By: Carina Diaz
My experience with getting a diagnosis and how it still affects me today.
This summer will be my ten year anniversary of having Crohn’s Disease, and throughout the years, I’ve been told the same phrase over and over again by many doctors: “You’re a difficult patient.”
Hearing this since the age of 18 has been hard on my mental health. I’ve internalized those words and blamed myself for the state of my body. I thought that my symptoms being out of control was because I ate something that I should’ve have (I can’t resist pasta or cheese), I was thinking too negatively, or maybe it was just karma for something I did wrong. But none of that is true.
This is for anyone who has also been told that they’re a hard case, a real head scratcher if you will, as my ostomy nurse tells me. I’m going to tell you the words I wish someone would’ve told me: It’s not your fault. You did nothing to deserve this. You aren’t being punished (although it can definitely feels that way at times).
I used to always look for a reason for why I was going through this. Maybe by having an explanation, I would feel better about my situation. I wanted something to blame. I wanted to be able to direct my anger towards something more tangible. I was craving to have some level of peace or stability. Getting diagnosed felt like my world was ending.
I was having abnormal symptoms for just a few months. I had to go to the bathroom frequently and having a bowel movement was very painful. I would try to avoid food as much as possible, because food meant having to poop and pooping meant pain. When my mom confronted me about skipping dinner and learned about what I was going through, she took me to my primary care doctor, which led to getting a referral for a gastroenterologist. I thought I would be told what was wrong with me, given medicine to treat it, and that everything would fine once again. That had always been my experience with doctors. I had always gotten answers and something to help. I didn’t know that there were things that doctors couldn’t fix or at the very least, have answers for. Getting a diagnosis meant I could no longer ignore how my body was feeling.
I didn’t know what was realistic for me to want out of life anymore. Would I be able to travel, have kids, or even live on my own? My doctor didn’t seem to take my age into account when he told me the results of my colonoscopy and endoscopy. I was finishing high school and getting ready to begin college. I was overwhelmed with the possibility of not being able to keep up with my peers, of not being normal.
Hearing this since the age of 18 has been hard on my mental health. I’ve internalized those words and blamed myself for the state of my body.
The language that doctors use, whether or not it’s intentional, often puts the blame on the patient. “I don’t know what to do with you.” “You’ve failed this medication.” “I’m referring you to someone else. I can’t help you.” This has been so harmful to my mental health. It made me think I had done this to myself. At the end of every day, my mind would race through all the possible factors: I wasn’t managing my stress levels, I ate something that I shouldn’t have, I didn’t check the ingredients in what I ate thoroughly enough, I wasn’t taking the right supplements, or I needed to try another diet. For years, I picked apart my thoughts and actions. I dealt with a lot of toxic positivity from family. As well meaning as it may have been, it just fed into blaming myself.
If you can relate to my experience or have been through it yourself, I hope you’ve been able to find comfort and support in community. It’s what organizations like CCYAN are here for. You’re not alone, you’re not to blame, and there are people out there who understand what you’re going through. I hope that knowing you aren’t alone brings you a bit of comfort.