Future Tense: I’m Still Young But Worry About Aging with Crohn’s

It’s natural to fear the unknown. But it’s not helpful. So, I do the best I can with things that are in my control.

Ah, to be thirty, flirty, and thriving …

That’ll be me in a few months once I hit the big 3-0 milestone in mid-February.

I’m feeling conflicted about it. In some ways, I’m stressed about leaving my 20s. My life is nowhere near where I thought (or hoped) it would be. I sometimes wonder if Little Me could see me now, what would she think? Would she be proud?

Another part of me is eager to leave my 20s behind me and excited to see what opportunities a new decade brings. I want to make Little Me proud, and I know that I can.

The older I get, the more I have developed an appreciation for aging. It’s a gift and a privilege. We’re conditioned to complain about it. I often hear friends and colleagues groan about “getting old” when their birthdays approach. Some choose not to celebrate or draw attention to them. I’m not sure I understand why. Why are we embarrassed to be living longer? Whenever people grumble about it, I always reframe their grievances, even if it’s only in my mind: “It’s a beautiful thing to be here for another year.”

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What lies ahead

Even with that perspective, I do think about aging and wonder what my body will grapple with in the next (if I’m lucky) 60 years. I fear that my body or brain will succumb to devastating diagnoses, such as ALS or Alzheimer’s, and I worry about how I might handle these. I’m scared that I will develop other autoimmune diseases. These aren’t unrealistic fears. My chronic illness goes hand-in-hand with aging.

I will, for the rest of my life, have a health complication — and will be at higher risk for other health conditions. IBD inherently weakens my immune system. I am statistically more likely to develop colon cancer in my lifetime. A side effect of my medication, which I have been taking for 15 years, is lymphoma. Older people with Crohn’s have an increased risk of osteoporosis. And Crohn’s tends to change naturally over time, so I’ll have to be on high alert constantly for changing symptoms. All great things to look forward to …

When health takes center stage

Of course, I want to live a long, healthy life, so I prioritize my medical needs. But I often cannot make a decision without thinking about how it will affect my body. I need a job with health insurance — and preferably a really good plan — and cannot simply choose to work just anywhere without weighing the financial risks.

Then, I must schedule my work and travel around my every-other-month doctor’s appointments. I religiously check whether supplements or medications will affect my Crohn’s or interact poorly with my IBD medication.

I’m constantly managing my stress levels. I try not to eat foods that will upset my stomach. I plan my day so that I will be near a bathroom when I need it. And so on.

Of course, I speak from a place of privilege. My Crohn’s, for better or worse, is well-managed. I’m lucky in that I’m able to live a “normal” life with restrictions I can work around (even if they’re inconvenient). My Crohn’s is not always debilitating, but there is always a looming cloud following me, a reminder that it could be if my body decided it.

A cascade of questions

I’m sometimes plagued by questions of what to do with my health. I mean, do I need to file for a power of attorney in case some catastrophic flare occurs? What does that document even do, exactly? Should I make a will? Or is that a bit much? I mean, I am only 30.

Is it better to be prepared or to live spontaneously?

Does Crohn’s affect menopause? Why am I even thinking of that?! I’m only 30!

Oh my God, if I end up in a retirement home, where will they administer my intravenous medication? Will I still be on that drug in 60 years? What if it gives me cancer? Will they have found a cure for Crohn’s by then?

It can be overwhelming. All of it. It’s scary and concerning, and there’s no right or wrong way to go about it.

Doing what I can

It’s good to be prepared, and, in some ways, I am. I prepare myself with questions when I talk to my doctor about my medications and Crohn’s. I book colonoscopies every 2 years, so I’m up to date on my screenings. I mentally log any health issues I have and file them away to discuss with a professional at an appointment.

I like to think that as I age and hopefully continue to maintain a good connection with my body, I will be mindful of any health changes and ask the right questions to the right professionals.

Could I be more prepared when it comes to aging with Crohn’s? Sure. I don’t have a power of attorney, a drafted will, or an understanding of how (or if) my Crohn’s will affect menopause. But I do what I can.

I exercise, I eat well, I drink water, I take my medication, I socialize, I take care of my mental health, I write, I read, I take time for myself, I cry, I laugh. I’m doing all that I can to care for my health and for Future Me.

Much of it is out of our hands, and it can be paralyzing when our imaginations run away with the horrors of how our health might betray us down the line.

All we can do is all we can do. So, I suppose all I can do is take my own advice and reframe it for myself. It’s a beautiful day to be here for another year — or even another day, another hour, another minute.