One. Year. Ago. Today.

This weekend, Bonfire Weekend, last year – give or take a day or two for the leap year, I was deep in the depths of my biggest flare up to date.

We sat around the table last night a Brownies Planning meeting, the two older leaders musing over the fact it has been a year AGAIN since Halloween. And I was just sat in dumb shock at how a year of my life has past before my eyes, yet again. However this time, I wasn’t musing over the nostalgia of the times go by, I was contemplating several things:

One; how on earth has it been a year, already?! I knew it had been many many MANY months since my last admission and last real bout of any significant pain and horrid Crohnie madness, but with all the lovely medications of the past 16 months, their effects are leeching into my memories and mind. So, I am surprised its been 12 months.. wow.

Two; What had I done since then? How was I better? I know that in absolute terms, I can’t ever been 100% better or indeed back to normal, but how am I doing? How can I measure that? Would it be flare free, because yes, I’m okay. It is problem free, because no, I’m not okay. I’ve had many bad days, but nothing so bad I couldn’t go to work for more than a day or two. I’ve had to tell a couple fibs and swap around my choices abit to get some much needed rest from persisting symptoms, but I haven’t been forced into the corner of “I must go back into the hospital, something is seriously wrong”. And for the most part, I’ve got Humira to take the credit for that.

Three; a year in the grand scheme of things feels like nothing. I spent a year in Canada and that felt just as quick. But I was away from home at university for four years, and that was such a long time. But, its all comparable to how you feel about time in general. It is now just flying past and its hard to get a handle on how to slow it down. I’ve come to the conclusion that you simply can’t slow it to how you want it, the earth will still spin at the same rate and the days will melt into the next one without as much as a bat of the eyelid.

But I will say this, I am proud of my year. I have shown incredible faith in myself. I’ve grown in self confidence and I’ve learnt lots of terrible and not-so-terrible lessons.

I can’t say I won’t feel the same in another twelve months, nor can I say that I won’t “regret” writing this, but for the time being, in the moment, I am happy. And whether or not I become sick again, whether it happens quickly or is drawn out by me “denying” it or struggling on for as long as possible, I know I can get back to square one again, and start once more. You know, for old times sake.

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