Sugarfree

I say I’m sugar free and then I eat chocolate.

Only anything with 70% cocoa content or over mind you, but it still has sugar. I tell myself I can’t live without it, that it's my little treat, a square a day can't hurt. It is the one thing I never forgo, funny that, I’ve managed to stop coffee, and let it be know I was one of the school-run mum's that drops the kids off then lines up religiously at Planet Organic for a soya cappuccino but not the chocolate.

I’ve actually stopped soya for the most part too.

I read an article on leaky gut and how when the stomach wall isn’t functioning anything that it gets familiar or overloaded with overtime will make a leaky gut not behave as it should. I took this to mean that anything I eat on a regular basis, ie daily, my stomach will be reacting bad to, this is only during a flare, when I'm well I can eat anything.

This time round, that daily thing would be soya milk, so I’ve swapped it with oat milk.

After my last flare I gave up sugar, dairy, wheat, eggs and yeast and towards the end coffee.
My fave things used to be: marmite on toast, eggy soldiers, poached eggs on toast, cheese, pizza and wine. I managed to change my diet radically, with the help of Deliciously Ella’s cookbooks, Kris Carr's  Crazy Sexy Diet and the Hemsley sisters.

I also meditated daily for ten minute with the headspace app.

I found the breathing technique got me to a toilet (when I was caught short) accident-free, more often than not and helped with the pain. I’d be fast-walking down the street, cramping with urgence and counting ten deep breaths in and out on a loop, until I got to the place of relief. Although if you have colitis there isn't really any relief when you get to your destination, as your gut is probably either twisted or cramped, so mainly mucous and blood splatter - and a sense of underachievement! Nice.

God this is so gross, I don’t know why I’m writing this, or putting myself through the reliving of it.
Ah yes, because I am going to get well - remember all the positive talk dear?

I've got your back.
I can do this, etc. blah, blah, blah.

So far, I am being good-ish. Why do we humans always find it so hard to obey the rules we set ourselves? Or is that just me.

11 years ago I was put on a trial diet in conjunction with University College Hospital. A lovely young doctor was researching diet’s effect on ulcerative colitis. It worked. I got well. The premise was to test patients for any foods that showed markers of intolerance and to avoid them, keeping a food diary. Mine were yeast and egg. It took 3 months. I got well.

I was happy, I was slim.

As soon as no one was monitoring me, I slipped back into old eating habits.

We moved, life took a stressful turn for the worse, my ulcerative colitis flared up again.

I got well.

And here I am in flare again....

Do I think stomach issues cause depression?

Well they certainly don’t help.

My mood has gone way down since my colitis kicked back in. It’s hard to be positive when your body isn't behaving as you wish. But then I think of all the people out there living their best lives under much worse conditions and I know that self pity is not self-serving.

So come on girl, eat well, exercise, love yourself, listen to yourself, do things you enjoy, be kind to yourself. Everything I've just written, in my head, I've said ‘and other people’, maybe it's my co-dependancy that lies at the root.

When I was first diagnosed in my twenties, after a long period of cramping, bleeding, stool samples, colonoscopies, sigmoidoscopes, many many ’oscopies, the lovely doctor stood over me prostrate on a bed, waiting for an ’oscopie said:
‘What happened?’ so gently, that I told her.
‘My mum died, and my boyfriend slept with my bestfriend.’
‘Oh you poor thing. She said.
And well, there it was... and there it stayed.

I know there are studies saying the intestines are the largest organ in the body after the skin and they affect way more of our bodies than we give them credit for, mood, brain function, skin, hydration, inflammation, joint pain, probably even eyesight.

It stands to reason that if your gut wall is inflamed the nutrients from food are not going to be getting through.

I bet if I only juiced and meditated in a spa in the sunshine for a week I’d feel better. In reality however I don’t think I’ll be getting there anytime soon.

So delete the brain niggles:
Mother-in-law contact - dodgy presently.
Neighbour situation - dodgy at present.
Shared freehold situation - dodgy at present.
Jasper's birthday party - not fully planned.
Jacob’s situation - dodgy at present.
Home situation - dodgy at present.
Money situation - dodgy at present.

...and focus on the positive.
Jasper is lovely.
Got onto new course - yay.
Taking control of my life little by little.
Friends are lovely.
I’m alive.

Crispgate

Stupidly ate a handful of onion rings around 5pm, after being really good, why do I self sabotage this way. Man they were tasty, but I don't think it was worth it. Spent the evening feeling bloated and close to a loo. Checked the ingredients and they contain sugar and wheat - duh, what an idiot. So self sabotage and putting myself down, way to go.

The day had been so good too. Enrolled on my new course which is super exciting, retraining to do be a gardener at 50.

I didn't eat breakfast and only took water and all was well. I ate overnight oats for lunch, all good, then came crispgate. Honestly, I put my hands up in exasperation at myself.

Anyway, today is a new day.

Crazy Colitis Not Sexy Diet

3 runs to the loo so far this morning, two pairs of pants, 1 pyjama bottom and a bathmat down.
Slightly regretting the extra bowl of lentil stew with brown rice last night but man I was hungry.

Start the day with a glass of hot water and half a lemon juiced.
A tsp of iron supplement.
My thyroxine tablets
Vitamin B12 supplement
A probiotic

Another dash to the loo, which interrupts looking for my phone in the bed.

Really want a cup of tea, so make one with oat milk. I'm not going to have coffee and I'm not going to beat myself up about having tea.

Find out my Crazy Sexy Diet Book by the amazing Kris Carr and turn to day 1 of the 21 day cleanse.

I'm stopping dairy and meat and sugar for the next 21 days. I can do this. The hardest thing will be the alcohol, as there are two parties coming up, but I think wine is a bad one for me.

The thing I'm resisting most is the meditation. I've got the free version of the Headspace app which offers a 3 min breathing exercise, I choose the female voice - it sounds like Ella from Deliciously, which is disconcerting. I try not to think of monopolisation and what has happened to Andy Puddicombe, breathe, it's only 3 minutes. Where is my breath, I think it should be in my stomach but it's more in my chest and shoulders, don't worry the voice says, there is no right or wrong place to feel the breath.

The meditation stops.

See I've done it now, 3 minutes, wasn't so hard was it, just do that every day, in the morning.
I'm taking some kids swimming this morning, so there's my exercise for the day. I won't be eating before that!

I stretch my arms straight up and clasp them together, this isn't easy, I bend over slowly with my legs straight and aim towards the floor, not quite.

Kriss Carr reccomends juice and liquids until lunch. I'll have my overnight oats for lunch then!

A reminder to change my patch pings up on my mobile.

Overnight Oats

See, I really am trying to be good. I’ve made overnight oats for the morning. 

Simply layer a jar with healthy goodness of your choice: oats, seeds, berries whatever you have, then top up with water or a plant-based milk, put the lid on and pop in fridge. Give it a turn and a shake whenever you remember and in the morning eat straight from the jar! Handily portable for work too.

I used:

Rolled oats

Pumpkin Seeds

Cocoa nibs

Buckwheat

Shredded Coconut

Frozen blackberries

Chia seeds

Jam jar overnight oats

Bristol Stool Chart Cake

This, dear reader, is The Bristol Stool Chart, made in cake form. 

Bristol Stool Chart Cake

I made this cake with the kids for a friend who is a nurse, on June 8th of this year, only 2 months ago. I was in remission and pooing nice number 4s thank you very much.  I could happily eat cake on that day, incorporating dairy, sugar and gluten without any change to my regular once in the morning bowel movement. Ah, the not too distant memory. ...

Today I’m on 6s and 7s and visiting the bathroom anything up to and over 20 times a day.

The Bristol Stool Chart is used in the healthcare industry to describe stools (poos). A happy poo is in the middle of the chart, towards the top is constipated and at the bottom is diarrhoea.

Bristol Stool Chart

Oh to be a sausage or snake, smooth and soft! This is why I am blogging, to chart my road to colitis remission.

Christmas Chutney

Darn it.

I had a cup of coffee this morning, it being Sunday and all. The only trouble is, I now think it will be one of the things going onto my avoid in flare-up list. My stomach bloated, and then - you guessed it, trips to the bathroom.

Boring.

From tomorrow, I’ll be cutting out coffee too.

It's always, ‘from tomorrow’ - don’t you find?

But I really mean it. I want to be well by Christmas. I've made fig and olive chutney and I haven't been able to they it, I reckon it’s going to go really well with gorgonzola and red wine, only I can’t have gorgonzola and red wine when I’m in flare, well I can, but I'd have to pay for it in toilet trips afterwards.

I'm so near to when I wasn’t in flare that it is still tangible to me. It takes a long time for my digestive system to get completely out of whack, and I believe it is never one thing. It’s usually a combo of badness, not enough selfcare, not enough exercise, too much stress, worrying about things, not talking enough, not being creative, not eating well, not taking probiotics, not meditating, not breathing properly, oh many, many things. And to get back into remission it is not just one thing either, and it takes time.

This is why I've started this blog, to see if my theory is true and to chart my recovery, because I am going to recover and I am going to have that glass of fine wine with cheese and my homemade chutney at Christmas.

End of.

Chart this

Tireder than a tired thing yesterday eve, fell asleep whilst putting Jasper to bed - which was not good for my relationship with Jacob - he was on a promise, a promise he’d negotiated but even so...

Usual wake up call to the bathroom, 3 visits.

Decide to be good today but feel pretty rubbish. Look pale and my skin feels like sandpaper, lots of tiny bumps on my face and back, congested is definitely the word.

Manage to do two sun salutations and hold a plank for 40seconds.

Spend the morning making a chart.Realise I’m not spending enough time on myself, or ‘me time’ as it is known nowadays, which means I actually put ‘relax in bath’ on my chart.

Remedy this a little by painting my toenails dark crimson and dressing in a vintage pink pencil skirt and crimson jumper, which I can tuck in, wear this to shops with silver converse which incorporates a brisk walk running errands.

Feel slightly better, there is a lot to be said for movement (physical not bowel).

Fuck it.

I go to the local library to meet with a Citizen’s Advice advisor about my debts, mainly credit card and mainly borrowed to pay off other shortfalls, they have mounted over the years and although I manage them, it would be amazing to get some advice about a plausible way out.

I am 8th in the queue, we all fill out forms with name and address, some people leave. I look through a copy of The Stage, a couple ask advice about taking the building company who worked on their house to court.

Eventually it is me, a nice young guy takes a few more details and tries to make an appointment with a debt advisor, only there are no appointments. We swap numbers and he says he will contact me with an appointment date for next month.

I’ve eaten nothing, so feel no urgency to rush to a loo and make it home uneventfully.

Once home and safe, I go to the toilet, it’s basically brown wee, but out of my arse.

Jacob takes Jasper and I for lunch, I have Thai red tofu curry with white rice and vegetarian spring rolls plus dipping sauce, all bad for my colitis, but I’m still in 'fuck it’ mode.

Home, another brown bottom wee and my tummy starts to make growling noise an hour later.

My feet are really dry, I massage in some Flexitol 25% Urea Cream that we have just bought for Jasper’s foot eczema.

I know it is not just one thing that puts me ‘in flare’ - which is what colitis is called when it is active.

Mine has been dormant for about three years, all through counselling, thyroid cancer, jaw lumps, Jacob’s step-mum freaking out and calling the Spanish Civil Guard on us, Jacob’s mother freaking out because her son was dying, my beautiful best friend, Fiona committing suicide, after her younger sister had brutally killed her mother, Jacob’s older brother dying from cancer, Jacob’s beautiful friend Miguel dying suddenly from an undiagnosed heart condition, me taking anti-depressants, me coming off anti-depressants, Jacob self-medicating cocaine and alcohol on a regular basis, my beautiful sister having a boob removed and being treated for breast cancer. All that, yes ALL THAT.

 I guess a colitis flare up as well would have been too much.

I have my back

Pooed myself on the white sofa this morning.

Jacob brought me a cup of tea (with oat milk), I got up, feeling shell-shocked from last night’s uncharacteristic tears, and sat under the duvet on the sofa.

Jacob: ‘I need to go to the bathroom, will you be okay?’

Moi: (Feeling absolutely okay), I'm fine you go.

After about a minute, I am not okay, waves of heat radiate through my body and a cramp hits my lower abdomen, I breathe deeply, counting each breath, telling myself I will make it, he will be out soon, he will be cross - because he asked, because he will feel he has put me in discomfort, because I said I was fine. I can’t hold it in.

I jump up and run into the kitchen (laminate floor not carpet), I pull my pants off as dark brown matter leaves me, I throw the pants in the bin and find a wet wipe to clean my legs. I use an old tea towel to clean up the floor and throw that and my nice pants into the bin, I go back into the living room and see a stain of dark brown and mucous where I was sat on the white sofa - ‘shit’- literally.

I wipe it off with an antibacterial wipe.

Jacob comes out of the bathroom and catches me naked from the waist down. I run into the bathroom.

‘I asked you if you were okay’, his voice trails after me.

I say nothing and sit on the toilet.

Relieved, I emerge and take the cushion from the sofa, spray bleach on the brown spot and put the cover in the washing machine.

I empty the kitchen bin, with my pooey pants and soiled tea towel, double bag it and knot it tightly.

I run a quick bath and jump in.

I wash and get dressed, a grey vest top and my wraparound Indian skirt in turquoise and royal blues. My hair is wavy from the plaits I wore yesterday.

I clean my teeth looking in the mirror, and spot the lump under my jaw on the righthand side. I close my mouth, my jawline is still there, thank goodness - the lump is not fully back yet.

I decide to start a blog.

I tell myself: I have my back, I can do this. I will look after you. I am beautiful. I take a selfie from above - flattering angle, then one in the mirror - flattering mirror.

Jacob goes out for a walk.

I write this.