It's about time

It's about time that I say a massive thank-you to everyone who has helped me through my journey so far.

To my mum,
You are my rock. I don't even want to think about how my life would have turned out if I didn't have you standing my by side. You have gone to every hospital appointment, every blood test and every infusion. You've been there through every tantrum, every emotional breakdown, every bad day but you've been there through every happy memory too. When I finished physio and when my infusions stopped, all the rugby games that I've been well enough to attend as well as all of the holidays and day trips that we've had together. The amount of good out weighs the bad and I'm really greatful to have you in my life. I want to thank you for putting up with me and being patient, even when times got tough. With one look you can cheer me up and make me smile for the whole week! I love you.

To my dad,
You do so much for me, without even trying! With one stupid joke, you have me belly laughing for days. You have so much going on with your own health and you still somehow manage to put me and my brother before everything. We are your number one priority and I will never be able to repay you for all of your time and love you give me. Even if we do clash sometimes, you're my dad and I will always appreciate you.

To my brother.
You can be a right dick sometimes but I am really thankful that you're my brother. I want to say thankyou for always putting up with being the brunt of all of my temper tantrums. I never mean anything horrible that I say about you and you know that. I really do appreciate your patience and tolerance with me. Yeah, we argue, but that what siblings are meant to do! We always have each other's backs when shit hits the fan though, no matter what. Matt, I don't say this much, but I do love you. Thankyou for being the best big brother I could have asked for.

To Ben,
You're actually a gem of a human being. Even through everything that has happened in your own personal life over the last three years, you had been my support through everything. From physiotherapist to psychologist to personal BBQ chef! You have become a huge part of all of our lives in the Halmshaw household and I know that we are all extremely greatful for all of the help you give us.

To Adam,
Thankyou for everything. Thankyou for keeping me sane and for loving me through every minute of my crazy life! I know it’s been hard and the road has been long but you’ve stuck by me and I will never be able to repay you for that. You’ve gone to hospital appointments with me, held my hair back while I was throwing up, given me all the ‘get well soon’ cuddles and have been a human pillow every time I needed you. I love you so much and I can never thank you enough.

To everyone else,
Your stories and tales of how you deal with crohn’s and colitis have really helped me through the last 5 years. You guys have made me laugh, cry, feel pain and great joy all at once. All of the tips and tricks that you guys have taught me, thank you. I’m forever greatful for your unknowing help.

THANKYOU

It all gets a little too much

So this one has taken a long time to write, so bare with me.

Life just get a bit hard sometimes.

I wasn’t ready for the events that I would have to encounter in my short life so far, but I’ve had to deal with them and get over it.

The world expects you to be brave all of the time and smile like nothing has happened.

Well it had happened.

And I’m NOT okay.

I struggle but I fight and sometimes I lose. I’m okay with that. I can admit defeat. But I need time to process that defeat. I’ve had to be strong for so long that I sometimes forget to collapse, and lift the world off of my shoulders.

I’m trying to survive and I have to keep telling myself that I’ll be fine and I have to keep my head up, be strong but it’s hard to remember sometimes. There are days where I just want to curl up in a ball and wish the world away. I don’t want to die. But I don’t want to live with this swirling around in my head. In between a rock and a hard place I guess.

I think the worst part of it all is, that I can’t pin point a specific event that has made me feel so sad in myself. I have Crohn’s disease, big whoop. I’ve had to deal with that for 5 years now, so that can’t be stressing me out too much. Admittedly some things within my little world of Crohn’s are changing, but I’ll get on to that later.

Is it because my dad is sick?
Or my mum is having a hard time keeping our family above water?
Is it because I’m worried about how my life going to shit will effect my relationship?
I don’t know.

It could literally be anything at this point.

The third week in May of this year, I got really bad back pain. I went to the doctors, had a routine uti, no big deal, week of antibiotics and I’d be good to go. HOW WRONG WAS I? It turned out that my “routine uti” was sepsis, caused by a burst cyst in one of my kidneys- not fun btw. I ended up being in hospital for two weeks and after having 5 cannulas fail, I had had enough. I made them give me oral antibiotics and they sent me home. I was in pain and I was so tired it was unbelievable! But now I’m back at work full time after having the whole of May off and physically I’m doing pretty good. Mentally? Well, that’s why we’re here!

Anyway, the three different types on antibiotics I was on, in the two weeks I was in the hospital, decided to fuck my liver up. Therefore, I’ve been taken off of my Azathioprine and we’re in discussion about going on Vedolizumab. Not an easy one to pronounce there!
 But hopefully it’ll work and keep my symptoms at bay.

On top of all of that, my dad had started dialysis. He had this tube in his stomach, which allowed him to drain bad fluid out and replace it with good fluid around the kidneys. It was pretty cool and meant that he didn’t have to visit the hospital three times a week. However, he caught something called Peritonitis. Nasty piece of work. Within 7 months, he’d caught and been treated for peritonitis three times. While on antibiotics the second time, he got a phone call saying that there was a kidney ready for a transplant. What a shit time to get such good news. Because he was so ill, his body wouldn’t have coped with the transplant so the operation didn’t go ahead. Back to the bottom of the list he went. But every time you get peritonitis, you’re taken off of the list until three weeks after the infection has cleared. So dad’s chances of getting a kidney anytime soon are SUPER LOW.
The third time he caught Peritonitis, was the worst. The doctors at the hospital decided to take the tube out of his stomach and close all the wounds up with staples, ended up having like 13 or something. The have him a neck line so that they could see if after a month of not doing Peritoneal dialysis, that would lessen the chances of him getting Peritonitis again. In the meantime, he’s doing hemodialysis through the neck line, meaning he’s having to go to the hospital three times a week to get dialysis.

No wonder my mums having a mental breakdown! She’s the one who looks after us. She’s the glue holding us all together. What happens when she falls? I mean, we’re all there to pick her back up, of course we are. But I’m just scared that my family will never be the same.

I probably should go and see a shrink so they can pull the shit in my head apart and tell me I’m being ridiculous and over thinking it all, but I know that’s exactly what they’ll say so why go in the first place? I fully understand that talking to someone will do me good, but that’s exactly why I have this blog. To be my own little on line diary. I can write almost anything down on here and the weight of it all has lifted off of my shoulders.

Thankyou for helping me clear my head a little bit sometimes.