The ~Digestive~ Movement
Food is a critical aspect of the human body — and so is the digestive system. When uncontrollable forces put a target on the back of your own cells, things can get pretty messy...
Sophia Petrillo, arguably the main character of The Golden Girls, once said the closest she felt to God was after eating Mexican food, broccoli, or deli meats ... and the list goes on.
She and I have quite a few things in common, the only difference being that she is sixty years my senior. Why, you may ask, do I have the gastrointestinal tract of someone with an AARP membership?
Simple. I have the “Pete Disease,” less commonly known as Crohn’s.
I’ve endured three years of uncomfortable, awkward trips to the public restrooms praying no one walks in as a demon exorcizes itself from my colon, bellowing and belching its foul substance into the porcelain bowl below. The sweaty palms, gut-wrenching (literally) pain, and exponentially decreasing shame in shitting two inches away from a fellow peer were all symptoms I could live with — until recently. More frequent pain, sudden weight loss, and overall poor quality of life landed me a flight home to see the GI doc.
It gets worse. To get a diagnosis, I had to go through a harrowing experience: I was to be wheeled into a cold room, naked and afraid. Then, a long tube was to be shoved up my butt all the way until it reached the junction of my small intestine (aka. six fucking feet into my body). But even before that, I had to prep by fasting and consuming nothing but clear liquid and laxatives.
As I was walking down the hallway, clenching my little IV pole, I contemplated that I may have easily been the youngest person alive to get a colonoscopy. Let’s just say the “in” crowd at the GI outpatient medical center was closer to becoming dust than celebrating their 21st.
YELENA FLEMING // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
A few biopsies later, I was told I have Crohn's Disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes inflammation in your colon and small intestine because your cells attack themselves. Great. My body hates itself. Another fun topic to unpack with my therapist, I guess.
I’m now reliant on little battery-acid-tasting pills to provide me with the ability to eat all the mouth-watering morsels I desire, and let me tell you, it is so worth it.
No longer am I afraid after shoveling heaping spoonfuls of refried beans, oozing cheese, and fresh jalapenos into my mouth, after which I will be forced to kindly smile at the waiter, ask where the bathroom is, calmly excuse myself while clumsily lurching out of the booth, thighs sticking and squeaking across the seat, discreetly speed walk while deep breathing and counting to 10, knock ferociously on the single stall door, quietly will myself to die when someone responds, cross my legs and squeeze my cheeks together so hard I could procure a diamond, rock back and forth, and finally dash in and lock the door as the old woman exits with a quizzical stare as I hasten to create a paper nest and then ...
Yeah, so the pills are great despite there being no cure.
The hardest part of this whole experience? The months leading up to my diagnosis where I had to cut out all foods that were not easily digested (aka everything but rice and lean proteins). I’m now grateful for being able to embrace flavors and foods that I couldn’t before.
Ultimately, what I have learned is that life is short, people! Enjoy food when you can! Calories were a ‘90s invention to capitalize off of people’s insecurities and desire to fit in. Of course, eating healthy (as in lots of fresh produce) is important, but I think what’s more important is to live life to the fullest, and for me, that means not focusing on my body image or whether food is “good” or “bad.”
There are so many more things to think about: hearing my friends laugh and converse when we have dinners together, enjoying flavor pairings, learning how to cook to minimize my Crohn’s symptoms, and being able to eat anything when I travel because I do not have to “earn” my food.
Picture this: Williamsburg 2022. I am microwaving my Trader Joe’s pot pie and digging in knowing there will be no need for a planned emergency bathroom escape route. I just sit back, relax, and enjoy this movement in a new era of relishing non-dining hall meals.