When the Body Decides to Stop Following the Rules
Every day over breakfast, I fill three pillboxes. Fifteen pills in the morning, 3 at lunch and 8 before bed, for a total of 26. To my surprise, I find pleasure in the sorting, as it is one of the few moments when I can pretend I have some control over the bizarre war raging in my colon.
When I learned 11 months ago at age 29 that I had a chronic illness, I understood that my life was going to change. I knew I would stop eating certain foods, limit stress and think more strategically about when to have children. What I didn't anticipate was the loss of control over my life that I thought I had, until the gastroenterologist uttered the words "ulcerative colitis."