Post #13: Playing the waiting game

If you want a clean colon, you could buy this hot sauce. Or, you know, get Crohn's.

Day whatever of the taper. Day whatever of "cutting out white stuff."

I realized today just how much of my life I spend waiting. First, I waited years to get this diagnosis, all the while worrying that something more serious than IBS was going on (and I was right! whoo hoo!). When I was nauseous all of the time, I would wait for it to pass so I could go to class or go out with friends. Sometimes it would, and sometimes it wouldn't. I wait to have bowel movements, I wait to pass gas. I wait to see how different medicines (so many medicines over the years-I have a prescription pill graveyard in my bathroom) react with my body, I wait for bad side effects to wear off, I wait for test results, I wait for doctor's appointments. I wait in waiting rooms, I wait to get my blood drawn, I wait in line at the pharmacy. When my feet cramp up from dehydration, I wiggle them and wait for my toes to straighten out. I wait for my bowel to empty before I go about my day. When it feels like my bowels are twisting themselves in knots, I wait for the pain to pass.

I wait until the last minute to cancel plans, because I hope I will feel better. I wait for my friends to call me, because I don't really want to call them. I always seem to have the same news to share. When I go out to a restaurant, I nervously wait for the waitress to take my order, because I know that I'm going to be "that girl" who asks for everything plain and on the side. I wait for things to get worse, or get better. I wait for the day when I don't have to think so much about food. I wait for the day when I don't need medication, although I'm not sure that day will ever come. I wait for a time when it doesn't matter if I'm near a bathroom.

When I tell people I have Crohn's, I wait for their reaction. Later, I wait for my reaction. I wait for my emotions to boil over or harden into cool, familiar anger.

Someone today asked me if I was bored, being home all day, and I said yes, but I think I'm really sick of waiting all of the fucking time. I used to feel, when I first started feeling sick, that I was "waiting for the other shoe to drop." I was waiting to hear the bad news. I've heard it now, and it doesn't bring relief, this knowing. I feel like there are now a thousand other shoes waiting to drop.

All of this, the tapering, the diet, the supplements (which I am still waiting to take-my specialty....) is a ploy to buy me some time to make my next treatment decision. I know that. I decided that I would let my symptoms dictate the next course of action, thereby taking the decision away from me. And now, everyday, I have to ask myself, was this day bad enough? Is it time?

I'm still waiting for an answer.