Posted from www.talkaboutguts.com
And this Crohns Disease 12 Days of Christmas from John BradleyOn the 12th day of christmas, my cruel Crohn's gave to me
Twelve tummies rumbling,
Eleven guts a-griping,
Ten bowels a-seeping,
Nine boils a-lancing,
Eight stools a-bulking,
Seven meals a-skimming,
Six prescriptions a-paying,
Five tender rings,
Four falling turds,
Three humira pens,
Two latex gloves
And a probing up the fa-nee!
There was general confusion including the cat.
The bathroom was strewn with the ostomy ware,
That I had abandoned in utter despair.
The courage I'd had in the hospital bed,
To follow instructions, had suddenly fled.
It all looked so strange, and uncommonly new;
I swore I would never know quite what to do.
Now which goes to which, and what sticks to what?
I fumbled each step, with my nerves overwrought.
And then in my anguish, I went to my room,
To settle my brains for a night full of gloom.
With a household a-flutter in holiday matter,
I shut out the sounds of excitement and chatter.
When out in the hallway I heard from below,
The sound of a voice with a jolly "Hello."
As I peeked through the door, up the stairway she came;
And she smiled when she saw me, and called me by name.
And I, in my wonder, just couldn't believe,
That ostomy visits were made Christmas Eve.
And then in a twinkling she put me at ease,
And said she could lessen my anxieties.
She was dressed all in white, in a form-fitting sheath,
With nary a sign of what lay underneath.
So trim and well-groomed, a delight to behold,
No one would suspect, unless they'd been told.
That standing before me so calm and serene,
Was the very first ostomate I'd ever seen.
Her manner so friendly, with faith and good cheer,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to fear.
My questions, like leaves in a hurricane flew;
And with each knowing answer, my confidence grew.
Then under her guidance each part fell in place,
As I conquered the problem I'd just failed to face.
And all of a sudden I knew I was free,
To live just as normal and happy as she.
For only an ostomate is really akin,
To the fears and frustrations that lie deep within.
Her time and her friendship so willing to give,
Will keep me remembering as long as I live.
And my family was grateful for what she had done,
For once more the evening was festive and fun.
Now each time I meet her, more clearly I see
The "Saint" who came calling with blessings for me!!
Twas The Night Before a Crohn's Christmas...
'Twas the night before Christmas and everyone waited with glee
Except for the one in the bathroom-I have CD.
The Charmin was hung by the toilet with care
In hopes that I'd reach it before ruining more underwear.
I started at night when I was snug in my bed,
Those rumblings I heard were not in my head.
I'd been looking forward to a long, restful nap
But had to get up for a much needed crap
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I exited the crapper to see what was the matter!
I opened my door, and it hit like a flash…
This god-awful stench-I fell on my ass.
I opened my window and threw up in the snow
It covered the nativity scene down below.
And what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh with some tiny reindeer.
A decrepit old driver, not lively or quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
Slowly-with effort, those reindeer, they came
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now, Crohn's! Now, Colitis! Now J-Pouch and Ostomy!
On, Hemorrhoid! On, Fissure! On, Stool O Bloody!
To the top of the house, to the top of the wall!
Now dash, little bastards, and don't let me fall!"
And then, in an instant, I heard on the roof
The scratching and farting of that big, ol' dumb goof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his toe,
And he smelled like hell…he really had to go.
A bundle of toys he had flung on my couch.
He winked at me and said, "Wanna see my J-Pouch?"
His eyes-how they twinkled as he let out a fart.
It smelled worse than mine-nearly stopped my dear heart!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
If not for the beard, it'd resemble an @#%$!
The bags under his eyes-I saw the fatigue
That comes from living with Crohn's or UC.
Plus a bad case of D had filled his round belly,
And shook when he farted-it was oh, so smelly.
He was chubby and plump; he screamed at his elf.
I laughed when I saw this, in spite of myself.
The moon face, the mood swings-the twitch of his head,
I knew right away…side effects of the Pred.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to the bathroom
And filled my toilet with a *splat* and a VVVAROOOMMMMM!
Using his finger to close up his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh; he weighed ten pounds less.
And thanking me for the Charmin, he apologized for the mess.
As I heard him cry out, I realized he knew of our plight:
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!
"I'VE IBD TOO, AND I'M HAVING ONE HELL OF A NIGHT!"
