Tarab by Carl Cleves

Author:Carl Cleves
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781921924637
Publisher: Transit Lounge

8

Crohn’s Disease

The Oxford Textbook of Medicine (Vol. 2, 3rd edition, Oxford University Press, 1996) defines Crohn’s disease as ‘a chronic inflammatory disease of the gastrointestinal tract, the cause of which remains unknown’. Symptoms are abdominal pain, cramping, fever, nausea, diarrhoea, weight loss, anaemia, weakness, fatigue, deficiencies of vitamin B12 and iron. Bleeding may occur and although usually mild, may be massive. Surgery may be necessary to correct bowel perforation, massive haemorrhage or acute intestinal obstruction. ‘The majority of patients (70 to 80 per cent) will require at least one operation during the course of their disease. The overall mortality of Crohn’s disease varies from 10 to 15 per cent in different studies. Physical rest and a relaxed lifestyle are recommended.’

On the Road with Crohn

I developed Crohn’s disease at seventeen. Since there was no known cure for the disease I was advised to follow a strict diet, avoid mental stress and physical strain and lead a quiet and restful life. No sport nor stressful studies, admonished Professor Vantrappen of the University of Leuven in Belgium. My mother burst into tears at the news. But telling this to a teenager was like counselling a lion to become a vegetarian. I could not face the prospect of spending my life watching the world pass me by from behind a curtained window. I had to taste life, not from a spoon like some bitter medicine, but guzzling it down straight from the bottle. I finished my studies and went travelling.

As I travelled for many years, traversing Africa, the Middle East, the Indian subcontinent, South East Asia, Australia, and South America, Crohn’s disease never left my (in)side. Many eager doctors had as many opinions as to the cause and cure of my sickness. I was advised to shun raw vegetables and fruit, to eat more raw vegetables and fruit, to cut milk products from my diet, to cut out fibre or sugar, avoid wheat, avoid meat. Blame was laid on allergies, my immune system and my ancestors. I was hospitalised regularly and tried a variety of treatments.

A crisis of delirious fever and cramps assailed me while hitching a ride with a petrol lorry on the 3000 kilometre long dirt road linking Lusaka with the port of Dar Es Salaam. This ill-reputed road, hurriedly built during the Rhodesian war to provide Zambia with fuel, was named ‘the hell-run’: a mud bath during the rainy season, the road was a graveyard of trucks. Once a truck got stuck it was left behind. Yugoslav drivers made big money killing themselves with amphetamine-driven schedules. I got a two day ride with one of them and relieved my intestinal agony by banging my head into a stupor against the wooden bunk behind the driver’s seat each time the lorry hit a pothole. Primitive remedy indeed.

In Egypt I waited all afternoon in anguish in an endless queue at a hospital to receive an aspirin.

After surviving on bananas for a week in Northern Malawi I met some friendly peace corps members who offered me a bed and … a large bowl of spaghetti.

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