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chronic illness

Travel

Visiting West Palm Beach, Florida

by Sarah Birdsong

I’ve known my best friend, Cara, for ten years. We met sometime during July of 2009 but we weren’t too keen on each other. We had plenty of pretend reasons not to—our respective partners were jealous or insecure, we were unhappy at where we found ourselves in life, and we’d fallen into that trap of thinking women had to compete with other women.

Yet, in spite of that, we did manage to forge a relationship.

I distinctly remember the moment it happened: we were out with a group of friends at our local brewery (before craft beer became a personality type) and she was introducing me to the ambrosia that is “Hummingbird Water.” That is, Ace’s Pear Cider mixed with Lindeman’s Framboise and a dash of Grenadine. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Cara accidentally spat directly onto my face, mid-sentence.

Feigning politeness though no less taken aback by disgusted horror, I stared at her. There was a moment of silence.

“Did I just spit on you?”

“… yes.”

The pause deepened.

“Well… you can wipe it off now.”

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Chronic Illness

Chronic Illness: Dissolution by Degrees

by Sarah Birdsong

In this blog, I’ll be following the chain of events described in the Groundswell of my health’s dissolution. I’d intended to post it sooner, however, much of what happened to me is lost in fog. Added to that, I’ve struggled with details I should or should not share. For all the hand-wringing, I’ve finally managed to produce the second part of the hellish saga this past year has been.

By January 1st, 2018, I was 124lbs—31lbs down from my former 155lbs. Sean enrolled me on his insurance plan, a managed healthcare consortium, meaning I needed a new doctor. My third specialist referred me to my fourth within its strict network. Bordering on destitute in more ways than one, I managed to keep hope alive by reminding myself that 2018 was the best time in human history to be ill.

I’d managed to secure full-time employment following my termination, and fortunately, it was a work-from-home position. I was able to work from the comfort of my couch. This worked out in my long-term favor, as I was often too ill to put myself together. Later, I would be too ill drive.

However, this meant that I was slowly becoming more and more immobile with each passing day. This bloomed into a bevy of health risks I couldn’t even begin to predict.

Before I go on, I must again express the following disclaimer: our bodies are all different. The expression of our diseases will be different even if we share a diagnosis. What works for me may not work for you. I can only share my experiences in the hope that they will help someone who may need the information.

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Beauty

Pravana Red Shadow Roots

by Sarah Birdsong

If you’ve tooled around on this blog for even a moment, you’ll notice my favorite color is red. In the beginning of 2018, Sean and I prepared footage of my then new hair color; red shadow roots. Unfortunately, my hair no longer looks like this, due to extreme Telogen Effluvium—hair loss. The culmination of two autoimmune disorders and a protracted state of malnutrition due to an ongoing Crohn’s flare has all but spelled the death of my hair.

Since then, I’ve both rocked a side shave and gone full mohawk. If I’m going to lose most of my hair, I’m going to grow it back out on my terms instead of trying to nurse these limp strands back to life.

I’m not the only person to suffer this kind of hair loss due to Crohn’s, either; Hayley over at Chronically Fulfilled began shedding just three months after her own severe flare. I can’t say for certain when mine began, because I was far too ill to notice. By the time I’d sussed it out, my hair was already thin and limp, clogging my shower drain.

That said, I wanted to share the content we filmed earlier this year anyway, and use it as a baseline for my hair’s recovery. Today’s post will not be about my hair loss, but rather, its color.

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A story in three parts: my Crohn's journey, from start to finish.
Chronic Illness

Chronic Illness: the Groundswell

by Sarah Birdsong

I know I’ve been suspiciously absent for months now. I alluded to medical hardships in my previous post regarding my birthday, but left it at that. I’d intended to start this much sooner than now, however, the whole of 2018 has been spent bedridden or in the hospital. I’ll begin with a story in three parts before moving on to what you can do if you or someone you know are in a similar situation. More than anything, I wish for this blog to be the resource I didn’t have when I needed it.

But please remember this: we are all different. Our bodies are unique. The expression of our diseases will be different even if we share a diagnosis. What works for me may not work for you. I can only share my experiences in the hope that they will help someone who may need the information.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Chronic illness is a ticking time bomb and your body is the fuse. It isn’t something you can prepare for, diet your way into or out of, or run from on the treadmill. For those of us with genetic factors, it isn’t a matter of if. It’s when.

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