When I was young, I was into several different activites. I participated in choirs and stage bands, musicals and plays, athletics of all kinds, singing competitions, summer camps, several different types of dance... Basically, you name it, I tried it!
There were two activities that were rated higher than the rest: singing and volleyball.
Volleyball became a big part of my life from waaaaaay back to grade seven. I remember tryouts, I remember some of the specific one-on-one coaching, I remember several practices and drills that we did. The next summer I joined a summer camp for volleyball, and I also joined the city volleyball league.
I was busy!
Once I got sick, I was in and out of hospitals and emergency rooms so much that I missed 219 classes in my grade 9 year. I had to cut down on the activities.
Piano and theory lessons went first. Dance had gone a few years prior when I got involved in city musicals when I was in elementary. Track was cut down to a select few events instead of eight. Cross-country went. After a few major bouts of Pancreatitis that left me hospitalized, basketball had to go too. (I had one last game where I had to be benched, but was put in the game for the last 30 second of the first half - enough time to swipe a rebound and score a nothin-but-net basket from the side of the key).
The one sport that I REFUSED to let up on is volleyball. I even got a day pass from the hospital to go to the Volleydome and watch my club team play once - with the IV still in my hand and everything.
After junior high, I was determined to continue playing in high school. Unfortunately, during the week of tryouts in grade ten, I ended up having (yet another) pancreatic attack and was hospitalized. That meant no volleyball my first year of high school. I was devastated. I still participated in club ball and at school I volunteered to be the score keeper for some of the games.
The next year, I was finally able to make it out to tryouts. I was a little out of shape, and I didn't receive the warmest welcome, but I was SO determined. I was focused. There was NO way I was missing a second year in a row.
When I was offered a spot on the senior team, I was elated!
Every single practice I would have to leave a few times to go and vomit in the changeroom. I would come out of my practice so exhausted and so red in the face that I looked feverish, but I loved every minute of it.
We went to several tournaments - I'd say one every couple of weeks - and after each tournament, I would end up in the hospital. Sometimes it would be a quick visit to the emergency room, but most of the time I would require hospitalization and another dose of steroids. (I've always been pretty stubborn).
Now you might be thinking - why was I ALLOWED to play? Why wasn't I removed from these activities?
First of all - there is no way in hell anyone was going to stop me.
Secondly - the activities themselves did not make my disease worse. This was all cleared by my doctors. The disease was just severe. I was going to be that sick whether I was at home curled up in a ball OR actually doing the things that I loved.
Thirdly - participating in activity was important to keep my strength (both physically and mentally), as well as offering some relief while I was ON the court because of the adrenaline.
That year, we got to fly out to Vancouver for an international invitational tournament. This was AMAZING!! This is when I fell in love with UBC campus. I was obviously unable to realize the dream of playing for UBC, but this experience was one-of-a-kind.
The entire team was to fly out together. Unfortunately, the day that they were flying out, I was scheduled for a scope. So, the day after another routine colonoscopy (which happened pretty much every few weeks at that time), I flew out to Vancouver on my own.
As most flight stories go, it was definitely an awkward one. I was seated in the middle of two businessmen in about their thirties. Both of them working on their laptops. I quickly explained to both of them that I had Ulcerative Colitis and that I would have to get up several times to use the washroom. I offered to switch seats with the man in the aisle seat, but he insisted on staying put. 5 times I had to ask him to move. As if it's not embarrassing enough to have to physically RUN to the washroom on a plane in front of everyone, be HEARD by everyone in the plane, but then I had to deal with the audible groans and exasperated annoyance from the guy in the aisle seat who had to move for me. He definitely didn't get much work done or any shuteye.
Then, of course, I managed to get myself lost in the airport trying to find my coach.
Figures.
Luckily I was able to fly back with everyone and got an aisle seat. No more angry looks.
That was one of the most amazing tournaments I have ever had the pleasure of participating in. I mean, I got to play in UBC!!
Later on in the season, our team was headed to Red Deer for another tournament. I was actually doing so poorly to begin with that I didn't even travel with the team. This wasn't exactly a bad thing - high school bullying is bad enough without having an embarrassing digestive disorder to poke fun at. I travelled and stayed in a hotel room with my parents (which brought on a different kind of bullying). No matter though, at least I had a washroom that I didn't have to share with the girls.
The first morning we had an early morning game and had to be at the gym by 7:30am. I went in the team van with the rest of the girls.
As with all vehicles I had to travel in at that time, it was fitted with an emptied-out 4L ice cream bucket, toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and extra underwear and clothing. Right when I got into the van, my coach asked if I was okay. I was. Or at least I thought I was. About ten minutes into the drive, the cramping starts.
Now, with urgency, once the cramping starts, the absolute MOST amount of time you have is about five minutes. Most of the time it was less than a minute before shit hit the fan (ha!). So, as inconspicuously as I could, I leaned over to my coach who was driving and said I needed a washroom, like, NOW! At 7am though, the only places that were open were gas stations. After pulling 4 traffic violations, he managed to get me to a gas station with a 711.
By this point in my journey with this disease, I had found out the hard way that you ALWAYS ask at the front if you need a key for the washroom. I can't tell you how many times I ran into a place of business, tried the bathroom door, only to find out that I needed a key. Those times usually resulted in accidents...
Anyways - so I run in (looking terrified and red-faced) and ask the cashier for the key to the washroom. He looked at me, stunned and equally terrified, and told me that the women's washroom was occupied.
My response - yelling: "THEN GIVE ME THE KEY FOR THE MEN'S!!"
He fumbled, handed it to me, I made it (barely), then strolled out, gave him a smile and said "thank you" as if nothing had happened. I got back in the van and headed to play some awesome volleyball.
Going home from that tournament, I rode halfway with the girls, but after stopping for dinner and having a bad reaction, I had to jump in my parents' vehicle. We had to turn right back around and head to the Children's Hospital, where I was hospitalized (again) for four days with severe Pancreatitis from the latest antibiotic that I ended up being allergic to.
Right before grade 12 is when I had my first abdominal surgery, which left me with an ileostomy bag my senior year, and prohibited me from playing volleyball. My dream of playing for UBC was over. After high school, I immediately joined a recreational volleyball league, and played rec ball in Lethbridge and then Calgary for another 9 years before having to quit for good.
It had always been a distraction, an adrenaline-induced anesthetic, an escape... And it didn't matter that I always needed to go to the hospital afterwards, if for nothing else than to get fluids. There was no way I was giving it up until it was an absolute necessity and became an activity that could progress a disease further.
I was sick.
I was the same amount of sick when I sat at home doing nothing as when I was out doing something that I loved. So I wasn't going to sit around and do nothing if it didn't help me.
😊