Chopped Liver

I'm miserable tonight. Maybe it's due to the fact that it's the weekend of the Broad Street Run in Philly, which I was supposed to run. It's the second consecutive run that got cancelled when I found out I was getting surgery. Meeting with my surgeon on Wednesday, she was adamant about waiting at least another 2 weeks before attempting any type of "mileage". She reiterated the point by showing me pictures of herniated abdominal wall from people who rushed recovery.

After meeting with the surgeon Wednesday, I followed up with my GI today. We went over the results of my liver biopsies that they took during my gallbladder surgery. I am once again a medical anomaly, and have a form of liver disease typically seen in obese 50-65 year old women. I do not fit into any of the risk factors, and really are unsure of what has caused my liver to progress this far in disease, at my age. He referred me to a great hepatologist, who can hopefully pinpoint why my liver has become diseased, and how we can treat whatever is going on. I was originally diagnosed with Nonalcoholic Fatty Liver Disease. This progressed first to Nonalcoholic Steatohepatitis, and now I have fibrosis. The fourth and final stage is the cirrhosis. It is extremely rare to have someone who is physically fit, under the age of forty with no history of diabetes, hypertension, viral hepatitis or rapid weight loss to develop fibrosis. I unfortunately am a rare case. At this point it does not look evident that it was drug induced, but it may be an extra-intestinal manifestation of the Crohn's.

I also have to go for yet another colonoscopy next week, which is always such a joy. My blood work has been funky lately, even with starting the Humira, and with everything else going on, he wants to do more biopsies.

I'm just cranky. It's not often I ask the question of "Why me?". At this point, the frustration of disease interfering with normal activities has gotten to me. My wine, and more importantly, running have been taking from me.  I was surviving quite well when the pleasure of enjoying food was taken from me, but subtracting running and wine from my life together has made me a bit miserable. I don't even drink much, but it's the proverbial icing on the cake. Since my TBI, normal life functions, have been ripped from me. Memories, cognitive ability, coordination, walking, sleeping, have all been taken away. I have gotten parts of each function back, but having these innate human functions taken away has taken a toll on me. I know that wine, food, and running are all luxuries, but taking away my simplest of pleasures, my releases, my stress relievers, my coping strategies for dealing with the more substantial losses, I am, for lack of a better word, cranky. I'm working on staying optimistic, adding in some walking, and trying to remind myself that it's all for the best for my body.