Managing Irritable Bowel Disease Flare-Ups Without Losing Your Mind
Gabby the Gut Whisperer is a lifesaver.
“You have ulcerative colitis and Irritable Bowel Disease,” my gastroenterologist told me as I was waking up from my colonoscopy.
This news was met with elation because I had an actual diagnosis. For the past year and a half, I have been toting around a tummy pouch that I lovingly named Percy, and my doctor chalked it up to menopause.
After three years, physicians chalked up every problem to menopause. Fluid on the knee — menopause; a rash on my thumb — menopausal eczema; painful bloating — menopause; migraines — menopause; vision change — menopause.
When my symptoms did not improve with the addition of quinoa, hydroponic lettuce, and figs, he suggested a colonoscopy but assured me it was simply “Mother Nature’s way of re-structuring.” That was the last hormonal straw, Mother Nature had taken on more personas than my fifth invisible child “I dunno” and I lost my pre-menopausal estrogen temper.
You can imagine why I was elated to have an actual diagnosis rather than another menopausal malaise that has no cure. The doctor explained that everyone’s body is different, and I would have to listen to my gut to let me know what foods to eat and steer clear of.
