February 15, 2016

This is my enema, every night I roll onto my side, lube up the pointy end and squeeze medicine into my bum.

Then I stay very still and boss Bill around if I need anything because Queenie has her enema in.

So many queens out there doing it tough with our individual health concerns, I wouldn’t be the ruler of the overshare if I didn’t talk about mine..

I remember the day I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis as the happiest day of my life. No shit, better then my wedding and better then the birthing of the spawn.

Because I am a cancer phobe. I get a headache and I’m convinced I have brain cancer, bloating? Ovarian cancer, freckles? Definitely Skin cancer.

I’ve always been a bit of a hypercondriac when I was a kid I thought I would catch lung cancer if I so much as saw someone smoking and when I was a sexually active single I’d get an AIDS test every time I had a cold. My health paranoia actually got a lot worse after having children, I was now facing a full blown illness anxiety disorder.

On one occasion my psychologist actually said to me

“while your fearing death, that life your so eager to keep is passing you by”

Scary isn’t it? Being scared of the fact that your always scared .

However after having Arlo at the age of 27 I started to develop my first real life Ulcerative Colitis symptoms…

That consists of but are not limited to diarrhoea, mucus and blood in your poo, stomach pains and gas.

Yeah, I did just say blood in my poo….

You can pretty much guess that I was planning my funeral, writing my will and struggling to leave my bedroom. I was so devastated, convinced I was leaving this incredible family that I had created, all I wanted was them.

So on the day that I had my colonoscopy, I woke up and awaited the news.

Ulcerative Colitis…. a life long chronic illness with no cure that you needed to take strong pills and put enemas in your bum for. I was stoked. It doesn’t kill you.

Watching your kids grow up is a privilege denied to many. I felt so privileged, I left the hospital doing my happy pelvic thrust dance.

Sometimes UC can really get me down, like the time that Bill bought me a really cool pair of white overalls with cute cat heads printed on them only I didn’t make it to the toilet in time and I threw them in the bin because I didn’t want the kids to see what had happened, I felt so defeated.

But I always remind myself of that ecstatic feeling I had the day I was diagnosed, the day the doctor told me I wasn’t dying and I get the fuck on with things.

Life is all about perspective

❤️ Con xxx

About the Author

Kat Abianac

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