While the first half of 2013 was a glorious one, the second half was inglorious.  Beginning in July 2013 I began to feel toxic.  The bleeding returned along with increased trips to the toilet and increased pain and cramping.  This time, though, I did what my wife says is “a typical thing for a man to do”: I did not tell anyone.  I was in denial, and hoping (see: delusional) that the ship would right itself.  By November I was making up to 25 trips to the bathroom a day, was in pain and I became light-headed and tired rather easily.

Oh, I was also shitting black!  Yes, folks, I would stand up from the toilet, look into the bowl and there was black.  Needless to say, if this happens to you and you have the other symptoms I described above, go to your doctor immediately.

I told my doctor about my symptoms, and after he saw the pain he caused when pushing on my abdomen, he ordered me up a shiny, new hospital room.  I had gone anemic, was placed on heavy steroids, pain killers, IV fluids and antibiotics and went through dozens x-rays, scans, stool tests and blood tests.  I was in the hospital for exactly seven days.

The hospital visit got the inflammation under control; however, it took a lot out of me emotionally and physically.  I had lost muscle mass, my stamina and my stools were a light beige color for quite some time -toothpaste-like texture.  I lost about 27 pounds, and was quite weak.  This was extra disappointing to me, because I had spent the year hustling to tone up and build muscle mass.  I could feel how much muscle and energy I had been robbed of me.

I took my recovery into 2014 and by mid January was back to running, cycling, lifting weights and socializing easily with friends and family again.  Life was great, and I tackled new responsibilities and opportunities at work and school.  I felt like I was in my early twenties again, and realized the I-guess-this-is-what-getting-old-feels-like was a poor excuse, and a terrible lie I had created for myself.  I was one happy camper, and I was armed with a specific bit of knowledge – I knew how a 33 year old male was supposed to feel.  This was a major breakthrough!