Ulcerative Colitis

Living with Ulcerative Colitis

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Today, May 19, is World IBD Day. For the first 20 years of my life, I lived blissfully unaware of the inflammatory bowel disease (IBD), ulcerative colitis (UC). Sure, I’d heard of stomach upset, suffered through childhood digestive woes and stomach viruses, but I didn’t know there was anything more than the ever-fleeting “nervous stomach” term I’d been assigned as a kid. Those first days of school tummy jitters, the clamminess before big tests or speaking in front of the class, the waves of nausea after making an ass of myself in front of my crush, etc.

I took an acid-reducing medicine while in 11th grade and the occasional half-tablet of Imodium-AD to settle my digestive system, but it wasn’t until college that I started having severe problems.

The changes were subtle at first, so subtle that I only recognize them now as I reflect on that time in my life. Continue reading

My love history and why I never wrote about my husband until now

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Let me warn you: This post is long.

Something my husband and I talked about before he helped me launch this website was the fact that I wrote a lot of material about someone I loved before I met him. I was worried that what I wrote a long time ago would hurt my husband, something I would never do intentionally. Now my husband, Jonathan, is very blunt, as anyone who knows him will tell you. He told me specifically that he is not threatened by my past because it made me who I am—the woman he loves. We talked about my past and his while we were getting to know each other.

So, how did we meet? Jonathan was working as a night building manager at Arkansas Tech in the Student Services Center. I was a student working on a practicum during the summer. Just to clear up any ethical issues: I was a graduate student, 22 years old, almost 23, and Jonathan was 25. He was not my supervisor. I’ll admit, I thought he was cute when I first saw him, but given my track record and a recent broken relationship that ended a friendship, (another story—see below) I figured Jonathan was taken. Well, he wasn’t.

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