Weak gut, strong girl

Well, friends and family — I’m back!
My liver surgery was 709 days ago, and a lot has happened since then. In many ways, I feel so much better. I have a more joyful outlook on life, I’m not living in (as much) fear, and I can genuinely enjoy the things that bring me happiness.

Over the summer, I ended up back in the hospital with abdominal pain I was sure was appendicitis. My appendix was inflamed — but only because my entire midsection was inflamed. I’m a little sad to report that I still have my appendix; I always dreamed of having it removed like Madeline did in the children’s book.

I’ve been dealing with some discomfort, but nothing compared to what I was experiencing pre-surgery. I’ve gotten exceptionally good at putting on a mask, a trait I developed after years of doctors insisting I was “fine” when I wasn’t. After seeing my regular PCP three times with the same complaints after my hospital visit and nothing being addressed, I found myself on the path toward discomfort-acceptance once again. Maybe this is just how life goes with no gallbladder and half a liver?

But here’s what I’m learning: people don’t have to live in discomfort.

I started seeing a functional medicine doctor recommended to me by my nutritionist. Holy information. I still don’t know how to properly explain what functional medicine is, but here’s a link to an article that can. After lots of bloodwork (and some other fun samples), my symptoms were once again validated: a parasitic infection and two bacterial infections — all in my gut.

I’ll be damned.

It’s almost funny. What I thought was a once-in-a-lifetime experience was now happening again. As I wrote previously:
“All this time I had known something was wrong, but all this time I was dismissed as a healthy-presenting young white girl.”
And there I was, back in a doctor’s office, being told that the discomfort I’d been feeling had a real reason behind it. I was validated. Again. The same flood of emotions came rushing in — I knew I was right. And yet, here I am, with three different infections literally stealing nutrients from my body to fuel themselves.

Honestly? I’m exhausted.
I’m tired of being different.
I’m tired of feeling uncomfortable.
I’m tired of feeling like a science experiment.
I’m tired of watching other people treat their bodies like garbage cans while I do everything I can to treat mine with care — and still, this is how I’m rewarded.

I have a love/hate relationship with the phrase, “You’re so brave!”
I’m not brave. I’m strong.
I get up every day and push through the discomfort because the only alternative is giving up. I’m strong because I now take 28 pills a day to rid my body of these infections. I’m strong because I still have hope. I’m strong because I’m fighting every single day just to simply live.

I don’t feel great most days. I just get by. But I have so much hope — hope that I’ll be okay. That I’ll feel “normal.” That these 28 pills will finally eradicate the parasite and two bacteria trying to steal my life from me.

I’m only about two weeks into this new treatment. Hopefully, I’ll be able to report back in a few months with good news: that I’m living parasite- and infection-free.

In the meantime, I’m still doing the things I love. I’m still hopeful. I’m still seeing the bright side of life.
Being strong is the best thing I’ve ever done.