ImproveCareNow Story_of_self


Jennie | Story of Self

jendavid91Years ago, a doctor asked me to draw a pie-chart and shade in how much Crohn’s affected my life. I remember hesitating and then looked up and said it was impossible. There was no way to decide where my life and my Crohn’s didn’t walk hand-in-hand, they were as intertwined as written words on paper. Alone it might just be blank pages and a pen, but together they make a story.

 

I had just turned 12 when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. This is what I remember most about that time: being scared, confused, alone, angry, lost, lonely, and feeling robbed. I didn’t know what Crohn’s was before my diagnosis and thought that it meant taking a pill and not eating broccoli. I did not want to be sick, in fact I refused it, and wished that I could rewind the past few months and never be diagnosed.

 

But a lot can happen in 9 years, and indeed a lot has happened. I tried every medication to little avail, spent copious amounts of time in the hospital away from school and friends, dealt with people’s ignorance about bowel disease, and acquired a medical vocabulary. I’ve lost count of the PICC scars on my arms and the medications I took. I have boxes of medical ID bracelets and needle caps and finger puppets (the reward for a blood-draw at my pediatric hospital). And even though it’s an enviable collection, what I am most proud of is being involved in awareness and advocacy through Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of Canada (CCFC) and our Youth Advisory Council (YAC) here.

 

When I was applying to college, people who didn’t know me well would timidly warn me, “Oh you should stay at home for school. You’re sick”. I absolutely hate being told what I cannot do, because no one else can tell me what I’m incapable of. I left Nova Scotia for Boston University, where I’ll be a senior in the fall. I’m studying Psychology and plan to apply for a clinical PhD in pediatric health psychology in the winter. It’s a mouthful, but I want to be a pediatric psychologist for chronically ill children.

 

After my freshman year at BU, I became extremely sick during the summer. I had spent so long feeling unwell that it seemed ordinary to me. My GI scoped me and saw the inflammation in my colon was severe and the bowel had begun to die. I was so relieved to hear the news because it meant that something drastic would finally be done. I chose to have a proctocolectomy (aka everything after the small intestine is gone) and a permanent ileostomy. I love my bag so very much, it was the right choice for me and my disease, and wouldn’t trade it for the world’s best working colon.

 

I think that one of the hardest parts about living with IBD is understanding that it’s chronic. I don’t think we ever have a solid understanding of the word since there is virtually nothing in our lives that is stays the same forever. We grow, we move away, we meet new friends, we watch new television shows. Even though it’s been almost a decade of being an IBDer, there are still mornings when I remember my ostomy and can’t believe what’s happened to my body.

 

I was recently in Peru to hike Machu Picchu to raise awareness about IBD and ostomies. People asked me if it were possible go back and take away my Crohn’s if I would. I said no, because I wouldn’t trade the clarity that living with IBD has given me on my life and what I want to do for anything. I am not my IBD, I’m just a girl who likes to run, loves Patrick Dempsey, and could probably win a banana-eating contest. And everyday I do my best to live by the words I wrote to myself after being diagnosed, “You hope to rise above your disease and excel”.

 

Jennie


I've been lucky.

It first occurred to me while organizing the Big Blue Box, a jumbled collection of boxes, bottles, and doctors’ notes. A friend walked into my dorm room as I transferred that week’s supply of pills into my backpack. She already understood the basics of IBD, but I took the opportunity to introduce her to my crew of prescription superheroes.

 

I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis in 2008 at fourteen. It took just one month. I got lucky. I woke up from my first set of scopes to find out I’d won a ride to the inpatient floor. I was told to expect at least a week-long sleepover. Instead, my body ate up the Prednisone like candy, and I managed to break out after three days. Lucky for the second time.

 

My first superhero was Asacol. It gave me a sweet two months of remission. I flared again in 2009. This was my worst IBD flare to date, no doubt, but again I got lucky. I avoided an inpatient stay. I responded to Prednisone again. The rash on my skin that threatened to take my beloved Asacol away turned out to be a benign condition. I won’t deny the facts: the pain was unbearable at times, I felt very isolated in school, and I re-flared halfway through my Prednisone taper. I still think myself lucky.

 

I met a new superhero: 6mp. My parents and I feared it at first. It had the dreaded C word attached to its reputation. It came with an abundance of blood tests and risks. It also saved my colon. I’ve had very few side effects, and none of them significant. I expected nausea or worse to come out and, bam, hit me in the face, but they didn’t. Remission finally stuck around. I’ve had no significant disease activity since 2009.

 

Through it all, IBD was my secret. Poop isn’t really a comfortable topic of conversation in high school. I hated how my disease had affected my high school social life. I decided I needed to reach an emotional remission to match my physical remission: I would control how my disease affected my life, not vice versa. I joined an online support group. I’ve met and bonded with other teens with IBD. I’m a member of the ImproveCareNow patient advisory council. This year, I’ll be a volunteer counselor at CCFA Camp Oasis. I’ve found my voice, or at least I’m trying.

 

I have friends without colons. I have friends that dream of remission. I have friends that have dietary restrictions I don’t have or feeding tubes. I don’t pity them, but I do consider myself lucky. Every patient’s story is different, and none of us chose our story ahead of time. We didn’t get to preview our particular path through the disease and approve or veto it. I don’t know why my path has been less bumpy than my friends’. It makes me sad. If I could, I would share my remission with them. I can’t explain why things are the way they are, so I just call myself lucky.

 

That day in my dorm room with the Big Blue Box, all of this ran through my mind.

 

“This just makes me feel so bad for you,” she said finally.

 

The story rushed through my head from the beginning - where I started, how far I’ve come. My story is my own, but my passion for sharing it is about so much more than me. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.

 

“I’m okay,” I say. It’s true. I’ve been lucky.


How I live with IBD

Optimism is a wonderful thing that the world needs to have more of. Dictionary.com defines optimism as “a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome” or “the belief that good ultimately predominates over evil in the world.” Optimism is what pulls a person through adversity; gives a person hope; and makes patients heroes that serve as role models for other patients.

 

My six-year experience with Crohn’s Disease has included the bottom up approach in finding medications and without all that much success; hospitalizations; resection surgeries; alternative ways of finding nutrition, and lots of pain. Some may think that it’s hard to be optimistic with all of this, but I have two choices.  I guess I could wallow in self-pity or face it head on, and try to stay optimistic.  The latter is my choice; I think a better path to follow and it sure makes it easier to keep up the fight.

 

Some of my optimism is natural or part of my personality I guess.  Part of it is telling myself that I can beat this thing and that maybe someday they will find a cure; in fact maybe I will be a Doctor someday and be part of that research.  Friends and family certainly help, and maybe the odd distraction (like music, or a good movie …).  For the most part I guess I am optimistic because I refuse to give up hope. I believe in staying strong.  In my opinion, keep looking beyond the day-to-day challenges and hoping tomorrow will be a bit better. Without hope, there is no way of getting through the struggle.

 

I also get some of my optimism from others; specifically from other patients.  Seeing what others go through makes my battle look small. These patients serve as my heroes and role models – probably because I see what they are going through and certainly can appreciate it when I compare their condition to mine. The biggest hero in my life today does not have IBD; she has Cystic Fibrosis. She has had to put university on hold while she waits for a double lung transplant. She goes in and out of the hospital for weeks at a time and never gives up hope. She is optimistic and in the face of hard times she devotes her time to other patients. What is inspiring is her ongoing optimism; someday, I wish that others would look at me and think the same thing – that good ultimately predominates over evil in the world.


Story of Self | Jill Plevinsky

Jill Plevinsky Jill Plevinsky | Patient Advisory Council Chair

I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at age 7 and have grown up to become both personally and professionally invested in the pediatric inflammatory bowel disease (IBD) population. Through my interest in improving the lives of these patients and their families, I became involved with the C3N Project and ImproveCareNow primarily as the founding chair of the Patient Advisory Council, which serves the initiatives of both projects.

 

I currently live in Cambridge, MA having recently earned my M.A. in child development from Tufts University. As I continue my collaborative work with the C3N Project and ImproveCareNow, I hope to eventually earn my PhD in clinical psychology and continue research and program development efforts that will help improve the accessibility of social support and overall health-related quality of life for all patients with IBD. I have a special interest in utilizing social technologies and social media platforms to do so because my own avid use of these tools has helped me to broaden my own patient network beyond friends I had met through experiences earlier on in life through pediatric support groups and Camp Oasis.

 

My own experience at these support groups and the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America’s Camp Oasis program initially inspired me to dedicate my higher education and career goals to young patients with IBD, and I hope that my insights and unique perspective from that of a patient and a researcher helps LOOP readers to better understand how ImproveCareNow is striving to make a difference from the top down.


Story of Self | Noel Jacobs

My mother said that when I was in first grade, she knew I would be a psychologist.

I came home from school one day, excited to have my first-grade pictures!  Remember those big sheets that you had to painstakingly cut into little squares? I was proud of my pictures and couldn’t wait to pass them out.


Learning about changing health care systems – My story

 

As a young person growing up in Washington, DC in the late 60s and early 70s, I was immersed in the importance of changing the system.  My father was a lawyer and my mother a social worker.  My family placed a strong emphasis on taking responsibility for making things better.   Several years later, when I decided to go to medical school in New York City to train at Bellevue Hospital, I wanted to experience medicine in one of the country’s biggest urban public hospitals. During medical school, I also decided to join the National Health Service Corps as a way to provide service.

 

Fresh out of residency, I was eager to put into practice all that I had learned.  However, I wasn’t able to start my work in Corps in Rochester, New York immediately. I found a position with the Elmwood Pediatric Group while I waited for my service to begin.  After I began my service, I continued to spend parts of days and weekends at the Elmwood Group.

 

There was a striking difference in the environment of the private practice and the neighborhood clinic. At the clinic, appointments were scheduled twice a day in blocks, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Mothers and children waited for hours in a cramped waiting room devoid of pictures or toys.  At the Elmwood Group, we saw many more patients, equally complicated cases, in a schedule that ran on time.  At Elmwood, I would see poor kids with asthma whose disease I could manage much more effectively than I could at the health center because it was easier to develop an effective relationship with patients in a system that ran efficiently and that communicated a sense of caring. In short, I was struck by my inability to produce the same outcomes (even though I was the same person) working in two different systems. It was simply unavoidable that my effectiveness as a clinician depended on the system in which I was working.

 

I also discovered that by focusing on what patients need and want, I could change the system. After I was named director of pediatrics at the clinic, I took what I learned about efficient office operations at the private practice, did some reading about queuing theory and succeeded in implementing a scheduling system that improved the experience for patients and increased the number of children for whom we cared by about 50%, with no increase in staff, while reducing the number of no-shows.  From this experience, I also learned that changing the system affected not only the patients but also the doctors caring for them. It was so much more satisfying for all the physicians to see patients in a system that ran efficiently, communicating to our patients that we respected their time.

 

My appreciation for the importance of the healthcare delivery system deepened when Corps transferred me to a storefront clinic the south central neighborhood of Los Angeles.  By the time I left Rochester, I had realized that I needed to have more skills than I had learned in medical school if I was going to change the system. I wasn’t hesitant to share my “big ideas” for better healthcare delivery with my partners of the Elmwood Group. One evening after work, one of them put his arm on my shoulder and said, “don’t become one of those researchers who just studies why those of us in practice don’t use evidence or don’t provide the best care for our patients. You better figure out how to be useful.”

 

This was a defining moment.  Over the past 20 years, I have studied and learned about how to use and apply improvement science and systems engineering to enable doctors, nurses and, now patients work together to make health care the best it can be, applying the knowledge we have today, and discovering and creating innovations that will make care better tomorrow.  That’s why I’m proud to be part of the ImproveCareNow Network.


Story of Self | nocolon33

I was 8 years old when diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in 1975.  That was the dark ages.  Non-flexible scopes.  Months and months without a diagnosis.  Wait!  There’s still that months and months without a diagnosis problem.  That’s something we’re working on fixing.

After a fairly mild disease course for 20 years, my UC worsened significantly in 1994 resulting in a full colectomy in 1996.  Guess what, though?  This blog isn’t about me.

 

 


Story of Self

Richard Colletti, MD Network Director of ImproveCareNow

ImproveCareNow Network Director and Physician Leader for the Vermont Children's Hospital at Fletcher Allen Health Care - Dr. Richard Colletti - in his own words. 

Like other pediatric gastroenterologists who care for children with Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis, I try to learn as much as I can about my patient, as much as I can about the disease, and to care about both.  But the care that a patient gets doesn’t just depend on how much a doctor knows, or how much a doctor cares—it depends on the system in which the doctor works.


← Previous  1  2    5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13
if page.is_commentable? include "comments" endif

Built by Veracity Media on NationBuilder