IBS Experience: Pictures, Prose and Poetry

CHAMBER OF HOPE

THOSE OF US WITH IBS
SURELY KNOW A LIFE OF DISTRESS
NEVER CERTAIN WHAT THE NEXT MOMENT WILL BRING
IN SPITE OF CAREFULLY DOING EVERYTHING
A DAILY GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE
SPINNING THE GEARS, PRAYING FOR REST
YET REMAIN ETERNALLY HOPEFUL … 
THAT WITHIN THIS RANDOM REVOLVING CELL
LIES OUR SHOT AT REDEMPTION, TRUSTING ALL WILL BE WELL

by Sue Fishman

Belly Ache

I want a bowl of chili, spicy with lots of heat.
 
I crave a rack of ribs, meat glistening with grease.
 
I dream of a hot fudge sundae topped with a cherry.
 
I’d like a slice of gooey pie – with any type of berry.
 
I sure would love some French fries and crispy onion rings.
 
But sadly, my tummy doesn’t like any of those things.
 
I remember juicy hot dogs and piles of corned beef,
 
Pizza and lasagna – before they gave me grief.
 
Wish I could go to a party and not eat before.
 
Walk in the room without scoping out the door.
 
Would be nice to join some friends at the latest trendy spot.
 
But checked out the menu and nothing looks so hot.
 
I could order some tea and play around with my food.
 
Then I’d feel silly and think I look rude.
 
I’d simply be happy with a good night’s sleep,
 
Without my stomach making a single peep.
 
Closing my eyes without the sound of gurgling gas.
 
Please just tonight – give me a pass.

by Madeline L.

It wakes me again
Moving across my abdomen from right to left
And back sometimes.
It is pain.
Quiet, screaming, doubled over pain.
Please find a place to hide in my feet upon feet of gut
So I may have some sleep and maybe some peace tonight.

by Kate Goegel

Ode to Dietary Needs

I am Low Fodmap and proud of it!
Why shouldn’t I be!
Homo sapiens aren’t meant to consume dairy,
But for us it’s the norm,
And it shouldn’t be!
People are considerate about the fact that
Wheelchairs need ramps, 
And broken arms need accommodations,
Why do people think Low-Fodmap stomachs don’t need Low-Fodmap foods?
They say we learn to live with it,
And we do.
BUT WE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO.

by Tracy – age 13

How far I’ve come

Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from the worry
The why, when and how
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from behind closed doors
Embarrassment inside of me
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from the discomfort
Both emotional and physical
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from the reliance
On remedies that didn’t work
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from the anxiety
I’d lived with for so long
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from fearing food
A diet of restriction
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from overthinking
And unhelpful habits
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from fearing my body
I’m now in control
 
Now I am further
Than I ever thought possible
Far from that identity
IBS no longer defines me

by Laura Day

What came naturally

This is the face that you see
When I arrive broken and out of my comfort zone
This is the body that holds the pain… And the brain that is telling me you won’t know how to help
 
This is me coming to you because I don’t know where else to go — or what else to do
But neither do you.
Running tests to appease diagnosing dis-ease thinking that some answer – even the wrong answer will bring me some measure of peace – and wellbeing. But it doesn’t 
 
Twenty years later I suffer still.
I have tried your pills 
I have taken your tests
But your eyes can’t see it
So it must be me.
 
I find a new kind of doctor!
Not a doctor at all!
No fancy white coat or medical degree
Only shelves filled with boxes of food I’ve never seen
They call themselves nutritionists and they seem to know exactly what I’m feeling!
It’s called IBS — and yes, it’s a thing! Their tests are different. Radical. Unheard of. Ahead of- the doctors who can’t see. But at least now I know it’s not me
 
I do a breath test. And I have gas. Methane it would seem. But still, the doctors can’t see. 
How many people and how much pain and how long must we complain? For you to see? 
There is more than what meets the eye
 
Take a moment to look at my face. See the grace. Feel my despair. 
I am hurting and I need you to care.

Anonymous

As the day begins,
I stress about digestion;
this is IBS.

by Cathy Blais

Woes and Joys

Walking a path I did not choose,
my body signals its woes;
Why can’t I eat my beloved peaches?
But still then
I’ve found a balance,
between love of food and love of self.
My body’s singing
when I finally embrace
the path between good health,
and the joy of food.

by Laura Marchetti-Schein

The Beast

I remember around grade 5, I frequently felt cramps in my gut. We would be playing soccer, & when I’d run, my cramps became bad enough I would double over at the waist. But, I wanted to catch the ball so badly, I would keep going. When my classmates turned & saw me running on all fours they’d stop & stare at my ape-like posture.
A substitute teacher nicknamed me The Beast.
“It’s just easier to run this way. It’s normal, I’m sure.”
 
I shared the above to an IBS support group & one kind member asked me the question, “What if you could rewrite that story, how you would have liked it to be”?
Here’s my response:
“the ball becomes this glittery glass sphere that transforms into a radiance of warm love when I touch it. From then on my symptoms go in the reverse: I get better with every year that goes by.”

by Luke Gary Allen Friesen
(click for audio)

To Feel Healthy Again

The weather is warm but my body is cold
Double sweater day
Double sweater day at my desk in the office
Don’t wanna wear the toque with the tassels
Cunning don’t ya think
Cunning don’t—yeah but it makes me stand out
Don’t want them to see me
See how bad it’s become
Get too close a look and they could count my ribs
Right down to the bottom
The bottom of this from where the nausea comes
It hurts

Where was I?
I should get back to work
As I click over from right monitor to left
I let out a low Wwwhhhooooaaaaa
Like I’ve just gotten high
Is this what pot feels like?
Drowsiness
Dizziness
Touched with the tip of euphoria
As my brain just let’s go
Can’t keep carrying
Any
More
What was that sales order number again?
…Can they tell?

It’s like high school
When my classmates assumed I was on something
I am
Barely
Here
What if my co-worker schemed a little?
Tried to tell me that I’m actually dreaming
Would I
Even
Know?
 
Truth is, I am deathly afraid
That what happened 20 years ago
Could happen again
Went to tree-planting for Silvaram
Foothills of Alberta
Northern edges of BC

I tried & tried & tried
& never gave up
Worked through the cramps
The diarrhea & drowsys
But
They fired me anyway!
That hurt more than anything
I had my knees on the seat of the Ford F450
My supervisor had to tell me
Thought I could see it hurt him too
It wasn’t his decision
I just bawled
Bawled my eyes out
I don’t know if I even said goodbye to my fellow planters
As I dragged myself 3 provinces over
Back to my life at home
Waiting to feel healthy again

by Luke Gary Allen Friesen
(click for audio)

The Spill

I come out of the bathroom wretched
Spent
Like my daily bread has just been robbed of me
Every child experiences diarrhea in some form, so I know you already know what that is like
Would it trouble you to know that mine is not that bad?
That my constipation is measured in hours & not in days?
Both are present simultaneously
I can’t explain it
 
The spilling of the bag of beans
The toppling of the big ol’ bowl of heaped marbles
In either case it is not so much the effect of the items hitting the ground
It is the trouble of collecting them again
 
One by one
Dust it off & place it back again
So that it can still be present
Useable
 
By the time this is done for me
I will be gone too long
When I’ve recovered enough—half of it, maybe—I will have missed opportunities
Many cares & chores & tasks
I will need to catch up on
Never mind catch up with
Ones I love
And miss

by Luke Gary Allen Friesen
(click for audio)