In honor of Father's day this month I've decided to focus on men and how IBD affects them. At first, I didn't think I would have much to discuss on the topic, though, seeing as I'm a woman and can't jump inside a guy's head. But, between my own experience with my Dad, who, like me, has Ulcerative Colitis, and some other gentlemen I know through my IBD advocacy it turns out there is much to discuss. So, this will be the first of two Shareposts I will write on this topic and this first one will focus on my Dad.
For me, personally, Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) didn't become a daily part of my life until I was 30 years old. But in reality, IBD has been a part of me my whole life, through my Dad.
As a child, long before my own IBD diagnosis, I had no idea my Dad had Ulcerative Colitis (UC). My Dad was just my Dad. I had no idea that the long periods of time he spent in the bathroom weren't typical. And as children we didn't question the medication that my parents might take, like the tiny, white pills my Dad took on such a regular basis that he tucked them into a small plastic box in his shirt pocket. I would later find out those pills were Lomotil, and they are prescribed to help slow down the gastrointestinal tract. Neither of my parents played with us much, but then again neither did any of my friend's parents, so that wasn't out of the ordinary either.
It wasn't until I went to college that my Mom told me my Dad had Ulcerative Colitis. And she only told me because I was having slight gut issues and when we went to the gastroenterologist's office they asked if there was any family history of IBD. After my appointment my Mom told me that my Dad was diagnosed around the age of thirty when he was in the Navy. They were married and already had two children, my older sisters. During one of his flare-ups he ended up hospitalized because of the loss of blood he had experienced. And the doctor's told my Mom to make sure all of his "papers" were in order "just in case." This was back in the early 1960's, so there wasn't much known about IBD, colonoscopy hadn't been invented, and their best treatment at the time was steroids. He lived, but ended up being medically discharged from the Navy. According to Mom he was very weak for many months and could only eat what I now call, "white and light" foods - baked chicken or fish, rice, scrambled eggs, yogurt, etc.
My Dad got his degree in dentistry and planned to practice in the Navy. But, when he was discharged he was on his own and had to figure out how to muster the energy and money to start his own dental practice. And that is the Father I grew up with, a man who was up at 6:00 A.M. and off to his office until noon when he would come home for lunch. Then he went back to the office from 1:00 - 5:00 P.M. He was involved in camera club, dental society, and played tennis every Wednesday night and at least one weekend day. He wasn't a Dad who seemed sick or oddly different than any of my other friends' fathers.
