Ginger-Turmeric Tonic


Ten years ago today, I lay on a hospital bed before what was supposed to be an appendectomy. I had eaten half of an egg roll the night before, and my body had revolted. The surgeon told me that he would not be removing my appendix, after all. It was a close call, and most of my intestinal tract would have needed to be removed if he hadn’t paused for a moment. Had they cut me open as planned, the infection would have spread.

It turned out, appendicitis was one more (brief) misdiagnosis to add to my five previous years of feeling awful. I had started to get sick when I was fourteen. I wish I never learned to comply with the world telling me how it is, when it isn’t.

Except, the surgeon used words like autoimmune and incurable at me this time. It was almost comical, after five years of being told I was fine when I wasn’t. Because, hearing those words, I really just didn’t want it to be true. When you grow in a world that gaslights you, you don’t want the answer you finally receive to mean forever. You want to receive one pill and be fine and have the pleasure of having been right and then go on living your life as a healthy, untethered human. But, forever–it turned out, it felt worse for a moment not to hear that I was fine.

I joked to everyone who knew me that my distended abdomen (that had led to my hospitalization) was merely a very odd pregnancy. Like some parents announce the gender of their child, I announced a…Crohn’s baby?

[I suppose I just wanted to change the conversation.] It can be hard to learn you have something you can never get rid of. And everyone wants to “help.” But, just like everything else in life, I have learned that the only thing I have the power to do is to accept it, within my realm of capability.

I use that language because it isn’t totally surrender. I am not resigned to my circumstances, even if some of it involves enduring things that are less than enjoyable. And, the truth is, there are a lot of aspects you aren’t thinking of beyond the disease that I do not enjoy. The treatment itself, for example. The testing I’ve had. The social component of having a body that functions differently. The exhaustion. Having one more difficult-to-understand layer upon layer upon layer.

Because incurable isn’t solved when I make you a list of foods I can’t eat. That isn’t how it works. It’s the time of day. It’s how much. It’s whether I’ve exercised yet. It’s how I woke up feeling. It’s how much sleep I got. It’s what else I’ve eaten that day. It’s what time I have to be up tomorrow.

The only way for me to deal is to know that I function differently, and to know that there is a language I have to learn to speak, and that it is the kind my body is trying to help me crack. I have to trust my own wisdom before anybody else’s.

Ten years ago, when I was told I had severe fistulizing Crohn’s, I was socialized to think my answer should be, No I don’t. And maybe, someplace and sometime, it is true. [That I don’t.]

Truthfully: if I waved a magic wand, I would probably want that, among other things. But I would never want the last ten years to go away. The lessons. The pain. The recovery. The self-efficacy. The discovery.

If my ability to enjoy deliciousness had never left and come back to me…I wouldn’t be writing this right now. Until I know the other side of things, all I can do is listen to and abide by my own rules as they make themselves known to me.

the process can be just as important as the getting there

[To read the only other post I have written about this, click here.]

Coffee Coffee Cake

Hummingbird Sheet Cake with Pineapple Cream Cheese Frosting

Chocolate Fudge Cake

Leftover Peppermint Bark Brownies

Norwegian Butter Cookies {Serinakaker}

The Winter Playlist 2018

& – I love you and

I know now that I will miss you.

Days will pass and I will think
of you, and I will be many things


for a time, but it will clear
as things do, and I will remember


the moment I last saw you
before all of it will arrive (and stay a while)
before passing, and I will think


how I wish I could be there
again to tell you back then


I love you
and I know now
that is the most important thing.

❤ kc