Skip to main content

Guest Blog- Sue's story

Hi! My name is Sue and I met Natalie in the Intestinal Failure Unit at St Marks this year. I have had Crohns since 1986. Crohns is similar to Ulcerative Collitis (UC) but can affect any part of your gut, from your mouth to your bottom, wheras UC only affects the large bowel. I had my first operation to remove all of my small bowel in 1987 and I was put on steroids.

Because of being on huge doses of steriods for such long periods of time I developed Addisons. The steriods destroyed my adrenal glands which mean that my body does not produce adrenalin. This can be really dangerous and I have to carry an injection with me at all time. If I got into an accident I could go into a coma. The injection would just need to be injected into my leg and my husband is also trained to do it incase I am ever too unwell to do it myself. I had to use it when my Mum died.

I had to have my second operation in 2000 and ended up with a stoma and a fistula. A fistual is an extra opening from the bowel to my stomach so I have this to deal with aswell. Because it seretes mucus and other stuff I cover it with a tiny stoma bag that they use for babies. This makes it easier to manage and stops it leaking onto my stoma and causing that to leak. After the operation in 2000 I ended up on life support for two weeks because of complications from the Addissons. I was in hospital for three months and wasn't allowed to eat during that time. I now have a Hickman line and ,like Natalie, I have 2 litre of fluids every night through it.

I am very lucky though. I have the most wonderful husband who does a lot for me (and kept us all supplied with toffee bon bons and buns from the village bakery while we were in St Marks!) I have five great children and 4 grand children and they all keep me going.


Info on Fistula's from Crohns and Collitis UK can ne found here
Info on Crohns Disease from NHS Direct can be found here
Info on Addisons Disease from NHS Direct can be found here
 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Light at the end of tunnel

I’m sat writing this blog post in St Marks, the specialist bowel hospital in London. So much has happened in the last few weeks; it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. But I finally feel like there is some hope at the end of the tunnel. Let me tell you why.  At the beginning of June I was admitted yet again to QMC in Nottingham with huge amounts of pain, my bowels not working properly and just feeling generally unwell. I had only been home a couple of weeks since the admission in May but I had been feeling so rubbish most of my time had been spent in bed. I had tried everything I could to stay at home but the pain had become so bad I was barely able to stand or take a few steps on my own.  I had expected to maybe be in for a week or two to get stronger pain meds and get back on my feet but I ended up being in for almost a month. They put me on morphine injections and ketamine but then stopped them when my heart rate dropped to 30 beats per minute and my breathing to 7 breaths a minute. Th

The light at the end of the tunnel is a train

Last week was a busy and pretty crappy week for me health wise. I had to go and have blood tests done with the nutrition nurses and I had two hospital appointments; one with the gallbladder surgeon in Nottingham and the other with colorectal surgeon at St Marks. I was hoping to have at least one surgery date to write in the diary following these appointments but I came home empty handed on both occasions. Here’s what happened.  I began noticing over the last few weeks that I’ve started feeling really crappy. I’m feel lucky to have been at home for the last 6 months and I have been the most well I have been for years but it felt like things had shifted slightly recently but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But years of being sick means I know my body and I can tell when something isn’t right. I have been feeling permanently exhausted and having way more bad days than good. I’ve gone back to spending 2, 3 or more consecutive days in bed, unable to do anything but watch tv and sleep.

The wrong size line

I’m on the M1 heading back to Nottingham after a road trip to St Marks to get my line repaired. But this is me, and as usual it wasn’t a smooth ride. More like a bloody shit show. So what happened? Let me tell you… After being admitted to QMC in Nottingham on Sunday with a broken Hickman line I was taken down to Interventional Radiology on Monday afternoon to get my line repaired. Firstly, I couldn’t believe it was happening so quickly and secondly I didn’t want to get too excited because, well it’s me, and usually things don’t go according to plan. And sadly I right to rein in the excitement.  When the doctor came to consent me for the procedure it was for a replacement, not a repair. I assumed he had made a mistake so I told him I was there to get my line repaired and was definitely not there for a new one. He looked at me and said “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” and that’s a sentence that never bodes well. He then went on to say that they didn’t have any repair kits and that