A Game Of Crohn's

The first time I tried to commit suicide, I had just been let go from my job. A job I loved. I don’t think I’m legally allowed to say “fired”. I tried by swallowing all of the xanax that I had (which was a considerable amount at this time, because as I said - I was happy at my job - and would just take the pre-filled courtesy refill prescription every month), and drinking vodka. I don’t normally drink - plus with my crohn’s disease it is not a good idea- so drinking vodka straight out of the bottle? This was pretty tough on me and I couldn’t tolerate much. After a while, I was saying some *seriously* whacked out shit on facebook. One friend of mine - who is a nurse in Ohio - sent me a short message: “are you ok?” and I fired back “NOPE”, and after that she left me alone. A Minneapolis friend (N) was also on high alert as to "Jill-is-scaring-me" and I don’t remember much about him coming over, just that he came over as soon as humanly possibly to be with me. ...

Remember where we were last week? I was just going into surgery for an abscess that Ketchup Klinik had multiple opportunities to catch, from ER doctors to my PCP, not to mention at least 2 in the gastroenterology department. Now I’m under the knife from Holy Hospital, who caught it in under three days. WARNING: GRAPHIC AHEAD I wake up. They tell me what they’ve found. I’m not happy. It is an abscess as they presumed before I went under the scalpel. It’s not only an abscess, though. It is also a fistula . To dumb it down entirely, it’s a hole that bores through your body, and this one bored through to my anus. I can count myself lucky that I don’t have a fistula that bores into my vagina (pus and/or fecal material moving through this opening) or my abdomen. I knew I’d get fistulas when I was diagnosed with crohn’s, I just didn’t think it would be so quickly? So, ok, I have this open wound near my rectum. It needs to stay open and drain all the gross out of it. If it close...

I’ve got a piercing more badass than any you’ve ever had. Or seen. Or probably have ever heard about. It's going to take me a while to tell you this story, and this story AND piercing is not for the faint-of-heart. I’ve warned you, remember that. . Let’s begin at the beginning. I had been at Jen’s just a few weeks when I started experiencing some rectal pain. Rectal pain and crohn’s tend to go hand in hand. She drops me off at Ketchup Klinik’s local ER, I check in, get undressed, get into my gown, blah blah blah - same routine as always. THIS time - however - sticks out, because the PA (physician’s assistant) doesn’t do an exam or any tests. He just loads me up with a bunch of sweet, sweet narcotics, gives me a prescription, and sends me on my way. I call Jen to come and get me. Jen: Well, that was quick! Me: Yeah, dude, they did *no examinations*. Jen: What?? None? No CT scan? No ultrasounds? Not even a digital rectal?? Me: (shaking my head) nope, none of it. Jen...

I didn’t even TRY to commit suicide this time. I turned myself in - first to my sister, then to the hospital - all according to my suicide prevention plan - and somehow I still get put into handcuffs. After I had been reassured by the hospital staff that I would not be handcuffed because I was completely docile and willing to get help. After all - all I could do is sit there and weep; out of will, out of energy to continue to fight, just enough left over for the overpowering guilt to apologize to Jen repeatedly. “Procedure” the deputies tell me. Even though I have presented no danger whatsoever to anyone except myself, and followed my own procedure by letting Jen and the hospital know before I did anything stupid. I ride to the hospital in near-silence, all the while observing how completely unsafe I am. Do you know who looks at the road the least? A cop. Do you know how fast he’s driving while he’s not looking at the road in the deer-infested northwoods? Fifteen mph over the s...