Crohn's Disease, Melanoma and Yeast Infections: Oh My!

It was June of 2001, and I had been married for exactly a month when my ex embarked on the first separation of our marriage, heading to Fort Knox, Kentucky for the summer. I quit my job at the mall and worked in the Dean's office at the law school for the summer. I loved the job and enjoyed seeing everyone who came into the office. I also got to do fun things like go on a field trip with the dean and a small team to buy new artwork by West Virginia artists for the student lounge. 

The trouble started in July, three months after my ileostomy was reversed. I started to have abdominal pain and bleeding again, symptoms that had subsided during the time I had an ostomy. I was immediately freaked out because in my head having my colon removed meant I was gong to be free of those symptoms from that point on. I was not physically or mentally prepared for anything else. 

I headed to Pittsburgh for a check-up with Dr. Schraut. A nurse took me into a procedure room, handed me a few enemas and he proceeded to do a flex sig that day. It showed significant inflammation of the rectum, inflammation that had largely cleared up with the ostomy. I felt like I'd been punched in the face.

Dr. Schraut referred me to a GI colleague, and I had a follow up appointment with this doctor who reviewed the pathology from my colectomy. He diagnosed me with Crohn's Disease based on the pathology and recurrence of my rectal inflammation. This was my third official diagnosis.

I don't recall what medicine he prescribed or what I was taking. I know I've taken pretty much everything available in the last 20 years, and I was taking a lot of pills again. It was so frustrating to be back on this path.

I continued working and preparing for my second year of law school. Meanwhile my ex left Kentucky and headed to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri for Officer Basic Course (OBC). I felt disbelief that my disease was continuing to progress, and for the first time I also felt very, very alone. 

In August I drove out to Missouri. My ex was staying in a hotel temporarily until his lodging (which would basically be an efficiency apartment) was ready. I spent my days reading in the hotel room and trying to figure out what on earth I was doing out there just hanging out in a hotel room alone. Not only was I very sick, but the medication gave me a yeast infection. I was so embarrassed.

I didn't realize then that many of the medications I'd take for the next two decades would cause yeast infections. I now ask my doctor to also prescribe medication for that at the same time, and I always have it on hand. A lovely side effect.

One day I decided to drive to Target and discovered the closest one was 100 miles away. I didn't have anything else to do, so I hopped in my Chevy Cavalier (I loved that car) and drove to Springfield, MO. While driving back to the hotel through the Ozark Mountains I drove into a horrific thunderstorm. I actually had to pull over to the side of the road under a bridge and wait. I've never done that before or since. It made me realize perhaps my driving all over the country by myself might not always be the best idea. 

While I was in Missouri I pretended like everything was fine. I didn't get much time with my ex, but I didn't want it to be tainted with my being sick. One afternoon I went to the grocery store and bought some strawberries. I ate a lot of them as a snack, and it was then that I discovered the havoc seeds will wreak on my body. I was so violently ill I had to crawl to the bathroom. So much for not spoiling the visit. 

The week before school started I headed back to WV. I was in rush hour traffic near Columbus, Ohio on a Friday afternoon when I rear ended the truck in front of me. It shattered my windshield and my air bag deployed. I pulled to the shoulder and stumbled from the car, ears ringing and face bleeding from the air bag. The guy I'd hit sustained no damage to his truck, but my Cavalier was a mess. I didn't know what to do once the accident report was filed, so I kept driving home. I didn't have a cell phone and stopped at a rest area to call my ex from a pay phone. I called his cell several times but he didn't answer. Then I called my dad who offered to come get me, but the windshield wasn't too bad on the driver's side. I decided to just drive home. Unfortunately my car would take a few weeks to repair, so it would mean my brother and I would share a car until my car was ready. 

My second year of law school started, and I settled into my new class routine. My brother and I were sharing a car which wasn't super convenient, but we still lived together so we made it work. One brilliant sunny September morning, September 11, 2001, my brother dropped me off at law school for my 8 am class. He was planning to pick me up so I could then take him downtown because I had a large break between classes. When I walked outside he looked at me and said, " A plane crashed into the World Trade Center." I was in disbelief as I drove downtown and dropped him off. I went home and sat in front of the TV, watching the tragic images we've all seen a million times.

My brother called me from his class, and as I gave him updates he relayed them to classmates. He asked me to come get him, knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate. We sat in front of the TV all day, stunned. I was also freaking out because my ex was in the Army. I was a brand new military wife, and I had no idea what this attack on our country meant. I called his cell phone and room repeatedly, leaving frantic messages. When he called me back later that day he was very irritated with my freak out. It wouldn't affect him because he was still in training, but how was I to know that?

My second year of law school started out weird, and even though I wasn't feeling great I was still having fun. I'm not a big fan of Halloween, but one of my friends suggested we dress up as badass chicks from the Moulin Rouge for the big party at the law school. We had a blast, and I love this photo of us with the dean. He was justifiably uncomfortable. 

Three badass chicks from the Moulin Rouge. And our law school dean.

Shortly after Halloween I was at a routine exam with my OB/GYN. I was in the room, feet in stirrups, and he walked in and grabbed my shin. I had a grainy mole that hadn't been there very long. He asked how long I'd had it, and I said 6 months, not really knowing for sure. He asked if I had anything following the appointment, and left the room. He came back and handed me a card, telling me I would leave his office and go to a dermatologist a mile or so away.

I went to the dermatologist who removed the mole and seemed unconcerned. My Crohn's symptoms were really out of control, and I was irritated by this new inconvenience. I forgot about the mole removal as soon as it happened. A few weeks later the doctor called my house really early while I was still sleeping. When I answered he gruffly told me that the mole was melanoma. I started laughing. He was surprised by that reaction, and I told him that my body was such a mess. I went back to his office where they removed more of the area around where the mole had been. Luckily we caught it very early, and it started a vigilant, lifelong monitoring of my skin, both at home and bi-annually by the dermatologist. 

I still had stitches in my skin when I flew to Fort Leonard Wood for my ex's graduation from Officer Basic Course. It was the week of Thanksgiving, and I was not physically okay. We went out with his classmates, and I obviously didn't fit in. It was the first time I realized being married and 22 in this world wasn't ideal.

We left Missouri and drove to Texas where he would be stationed. We spent Thanksgiving with a military friend whose family had a ranch. It was my first time away from my family for any holiday, and I was struggling. I'd also been told to have my stitches removed, and our only option was going to the ER on the military base to do it. Nothing about the week was fun or convenient.

I finished my third semester of law school and my in-laws drove me back to Texas. My ex and I spent Christmas by ourselves. I remember calling home on Christmas Eve and crying off and on for the rest of the night. It was really hard being away from my family. Even so I was married, so I made the decision to spend my third year of law school visiting at a school in Texas. Most law schools allow students to "visit" for up to a year at another accredited law school, and WVU granted me this opportunity. 

My first Christmas away from home. I was devastated.

That spring my GI told me about a new(ish) type of drug, a biologic that was more targeted than steroids. I began receiving Remicade infusions in the spring of 2002. The first infusion was so complicated they admitted me to the hospital. I sat on a hospital bed while it was infused and a nurse monitored me closely for allergic reaction. 

The week of the first Remicade infusion I had several very large abscesses along my bum and bikini line. They were so painful. In just a few days they went away, and I cautiously told my mom I thought the infusion had worked. For the first time in a year I felt a glimmer of hope. I was also admitted to Baylor University as a visiting student for my third year of law school, so it was time for me to move to Texas.