being a teenager and getting crohns disease.

It was christmas 1975, i recall the smell of the season, the christmas films and the joy of expectation of presents. I do remember having a very severe abdominal pain, nothing like i had felt up to then, at age 13. then came a strong nausea and severe diarrhea. My family, oblivious to my problems, it was the festive period after all, doing what was right for me, my brother and sister.
Flip ahead to early spring, mock examinations, not feeling any better, experiencing sever pain, sickness and running to the toilet rolls. I didn’t know where i was, was i stressed because of school and exams, or, as i think i knew, was something wrong?
Eventually, unable to eat, being sick and curled up into a foetal position, and desperate for relief and answers, it was clear the weight was coming off me fast. My GP stupidly suggested it was puberty, a phase, the stresses of change. anything but what it really was. Reluctantly he referred me to Gastro at my local hospital. It appeared to be what I wanted, but why was i not sure?
Its late April, no energy, weight gone, can’t eat, severe diarrhea and sickness. Its hospital appointment day. I remember naively saying to my mother ” don’t let them inject me, i hate needles, please mam ” The Dr looks me up and down, examines me thoroughly, prodding my bones and rapidly diminishing body fat. He then gets out a glove..all crohns sufferers know what that means. It meant much more as a pretty naive, not very mature teen. After that experience, and being told i was being admitted, to an adult ward as well, I realised my life had changed, the future was unclear.
That first night on the adult ward, the nurses mothered me, other patients, all adult protected me.As the night staff switched the main lights off, my world had become bedpans, drips and the prospect of future ‘tests’. I ask the nurses what these tests would be, but get very non specific responses. Naively, i assumed they were 100% honest and knew little, they knew a lot but decided to protect me. I can’t recall how much sleep i got that first night, won’t have been much. I knew the pain and sickness, the dashes to the toilets, meant i was where i should be.
I was scared to hell and didn’t know what was happening. In many ways its a good thing I didn’t know what was to happen in the next 4 months, months which have had a bearing on the rest of my life and who i am today.
I cannot dwell adequately on this period giving it justice, but think this stage of the illness and my first investigations, treatment and surgery will be part of the blog on reflection. It forms so much of my relationship with crohns as a teenager with all the issues that brings.