Sunday, February 17, 2008

It's that al-Qaeda's fault

Some people believe stress can trigger ulcerative colitis.

No one really seems to know if this is true or not.

I’m not sure, but this is what was going on in my life in the weeks leading up to what I now know was my first flare up.

I was living in the West End of Glasgow, in a tenement flat, which I had bought 8 months earlier with my girlfriend.

Over a meal in our local Italian restaurant we broke up.

My girlfriend became my ex-girlfriend. But she was still my colleague.

Working together became intolerable, so I quit and decided to move back to London.

My boss didn’t want to lose me completely and found me an office in London’s Soho.

I arrived at Kings Cross with two bags of clothes and my laptop.

I signed the mortgage on my flat in Glasgow over to my ex. It was no longer ours, it was hers.

It’s fair to say I was drinking a lot. (I was consuming enough Guinness to drown not only my sorrows, but also those of half of London’s lonely-hearted.)

Working alone in a small office hundreds of miles from my colleagues was just downright depressing.

And I still had to deal with the ex on a daily basis. Difficult is putting it mildly.

The July bombings happened. Luckily I was already in my pokey office when the bombs went off. I spent the rest of the day in the pub.

After one too many venomous, supposedly ‘work related’ telephone conversations with the ex, I quit my job for good.

Suddenly I was freelance. With no work.

Then I started crapping blood.

I don’t wish this to sound melodramatic. I’m not looking for sympathy.

And I’m certainly not trying to lay the blame for having UC on anyone.

But this is a blog about my life with ulcerative colitis. So I think it’s relevant to discuss what happened just before my first flare up.

Did losing my girlfriend, my flat and my job, not to mention boozing for Britain, play a part in me getting ulcerative colitis? Maybe, maybe not.

I don’t suppose it really matters one way or the other now. It’s all water, and a lot of blood, under the bridge.