I'll post about the fun girls weekend next time.
This post will be about fucking Crohn's disease. I was supposed to do my Cimzia injections on Thursday, the day I left town. I decided to post-pone the injections by 3-4 days because they make my belly really sore and the injection spots tend to get puffy and sometimes bruised. I didn't really want a swollen tummy at the beach.
I knew going into the weekend that my energy levels weren't the best, but I thought with afternoon naps I would be able to keep up with the weekend. I did okay until Saturday afternoon. My two hour nap didn't help at all. I still felt really fatigued and tired. I had the chills. Maybe it was the sun and water... maybe it was the alcohol the night before... maybe it was because I post-poned my injections. Plus, I had gas cramps. I'm glad I sucked it up and went bowling and sang karaoke though. I got up a few times in the middle of the night to poop (it was diarrhea). I was as quiet as I could be, but I felt bad because I didn't want to wake anyone up with my potty issues. I tossed and turned and accidentally woke Taylor up a few times. I even woke up sweating at one point, which is strange because I was freezing most of the night.
Thankfully, I woke up Sunday morning with enough energy to get me through the beach and car ride home. I took a three hour nap when I got home. After the nap, I was feeling way better until I ate dinner. After dinner, my stomach pain had me doubled over and I was running to the bathroom once or twice and hour.
Side note: I'm living with my family. My mom and dad hear me struggling to make my lunch for the next day in the kitchen. I'm moaning in pain. At one point I was on the floor. My mom got up to see what was going on, I gasped in pain when I told her I was trying to make lunch, and then she just said, "Oh, I used to feel like that after I ate Tijuana." (I hate when healthy people think that they have felt what I feel.) She then went back to the couch. I can't ask her to help make my lunch, but she didn't even offer to help and that pissed me off... which is weird because I hate when I need help. (She gets weird when I hang out with Taylor. Even though those two claim to be liking each other these days.) Don't get me wrong I know they care when it matters, but sometimes I feel like when I don't feel well it's just so normal for them that they don't think twice. They are constantly telling me that I can't live on my own because then I'll have no one to take care of me and I'm like it won't be much different than it is now. The only difference will be that no one will see me in pain.
I didn't really get much sleep Sunday night. Between 9pm and 6am I pooped at least 15 times. I pretty much pooped my brains out. How could that much shit be inside me? The last time I pooped that much was in Texas. (Mom has the nerve to tell me to clean the toilet. I know it needs to be cleaned and when I feel better, I'll clean it. Damn you woman,) I'm just glad this time I had at least some control over my bowels. Somewhere along the way the pain went away, but my stomach was sore from pooping so much. If I didn't have my new job, I would have called in sick. I was so tired. I put on a good face and made it through work with way more bathroom breaks than normal. When I got home on Monday, I did my injections, ate dinner, and then went to bed. Thank God, I only woke up 6 times between 7:30pm and 6:30am to poop. I slept much better.
Today, I feel way better than Sunday and Monday; however, I still don't feel as well as I did on Friday. My bowels are still calming down and I'm hoping it's under control before I start losing weight. I've already lost three pounds, but I think it's just because I'm dehydrated. I'll clean the bathroom tomorrow.
P.S. I got an amazing compliment from my supervisor today about how well I'm doing. It almost made me cry. Damn you, feelings.
