As I’m writing this blog, I’m waiting for my annual follow-up appointment with my gastroenterologist at the CHUS. I haven’t seen this doctor for three years. Three years without any success in getting an annual follow-up. Three years contacting the central appointment to say that I have new symptoms. Three years trying to understand the messages my body is sending to me.

In the last three years, I’ve pushed the limits of my body. I got my bachelor’s degree in nursing by studying and working seven days a week for months. I worked evenings and nights, accumulating the mandatory over time. I got a job in the intensive care unit. In short, I’m tired and this fatigue doesn’t stop accumulating.

I took for granted that I was invincible again, that the disease couldn’t affect me again. I thought that my ostomy would allow me to be in complete remission for the rest of my life, but no... I'm tired and I have a stomachache again.

Though, it's not the stomachache that I was used to before; it's a different one. A stomachache that directly impacts on my stomach and bends me in two, which gives me nausea and increases my fear of relapsing.

In Quebec, having access to a doctor is extremely difficult. My “annual” appointment has been extended to over three years. Three years wondering if I was relapsing. Fear and pain ended up hitting me in the guts. I finally had a gastroscopy and several exhaustive blood tests.

What’s the verdict? Everything is absolutely normal, except two tiny red dots in my stomach. And what’s the diagnosis? A little gastritis. In my opinion, that diagnosis has been made not to trivialize my pain and to try to explain my last years’ symptoms.

Following my "annual" appointment, my doctor had two hypotheses. My hope of finally having answers to my questions quickly faded. The first hypothesis is that I suffer from a psychosomatic disorder. As a nurse, I know very well that it kind of means that the problem is in my head. My doctor wants me to have a better lifestyle and to learn how to better manage my stress. The second hypothesis is functional dyspepsia. This disorder is explained by a stomach mobility dysfunction. The symptoms (which are identical to mine in my opinion) come and go sporadically and unpredictably and it’s impossible to diagnose the disorder with conventional medical examinations as all the results are normal. In any case, my gastroenterologist doesn’t want to treat me for functional dyspepsia yet, because my episodes are still too far apart and the medication brings too many side effects.

So, the only option for me is to listen to my body, to respect my limits, to manage my stress and to find a nice balance to my life. This lesson taught me that it’s my duty to take care of my body until my last days and that I’m not invincible. I am and I will stay as vulnerable as when I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease.

This constant fear of relapsing is the reason why I’ll prioritize my health first and foremost. That fear reminds me of how fragile life is, but so beautiful when you take care of it.

Laurie-Anne

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