Alright ladies and gents, ready for a topic that is a little... well... real?
I.B.S or Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I have it.
Let's get one thing out there now. We are all adults, (or close enough) and this syndrome means I have poop issues. There. I said it. Poop. Have we all giggled now? Can we move on? Okay.
I remember being in kindergarten and having really bad stomach aches. I would be in a lot of pain. I thought I had to go to the bathroom, but nothing would happen. So my mom took me to the doctor. After quite a bit of time talking to the doc, and not understanding what a stool had to do with my stomach... I realized she was talking about my poop. Certain foods irritate my insides. which causes pain, difficulty going to the bathroom and when a bowel movement happens, it is a bad day. So bad in fact, that as a child, I'd be in so much pain trying to poop that I would just hold it in until the pain went away. This resulted in me being very constipated. Which also makes for a lot of bad days.
The foods that really irritate my stomach are greasy foods, and acidic foods. Their are different types of acid. For example, oranges have one type, and tomatoes have another. This means anything with tomatoes, tomato sauce, tomato paste or tomato chunks... it's a no go. I can't have pizza, pasta with tomato stuff in it, anything deep fried, fried in general, or meats that are fatty.
Little tid-bit about me. I am an extremely picky eater. Like, its bad. I also have major texture issues. I won't eat foods with weird textures. I'll totally start gagging. All of this on top of a restricted IBS diet, I only eat like four things.
Let's fast forward to middle school. IBS never goes away. At least not for me. I tried the diet but I really only had a few meals I could eat. So I began eating pizza and pasta and burgers and all of the things I was told not to eat. (That was the greatest and most painful day of my life.) When you have poop issues, especially as bad as mine, it causes your breath to stink. I was made fun of for YEARS and called "dog breath." (Calling you out middle school bullies!)
IBS is a sneaky little booger. Sometimes I can eat fried chicken, pizza and a burger, (unhealthy but whatevs) all in one day and nothing happens. Sometimes I eat spaghetti for dinner and twenty minutes later I am on the floor in the fetal position crying and trying to crawl up the stairs to the bathroom.
The worst example of this:
My husband and I were in the first few months of dating and his VW Jetta needed repairs. We were able to drive it up to Salt Lake (about 50 mins away) to a shop that specialized in VWs. They told us the repairs would take a few days so we went to dinner with my husbands uncle and he let us drive his car back home. We ate at Chilie's and I had some sort of taco something-or-other. (first mistake) As we got on the highway, I felt the familiar rumbly in my tumbly. Sometimes, if I am lucky, I can just sweat it out. Literally. I sit in agonizing pain for about ten minutes, sweat like crazy, and it will pass. Nope. Not this time. I had to explain to my somewhat new boyfriend that we needed to stop. Now. "Hey um, do you think we could stop? I need to use the restroom." to which he replied, "We will be home in 30 minutes, do you think you can wait?"
ha. uh no. At this point I felt like I was going to blow a hole in the seat if we didn't stop in 30 seconds. Either try and keep my cool and possibly go in the car, or express the urgency and have to explain my poop issues way earlier than I planned. So after a lot of screaming, breathing like I was about to give birth, and crushing his right hand, I made it to a bathroom. This trip earned the code name Pompeii.
Life with IBS is tricky and quite embarrassing. I decided to write this blog early this morning between the hours of 2:30am and 5:30am while in the bathroom. I would go, then lay on the floor and sleep for 15 mins, get up and go again. For. Three. Hours. I was in so much pain that I remember thinking... giving birth to a human can't be much worse than this.
This is, and will be the most real post I'll ever write. This is the least known fact about me. This is the most embarrassing fact about me. And this is what it is like living with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
Until next time...
