“Awww, you poor Crohnee…”

For the last 10 years of my life, I have never once been made to really feel different or been given special treatment. And to be perfectly honest, that is exactly how I like it.

A large part of that had to do with the fact that most of my family and friends never really knew *exactly* what was wrong with me or how serious it was. Either way, I enjoyed not being constantly reminded that I had Crohn’s Disease.

However, after my recent 1 month stay in the hospital, of which 2 weeks were in the ICU, followed by a 6 hour surgery - it became difficult to hide my condition or how serious it was.

I knew coming out of it all that I was going to face lots of “special attention” and would need to immediately learn how to fight back. It didn’t take long for my immediate family and close relatives to understand my position. Also, witnessing my independence and fast recovery, most of them treat me as any other family member.

However, recently, this past weekend I was truly challenged when I reached my first major “special treatment.” I was attending the engagement party of a family member and meeting many people who had not seen me since the surgery.

Well, long story short, dinner came around and I helped myself to a plate-full at the buffet - mind you, I know what I can and cannot eat. Much to my surprise and humiliation, I was abruptly stopped on my way back to my seat and told that I just had to put my plate away and wait for “your special food.”

Don’t get me wrong, they meant well - as a matter of fact, they went through great hardship to have an entirely seperate meal prepared for me. But, the point was that that special treatment was absolutely un-invited and unnecessary.

I remember being absolutely humiliated (partly because it was also loudly announced and many people at nearby tables were staring at me as it happened). This being the first time I had really had to deal with something to this degree, I really lost focus on how to best deal with it.

I got very angry, I pushed food away and swore to not eat. I even had to LEAVE the hall and take a walk outside to calm myself down.

Even after leaving, I felt as if my blood was boiling, I refused to speak to anyone and continued to refuse to eat. The anger stayed with me through the night and finally I got over it in the morning.

So, what’s the moral of the story? Nothing really other than “Treating someone *special* when it is absolutely un-invited just consistently reminds them of their condition - you’re not helping, you’re hurting”

I truly believe that if you want to help - do it by refusing to treat them differently. Don’t give them special attention, demand that they learn to take care of themselves and stop feeling sorry for themself.

If we have Crohn’s, we have it for life (for now) - we need to learn to live with it and deal with it.

Can anyone else relate to feeling the same way?

5 April 2006 | Personal | Comments