When I first got sick four years ago, it took me about eight months to get a Crohn’s diagnosis. I ended up in the hospital for a week, was dosed up on massive amounts of steroids, given a prescription for some ridiculously expensive drugs and was sent on my way. I didn’t get better. In fact my disease progressed. My doctor wanted me to start Remicade, a biologic medication that suppresses the immune system that causes all my problems. I was hesitant because there are a myriad of issues that go along these drugs. It’s a long term type of chemotherapy, and I would wager no one wants to do that willingly. Now I’m going to get very raw for a moment. I ended up with a perianal abscess and a fistula, an abnormal tract, from my intestines that went through my sphincter muscles. To put it bluntly, I felt like my ass was falling out and I required immediate surgery. I woke up from the procedure and the first thing I remember was the nurse trying to explain to me that there was a plastic straw