I never thought I would face this problem. It was a tough journey to accept that this is my reality. Initially, I wondered if I was imagining the symptoms.

My struggle began in the late ’90s when a penicillin prescription triggered a severe allergic reaction, causing me to swell up like a pufferfish.

Soon after, I discovered an allergy to hard liquor, which terrified me when it made me resemble a boiled lobster. Constant bronchitis followed, culminating in hospitalization for walking pneumonia, during which I coughed so violently that I fractured my ribs, necessitating emergency medical attention and a two-week hospital stay.

Despite these alarming signs, I downplayed my autoimmune issue as other health concerns, like thyroid cancer, seemed more pressing. I tell you – you would not like it if you have some form of allergy. 

However, when recurring bronchitis prompted an allergy test that returned positive, I believed I had found the root cause and could now shield myself.

This belief proved naivety as I managed to keep my walking pneumonia at bay, but bronchitis continued to plague me, particularly during flu season or my visits to the Philippines.

The situation worsened when I began experiencing severe bloating and frequent bathroom trips, disrupting my work life and raising alarm bells. After extensive testing and a gastroenterologist’s internal examination, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a condition I never associated with my Asian heritage as it’s predominantly found in Caucasians.

Nonetheless, my American grandfather’s genes likely passed on to me. Thank you very much!

Unfortunately, my health woes didn’t stop there. Within five years, I was also diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, another grave condition influenced by my diet. Managing these diseases meant closely monitoring my symptoms, medications, and, most importantly, my food intake. Despite my love for food, I had to make significant dietary changes, cutting out many beloved dishes. I occasionally cheated, enduring the painful aftermath until I ultimately committed to a strict diet that didn’t irritate my digestive system.

My regimen primarily consisted of high-carb, low-fiber foods, as rice was permissible. I was grateful; thank you, mama mary.

Managing these diseases involves avoiding foods that can aggravate your digestive system, and it varies from person to person. It meant listening to my body and adapting my diet accordingly. While I yearned for a cure and the freedom to enjoy all foods, I learned to control my condition by observing my body’s limitations. This journey has been a struggle, but has taught me the importance of self-care and adaptation in the face of misfortune.

For me, it meant bidding farewell to many beloved foods, but the trade-off was a more controlled and less painful life.