of which bathroom to use doesn’t affect me directly. (It does affect several friends, many acquaintances, and countless people I don’t know personally but who should obviously have the same rights as everyone else.) Still, I can’t help feeling a twinge at all of the talk about how “it’s just about peeing.” No it isn’t! It’s also about pooping! Don’t forget the pooping!

I want to shout it at the tv, at my computer screen, and at every person who says, “it’s just about peeing.” I get their angle. They want to eliminate the politically-motivated distractions being used to force the issue. But let’s not erase the very real problems that so many others are dealing with. It’s about pooping too!

There are certain things all humans do. I get that most people don’t want to discuss them all. But really, why can’t we talk about poop? If we can wipe a baby’s butt, clean out the cat’s litter, and pick up the dog’s poop from the street, surely we can recognize that trans+ folks will need to occasionally poop in public too. And when they do, they need to be able to do it in a safe place.

Because if I hadn’t had a safe place in that theater, it could have been a very messy experience. And no one should have to go through that.

So for all of you out there with IBD, IBS, Crohn’s, Celiac, or any other digestive issue, and for those who simply need to poop, I support you. Let’s win this thing! #itsaboutmorethanpee

4 Comments | Educating, Expectations, Frustration, Gastrointestinal, Isolation, Limitations, Pain, Rants, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

When fatigue becomes something else altogether

May 18, 2016

Well this is different. And I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s not bad, and I’d love to just

IMG_20160517_134701

Yesterday’s visit to the shore wasn’t thoroughly exhausting!

go with the flow and enjoy it. But that’s hard when I don’t know why I feel this way. Not knowing why means that I don’t know how long it will last, or what I can do to help it along.

But I’m getting ahead of you here. I should explain.

It’s common to have fatigue with chronic illness. A lot of people say that pain causes fatigue, but that wasn’t my experience. Yes, pain can be tiring, but there’s a difference between “tired” and “fatigued.” If you’ve never felt fatigued, it’s hard to explain. Have you ever had the flu? Have you felt so exhausted and drained, it was like something was sucking the life right out of you? Was it hard to muster the energy to sit up, much less walk across the room? That’s fatigue. That’s what I felt many days. But I had pain for 8 years before that ever started. So it wasn’t only from the pain.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, and I believe the fatigue started after a bout of mono when I was 20. It was minor back then. It got worse and worse over the years, but it wasn’t until my early 30s that it became disabling. I couldn’t work at all – even the idea of part time work was laughable. Some days I couldn’t shower. Many days I couldn’t leave the house. It was bad.

If you’ve read this blog for a while then you know I’ve worked hard to fix the fatigue. It’s improved bit by bit, not all at once. Each thing helped. My new diet helped. Reducing pain helped. Improving sleep helped. Various supplements helped. Changes to my lifestyle helped. More diet changes helped. More sleep changes helped. Everything helped a little bit, and it added up to more and more improvement. Life felt manageable. Then last month something changed.

I didn’t notice at first. I thought I was having a good day. But that turned into several good days. And then a good week. I used to have 3-5 recovery days per week at my worst. As I improved that number went down. But lately I noticed that I was having even fewer of those days. And when I did have one, I didn’t have to rest nearly as much. Maybe I couldn’t run errands those days, but I could often do little chores around the house.

Then I realized I was doing more per day. Whereas a short time ago I could only do 1 activity per day, suddenly I could run an errand in the morning and still feel up to doing something in the afternoon! What the….? Ok, this wasn’t every day, but it was more than once, and that was shocking.

Then the most shocking thing of all: in the last week I’ve been waking up naturally between 6am and 7am every day and I actually feel ok when I wake up! That has never happened in my entire life (except when I was on Prednisone, of course.) Until recently I rarely woke up before 8:30, and that was with an alarm. Now, after reading in bed for a while, I get up and feel…. not bad! Feeling not bad in the morning is a big deal when you have chronic illnesses!

I think I might know what’s causing this. I started a new supplement to help stabilize my breathing for the sake of sleeping better. This seems to have calmed my sleep apnea and I feel that I’m sleeping better. Even on the nights I don’t use my sleep machine as long, I still get more benefit.

But could that be it? It seems so…. simple. Of course, it isn’t simple at all. I’m sure it wouldn’t be working if I hadn’t changed my diet, changed my life, started using the sleep machine, started those other medications and supplements, and all the rest. Still, could that be it? I haven’t changed anything else.

But the fatigue isn’t all gone.

And that makes sense. It’s not that the fatigue is gone and I’m all better. It’s that the brutal fatigue is gone and it’s been replaced by something else.

I’ll use a cell phone battery to illustrate what I mean. Before, my energy was like a cell phone battery that wouldn’t fully charge. It would only go up to 30% many days, 50% others. But the higher it was, the faster it would drain. Cooking dinner would use twice as much battery as it would for a healthy person. Sitting upright and watching tv used up battery energy. Sometimes it would drain quickly for no apparent reason.

The most striking difference is that now I wake up with my battery at 80% every day! This is amazing! Watching tv doesn’t use up battery energy at all! Cooking dinner uses up the battery a bit, but not nearly as much as it used to. In fact, no activities use up the battery as much as they did just 2 months ago.

Before I would go to bed at night with the battery at 3%. I could barely drag myself to bed. Now it’s at 15%. I’m tired and sleepy. I’m ready for bed. But if something important suddenly came up, I could take care of it.

This is incredible! It’s a world of difference from where I was such a short time ago. I can do more in a day and it isn’t as hard to do things. I haven’t had that dragging feeling. I haven’t felt like someone stuck a vacuum into my side and was sucking out all of my energy. Sure, I haven’t experienced 100% battery (which is what I assume my peers feel when they’ve slept well and aren’t sick) but that’s ok!

It’s only been a few weeks and I don’t know how long this will last. I want to enjoy it, but I don’t want to overdo things. At the same time, while I have more energy, I also have more pain (hello, Spring!) I took a walk earlier. I had the energy to walk further, but my joints strongly disagreed. So be it. I don’t mind. I still can’t believe I took a short walk and didn’t have to collapse as soon as I got home. Instead, I was able to sit and write this way-too-long post!

Please wish me luck. I am really really hoping this is the start of a great new health chapter in my life! Changing the fatigue like this wouldn’t fix everything. But it would be good enough for me!!

7 Comments | Expectations, Fatigue, Limitations, Pain, Raves, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

My fertility isn’t your business

April 29, 2016

Why do people keep trying to convince me that I’m able to have kids?

Ok, I know the answer. It has to do with them wanting to give me hope, them not wanting to see someone give up on something wanted, them not wanting to admit that they might also fail to have the children they want… them them them. It’s not about me.

But it still bothers me.

When I was in my late 20s I decided that I didn’t want to pass on these genes. I had an entirely unhelpful diagnosis of Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease. That roughly translates to some-sort-of-connective-tissue-disease-but-we-don’t-know-what-or-how-to-treat-it. I was looking at 60 years of pain ahead of me and I wasn’t happy about it. No, I couldn’t pass that on to my kids.

But even as I said it, I still hoped I’d somehow have kids. I might adopt. I might marry someone with kids. Maybe I’d marry a woman who wanted to get pregnant. But it still hurt that I’d never be pregnant myself. I’d always wanted kids.

When we had room for an elective in high school, my friends took art and drama. I took a child development class. I started babysitting at 12 and continued to babysit regularly for many years. I was a camp counselor for 6 summers. I always loved kids and always assumed I’d have some of my own. And I didn’t just assume it because that’s the societal expectation (though I’m sure that was part of it,) but because I really wanted kids. The question wasn’t if. It was simply how many and with whom?

So this was a major change in thinking, and it really didn’t help to have people constantly suggesting that I should still have kids. They’d tell me that there was no guarantee my kids would have what I had (and they’d conveniently forget there was no guarantee my kids wouldn’t have it!) They’d say someone might find a cure. Right.

As I moved into my 30s, that conversation stayed about the same, it just became less frequent. My friends knew where I stood, so there was no point in talking about it. No one else brought it up.

But in the last couple of years, something shifted. It’s probably my age. Now that I’m at the do-or-die stage (so to speak) people are asking if I plan to have kids, because if I don’t have them soon, I never will. Ok, I get that. And I don’t really mind that question. What I mind is that they don’t accept my answer!

If I say no, they ask why not. I sometimes say I’m too old, because that’s a convenient answer. But it doesn’t work. I then hear about how their sister’s friend’s coworker had a baby at my age. I point out that their sister’s friend’s coworker was probably married at my age. And already trying to get pregnant. And ready to have kids. And she probably carried the baby for around 9 months before that. I see them look surprised as they do the math. Yeah.

The truth is, I’m single, and I have no intention of having kids alone. I also never wanted to be an older mom. There’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s not for me. I don’t want to be 60 when my kids go off to college. I don’t want to pass along these genes, but that doesn’t bother me as much as it used to now that I have some diagnoses and some treatments that would have worked great if they’d been used 15 years earlier. But I’m still in my late 30s and I’m single, and that’s a problem. Plus I have fertility issues that – funny thing – I don’t go around telling everyone. So even if I can get pregnant, and we don’t know if I can, there’s a good chance it would take a few years.

I think it’s time for some math. Let’s say I meet the love of my life tomorrow. Unlikely, but let’s pretend. We date for a year and then get engaged. I don’t care about a big wedding and let’s say they don’t either, so we’re married 6 months later. Then we start trying to get pregnant immediately. It takes at least 2-3 years to get pregnant. Then 9 months of carrying the baby. We we’re talking around 4.5 years from now. By then I’d be in my 40s. That’s a hard time to get pregnant even for someone who’s healthy!

And that’s if we don’t consider the other reason I can’t see having kids: my symptoms. I can barely take care of myself right now. I struggled to take care of a dog. How the fuck would I take care of a baby?!? Or a young child?!? I’m exhausted after an afternoon with my nephew. I visit my friend and her family for 3 days, she does all the cooking, I stay home half the time she takes the kids out, and it’s still more than I can handle. I couldn’t do that every day without doing real harm to my body. Other people do it. Plenty of you are parents. And I applaud you! But I don’t see myself handling that well right now. And it would break my heart to not be able to pick up my child. But that would be the reality.

And then of course there’s the pregnancy itself. My hormones, my joints…. I don’t see them faring well.

And as if that’s not enough, there’s the part where I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever find someone I want to marry, much less make that happen this year. But see the math above – this year would already be too late for me.

These are all very legitimate reasons to assume that I won’t be having kids. But why should I tell strangers and acquaintances all of this? Why isn’t it enough for me to say no, I won’t be having kids unless I marry someone who already has kids? Why can’t people just believe me and move on?

Probably for the same reason they can’t let it go when I say, “I’ll never be cured.” But that’s a subject for another day.

What about you? Do you deal with this? How do you handle it? What do you say? Please comment and let me know!

4 Comments | Educating, Expectations, Frustration, Insensitive, Intrusions, Limitations, Rants, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

I never wanted to be one of those paranoid people

April 26, 2016

We all know one of those people. They’re super paranoid about what they eat. Was the chicken cage-free? Was the feed free of antibiotics? What exactly is in that dish? What IMG_20160426_141926brands of ingredients were used?

I was never going to be one of those people. Ugh!

And yet, I am.

When I first went gluten-free, I avoided bread, pasta, and other obvious foods. Over time, I started eliminating more and more. Then I paid attention to non-food items, like toothpaste and floss. I was doing a lot better, but I was still sick.

I made phone calls. I checked on hand lotion and sunscreen. I washed my hands before I put anything in my mouth – even a Tic Tac!

I learned about surprising places gluten hides, like lemon juice and cooking spray and got rid of those.

Still, I was getting sick.

Then I found out about kissing. Damn it! If I kiss someone who has been eating or drinking gluten, I’ll get sick. Well, that makes dating a lot more awkward! So I’ve been careful about that, too.

Still, I was getting sick. It was a lot less often, but it still happened. What was going on?

Then I spent 6 weeks at home recovering from foot surgery. I barely left. I ate only food that I’d prepared or carefully checked. And I didn’t get sick once. Hmm…

It felt amazing to not get sick at all!!! I wanted to keep that up! But how? I started being super careful about everything. Ok, I was a bit paranoid. I didn’t eat anything unless I was absolutely positively certain that it was safe. If a friend said something was gluten-free I quizzed them carefully, and then I probably still didn’t eat it. But it was worth it. I remained ok!

Last weekend I went to a family sedar. My mother hosted and was her super wonderful, considerate self – except for the matzah and matzah ball soup, the entire meal was gluten-free. Still, when she and my aunt went into the kitchen to get the food, I asked them to wash their hands because they’d touched the matzah, which has gluten in it.

I’d become one of those people. I hate it. But you know what? It’s a hell of a lot better than being in so much pain. So I’ll keep on being one of those people. So be it.

Leave a Comment » | Expectations, Frustration, Gastrointestinal, Isolation, Limitations, Rants, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

« Previous Entries
Next Entries »