The day I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease was one of the worst of my life. Yet it ultimately led me to help thousands of people around the world cope with the disorder
As told to Malkie Schulman by Meira (Marci) Reiss
Seventeen years ago, I was married for several years but not yet blessed with children. After a number of unsuccessful fertility treatments, our rabbi suggested we take a vacation before the next grueling round. My husband planned a wonderful trip to a beachfront resort in Dana Point, California.
Before we drove down, I developed a bad headache and took some over-the-counter headache medication. As we arrived at our destination, I could feel the pounding worsening, so I popped a few more pills. Late the next day, as we were strolling along the beach, I was hit with stomach pain so intense, I could barely breathe. I doubled over in a cold sweat. I managed to get back to the hotel where I locked myself in the bathroom.
I was in terrible pain and hemorrhaging from my intestines. It’s hard to believe now that my husband and I — two intelligent young adults — let this go on for hours, but we were in shock. Finally, after ten hours of bleeding, I called my older brother, then a young doctor. He told me to get to an emergency room immediately.
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