Content Warning: This post contains detailed descriptions of gastrointestinal symptoms, medical procedures, and graphic health experiences.
After the abscess was lanced in late May, I thought I was on the road to recovery. The relief was real, the drainage was healing, and I was managing the discomfort. I genuinely believed this was just an unfortunate complication from the Norovirus and that I could finally move on with my life.
I was wrong.
When the Pain Came Back
About two weeks later, on the night of June 6th, I woke up in the middle of the night with the most severe pain I’d ever experienced in my upper abdomen. It felt like the worst gas pain imaginable, but amplified to a level I didn’t know was possible. I couldn’t find a position that helped. I couldn’t breathe through it. I ended up back in the ER.
They performed an ultrasound and found sludge in my gallbladder. The conversation shifted to potentially needing my gallbladder removed. Just another thing to add to the list, I thought. But at least it was an answer. At least it was something they could fix.
By June 17th, I was back at the gastroenterologist because the abscess was returning. The pain was back. That familiar pressure and discomfort that I’d hoped I’d never feel again. We scheduled a CT scan for the next day to get a clearer picture of both the abscess and my gallbladder.
The Day Everything Got Worse
June 18th was a day I won’t soon forget. I went in for my scheduled CT scan that morning. The results showed something new: a fistula. An anal fistula at the 6:00 position, extending to the abscess, which measured 5.6 x 4.6 x 3.8 cm. This wasn’t just an abscess anymore. This was a pathway, a connection that shouldn’t exist. This was my body creating its own problems.
But I didn’t have much time to process that information. Later that evening, the pain came back with a vengeance. I couldn’t wait for the surgery scheduled for the next day, so I went to the ER to have it lanced.
I was sitting in the waiting room when the abscess ruptured.
Let me paint you a picture of how disgusting and horrifying this was. I was in a waiting room full of people when I felt it happen. Blood and pus everywhere. I had to waddle myself to the bathroom, holding my hands in place trying to cover the disgusting scene. There’s no dignified way to handle something like that in public. When I returned from the bathroom, they took me right in. They admitted me and kept me overnight, and I still had the surgery the next day—June 19th—to properly clean out the abscess and pack it for better healing.
The surgery on the 19th went well. They cleaned everything out, packed it properly, and sent me home to heal. And you know what? The abscess hasn’t returned since then. That part, at least, was finally handled.
But the Pain Continued
The very next day, June 20th, I had another massive pain attack. This time it was primarily in my lower right abdomen—an area that had been giving me steady, dull pain for over a month at that point. Back to the ER I went.
I started eating very strictly after that first severe abdomen pain. I limited myself to oatmeal in the morning, a plain turkey sandwich at lunch, and baked chicken with green beans, carrots, and rice in the evening. Nothing spicy. Nothing complicated. Nothing that might upset my system. I was trying to give my body the easiest possible time digesting food.
It didn’t matter.
On June 28th, same pain, same location, same ER. We were running out of explanations, and I was running out of patience.
Finally, Some Answers
July 15th brought my first colonoscopy. They found polyps—removed most of them, but a couple were too large to handle during that procedure. More importantly, they confirmed inflammation in my ileum.
This is when I got the diagnosis: Crohn’s disease.
The fistula, the abscess, the inflammation—they all fit together now. It wasn’t a series of unrelated problems. It was one disease causing everything. In a strange way, it was almost a relief to have a name for what was happening to me.
On July 25th, I had a scheduled MRI to get clearer pictures of my complete abdomen. They wanted to see the full extent of what was going on. August 4th brought an ultrasound with the gastroenterologist to check on things. We were gathering information, building a complete picture.
Just When I Thought It Couldn’t Get Worse
Then in August, while I was dealing with all of this, I managed to trip coming out a door onto a deck. I slightly fractured and severely sprained my ankle on August 9th. Because apparently, my body wasn’t challenging me enough already.
Eight days later, on August 17th, I experienced vision changes that seemed like they might be a stroke. Back to the ER I went, terrified. Thank God there were no signs of a stroke—they classified it as a TIA. But during those scans, they found I have a carotid web. Just another thing to monitor, another complication to track.
Between my gut, my ankle, and now my cardiovascular system, I was starting to feel like my body was falling apart piece by piece.
The Second Colonoscopy
September 25th brought my second colonoscopy, where they removed the larger polyps they couldn’t handle the first time. I went home and ate. That night, I found myself back in the ER with severe gut pain again. That same super bloated feeling, like my abdomen might explode.
The next night I was okay, but that’s because I hadn’t eaten. The following day, September 27th, I had a smaller meal at dinner. The pain returned, but I managed to work through it without going to the ER.
Two days later, on September 29th, I had a larger meal. Within hours, I was experiencing extreme gas and bloating. I was burping like crazy. I even vomited a little. Back to the ER I went.
The colonoscopy had shown that the inflammation was down at the ileum, but things still weren’t normal. When I returned to the gastroenterologist on October 1st, he mentioned that I did have what looked like some inflammation in the small intestines as well. Not a lot, but he agreed that it might be causing just enough blockage to trigger the severe pain and bloating.
Where I Am Now
Currently, we’re scheduled to test for SIBO—Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth—to see if that might be causing the gas that’s leading to the pain. I’ve been started on steroids for the inflammation in the meantime, while we prepare me for biologics.
My gastroenterologist is recommending Remicade. It has a longer history of success that we can reference. He’s also open to me trying Tremfya or Skyrizi first if I want to see how those work, but he’s honest that they’re newer medications without the same track record.
For now, I’m eating smaller amounts of food and sticking strictly to the things I know I can tolerate. I’m learning to listen to my body in ways I never had to before. I’m learning what “normal” looks like for me now, which is very different from what it used to be.
This is my life with Crohn’s disease. It’s unpredictable. It’s painful. It’s exhausting. But at least now I know what I’m fighting.
In the next part of this series, I’ll discuss the decision-making process around biologics and what it’s like to navigate treatment options for a chronic illness. If you’re experiencing similar symptoms, please don’t wait—talk to your doctor.