I Want to Live Big

I had a wonderful but almost unthinkable daydream the other day. I wondered what it would be like to have healthy guts, what it would be like to be cured of all my bowel problems: IBD, IBS, and lactose intolerance.
Let's assume that the cures are realtively safe and simple. They don't require lengthy, overnight hospital stays, and there are no side effects. In my daydream, none of the cures for any of my gut conditions are too terribly difficult or horrible to endure. A cure for IBD is the most important cure of course, but not being lactose intolenrant or having IBS would be awesome.

If I were to be cured, the first thing I'd do is have a sob fest. My tears would not only be of joy for  being well for the first time in my life, but also tears of loss. I'd be upset that a cure wasn't found sooner, or that so many children have inflammatory bowel disease. Maybe I'd mourn for a friend who died of IBD complications, or a friend who needs a cure more than I do, and wasn't able to get the insurance or funds. I'd be upset for the people I couldn't give the gift of health.

I wonder what it would be like to live without pain or urgency. It'd be nice to go out for dinner with Holden and not scrounge the menu for a dish I can enjoy without getting ill and spending the rest of our date in the restroom I spotted when I walked in. I'd love to spend an entire day completely pain free. I don't remember the last time I spent a full twenty-fours hours without pain in my body from either my arthritis or my inflamed guts.

If I were cured, I'd never have to be aware of every single public restroom I see. I'd probably still do it out of habit, but I wouldn't have to. I also wouldn't have to ride the bus and suddenly realize that the day is going to be a long one, and I should have packed fresh underwear. I wouldn't spend so much time on the toilet at work that I wonder if my boss will fire me. I'd never have another awkward IBD moment again... That's a bizzarre thought.

The emotional wounds of this disease run deep, but would they ever close? Could I ever forgive myself for being a burden, both financially and emotionally to the people I love? With a cure, could I love my body?  Would being cured make it easier for me to accept myself?

If I were cured tomorrow, would I ever get to be young again? Would I take the oppurtunity to do as many stupid things as I can, because I grew up too fast and want to experience being in my twenties or teens just once? I think I would, but then, this disease has made me more wary and untrusting than I ever was before. Ulcerative colitis has forced me to grow up and be an adult faster than I ever wanted to, and I don't think my self-protecting habits will ever leave me. The anxiety I face as a result of IBD will stay with me forever. I'll always come into work ill because I'm afraid of losing my PTO for emergencies. I'll always penny-pinch to save in case of sick leave. My strange eating habits will stay with me forever, because I've had them as long as I was old enough to recognize what foods made me feel bad. I'll never really party because, personal beliefs aside, I'm so used to my body feeling achy and old and tired, that staying up all night to intoxicate myself is a waste of time and precious energy.

I hope I'd embrace health. I want to do things. I've wanted to travel Europe with nothing but a backpack, some cash, and a map since I was fifteen.  I can't do that now, not with the medications I am on. My dad travels the world for business trips, and when he's not working, he explores the countries he is in. Whenever I see the videos he's recorded on his trips, I struggle not to feel jealous. I'd love to go trekking through the jungles of Coasta Rica, or stroll the streets of Paris at night. I want to explore ancient churches and castles in Germany and Austria. I want to eat sushi in Tokyo, without worrying that I'll get sick. I want to experience the world, and right now, I'm trapped in my body. I love traveling. It revives me, but my disease is holding me hostage in the Midwest.

What would I want to be when I grow up? Would my dreams change? I want to go into gastroenterology to help others and because the topic fascinates me, but if I were cured and my body did not limit me, would I want a different life? When I was a child, I wanted to be tap dancer, an olympic figure skater, a policeman, a pilot, a linguist, a writer, a professor, a pychologist and a palentologist. My career dreams changed every few years, and by the time I graduated I tried to join the Marines. (I wasn't accepted because of my hearing loss. Bummer.) If my guts and hearing were decent enough to join the military, would I? Maybe if I were young enough. But that's a big maybe. Once I have my health back, I don't think I want to give it to anyone but my family. I'd rather use my health to make own path, not the military's.

The only thing I am sure of is this: I'd tackle hug my children everyday, love my husband with all my heart, make sacrifices for my family, try and love everyone I meet, and travel as often as I could afford. The rest is meaningless to me. I just want to enjoy every moment of life and live big.