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Lit up green photos 💚

On Monday the Council House and Green’s Windmill in Nottingham lit up green to support HAN week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to go and see them as we had gone to Birmingham to watch some sport at the Commonwealth Games but my incredible parents went and took these photos for me. 










My story also got picked up by The Mirror and Walesonline…seems crazy to think of how many people may have read it and might have learned about artificial nutrition for the first time. 



I’ve had lots of positive feedback, especially from friends and family about the articles but there is another side of living with bowel disease and all it’s associated complications. Lots of people have told me I’m ‘brave’ and ‘inspirational’ and I’m not a big fan of those words. Because what these people don’t see was me sat in bed crying this morning because I didn’t have the energy to take the 10 steps to the bathroom. What nobody saw was me having to text Big Girl (who was in her bedroom across the hall from mine) to tell her I’m too poorly this morning to take her to the hairdressers and ask her if she can she get the bus there. Nobody saw me sobbing for 15 minutes with Hubby in between his zoom meetings telling him that I don’t know if I want to chance going on holiday to Cornwall even though not going will break my heart. The amount of stuff I have to sort out to go away is ridiculous and I don’t know if I will have the energy to do it. I am also terrified of getting down there and ending up in hospital like last year. And since going to the Commonwealth Games on Monday I’ve been unable to get out of bed. Is there any point of me travelling 7 hours to Cornwall just to spend most of the time in a different bed?? 

Big Fella desperately needs new trainers as his feet just won’t stop growing and I have no idea when I might be well enough to take him to the shops. And it’s not just as simple as ‘well Hubby can take him’. My poor husband works 12 hours a day, sometimes more, has to do all the household chores and all the adulting in the house. Plus look after me when I’m at home. I sometimes wonder if I’m more of a burden to him at home or when I’m stuck in the hospital. So I’m not brave. I’m not inspirational. I’m just a mum, who is very poorly, struggling mentally and just doing her best to survive. One day at a time. 
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