10/11/2026
I’ve been sitting with something lately, trying to figure out how to put it into words.
I’ve officially been diagnosed with intestinal failure.
After everything my body has been through, I can’t say I’m completely surprised. But knowing how sick you are and having a diagnosis that confirms the severity of it are two very different feelings.
For those who don’t know, intestinal failure means that my intestines can no longer absorb enough nutrients and fluids to keep my body functioning on their own. It’s why I rely on TPN, receiving my nutrition directly through my bloodstream.
I’ve spent so much time fighting to be able to eat again, fighting through surgeries, complications, pain, vomiting, and hospitalizations. Somewhere along the way, my goal went from getting my old life back to simply finding a way to have some quality of life…
And that’s a really hard reality to accept at 33 years old.
I think one of the hardest things about chronic illness is constantly having to adjust to a new version of your life. Just when you think you’ve accepted where things are, something else changes.
I’m now facing another major surgery, and while I’m hopeful it will bring some relief, I’m also coming to terms with the fact that my future may look very different from what I once imagined.
I don’t have some inspirational speech about how strong I am or how everything happens for a reason…
Sometimes things just suck, and you’re allowed to acknowledge that.
I’m grieving. I’m frustrated. I’m exhausted. But more than anything, I just want the opportunity to live a life that isn’t completely consumed by being sick.
So, that’s where things stand right now. Another diagnosis, another chapter, and a whole lot of uncertainty.🖤