"But You Don't Look Sick" - A Photo Journal

By Vasiliki-Rafaela Vakouftsi from Greece.

“But you don’t look sick”. How many times I have heard this? Maybe I don’t look sick to you but I am sick and my daily life is far from what you may think. 

I tried to captures in pictures my daily routine as a chronic patient and I’m going to share them with you. 

First of all, let me tell you some things about me. My name is Vasiliki-Rafaela, I’m a musician and I have Crohn’s Disease, Adrenal Insufficiency, Psoriasis and Psoriatic Arthritis. I have written a book about my journey with Crohn’s and a book about my life with Adrenal Insufficiency. Also, I really like traveling and I really miss it with the pandemic. 

Now let’s start with the hospital visits…

...the hospital stays and therapies…

...the hospital stays and therapies…

...take the pills, medicines and supplements…

...and maybe today is the day of the week for the injection for Crohn’s…

...or maybe I need the emergency shot for Adrenal Insufficiency…

And now it’s time for a walk.. Don’t forget to carry the pills with me...

...and of course my medical ID…

Back at home again.. Really exhausted...Let’s check the e-mails and read a book before going to sleep

That’s a little idea of how my daily life is. But, you’re right. So before saying “You don’t look sick” think of what is behind the image and what you cannot see…

Growing Pains: IBD Lessons Learned from the COVID-19 Pandemic

In March 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic turned the world upside-down as we knew it -- that, in and of itself, is already the understatement of the year. Disability activist Alice Wong spoke of how the nation’s need for ventilators in hospitals directly conflicted with her needs as a disabled patient; Tiffany Yu, founder of Diversability, used her platform to raise awareness of transparent masks for easy lipreading access. Already, at-risk patients suffered from a lack of attention and space, only for this to be exacerbated by a public health crisis. 

However, the pandemic also offered a chance for those with disabilities, and specifically IBD, to rethink our routines and lives. For example, in my own experience with Crohn’s disease, I’ve found that staying at home during the school semester had me re-thinking all my prior decisions in my relationship with food. It was, in fact, possible to regulate my diet and work in my medications without compromising my education -- the flexibility of virtual classes in university had opened up a new way of life for myself, one where I could sneak off to the bathroom during lecture without worrying about missing key points or bumping into desks. 

Living with Crohn’s, it often feels as though my time is not my own. This phenomenon of constantly running on other people’s schedules is not exactly unique to Crohn’s or IBD as a whole -- in fact, it refers to a concept known as ‘crip time,’ in which society and its timetables ought to bend to meet the needs of disabled bodies and minds. It’s a community-inspired term that essentially encourages us all to work on our own time, taking up space as necessary to meet our individual body and mind’s requisites. 

Whether it’s knowing where the nearest bathroom is, or having accommodations to turn the Zoom camera off, accessibility is an essential cornerstone of working with IBD. As a college student, I’ve found that communication with professors and administrators has become easier in a virtual setting, allowing for flexible office hours and minimal commute to buildings. In all workplaces, key lessons should be taken and continuously applied from the pandemic, particularly in regards to accessibility for disabled folks. 

With this being said, a major caveat is that we as a society are almost always ‘plugged in’ or online -- being available on Zoom has made it near impossible to draw the (much-needed) line between home and the office, allowing professionals to work around the clock. As the world shifts back to a new state of burgeoning normalcy, may we all remember the importance of accommodating disabled folks in the workplace, in-person and virtually. 

For those with IBD or any chronic illness, it is of the utmost importance that we too learn where to place boundaries in our work lives, prioritizing our physical and mental health above all. 

Diversity in IBD: Being Disabled and Asian American

Almost exactly one year ago, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease after a grueling few months of trial-and-error diagnoses by my medical team. Truth be told, the news was a shock to my family, but not for the reasons you may first think of. 

In my mother tongue, there is no widely accepted translation for “Crohn’s disease,” not to mention “Inflammatory Bowel Disease.” In a way, my Asian American identity is one reason why it took so long for me to receive my diagnosis of Crohn’s disease in the first place; my gastroenterologist had not previously thought to test for a condition that was thought to be more common in Caucasians or Ashkenazi Jews. Even amidst official resources from various foundations, it is admittedly difficult to find Asian representation within the IBD community.

As a disabled Korean American woman, I experience IBD through the lens of multiple marginalized identities. At the intersection of ability, ethnicity, and gender lies an incredibly complex set of conversations that society has yet to fully parse out and create space for. 

While chronically ill and disabled folks found themselves facing a morphing status quo that was being overturned by a worldwide pandemic, their fight for accessibility and accommodations was simultaneously accompanied by embroiled racial justice initiatives. The Health Advocacy Summit has written extensively on how racism is a public health crisis, underscoring the need to include all marginalized communities in our activism efforts.

Personally speaking, I came face-to-face with the inevitable intersectionality of advocacy in the fight against anti-Asian hate. In the wake of 2020, the United States began to witness an alarming surge in anti-Asian racism that quickly escalated to violence and hate crimes. As a chronically ill patient, I knew exactly how it felt for an entire community to be marginalized, vulnerable, and at-risk, making it all the more urgent for me and my fellow student leaders to speak up against these acts of hate.

The intersectionality of these two identities is rarely discussed, yet they both mold and inform the other. My diet, my language, and my roots are so intimately tied to my Korean heritage, and in turn, my Asian American identity shapes the way I understand my chronic illness. As Sandy Ho wrote in Alice Wong’s Disability Visibility, “taking up space as a disabled person is always revolutionary,” but especially in the ways in which traditional East Asian attitudes often conflict with the mindset of the evolving American immigrant. 

The same goes for the ways in which Asian culture influences food options for those with IBD. Nandani Bhanot, another 2021 CCYAN Fellow, wrote about how IBD diets and treatments are rarely created with people of color (POC) in mind, alluding to the lack of content on modified diets with traditionally Asian dishes.

Moving forward, I believe that my journey with Crohn’s disease and Asian American advocacy are not unrelated, but in fact, closely tied. Perhaps the best next step our IBD community can take is to create space for disabled POC, uplifting their stories and amplifying their voices. 

"You Don't Look Disabled"

“ You don’t look disabled. 

“You don’t look disabled” but some days I couldn’t go to school because I couldn’t leave my bathroom.

“You don’t look disabled” but I have to go to the hospital every two months for the rest of my life. 

“You don’t look disabled” but I have tried seven different medications for the same disability within three years. 

“You don’t look disabled” but some days my joint pain was so bad I couldn’t even pick up a pencil. 

“You don’t look disabled” but every time I walk into a hospital I am comforted and terrified at the same time.

“You don’t look disabled” but I used to sleep only three hours every single day for weeks because my steroids made it impossible to sleep.

“You don’t look disabled” but some days I can feel my throat close up from suppressing my anxiety.

“You don’t look disabled” but I have sat on my bathroom floor feeling like I couldn’t breathe because the nausea from my medications was so overwhelming.

“You don’t look disabled” but I am. ”

I have never understood why people tell me I don’t look disabled or that I don’t look sick. What is disability supposed to look like? Disability is not singular. Disability does not look one way. Disability is diverse. 

I do not want to prove I am disabled to strangers or people I know.

Though the intention behind this phrase may be to compliment me, I never feel complimented. I feel small. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I am faking my disability in some way. I feel like I do not know my identity. 

It is time for people with invisible disabilities to stop being doubted for being disabled. It is time for everyone to change their perspective of what disability looks like. We must listen to others’ stories. We must stop being bystanders when people with disabilities are doubted. 

Disability is not a bad word. It is not offensive. We should not be afraid of it. 

I am disabled and I am proud. 

This article is sponsored by Lyfebulb.

Lyfebulb is a patient empowerment platform, which centers around improving the lives of those impacted by chronic disease.

Communicating IBD

“‘Inflammatory bowel disease’ (IBD) sounds like a straightforward term — a disease of inflammation in the bowel. However, the history of IBD reveals a story of a nefariously complex set of idiopathic conditions. IBD defies definition, in part because its pathophysiology is not completely understood. For the same reason and despite substantial advances in research, IBD also defies cure. At best, IBD can be defined as a disease of disruption — disrupted physiology, microbiology, immunology and genetics.”1

Repeatedly, one of the challenges I face in having IBD is being able to effectively communicate the severity and uniqueness of the disease to my friends, broader society, and, at times, even myself. The quoted part above from the paper ‘A tale of two diseases: The history of inflammatory bowel disease’ articulates the complexity and vagueness perfectly.

I distinctly remember a time at school when my understanding of the world shifted from ‘adults know everything and humans have control over everything in this universe,’ to teachers starting to draw lines around exactly what is known to us. What’s left out were things even the biggest scientists who got us to the moon couldn’t decipher. During this mind shift, we learned about the limitless scope of space, the depths of the oceans, the uncertainty of what causes psychopaths, and having no cure for cancerous cells, among other things. I remember the fear but also a naïve invincibility that while these uncertainties exist, they will not be applicable to me or my loved ones. But IBD is unpredictable; it can hit almost anyone, at any age. And all the videos I saw on Facebook celebrating the new reaches of technology in healthcare – like that one video of a microcamera in a dissolvable pill helping doctors to see inside the digestive tract without invasive procedures – were just that, videos of research trials. The reality was always so much more ~simple~ with burdensome invasive procedures, like colonoscopies. 

 Medications to “manage,” not cure, IBD, are also primitive in the domain of medication, not outstanding. They always come with trade-offs – like ‘Get your colon back, but lose your bones!’ or ‘Stop bleeding, but eat like a garden rabbit for the rest of your life!’ or my personal fav, ‘Manage your illness in the gut, but leave with debilitating fatigue, brain fog, anxiety and depression! Bonus: It’s all in your head, even your doc won’t believe you.’

Living with IBD can be especially difficult due to you having to explain yourself and your situation so much. People may think you have a variant of food poisoning, or you somehow brought it on to yourself with unhealthy eating habits. The stigma about the ways in which IBD exists gives little leeway to understand the severity of it. IBD is both a hidden blessing (maybe blessing is reaching too far) and a curse, as it forces you to learn to be compassionate with yourself (that’s a big part of the closest thing we have to a cure), but shows you the irresponsibility, ignorance and pure apathy of the society around you. With cancer, for example, the pain and trauma are duly acknowledged by society. There is a sense of responsibility the society (whether that’s friends, school, work, strangers) feels to stand in solidarity and be helpful in those moments. In having a chronic illness, granted it is not cancer but still a very traumatic on-going experience, there is no assumed empathy-net provided in those dark moments.

For people like me, with social anxiety and people-pleasing tendencies, explaining the gravity of what you’re going through can be an impossibly difficult task. As I’m nearing my 5th year of having IBD, I confess I still go back and forth between playing it down to not take away from anyone or carrying resentment for people who could not understand in the past. On my best days – enjoying my iced coffee and spicy Indian food - I invalidate myself and ponder, did I really have it that bad or was it all in my head? On my worst days - on my knees, clutching my abdomen or sweating with AC at full blast at 3AM at night - I bitterly revisit the hurtful comments I’ve received over the years. Life has to go on, and in going forward, IBD patients need to build a society that holds space for them. 

Here are short notes on how I hold space for myself, and ask people around me to do the same:

1. On Badtameezi

In South Asian families, roles in a family are decided according to the age and relation. For example, a younger person, even if more experienced in a certain field, is not allowed to voice his/her opinion on some subjects; it's called badtameezi.

Badtameezi is the South Asian society’s way of manipulating you to exist in a way they deem fit. Practicing privacy, setting boundaries, cutting off from anxiety-inducing family members, and decision autonomy are just a few examples of being a “bad” person. All of the above are obviously necessary for a person with a chronic, stress-related illness, so it becomes important to choose whether you want the badtameez label and health, or tameezdar label and continuously deteriorating health.   

2. On Comparison

In the South Asian diaspora, the competitive spirit is a prominent aspect of life. India is the second most populated country on Earth, soon to be first, and resources are low, perhaps that’s why competition is high. While healthy competition is important in bringing out qualities like hard work and ambition, competition about health crosses lines over to absurdity. Yet, this is quite common. A simple “No, it’s not the same,” or “No, I feel like you’re not understanding what I am dealing with,” or “I’m very sorry you had to go through that. My illness however is very different because…” can suffice. If they’re open to it, you can open up about it more.

3. On Self-Invalidation,

It’s useful to journal during flares, not only for the benefit of your mental health, but also to keep track of your feelings on the worst days. To check in with yourself during those times makes it easier to not invalidate your experiences later on. I don’t have the discipline to keep journaling daily, but every time I am in physical pain, I do grab a pen and notebook to jot down my mental state and thoughts, and I refer back to it in times I forget what my experiences have been like. It’s also helpful to engage with a support group; the conversations around other’s experiences with triggers, symptoms, tests, doctor’s visits, work, friends and family can help you understand and navigate your own. Disclaimer though, everyone’s experiences are different in all the dimensions of the disease; your lived experiences will always be unique. Lastly, I like talking to someone who’s seen me at my worst to remind me how it really was, and that it was not all in my head. This could be a close friend or family member.

4. On Unsolicited Comments,

Just call them out on these. It’s 2021, people need to stop commenting on your weight gain/weight loss and any other changes they see in you, irrespective of whether it's due to your illness. A simple but firm statement like “If I need your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” or “I like it this way,” can help establish a boundary. 

---

1 https://academic.oup.com/ecco-jcc/article/8/5/341/616781

Navigating Relationships with IBD

As someone chronically ill, feelings of guilt, FOMO, and loneliness can be all too familiar. The severity and unpredictability of IBD can take a toll on the relationships you have with others, including romantic interests, friendships, family members, and coworkers. When i was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease at the young age of twenty one, i quickly became frustrated that my poor health was holding me back from participating in classic twenty something year old activities. My unpredictable and debilitating symptoms made it difficult to leave my house, to follow through with plans, and to eat and drink at restaurants and bars. At the beginning of my journey with Crohn’s Disease, I was overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness and guilt when I had to miss out on my college friends' activities. I kept my symptoms and diagnosis to myself, not really allowing any of my friends to understand how to include and support me. 

Sharing your IBD diagnosis with your partner, friends, and family is a terrifying and overwhelming experience. Naturally, we strive to hide our vulnerability, but I hope to deliver advice through my own personal experience to help nurture your relationships and ensure you receive the support you deserve. 

My best advice is to share your IBD diagnosis with the people you surround yourself with. We cannot control how others react to our diagnosis, but we can control what we share with them. I often tried to hide my illness from others, and then became frustrated when disagreements arose over my frequent cancellations from flares as well as feelings of loneliness from no one understanding what I am going through. It’s important to allow those close to you to know what you are dealing with. Remember, someone that loves and cares about you will not be scared by your diagnosis, they will want to support you and be there for you in times of need. The first thing you need to do is allow them the chance to show up and support you. Be honest about how your disease affects you, whether that be generalized as last minute cancelations or going in-depth about the symptoms you experience. 

Remember your self worth. You may have inflammatory bowel disease but IBD does NOT define you. You have amazing, unique and loving qualities that make you amazing with or without IBD. Whenever I have trouble separating myself from my IBD diagnosis, I write down 5 things that I love about myself, whether that be my passion for helping others, my love for animals, or anything else that makes me, me! 

Ask for help. Be honest about your needs as someone with IBD, especially when flaring or on colonoscopy, infusion, injection and surgery days. Your friend or partner might not know how to best help you. Try to be honest and communicate your needs and wants to your partner, friends, and family to be best supported.

Create boundaries. Every person with IBD has different needs. Be honest about what you like and don’t like. Create boundaries with friends and family, especially about unsolicited advice or anything that may bother you. Has everyone heard the ‘you should try ___ (sub: yoga, veganism, meditation, etc.) and you will be cured’? My advice to create boundaries without offending a loved one is to express your appreciation and thanks but highlight how every person with IBD is different and that advice like this negatively affects you. Again, put yourself first. If someones advice or actions are bothering you, speak up and share that with them. Most of the time, people are only trying to help and this will help guide them to most effectively support you. 

As someone dating with IBD, the psychological aspect that can join a chronic illness, along with physically feeling sick, can create obstacles in relationships. Communicating with honesty will allow all parties to a relationship to feel loved, wanted, and respected. I truly hope these tips will help you navigate and make the most out of your relationships.

World IBD Day: What's Something You Wish People Knew About Living With IBD As a Young Adult?

"What’s something you wish people knew about living with IBD as a young adult?"

Savannah:

As a young adult with IBD, I wish others knew how hard it is to balance nurturing our health while also taking part in classic twenty something year old activities. Not only do we have to focus on our health everyday but we are also navigating the world, discovering who we are and what we want to be. IBD doesn’t define us and our goals, but it sure does impact us on a daily basis and creates significant barriers. 

Andre:

Having IBD as a young adult robs you of fully experiencing your youth. Most of us are diagnosed between the ages of 18-26. These are formative years that will influence the rest of our lives, but we are not afforded the opportunity to experience the same highs as our healthy peers. This does produce a high level of perseverance, but the isolation and FOMO will always be present. 

David Gardinier: 

I wish people knew how much energy is at a premium for us. I feel like with IBD, I have a set amount of energy each day. If I use all that energy up during the day in my internship, I don't have any left for the rest of the day. This is especially true when I go out and play ultimate frisbee. I wish everyone else knew that I am not just being lazy halfway through the game, but that I actually get tired twice as fast as everyone else even though I am doing the same amount of work. It can be frustrating knowing that my disease will hold me back from performing the same as other people the same age I am. The more people that know how much fatigue impacts young adults with IBD, the more empathy will exist surrounding this disease in our population.

Jennifer:

Tackling a chronic illness as a young adult is overwhelming, to say the least. To fight a disease that can neve be cured, while simultaneously trying to figure out who you are and what you want to do with your life -- well, that’s hard enough as it is. I hope people can be compassionate towards young adults with IBD, realizing that we are battling a fight they may not always see.

Sara:

Many people have the wrong conception about young adults who live with IBD. They think having IBD is karma, especially for those from Asian countries because their life is filled immensely with strong cultural and religious beliefs. This thought that IBD is caused by Karma is unacceptable and should not be entertained. Living with IBD is not karma; in fact IBD patients are warriors. Young adults with IBD are brave and super strong people. In today's world, they face so many challenges in their daily life, such as family, relationships, finances, and social pressure. But still they never give up in overcoming those challenges and prove their life is beautiful.

Nathalie:

I wish people knew that living with IBD as a young adult does not make me too weak to handle things. Sometimes people keep things from me to protect me or because they think I’m going through too much to hear about someone else’s life. I believe these intentions are honestly kind, but it’s okay to ask for my support. My normal is different from a lot of other people’s normal and that's okay. I don’t feel like I’m going through too much and I don’t feel weak, my IBD isn’t tragic, it is just a part of my life. 

Kumudini:

I just wish that people knew it's normal for any human being to use washroom the number of times one wishes. Moreover, nobody is voluntarily willing or would like to time pass there. Its absolutely normal to miss appointments and give us the space of silence. We did not invite this disease by unhealthy eating habits. We never would like to refuse any yummy food, it's just that we love our intestine so much and we do not want to dump it with something which doesn't suit it.

Vasiliki:

Getting diagnosed with a chronic illness such as IBD is always a difficult condition. It is even more difficult when you receive this diagnosis at a young age. You suddenly find yourself dealing with issues that have to do with your health; you try to find ways to improve your health and balance the daily life of a young person with the life of a chronic patient. This is not always a straight line, sometimes you encounter obstacles and difficulties, but with will and effort you overcome them and move forward. The most important thing for me in this whole journey is to find allies who can support you and help you effectively. Αnd of course in no case do not give up your dreams. Τhe difficult days will come and go, but life is in front of you even if sometimes it is cloudy. Remember that you are more than your illness! 

Disability Makes Me Feel Colorful

When I was first diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, I remember hating myself. For so long, I was so angry at the world. I was angry because I couldn’t run anymore. I was angry because I was in pain. I was angry because I felt like I wasn’t capable of anything. 

The stigma of disability is often composed of beliefs that people with disabilities are too sick to do anything, are not capable, and weak. 

Years later I realized the only reason I hated myself and hated my disability was because society made me believe that having a disability was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. 

People would frequently tell me things like I should reconsider what I wanted to do with my life because of how my illness would impact me. I have been told that it was surprising I could even do what I have done in my life. I have been told that I would be in pain forever.

I have had doctors not believe in me. I have been blamed for my illness. I have been shamed for my weight, for not eating enough, for not trying hard enough, for being too tired, for eating too much “fast food” and an endless stream of hateful and hurtful words.

Sometimes even members of my own family would shame me and suggest I caused my own illness. I think that hurt the most. 

But they could not have been any more wrong. 

Living with a disability allowed me to see my black and white world in color for the very first time. 

My disability gave me inspiration for my future career. It allowed me to realize what my true passions and dreams were. It allowed me to appreciate the smallest, tiniest things that no non-disabled person would ever be able to notice. It opened up the door for new hobbies. It empowered me to focus on my mental health. More than anything, it gave me a second chance at life. 

I live for myself now.

I started painting which is weird because I used to only be able to draw little doodles on the bottom of my notebooks. 

I do yoga when before I would over-exercise and tire out my body. 

I found out about Trader Joe’s vegan chocolate chip oatmeal cookies with coconut (only after the very serious hunt to find snacks that were IBD friendly for me).

The air tastes better. Songs are not even songs anymore; they are seven different melodies and sounds happening at the same time and I can appreciate every bit of it. Every time I take a step without pain, it makes me feel like I am walking on clouds. The sun feels warmer.

I feel colorful. 

Personally, my disability was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It is difficult. It is painful. It is exhausting. 

But it does not make me weaker than anybody else, less capable than anybody else, and I do the same things anybody else does, and I do it while I’m sick too. 

This article is sponsored by Lyfebulb.

Lyfebulb is a patient empowerment platform, which centers around improving the lives of those impacted by chronic disease.

Tribute to Khichdi - A South Asian IBD Comfort Food

Note: While Khichdi is regarded by many as a nutritious, can-do-no-harm food, and has existed in ancient ayurvedic literature (ancient Indian medicinal journals) as a food that cleanses and heals the digestive system, the food is not a one-stop solution to IBD, and there is always the chance that it does not suit everyone’s bodies. My views are not medically backed, as I am not a nutritionist, dietician or doctor; I talk about my journey of IBD with a food that has become dear to my heart (and tract).

Khichdi has a soft spot in the hearts of many South Asian people, not limited to just the IBD folks. It’s appeal to such a diverse diaspora over a varied amount of time is amazing but not surprising, due to its flexibility in becoming anything it’s fans desire. In India, a country with many inequalities, khichdi is a dish that can both dress up fancily as a wholesome comfort food for some, and strip down to a humble meal that provides a day of nutrition for others, becoming a unique thread that ties the polar opposite lifestyles of the rich and poor of India. It simultaneously also acts as a thread connecting the ill and healthy, with Ayurveda texts prescribing it as a staple meal as part of a larger lifestyle free from illness and pain, but is also a very popular meal outside of Ayurveda. It has its place in popular literature1, journals of travellers2, was chosen to be the main showcased food for World Food India 20173, has a dedicated restaurant to capture its varieties4, and is used widely as holy offerings in Hindu temples5. The meal has countless variations in all the states across the country, retaining its quality of being a trusty comfort food at its core, a pretty big feat considering all the various ways the states of India differ so widely.

When I first started showing symptoms of Ulcerative Colitis, among my many concerns, one big one was how my diet was going to be constricted to only khichdi. For a lot of the South Asian community, this restriction to their diet as they were diagnosed/even now when they show symptoms, is very relatable. I had observed a few years of my brother’s diet with UC before I started showing symptoms myself, and I cringed at how disciplined he was expected to be in eating bland khichdi, oftentimes for multiple meals, for days, weeks, even months at a time. My first few years of having UC, I followed the same path for the first couple of years, following treatment only in the Ayurvedic realm, which required many bland bowls of the rice meal. It’s safe to say I was sick (not the IBD way) and tired of it. It wasn’t until I was out on my own, in rural India for the first time, that I realized my need and dependence on the food I had come to rely on so much after learning to listen to my body. During my first few weeks of being in a remote village managing my flare ups, I was uncomfortable on many levels, and yet my memories shine with gratitude for the few times I was able to successfully find and/or be invited for a warm and simple meal of khichdi. It had effectively found a place in my heart as the one and only food that I could rely on, even in the remotest of places. 

Below are my recipes for a flare-up version a and normal version I like to enjoy as my go-to comfort food:

Plain Khichdi (Flare-Up Version)

Ingredients:

1 cup rice (any, preferably broken)

¾ cup lentils (yellow mung split)

7-8 cups water

1-2 Tbsp ghee (clarified butter)

½ tsp turmeric

Salt to taste

Steps:

1. Wash rice and lentils in a bowl, and add to a pot on a stove.

2. Add salt and turmeric and bring to a boil.

3. Cover and put in on a medium-high heat. It will take 15-20 minutes to cook. It’s best to keep stirring occasionally and checking to get a porridge-like consistency.

4. When cooked, pour into a bowl and add ghee on top. Enjoy!

Khichdi with Vegetables (Normal Version)

Prepare Khichdi same as above.

For the Vegetables:

Ingredients:

2 inches bottlegourd, peeled and diced

1 carrot, peeled and diced

1 green bell pepper, diced

1 tomato, medium sized, diced

1 onion, medium sized, diced

1-2 Tbsp ghee

¼ tsp garam masala

¼ tsp paprika

Salt to taste

Steps:

1. While khichdi cooks, heat up a frypan with ghee.

2. Add the onion. When the onion turns translucent, add the tomato.

3. Add salt so the tomato mushes up quicker.

4. Add the carrot and cover the pan. Keep stirring occasionally. If needed, add water to fasten the cooking.

5. When the carrot is soft, add the bottlegourd. Cover the pan and let it cook, checking from time to time.

6. After the bottlegourd is cooked as well, add the bell pepper.

7. Depending on how mushy you like you bell pepper, add your spices (garam masala and paprika) and remove from heat. Keep the pan covered for some time.

8. Plate on top of the bowl of khichdi. You can add more ghee on top as per your liking. Enjoy!

9. Khichdi is generally paired with plain yogurt in India, as well as pickles and papadum (crispy lentil chip).

1 https://www.moralstories.org/birbals-khichririce/

2 https://www.thebetterindia.com/119823/khichdi-history-brand-india-food/

3 https://seachef.com/khichdi-gets-ultimate-boost-to-be-promoted-as-brand-india-food/

4 https://khichditgf.com/

5 https://metrosaga.com/indian-temples-and-their-prasadams/

Invisibile Disabilities

When we hear the word disability, our mind goes to a wheelchair, mobility problems, deformities and everything else obvious.

But is disability always visible?

The answer is no. Disability is not always visible.

Society's prejudice and stereotypes about disability want the individual to show obvious signs of disability. Inadequate information, distorted perception and misinformation perpetuate these stereotypes. People with chronic diseases, such as some autoimmune diseases, but also other diseases, often have nothing in their appearance that openly displays their disability.However, people with these diseases experience a form of disability, vital functions of their body are affected and their lifestyle is shaped accordingly. The professional status of the individual and / or his socialization and integration into society can also be affected. They depend on expensive treatments, they need several hospitalizations, surgeries, etc.And as if that were not enough, they have to fight a battle as "invisible" in a society full of prejudices and stereotypes, a society that discriminates against their disability.

I do not think there is anyone who does not want to be healthy; everyday life is hard in a society that daily degrades your dignity. Almost every day you have to prove yourself, and explain again and again..because you have an invisible disability. And to be treated in the worst way, because you do not fit the mold they have as a given.

Is the state responsible for this situation? Of course state has a great responsibility.It is the state that has the obligation to educate and sensitize the citizens about the various forms of disability, to cultivate mutual respect. It is the state that has the obligation to ensure the conditions for the integration of people with disabilities in society, to give people with disabilities equal opportunities for education and work, insurance and care. And above all, the state is the one that, in the difficult economic and social conditions in which we live, has a DEBT to protect people with disabilities and to defend their rights.

People with disabilities do not ask for sadness and pity, they ask for equal treatment.

But let's start with something basic: Let us not judge others by their appearance. We never know what battle they are fighting and what is hidden behind their appearance and their smile.

Calling in Sick and IBD

Hustle culture - committing your life to your job and career - has become normalized and even expected in young adults. After graduating university, many find their self worth linked to their career, earning promotions, competing with coworkers, and impressing your boss. As a twenty something year old with Inflammatory Bowel Disease, the struggle to balance work with your health is never ending. 

Those with a chronic illness understand not to take life for granted and that each day can be as unpredictable as the next, but we often forget this and get caught up in prioritizing a career over our own health and wellbeing. Calling in sick to work is inevitable, everyone has to do it at some point in their lives, whether it’s for a mental health day, the flu, or a flare-up. Yet, there are so many negative stigmas around missing work and around prioritizing your body. 

The feelings of guilt that come with calling in sick to nurture your body, whether you see your body deteriorating, know a flare is coming, or if a flare comes out of the blue, can be overwhelming. The stigma associated with hustle culture and calling in sick can feel disheartening. I have always had a hard time taking a sick day, and I always felt like I was letting my boss and coworkers down and that I wasn’t worthy of employment. Intense feelings of frustration and annoyance invaded my mind when debating whether to call in sick and these intrusive thoughts caused my body more stressors on top of being physically ill. I often remind myself that prioritizing my body is my number one job. Without my health, I wouldn’t have a job and I wouldn’t be able to participate in all the amazing experiences life has to offer. 

A helpful comparison to calling in sick is the safety instructions reviewed when boarding a flight, right before take off. The flight attendant always reviews the emergency instructions, stating that if the plane were to lose oxygen, you are always to put on your own oxygen mask before helping someone else. Putting yourself first will enable you to not only succeed at your job, but also to succeed in other aspects of life. If you were to ignore your body’s signals that you need rest, you will become more sick and risk the most important thing, your health. 

You are not weak, undeserving, or less important than your colleagues and friends because you need to call in sick more often than the average person. You are strong, resilient, and brave. We battle a viciously unpredictable disease that many do not understand. Do not let your worth be measured by whether you call in sick. I challenge you to listen to your body and honour what your body is saying, you never know how far you will fly until you respect and love yourself and with that includes respecting your body’s limits. 

Recently, I took two sick days at work due to a small flare up and my boss and coworkers were overly supportive. Although feelings of guilt surfaced when I was making this decision, the second I returned to work, everyone showed how much they cared about my wellbeing.

If you are experiencing toxicity in the workplace, contact the Human Resources department. If your company does not have a HR department, set up a meeting with your boss or manager. If you continue to be pressured to not take sick days, to put your job before your health, this may be time to look for another job and boss that cares about you and allows you to put your health first. 

On this note, being able to call in sick has undeniable privilege. Many people across the world are unable to call in sick without suffering financially or being penalized at work. Openly having these hard conversations during the hiring process or with your HR department will contribute to breaking the stigma and providing accommodations for those that are chronically ill. It’s important to speak with your boss or HR representatives regarding sick leave, paid sick days, and working from home options. Speak up to your government representatives and express the need for a handful of mandatory paid sick days across your province or state.

Caregivers: Spotlit in the Shadows

Recently, one of HONY’s long (12-part) post blew up, allowing another miracle to be added to the community’s ever-growing testament to human generosity and compassion. The posts follow the journey of Cristy’s Kitchen, through Cristy’s life, roles and perspective. A mother to 5 girls, she started experimenting with food recipes only when her first daughter started showing autoimmune illness signs as a teenager. It’s been made clear from her story that she first started her recipes, which have since garnered significant attention from many people all over the world, only because she wanted to help her daughters with their illnesses. Her life and actions speak of love, grit, determination, hope and faith, and I think some of us, as patients of autoimmune diseases, can relate to having people like her in our own lives, carrying us in our darkest moments.

 Caregivers undoubtedly play an immense role in a patient’s life. It can be argued that for chronic conditions like IBD, personal relationships with family, friends and significant others can ultimately only last if the relations juggle their roles between being caregivers and their normal roles (father, mother, sibling, significant other, friend). The mix of the uncertain characteristics of chronic autoimmune conditions with the current overburdened healthcare systems across the globe, caregivers are the ultimate backbone that help people survive not only through the physical realities, but also through the psychological, emotional, and financial turmoil. Yet for all we say about invisible diseases, not much is said about this significant invisible labor. Caregivers not only help us, patients, but are the unacknowledged help to doctors and hospitals, when they help buy time for diagnosis, and take our rollercoaster up-and-down rides with us.

  Caregivers: A South Asian Context

Generally, in south Asian communities, mothers already shoulder the huge burden of bringing up children and caring for their wellbeing, oftentimes even at the cost of their own health. For young adults with IBD in India, the role of the mother as a prominent caregiver is heightened and intensified for two main reasons: (1) overburdened private and public healthcare systems, (2) lack of mental health normalization and support infrastructure. It is also important to acknowledge, however, that prominent caregivers can also be fathers, older siblings and other family members just as much as mothers. It is normalized to blame these caregivers, more often than not mothers, for any “defects” that a child may have, whether that is due to the child not adhering to the community’s rules, or because the child is unable to perform in a way that the community deems fit. IBD and autoimmune conditions from a south Asian lens is widely considered a fault, and one that cannot be tolerated to come out of nothing, leading to further the idea of blaming the mother for not doing enough and/or failing to stop the illness. However, as patients, we eventually come to accept and acknowledge the curious nature of autoimmune diseases (that they cannot be predicted, nor caused or solved), and we witness not only our grit during hopeless times, but also frequently, the origin of that: the love, grit and hope our caregivers show. To have that labor and foundational support go unwitnessed and unpaid by the world around us is one thing, but hearing negative comments that place blame and point fingers is another. 

In my personal circumstances, my mother was the first person I revealed my symptoms to, the only person to accompany me to every doctor’s appointment and lab appointment, and stayed awake with me on countless nights as I turmoiled through the pain and bathroom visits during my flare ups. She outstandingly also showed up when I took the decision to spend a year in rural India, with limited and chaotic bathroom, food and water provisions, riddled me through my bursts of insecurity, and stood as an unwavering pillar of physical and emotional support when I was hospitalized. I can say for certain that I only survived ulcerative colitis and my year in rural India because of her. In my sibling’s case, my father went above and beyond being his main caregiver, and at times, mine too. And yet, while I try to distance myself repeatedly from the guilt of having an illness that has no clear cause, I also deal with people blaming my parents, trying their hardest to find a recipient for the blame. It is heartbreaking.

 These comments not only arise from common people, but can also show up in the tone and words from well-educated and trustworthy people, like doctors. While it may seem that the above actions are on the list of expected actions that a mother/caregiver has to carry out, it is important to highlight that it is absolutely not necessary and still constitutes labor and time that could be used elsewhere in return for payment. Additionally, from a productive economy/labor perspective, IBD patients are almost only “productive” to the economy due to the invisible support of their caregivers. This is yet another reason that begs policymakers over the globe to consider the unique circumstances of patients of chronic autoimmune diseases and recognize the unbeatable power of caregivers in their fight.

10 Things to Know If You're Recently Diagnosed with IBD

Newly diagnosed with IBD? I wish you knew these first.   

Growing up as a teenager, I was a perfectly healthy child. I ate regularly; I was active and a bright kid who never had any particular routine or lifestyle that I used to follow. But everything started turning upside down once I started seeing symptoms. An bigger tragedy was when I almost felt like the game had ended after being diagnosed. No! Not at all. The actual game starts only after the diagnosis. Our bodies are always changing with IBD. From one day to the next, we don’t know how we are going to feel or what is going to happen. So it is of the upmost importance to know yourself and your body first. Ignorance certainly isn’t bliss here. If you feel like IBD is ruling your life, it’s time to take back the control. Here are the 10 things which I would like to share with all those who are newly diagnosed with IBD:

1. Educate yourself: Knowledge is power. Understanding IBD leaves you better equipped and empowered to manage it. There are many patients out there without enough knowledge about their IBD. It’s our responsibility to know everything we can about our disease and also our bodies. Take the time to learn everything you can. Read and discuss as much as possible with your doctors. 

2. Track your symptoms and triggers: Learn about your own symptoms and triggers. Many doctors suggest maintaining a food diary so that your doctor may be able to use the data you gathered to help guide your treatment plan. We can understand our daily life and limit what happens to us by doing this. 

3. Never miss your regular follow ups: After reaching my first remission, I assumed I was completely cured and had stopped my regular check-ups and follow ups with my doctor. The penalty for being so ignorant came with a cost of having the next severe flare up within the next few months which completely drained me and pulled me back to square one. IBD is a disease which needs to be managed and if you feel symptom free, you are not cured, it’s just that your medicines are working and controlling your symptoms. So it is important to have regular consultations with your doctor and monitor the functioning of your systems. 

4. Make every appointment count: Be well prepared as to what you need to discuss with your doctor before hand as most of the appointments will be limited to 10-15 minutes and you tend to lose out on discussing important stuff. You can even jot down pointers on paper before entering the doctor's cabin. 

5. Don't be afraid to ask for more information: The time slot allotted for each appointment may be limited. That doesn't mean you need to limit your queries and clarifications. Make the best of that limited time. For instance, if you’re being treated with steroids, ask for detailed information about how this medication could influence how you feel, the side effects, mood swings, weight gain, and such.

6. Know your treatment: First, know what kind of treatment the doctor has put you on. Whether it is the traditional treatment or biologics or allopathy or any other alternative therapies. Understanding your treatment can help you know what is happening to your body and analyse your recovery rate to attain symptom free life by choosing the best that suits your body as what suits others may not you and vice versa.  

7. Emotional health is equally important as your physical health: There could be days when your entire body hurts and there is nothing you can do. There could even be days when you don’t even want to move because you are so exhausted. During those days it’s not easy to control your emotions as you tend to feel more low and helpless. But you can still fight back by choosing to feel “it's OK”. Don’t let your IBD control you.

8. Coping with Stress: Stress doesn’t cause IBD, but it can sometimes make symptoms worse. Stress relief is crucial if stress provokes your flare-ups. Learning how to cope with stress and anxiety isn’t always easy. But it’s really important for us to keep stress under control. Yoga, meditation and music could be a few tools that may be helpful in this. 

9. Reach out for help when needed: IBD can be an embarrassing disease. It’s normal to feel alone sometimes. At a young age, we are taught not to discuss what happens behind a bathroom door. This can leave those of us with IBD, feeling extremely isolated and even hopeless. This can impact our self-esteem and quality of life. It's utmost important to have some go to people who understand these challenges and support us in every step of our journey. 

10. Nutrition matters: Understand how your system works and choose what goes into it rightly. When the intestine is under attack, it has a hard time absorbing nutrients. Therefore it's important for us to be aware of what we eat. Follow a low residue diet to relieve abdominal pain and diarrhea. If you have strictures, it is especially important to avoid nuts, seeds, beans and kernels. 

These are few of the things which I feel we need to keep in mind and plan our lifestyle when newly diagnosed. Knowing these pointers at the initial stages makes our lives much easier.  

Ostomates and Intimate Relationships

Imagine you are in a relationship with a person and you want to take that relationship to the next  level by taking the step towards being physically intimate. You take off your shirt and you hear a  gasp. “What is that?” You look at your partner’s face and follow their gaze to your  torso and you realize something at that moment: you had never told your partner what it means to be an ostomate. Ostomates live with a part of an organ exposed outside of their body but  usually secured in an ostomy bag for the rest of their life. Although at first it is difficult to adapt to  this visible change, ostomates soon became comfortable and adapted to their routine well.  However, this new life for ostomates brings some changes to their personal life, especially to their  physical relationship with their partner. Both ostomates and their partners should take steps to understand about ostomy life and give each other the benefit of doubt to further improve their  relationship in a more intimate sense. 

An ostomate should prepare themself physically and mentally to discuss their condition with their  partner. This is important and necessary because post-surgery will bring a major change to their  body. Along with it, an ostomate may feel anxiety, fear and concern about their body. Ostomates have to express their fear and worry to their partners to alleviate their distress of this new  situation. An ostomate should understand that they can never ignore and hide their stoma from their partner forever. They should initiate small talks with their partner especially when they are ready  to engage in physical intimacy after surgery. They can talk about what happened with the surgery,  how the post-surgery life looks like, what is a stoma and how it looks like, ostomy pouch and what  it does and how they change it and so on. These small conversations will directly educate their  partner about what kind of changes an ostomate is going through and give them insights into what  being an ostomy means to their relationship. An ostomate can take the following steps in order to  engage in sexual life with their partner. 

• Take time and slowly expose the pouch and stoma to your partner. Your partner may show  reactions such as shocked, scared, or even curious. Or they may not show any reactions  as they are not sure on how to react to a stoma. They may not be sure on how to react  also. Don’t get angry or disappointed with their reaction or lack of reaction in some cases.  Most of the time, a partner will worry that they may hurt the stoma and dislodge the equipment during intercourse. Be patient and tell them how it does not affect your sexual life and how they can help you so it does not hurt during intercourse. Give your partner  more time to ensure they feel safe, secure and comfortable to be together with you. 

• Take care of your pouch. The type of pouch plays a role in ostomate sexual life. It  will be good if you wear a non-transparent pouch. Non-transparent pouch prevents your  partner from seeing the exposed stoma and the contents of your pouch. The reason is,  they might be scared to engage in sex when they see your stoma. So try a non-transparent pouch or alternatively you can buy or design your own “pouch covers”. Pouch covers can  become a fashion statement and it can make you feel good too. Additionally, ensure your pouch is empty before engaging in intercourse. This is crucial to ensure there is no leakage  or unpleasant smell during intercourse. You have to keep everything clean and neat  beforehand to make it comfortable for both yourself and your partner.

• Monitor your diet before engaging in sexual activities. See which food helps you and which  does not. A good diet can lead to an improved sexual relationship between you and your  partner. Avoid foods that create gas and odor especially beans, broccoli, corn, cabbage,  and peas. Experiment about which food causes bad reactions and gas to you and avoid  them or at least eat them sparingly. This will prevent your stoma pouch filling with gas. To  keep it safe, try to use a gas filter pouch as this will keep your pouch flat and deodorize the gas. 

An ostmate’s partner can also take several steps to ensure their relationship with their ostomate  partner is healthy and good. As ostomates, they might go through a difficult time adjusting and even fear rejection. So, as a partner, be patient and give them time. As an ostomate’s partner, you can follow  the following steps to have a better intimate relationship with them. 

• Don’t jump into a sexual relationship right after their surgery. You should remember that  ostomy is considered major surgery and your ostomate partner needs time to adjust to  their new normal. The surgery does not only put stoma outside but there is a high  possibility of bowel and fistula track removal for those who have Inflammatory Bowel  Disease (IBD). Your partner definitely need considerable amount of time to heal and gain  back strength following their surgery. 

• Be mindful of your reactions and try not to create any distance with them. Your ostomate  partner may feel rejected and feel lonely. Communication is the key solution in any issue.  If your partner does not initiate their post-surgery life, try to initiate that conversation  yourself. For instance, discuss with your partner about physical intimacy and experiment  with different positions so that they may not feel uncomfortable. Keep in mind that most stoma patients will not engage in intercourse for weeks or months after surgery. 

• Seek professional advice from sex consultants, Enterostomal Therapy (ET) nurses, or IBD  advocates to educate yourself about your partner's sexual issues. Generally,  professionals will provide solutions to improve on both you and your partners’ emotions  and also how to manage your sexual life. Professionals may not solve the core problem  for you but they will be able to provide suggestions, or solutions from their research and  work with other patients. They can also talk about your concerns, make you understand  your feelings better and give meaningful and constructive advice for you. 

Being intimate is highly possible for an ostomate and their partner if both take time with their new  situation and be supportive of each other.  Be positive and engage in activities that make you happy and healthy. When you find a new  partner, talk to them about your ostomate life and be open to answer questions honestly.  Communicating with each other about your needs, wants, concerns and fears can go a long way  in ensuring a healthy and meaningful life together.

Celebrating Black History Month in the IBD Community

“Representation creates trust, so why aren’t there more people who look like me included in research and education?” This quote by Melodie Narain-Blackwell brilliantly describes the feelings that so many Black and brown IBD patients have. In recognition of Black History Month, what can we as a chronic illness community do to support our fellow Black IBD patients this month? Standing in solidarity with this marginalized community, helping amplify their voices, and acknowledging their experiences are ways to starting bridging those gaps. 

It is important to support BIPOC patients by recognizing the additional barriers that minorities, especially those in the Black community, face when navigating medical care and public health. Historically, Black people have been marginalized, abused, experimented on, and underrepresented in medical trials and research. Being seen as easily disposable, Black people have had to endure the systemic injustices of medical discrimination and medical racism. Crohn’s and ulcerative colitis are chronic diseases that statistically occur less frequently in African-Amercian populations. Statistics also show that Black people are more likely to not have their symptoms believed or validated, which has ushered a crisis of misdiagnoses. It is clear that implicit bias and antiquated medical beliefs are factors in the hesitation that Black people experience in the medical field. This phenomenon has led to an inherent distrust of medical institutions and treatment in the black community. As IBD patients we understand that having the right diagnosis and starting treatment is vital for healing and longevity. This concern is magnified in the Black community due to the systemic injustices previously mentioned.

 When I first started to become ill in 2019, I did have some internal generational trauma that made me hesitant when seeking medical care. After months and months of pain I finally decided to go to the hospital to get some answers. When speaking to the doctor about symptoms, I vividly remember feeling an overwhelming sense of unease rattle through my bones. What happens if my experiences and symptoms aren't taken seriously? How can I truly convey the severity of how I feel? Although I did not receive a proper diagnosis from the hospital, I was lucky enough to have the staff members at the hospital believe and validate me. I was privileged that this was not an overtly terrible experience, but it does not take away from any reservations I had, as well as the reservations that countless other Black people have. 

We must acknowledge and hold space for Black people within the IBD community through advocacy. Having a diverse range of anecdotes and stories will only propel this community to further embrace the lived experiences of so many Black and brown people who are voiceless. Education and conscious activism will only lead to more positive intersectional change. 

In recognition and celebration of Black History Month, here are a few black pioneers in the IBD community as well as Gastroenterology:

Sadye Beatryce Curry was the first female African-American gastroenterologist in the United States. On top of her endless list of accomplishments, she was a founding member of the Leonidas Berry Society for Digestive Disease as well as the first woman to be elected chair for the Internal Medicine Section of the National Medical Association.

Leonidas Berry was the first African-American gastroenterologist in the United States as well as a pioneer for the advancement of endoscopy procedures. Dr. Berry also invented the gastroscopy scope. Leonidas Berry has a passion for bridging the gap of racial problems in public health. 

Gary Richter is a gastroenterologist and currently runs Consultative Gastroenterology in Atlanta, and has become the first African-American president of the Medical Association of Atlanta. 

Melodie Narain-Blackwell is the founder of Color of Crohn’s and Chronic Illness (COCCI) which is a nonprofit focused on increasing quality of life for minorities who battle IBD and related chronic illnesses.

Pandemic, Lockdown, Isolation and Chronic Illness

It has been almost a year now and we are still in the middle of a pandemic waiting for our lives to return to normal. However, reality may never be the same again. 

So much has changed, but it seems like nothing and it makes it difficult to feel the comfort of real security.

My return - and the return of many other patients with chronic conditions- to normality may be further away than most of you. But I know that all this is equally difficult for all of us. 

They say that only the elderly and people with underlying diseases are at risk. The vulnerable population. 

But what happens when you are the vulnerable? 

I belong to those who they call vulnerable. I never hid my illness nor was I afraid of the stigma. 

I look young and healthy, but I’m not! 

I’m immunosuppressed, which makes me vulnerable to any kind of infection. 

We have been in lockdown for months. This is certainly not easy, nor is isolation.

I understand that it is difficult to change your daily life, but do you know how many times we, the vulnerable, have changed our daily lives not because we wanted to, but because our health imposed it?

How many times have we canceled a plan at the last minute, favorite foods we stopped eating, parties we missed and much more?

For those of us who are vulnerable, it is not so foreign to stay home, since we have spent long stays in our home and before COVID-19. 

I am in quarantine for a long time. It is not easy, it dissolves your mood, your body. Staying home is unbearable for everyone. 

Isolation, despair. 

And it is now that we are all looking for ways to balance our security with our contact with the world. 

All of this is not so foreign to me. I have some chronic illnesses that require me every day to choose what to do and what not to do. Even before the pandemic, I was very careful, evaluating what was safe to do and what was not. 

I do not understand big differences in my own life now with quarantine; that I am not allowed to be touched, that I can not go to the hospital and maybe two or three more things.

And recently I made a finding that has a lot in common with today's reality. 

I realized that my illnesses will never leave me, while a cure seems like a distant dream for now. 

Yes, I can take steps to improve every day, but what I thought as “normal” in previous years may never come again. For many years I waited for the cure to continue my life. Now that I accepted that I would carry my diseases with me, I gained freedom. My goal now is not to be cured, but to live better. 

So as I realized that it is not realistic to wait for the cure to live, so is the pause we have entered because of COVID-19 until our life is “normal” again. 

And this is the real challenge: how to move on and stop waiting to get back to normal.

Stay safe! 

Challenges as a Crohn's Warrior in Malaysia

In Malaysia, Crohn’s disease is also known as “Western Disease” or “Rich People Disease.” The reason behind this is mainly because Crohn’s is a rare disease in Asia,  particularly in Malaysia, as compared to Western countries. Many in Malaysia have never heard of this disease. Therefore, they are not aware of the Crohn’s and colitis patients’ struggles with their pain, medical procedures and psychological issues. 

At the beginning stage, I had no one to guide me. I had no idea on how to handle my newly diagnosed disease. With no medical background, no one in the family or friends with similar conditions, I struggled to cope with this disease and my normal life. Can you imagine the struggles I faced as a first year university student with my condition? I was  alone and I didn’t even understand what was going on and my normal was no longer a  normal. The internet was my only resource for information other than my doctor. By reading  everything I could find in the internet, I slowly started to understand this disease. Back then,  there wasn’t even a support group for Crohn’s in Malaysia as the disease is relatively unknown to Malaysians. In fact, I didn’t even known about any other Crohn’s patients until I  met one almost a year later after my diagnosis. My gastro doctors encouraged me and other patients to start a group so we could create a support system to each other. Now,  newly diagnosed Crohn’s patients or caregivers in Malaysia have access to few channels  that they could use to discuss, ask, guide and support each other going through this painful disease. 

Living with chronic disease, I had to adjust and adopt to new diet and lifestyle.  Changes in diet were mostly trial and error in the beginning. I had to monitor my  consumption and take note of any changes. Why did I have to monitor those changes? It is simply because I wanted to avoid flare ups that were caused by certain food that I consume.  For me, I found that my Crohn’s is mostly under control when I avoid foods that contain eggs. So I have to ensure my daily food consumption is egg free. If I didn’t, I’d have to visit toilet frequently the whole day. Precaution is needed for Crohn’s patients because flare ups can happen in any situations, therefore any heads up is a good one to have. 

Apart from my diet, I had made some massive changes to my daily activities too. Since I’m an Ostomate, I have to ensure that I don’t partake often in hardcore sports in order to avoid stoma prolapse. 

The understanding and acceptance of IBD in society is still a challenge for me. Most of them, as  I mentioned above, do not know about Crohn’s disease. I remember one of my friends asking me “Sara, is your disease infectious?”. At that time, I just laughed and say “No, it  doesn’t”. The lack of awareness, although understandable, is a huge disappointment when  someone I confided in is not taking any initiative to understand it.

Stress is another thing that I started to consciously manage. What is the connection  between Crohn’s and stress? Well, stress generally affects a person emotionally and mentally as it damages a person’s emotional equilibrium. But it also affects the person’s health. Even a person without chronic disease can feel their health being affected by high stress levels. So, anyone with chronic health issues, such as IBD patients, have higher  chances of having a relapse and flare when they are stressed. It is imperative that I  recognize my stress inducers, my stress level, my tolerance level and ways to reduce stress  so that I do not have chronic flare ups. Although it is impossible to live stress free all the time, I  believe that I should try to manage stressful situations to the best of my abilities.

Navigating relationship with Crohn’s is complicated and challenging. Crohn’s has created ups and downs in my relationships with my family, friends and loved ones. In the beginning it was really hard to explain to them my condition. They did not understand the condition or why and how I got this disease in the first place at all. It took a while for my  family to accept my condition and now they are slowly getting used to it. They are a great  support for me at the moment, and my heartfelt thanks. 

Dealing with Crohn’s is tough enough and unfortunately, Crohn’s is not something  that we can ignore or that it will disappear one day. Every single day is a challenge for me because I go through physical and psychological pain. I have to survive, improve my quality of life and live my life as normal as possible; I hope more people will become aware of  Crohn’s disease, of patients’ struggles, and accept their conditions. Be kind even if you don’t see someone’s struggle, their pain or their decreasing health.

Reflections: The Importance of Advocacy for IBD

It’s a little strange to title this article ‘Reflections,’ because IBD is unique in that it’s always ongoing, with nothing to really jump over and look back on to reflect; with the journey still very much running, our reflections are inbuilt into it.

 As I write this, I’ve been in remission from ulcerative colitis for more than a year. From the time I was accepted to be a CCYAN fellow to now, I have already been through a rollercoaster of new emotions: from immense gratitude and relief that I am finally a fellow of a network that I closely followed for several months to staggering self-doubt about whether I can truly do this opportunity justice. While poles apart, my feelings of gratitude and self-doubt and the largeness of the two do stem from the same root. After I was diagnosed with UC at the age of 19, I desperately needed to know more people who faced the same struggles. With little else to focus on in those starting years, hope would glimmer every time I found out about a famous personality or someone I knew who opened up about their chronic illnesses.

 The way an invisible chronic illness creeps up on young adults is very much like a thief breaking in your house when you’re asleep and stealing things that don’t seem so valuable at first sight but without which you can’t really survive (like all your dishes). As young adults, we are so entitled toward our bodies and organs functioning properly that there’s no way to prepare or even know you will be impacted and when you do, people have very strong opinions on what you could have done to avoid it. And if, like some organs, dishes weren’t replaceable and the upkeep of the damages was constant, the last thing anyone would want is to deal with the struggle alone and keep it private. At least that’s how I felt. As soon as I was diagnosed, I let everyone around me know mostly everything except for the “impolite” specifics. Sometimes if the gravity of my situation wasn’t acknowledged, I would push to reveal the impolite specifics too. Concurrent to my health challenges, I was still also learning aspects of a broad society I had entered just two years before I got UC. As I rushed to speak and be heard, I realized, through the fear of my family and the discomfort of peers and friends, just how closed this society is towards these things.

When there are no voices for something that drastically alters every aspect of your life, it feels as though you’ve been dropped off to a completely new city with no maps for guidance. Maps are important for not only getting you from point A to point B, but also giving you a sense of orientation to gauge where you are with respect to everything around you. No voices = no maps. By far, in India today, invisible illnesses not only lack visibility in patients' external bodies, but also in national and private datasets, policies, and advocacy. This leaves patients disorientated and vulnerable to quackery (health fraud), which results in the loss of crucial time, finances, and deterioration of mental health (with the ups and downs of new hope and disappointment).

If the silence around personal disturbances was anything to go by, then I did not do a very good job of fitting in to my society as I always took the opportunity to talk about what I was going through even when I realized with passing time that it wasn’t always welcome or understood completely. I thought I should speak up all the more, because if no one does, who will vouch for me? This casual monologue took greater form in my first experience of being at a public hospital in my city. By that time, I had scoured the internet for people like me, experiences like mine, unique symptoms like mine, etc. I had come to recognize some feelings that came as a by-product of my illness through Hank Green’s videos on YouTube, and that the illness was bigger than me and my doctors (who only focused on the strict textbook aspects of IBD). My mom and brother very supportively drove and accompanied me for my sigmoidoscopy and I even got to sit as I waited for my turn. Waiting for countless hours after the scheduled time of my appointment, I was busy drowning in my pond of self-pity. When I heard a young lady slightly older than me was invited to go before me, I was very irritated and urged my mom to leave and reschedule. My experienced mother knew better. As I waited, I could hear the conversation between the young patient and the doctors in the room next door. She was a daily wage worker and her grumbles about missing work, her stomach pain (due to which she tilted sideways when she walked) and the tedious hours she spent waiting for her turn followed her into the room. The doctors didn’t indulge her in any sympathy, but rather curtly started the process. I wondered out loud why they hadn’t offered her a sedative – whenever I was asked, I always thought what a preposterous thing to ask when the process was so intrusive and uncomfortable. It was because she was alone and needed to hear the doctor’s findings and, of course, had to head back home alone. Even in my miserable state, that struck something in me. Her yells and shouts during the process, and the surrounding patients’ aloofness painted a picture so bleak, I was forced to look beyond my situation and recognize that despair like mine was still placed high on privilege. Granted that sigmoidoscopies are not the most pleasant of processes to go through or even prepare for, her shouts seemed out of place. I gathered it was more of a release from the anxiety of being alone and in such a vulnerable position with no emotional support. It took me back to a brief, mostly one-sided exchange she and I had before she was called in. From the little I understood as she spoke rapidly in her dialect, she had absolutely no understanding of the formalities of the prep that had to be taken and, more worryingly, the seriousness of her illness. She had two kids she had to care for, and she came alone because her husband was a daily wage worker who could not miss work especially since she was missing work that day too. She complained to me about the high prices of prep, all the days she had missed getting tests done and scheduling and rescheduling appointments in a government hospital, her appetite loss due to nausea and how she couldn’t perform her labor-intensive work as efficiently. After she limped out of her session, I thought of the sheer population of people like her in India.

Ever since that episode, I started thinking beyond my illness and what I could do to help the numberless amount of people in the same boat as the young woman. To start helping, the first step is to get a clear picture of how many people are impacted by IBD, which is frustratingly not available nor acknowledged anywhere in India. I am grateful, therefore, that I found CCYAN as an international platform for advocacy. Advocacy would hopefully enable data collection somewhere down the line. However, sometimes the mountain looks too big to climb; at this moment, we are right at the bottom and there are many things to do. Sometimes I think of all the people suffering from IBD in India, and how many struggles go undiscovered due to health illiteracy, digital gaps, doctor unavailability, and expensive medication, etc. Now more than ever, as cases of autoimmune disease rise across the world, there needs to be a prominent force of advocacy for IBD in India, so that datasets can be recorded and informed policies can be formed. The innumerable people who struggle already for a living should not be further hindered in their struggle for support, information or resources in this regard.

How Toxic Productivity Can Affect Chronic Illness

“The grind never stops” is a quote I’m sure all older gen-z and younger millennials have heard. Hustle culture is like the monster hiding under our beds just waiting to attack us the moment we dangle our foot off the bed. It’s the scary email we try to avoid, but eventually have to acknowledge is there. Our society places a great amount of pressure, on our generation specifically, to work hard and constantly strive for a lifestyle in which we are operating at an “optimal level”. This is deemed as success and this version of success should always be at the forefront of our minds and influence all decision making. Participating in this hyper productive hustle culture is difficult enough for the average person to achieve, but what does it look like for people that live with chronic illness? 

To put it simply, living with chronic illness(es) is hard. Personally, it is the most difficult thing I have ever experienced. With symptoms like chronic fatigue, anemia, and anxiety etc., paired with frequent doctor's appointments and stigma, one could imagine that it is virtually impossible for chronically ill people to participate in hustle culture. Unfortunately, being in this generation makes escaping from the plague of toxic productivity quite difficult. Growing up we have all heard the stories of the business person working 60+ hours a week to bring his dreams to fruition. This mentality has influenced our entire generation. Working hard should always produce tangible results, right? Well, not exactly. As someone that lives with IBD, overworking myself can have dire consequences. Stress and anxiety are common triggers for people living with IBD, so it can be exhausting to focus on extracurriculars, staying social, maintaining good grades, and overall performing “optimally” while you’re inches away from a flare up. Our culture’s ingrained toxic productivity can be seen as the genesis of this behavior. I regularly catch myself being filled with disappointment that my illness prevents me from working at the capacity that I deem as optimal. Blaming myself for the pressures that our society puts on this generation only adds fuel to the fire, but never addresses the true issue, which is our ingrained idea of hustle culture. 

As young chronically ill people, we must stay aware about never pushing our boundaries and our illnesses in the name of productivity. Productivity is a wolf in sheep’s clothing; it seems innocent enough until it comes and bites us, and that bite for many of us is a flare. It is never a moral failing if you aren't able to operate at the same capacity as your pre-diagnosed self or other able bodied individuals. As chronically ill people, we have so many unique challenges that we must acknowledge and honor. Here is a metaphor that I often remind myself of: 

“We are all running a race, and some people are completing laps in 7 minutes, and others are completing laps in 20 minutes. Some may have to stop to breathe, sit and take a brief rest, or even leave to grab water, but the timing doesn't matter, the effort and intention does. All effort is valid.”

In the metaphor above, the race represents toxic productivity and the one’s completing the laps in 20 minutes who have to frequently stop represents chronically ill people. Giving into the pressures of hustle culture and toxic productivity will only reinforce the cycle. So, for the college student that lives with IBD or other chronic illnesses, such as myself, who is putting excess amounts of pressure on themselves to excel in every facet of life, try to be conscious of allowing yourself the space to rest and recharge. “Rise and grind'' is hard to do when the rising part is the issue. Glamorizing and internalizing the generational curse that is hustle culture and toxic productivity can cause irreparable harm to ourselves. Remember, work does not equal self worth. 

So, when you’re in bed trying to get rest and all of your responsibilities and the ghosts of toxic productivity are whispering in your ear, try your hardest to ignore those voices, turn the other direction, and get that well deserved rest. 

A Capital Mistake

Disclaimer: These are my views and observations, based on my experience with online Inflammatory Bowel Disease support groups in India.

 “It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.” 

~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes

When I began my fellowship at CCYAN, I was a stranger to patient advocacy. I had a very vague idea of what the word meant. A couple of months later, I began a local initiative to explore the possibility of building a patient advocacy group for the Indian IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) population. I started by imitating and trying to replicate the actions of existing advocacy groups in the US and the UK. However, it didn’t work. I soon realized that there is a larger fundamental problem that has to be addressed before I speak up for anything. It is the problem of patient education and health information. 

Patients in India are far less aware and informed about their condition than patients in the developed nations. A higher rate of illiteracy, language barriers, lack of counselors, and short consultation times are major reasons. While it may seem that this problem can be rectified easily by disseminating educational materials among patients in various ways, the reality is that the void created by a lack of information is not a void at all. My observation is that the void has been occupied by incorrect and unsubstantiated information that prejudice a patient’s mind when it comes to learning and accepting correct, evidence-based information about their condition. This “defect” in the knowledge that a patient has about their condition can lead to deterioration of their condition and, in some cases, prove to be fatal. 

The lack of patient education itself is a mechanism through which misinformation spreads. Existing patients with defective knowledge pass it on to the newly diagnosed. In the absence of rectifying sources/agents, such information can propagate and spread among groups of patients - very much like a virus. One of the places where things go “viral” is social media. The networks that connect us all are one of the pathways through which information that has no factual basis propagates.

In India, we have a small, but a fair number of Facebook and WhatsApp groups of patients suffering from Inflammatory Bowel Disease. Members of these groups exchange information daily on various topics - meds, diets, exercise, doctors, etc. I observed that there is a small subset of people, not always, but usually the creators of these groups that influence these discussions. This subset of people also acts as a source of “information” and “knowledge” for the other members.

In my experience, the majority of the discussions revolve around food and alternative treatments. Sporadically, there might be a discussion on the unaffordability of biologics, the struggle of young adults with the condition to get a job, study, or get into a relationship. However, these discussions are limited to a few comments, and that’s it. Several topics are not discussed out of shame. Erectile dysfunction because of IBD/surgery, anal dilation, rectovaginal fistulas, marital problems, reproductive issues - these are just some of the few issues that people seldom discuss in these forums. A support group is supposed to be a safe space, but these groups don’t feel like one to me. Nobody feels safe about opening up on problems that affect them very much because of fear of judgment and shame. The “advocates” too, rarely take any initiative to remove the stigma and taboo. We, the patients of India, with our ignorance, play a major role in keeping the taboo and stigma associated with IBD intact. The creators and moderators of such groups rarely take care to protect the newly diagnosed from misinformation. Many even float their own theories and post uncorroborated information. 

A year ago, the mother of a 31-year old patient called me. She was crying. She asked me to visit her son and counsel him. I received her call a couple of weeks after I had moved to Bangalore for my graduate studies. I was unsure, but I went to her home and visited her son. He was lying down on the bed, with a heavily bloated stomach and a hot pack on his abdomen. I started talking to him. He told me that he had been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease 7 years ago. Initially, he was prescribed Pentasa, which he took for two weeks only. He did not feel that he was responding to the drugs, and hence, he stopped taking the medication without consulting his doctor. He never visited his doctor again.

On the advice of “advocates” and “experts” on the internet, he began buying and consuming naturopathy products, special brands of water with a certain pH, and many other products that he claimed were alternative medicine. He was importing many of these items. When he ran out of money, he borrowed money from people on the pretence of treatment and bought the products. He hadn’t seen a GI in 6 years! He showed me the results of a 3-year-old imaging test. It mentioned internal fistulas. He could not even stand up. His old mother was caring for him. Sometimes, when he would be in a lot of pain, his relatives would take him to the emergency room where he would be advised immediate surgery. He had been refusing the option of surgery every time. I spent an hour trying to talk him into surgery and explaining that an ostomy is not the end of the world. He wouldn’t budge. I returned - disappointed and angry. A few days later, I received a message from him. It said that he did get a temporary ostomy, but he’ll be going back to naturopathy to save his colon. I wished him all the best and urged him to act responsibly. I never heard from him again.

This person was ready to die instead of accepting treatment from a doctor in a structured and safe manner. He spent his time lurking on the internet in such “support groups,” where he learned various expensive and ineffective remedies for his condition and went on to irrationally and blindly pursue them. He could have avoided the surgery, had these very “advocates” told him to get back to his doctor. 

Let me clarify here that I’m not speaking against the use of alternative therapies, some of which in recent times have been supported by some studies as a good supplementary treatment option. I object to disseminating unsubstantiated information in a manner that evades judgment, analysis, and scrutiny. Science, rational thinking, reason, is how humanity has come so far. It’s the gift we have—our capacity for reason and imagination. 

Modern medicine does not fully understand inflammatory bowel disease and many other conditions. This, in turn, has become an opportunity for some people to form and present their theories which are either completely unscientific or based on some science, but completely opaque to scrutiny. These baseless theories and cures are dangerous. Desperate patients often end up losing a significant amount of money, time, and health. Such theories and their preachers often evade accountability. 

We can only fight something well if we know what we’re fighting against well. I feel that most IBD patients in India are fighting blindly. The larger population of IBD patients in India faces a wide variety of problems compared to the handful of patients who have the luxury to engage in comfortable discussions in closed spaces on social media. Those problems are rarely discussed and confronted. 

Inflammatory Bowel Disease is a complex disease. Good communication is the first step towards helping patients navigate the physical and emotional roller coaster that comes with having an illness like IBD. We must develop a culture of sharing medically verified and factual information amongst ourselves. It’ll help create a community where everyone is aware and informed. The newly diagnosed, who are often confused, shall receive appropriate guidance and support. Only then can we begin to speak up as a collective voice for matters that can help improve the quality of life of Indian patients with Inflammatory Bowel Disease. 

That’s all from my side this month. Stay safe :)