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The Day It All Began

I can remember it like it was yesterday.  I was at college in my fall semester of my senior year.  Everything was going very well for me.  My health was good, my grades were good.  It was the beginning of November, and the Fall season up in my Western Pennsylvanian school was in full swing.  That particular Saturday night, I was going to do what a lot of college students partake in:  I was heading to the local bar with a group of friends.  I started my usual pregame activities.  At nine o’ clock we started heading out for our nightly activity.

I do not remember if it was midnight or one in the morning.  It doesn’t matter.  I just remember suddenly having to go to the bathroom.  I usually never have the runs when I am out, so I thought it was kind of odd.  I tried to convince myself that I was going to wait until I got home.  I was wrong.  I had the worst stomachache, and had to suck it up to use the horrible bar bathroom.  I noticed that there was a pool of blood in the toilet.  Weird right?  Yes very weird.

My night and the upcoming days were about to get worse.

When I got home I had a couple more bouts before I went to bed.  I will tell you that I was too drunk to even think about what was wrong.  I figured I would worry about it when I woke up the next morning.  During the night I tossed and turned.  I used the bathroom a few times.  When I got up the next morning, I came to the conclusion that it was the drinking last night that something didn’t settle right with me.  I figured I would be better in the next few hours.  Boy was I wrong.  There was so much blood every time I went to the bathroom.  I was getting very tired and very nervous.

The next day,  I remember having to pull over to the side of the road, because my stomach pains were so intense.

I knew something was going on, and I didn’t know what.

I chose to call my parents.  I can only imagine how nerve wracking it must be when a parent gets a phone call from their kid who is very far away at school saying they are sick.  They really didn’t have an answer for me, and told me to go to the hospital since I was not close to my doctors.  I went to Gettysburg Hospital, a regional hospital in Pennsylvania.  They did a series of tests, which really didn’t have any thing to do with Crohn’s.  They figured I had a digestive infection and sent me home on oral antibiotics.

I went back to my dorm to try out the medication.  As the days went on, I could tell it was more serious then just an infection.  I couldn’t go to class, the pain and cramps were so severe.  I had to come home.  I had to come home to find out my fate.  I came home to do a colonoscopy to find out I had it.  I had Crohn’s.

This article represents the opinions, thoughts, and experiences of the author; none of this content has been paid for by any advertiser. The team does not recommend or endorse any products or treatments discussed herein. Learn more about how we maintain editorial integrity here.


  • thedancingcrohnie moderator
    9 months ago

    Ugh, this is heartbreaking, and your story is similar to mine in that I began with symptoms my senior year of college as well. I also had the stomach pains and the blood. I got diagnosed once I finished the semester and was home and saw a gastroenterologist.

    Always dancing,
    Elizabeth (team member)

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