Acknowledging I'm a Sick Person...and Promptly Ignoring It

It started happening in 2017: the realization that I am a sick person. I know, I know...after all these surgeries and procedures and medications I took for the nearly 20 years prior, it still didn't start sinking in until I had a bowel obstruction in February of 2017. It was the first time I had an NG tube inserted while I was awake (brutal), and it reminded me that I was not in control. That is a lesson that's been very hard to learn. But even with that realization I refused (and still refuse) to live life like a sick person. 

Smiling through an NG, February 2017

That summer it was discovered that I had almost zero Ferratin (stored iron), so I added a hematologist and iron infusions into my health care repertoire. I also switched medications from Humira, which was not working, to Stelara. Stelara is a bi-monthly injection that I am still taking to this day and (knock on wood) has been relatively successful at keeping my disease in check.

In August my surgeon declared my abscess finally healed after 8 months, so he removed the seton he'd surgically implanted the previous fall. I started running again, and I was hopeful that life was returning to normal. My friend was running for Mayor and asked me to be his Chief of Staff. I was excited about a new career move, running miles and new medication doing its work.

As we progressed into fall my knee was feeling achy leading me to visit my sports medicine doctor. I was diagnosed with a torn meniscus that we tried to rehab with physical therapy. It would be too easy to suggest PT would work for me, so I had surgery to repair the tear on November 1, 2017. A week later my friend won his mayoral election, and I set about running a mayoral transition for the next six weeks. 

Voting in the Mayoral election one week post-knee surgery, November 2017

On January 1, 2018 my friend was sworn in as Mayor. I was the Mayor's Chief of Staff. My son was three years and two weeks old. I was eight weeks post-knee surgery and four months into a new Crohn's medication. I hit the ground running and didn't stop for more than two years. 

Holding my sleeping 3-year-old at the Mayoral inauguration, Jan. 1, 2018

I was not prepared for my job to take over my life the way it did. The hours were incessant. Calls, texts, meetings way beyond 8 am to 5 pm. Weekends, evenings, nothing was out of bounds. I struggled to be a present parent and a present spouse. Taking care of myself with exercise and writing was nearly out of the question. I tried to start running again, but it was sporadic at best. 

A few months into the job I developed a terrible cough that plagued me for 12 weeks. I could not kick it. In retrospect I think it was my body reacting to the incredible stress, but at the time I powered through it. 

I turned 40 on August 29, 2018. I had a great day celebrating with friends and family plus a large work announcement. But I felt like I was drowning personally and professionally. I didn't want anyone to know that I felt like I was failing at everything. I was utterly exhausted. I wasn't having increased Crohn's symptoms, but I was simply exhausted. It was tough to hide. 

We took an epic trip to Napa with 12 friends for my 40th birthday. Even on this amazing trip I was working. I remember the Mayor texting and asking if I could take a call with the City Attorney. I responded, "I guess but I've been drinking all day so that seems like a bad idea." One morning I was up early Pacific time on a call with the Mayor while I paced around the pool of our AirBNB. I told my husband afterward that I wanted to throw my phone in the pool. There was no break. Ever.

Napa 2018

At the end of my first year in the job I acknowledged that I lost myself in work. I vowed to do better. I joined a gym. I started running again. But the volume of work didn't change. I started having migraines. My family doctor's official medical recommendation was that I quit my stressful job. I asked for an injection of Toradol for my headache and went back to the office. 

In 2019 I told myself I was doing better. I SAID I was trying to take care of myself, but I wasn't changing my stress level. When I think back to those first two years as the Mayor's Chief of Staff they are mostly a blur. I think of a calendar that was blocked back to back with meetings every day, a phone that never stopped buzzing and sitting in the conference room for hours on end. 

My Crohn's symptoms began to increase in the late summer: dehydration, more diarrhea, excessive fatigue. I ignored them because I felt like I didn't have another option. It all came to a head at the end of September when I ended up hospitalized with another bowel obstruction. 

Another small bowel obstruction, September 2019

That was the first obstruction that really scared me. I felt very out of control. So I poured myself into what I could control: work, family life, creating order around me. I was off work for less than a week post-hospitalization before diving back into it. 

I had a friend diagnosed with terminal cancer shortly after my obstruction, and perspective punched me in the face. I had a lot for which I should be thankful. Sure I have health challenges, but it could be worse. I have a wonderful family. I'm employed. I focused on gratitude even while I didn't slow down the pace. 

At the end of 2019 I wrote a blog summarizing the year, and I wrote: "If anything I only became further entrenched in work and busy, and in 2020 that has to stop."

I had no idea what 2020 had in store for my health or for the health of humanity.