Two days after bid day my freshman year, I got the flu. Like the worst flu I’ve ever had. I was sick for weeks, but eventually it ran its course and I got better -- sort of. Turns out, that flu triggered another, more serious condition that I’m still dealing with today.
In April of 2014, I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Ulcerative colitis, or UC for short, is a chronic, autoimmune condition characterized by inflammation of my large intestine. Essentially, I’ll deal with this disease and the side effects of it at varying degrees for the rest of my life.
The point of this article is not to throw myself a pity party. There are a million and one other things that could go wrong with my body, and I know my situation could be much worse. It took a long time, but I have learned to manage my disease through a regiment of medications and lifestyle changes.
What I mean to focus on more is how this disease taught me to grow up. Looking back at my last two years of college, this episode in my life, thus far, has changed me in more ways than I can count. There is an understanding that moving away to school teaches you to grow up because you are learning to balance a budget or managing your own schedule. Sure, I agree that these things help teach you how to live on your own. But after spending nearly three semesters in college living with a disease that has completely changed the way I go about my day-to-day life, I’ve come to see that it’s hard to grow up unless you’ve hit rock bottom, and had to get on with your life anyway.
Had I received this diagnosis in high school, I can guarantee the way I dealt with it would have been different. I would have been living at home, constantly surrounded by my parents and family who would have given an arm and a leg to take care of me. To be blunt, I would have been coddled. I would not have learned how to manage my UC on my own; I would have been very dependent on my mom and dad to do it for me. My parents still drop whatever they are doing to drive to Maryland (I’m originally from Philadelphia) to come to my doctor’s appointments or procedures. But for weeks at a time I am on my own. At first that was a terrifying prospect, but now, I am confident in my ability to take care of myself.
It’s the little things. Calling the doctor to confirm an appointment. Making sure my medication is ready to be picked up from the pharmacy. Calling my insurance company (a personal least favorite). Knowing my limits and saying no to a night out because I’ve been having a bad day with my symptoms. I don’t have my mom sitting next to me telling me when I should or shouldn’t do something. I still have to apply for internships and do my homework and stay on track with my major whether I have this condition or not. That, I have learned, it was life really is. Getting through the day, the week, or the year and making the best of it even when struggling with a disease that to be frank, really sucks.
Me, me, me. I keep talking about me. I have learned so much about myself since my diagnosis, but I have also learned that so many of my peers and friends deal with issues just like mine. Maybe they don’t have the same sort of angry colon that refuses to rectify itself despite how much I beg it to, but they do have stuff going on. Stuff I wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. I wouldn’t recommend finding a hardship to thrust upon yourself to understand your peers better, but I would agree that living through some hard times makes you appreciate when your best friends are having horrible days.
Before my UC, I lived a charmed life. No worries, everything went according to plan. Now I know that in the blink of an eye, or in the week of having the flu, everything you’ve come to understand about your life can change. It sounds dramatic, but if I had never learned to live with my disease, I would not have learned how to live when times get tough. There are plenty (and I mean plenty) of days where I cry and wish that this had never happened to me. But when I’m not in the middle of an emotional breakdown, I am actually pretty okay with my diagnosis. I understand myself better, and I understand other people better. Looking to the future, I know that I’ll be better prepared to deal with whatever life throws my way.
Going to college completely changed my perspective on life. Not knowing whether I’m going to have a good or a bad day has taught me to appreciate when I do have those good, even great days. I would encourage everyone to appreciate the good and great days, because they’ll mean a lot when the bad days come around. I am writing this article a few days after undergoing my third colonoscopy. That’s more colonoscopies than most grown men have in their lifetime. So it’s safe to say the last few days were some of the bad. But here I am on a normal Sunday night, doing normal things in my room after watching a movie.
Things aren’t always bad forever, and my disease has taught me that. Who knows where I’ll be with this temperamental large intestine of mine in another year. Wherever it is, I know that I’ll have a better outlook on whatever life throws my way.
