Thanksgiving always reminds me of the anniversary that changed my life forever.

I have ALWAYS had a terrible time in the bathroom. The first realization of a bowel problem came to my mom and babysitter after I was born. I use to poop only in pellets. It was never loose or soft. And they said it always took me awhile to go. As I got older, my biggest problem was constipation. My bowel movements were always so hard and so massive. I’d be backed up for weeks on end sometimes. My mom frequently gave me enemas to get the waste out of me.

The kids in school used to tease me for staying in the bathroom for so long and stinking it up while I was there. Needless to say, I was constantly locked in the school bathrooms.

I had come down with a terrible cold in October 1996. However, as time went on, the “cold” changed. I was no longer able to eat or drink without throwing up.

In fact, I began to see large amounts of blood in my vomit and diarrhea. The only thing I could hold down for a significant amount of time was water. My usual “bowel movement time” stomach pain changed to something worse. It felt like my stomach was being crushed on all four sides – plus being expanded from the middle at the same time. The pain was utterly excruciating. We knew then that I didn’t have a cold anymore.

I vividly remember the night we finally went to the emergency room- there was so much snow out, and it was freezing. My dad had come over to help my brother get me to the car. I saw in the mirror just how sunk in my cheeks and eyes were. I could see my bones through my face and my rib cage through my chest.

I was so scared of myself – scared I wasn’t going to make it to the hospital. I already hadn’t eaten or drank in about a month and I was throwing up blood plus having bloody red diarrhea 2-3 times a day. I could barely move around the house without the stomach pain I mentioned earlier.

However, through my fear and pain, I tried to remain calm. If I was going to die, I’d rarely do it calmly and peaceful and without much inconvenience to others. But my mother was hysterical and desperate; believing it was her fault for not having the health insurance to take me to the hospital earlier and for not being able to keep me warm and comfortable because our heat had been shut off that winter.

It was quicker getting to the hospital than it was once we got there. My dad took my brother back home while my mom stayed with me in the ER. What was weird was that the place was practically empty and yet we were there a half hour. I started getting incredibly dizzy from sitting up too long. I didn’t have the strength to move too much anymore.

My mom then demanded that someone come and see us before I passed out. Why it took my mom being hysterical like that to get me medical attention is beyond me – but whatever works.

They couldn’t get a urine sample because I couldn’t pee anymore, and my blood pressure was so low they couldn’t get a read on me. I was then rushed to a room where they struggled to get an IV in me because my veins refused to pop up no matter how long and how hard they hit me due to my extreme dehydration.

The first thing they did once I was hooked up, was give me a blood transfusion. I had lost so much blood over the time I was sick and it wasn’t being replaced. Then I was pumped full of salt water to get liquid back into my body. However, I was still throwing up blood and having bloody diarrhea. They used a long tube up my nose and into my throat to suck up the blood that was floating above my intestine. It took a whole day to clear it all.

After my stomach was pumped, I was scheduled for a colonoscopy. I had never heard of a colonoscopy and the doctors weren’t telling me the specifics of the procedure. Probably because they didn’t want to frighten me. After all, I was still a teenager when all this was happening to me; I was only 16 years old.

I was so very scared.

I didn’t want to be put to sleep – but when they told me a camera had to be placed inside me, I knew I had to be put to sleep. But I was scared to sleep anymore. What if I didn’t wake up? What if I DID wake up right in the middle of the procedure? My mom bought me a stuffed cat and stayed with me and talked to me in my hysteria till I drifted off to sleep. Once it was over, it took a couple of days to get the results.

Two weeks after I was admitted to the hospital; two weeks before Thanksgiving 1996; I was given the news that changed my life forever. The news that finally explained the odd way I had bowel movements as a baby; the reason for my bathroom troubles as a kid; and the reason behind my present illness.

I had Crohn’s Disease.