Sara - Sometimes I think it's all in my head...

Sometimes I'll be lying down, in a lull when the pain has taken a back-seat, and I'll start to wonder whether I'm making this all up. Or rather, that the pain and the symptoms I have are things a normal person would deal with just fine, but because I'm the biggest drama queen I know, they render me useless. I can't go out for long periods of time because the pain will force me to hunch over or I'll need to go home to take my meal supplement. Too long at school will completely drain my energy and leave me exhausted for a weekend; too little school and I'll get stressed and feel worthless (because let's face it, there's not much going in my life when you eliminate school). I'm trying to find the balance but it's really hard, and often - when I'm in one of my little self-loathing, over-emotional, tears-everywhere sessions - it's hard to even find the motivation to keep going with it all.

I've not written on here in a while: it's been a combination of me being really sad for a great deal of  time (and me sad does not make for quality writing, that's certain) and nothing interesting happening - or, at least, nothing I could muster the enthusiasm to write about. Unless, of course, you're the type of person who gets a kick out of reading about how much I want a sandwich (or hot chips, or some chocolate, or a piece of damn bread, or a glass of juice). I've been going to school as much as I can - unfortunately, that's only been about four hours a day, with regular absences. The fatigue is ever-present and it's got to be one of the more difficult things because it ruins my ability to think logically and function like a proper person. The pain is still there, worse than ever really, but I suppose it's less frequent. Nausea, fevers, the whole shebang.

I'm simultaneously terrified and optimistic about what's to come. The idea of being taken off this awful no-food diet in two weeks rather than six is admittedly one that appeals to me right now, and I'm inclined to lean towards anything that will end this whole regime of feeling crappy as soon as possible. That part of me says "Bring on the infliximab." And then there's the other part, the one that freaks out a little at the thought of high-grade medications with increased side effects - particularly the one my doctor spoke about could further thicken the already inflamed  section of my intestines, possibly leaving me completely obstructed again, which might send me back into hospital with an NG tube (which is not an experience I care to relive). And the bit of me that wants to run and hide any time anyone ever wants to up the meds or do a scope or really further the whole process. But I suppose that part of me will just need to learn to bite her tongue.

This coming week is camp, which is terrifying for more reasons than one. For starters, it's a week of being away from my mother - another way I've reverted to early childhood, alongside the whole "not eating" thing, is my hugely increased dependency on my mother. I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with my all-over-the-place-emotions; whose going to make my drinks up for me when I'm feeling terribly nauseous and don't want to move from my bed? I'm emotionally vulnerable enough right now, so just imagine what that will be like in a week's time. Especially when you consider that I'll be forced into the 24/7 company of people who don't really know what's going on. Let's face it, I don't have the highest tolerance for other people, especially when they're being outstandingly stupid (and what environment fosters that better than a camp environment?). At home, I can escape from these people when the day is over, fall asleep on the couch, talk it through with my mother and people I see less often (Magda, if your were looking for your shout out, here's to being patient with me when I'm at my most frustrated) and refuel before I tackle them again. When you're sick and your patience is down, even people you love grate on you more often, and I hate myself for how horribly I treat my friends at the moment because I'm too tired to be selfless and I'm too sick to feel sorry about it.

That's not to mention the logistical problems that come from being on a "camp" while on a no-food diet, or sharing a bathroom with three other people. Or having no energy for mandatory hikes (never fear - the condition for my attendance was "No hiking"), or feeling sick halfway through group activities, or not being able to stomach anything involving the smell of food. And like with every outing at the moment, I have to be aware of where the nearest hospital is and alert the people immediately surrounding me of flags that call for hospitalisation. Plus the usual camp things - minimal sleep and an inability to return home healthy...

I wouldn't say I'm looking forward to it. I'm looking forward to the good bits, the relaxation, the hopeful distraction from the pain. I'm hoping people will be patient and considerate and, you know, not wave bits of food in front of my face.

And spoken like a true kid-these-days, I'll really miss the internet. See you all in a bit over a week. If you're interested in saying a bit of a prayer for me tonight, let it centre around my not running out of banana nesquik while away.

- Sara