How Allopathic Medicine Almost Killed me
Losing My Colon, Finding My Calling: A Crohn’s Survivor’s Story
Playing hockey was one of my favorite things as a kid. My first year of travel hockey, I was scoring two goals a game. I was basically the star of my peewee team.
Then Crohn’s disease struck while I was away at a hockey tournament…
At just 12 years old, already skinny as a rail, I lost 20 pounds, slept only 3 to 4 hours a night, threw up any food I ate, and had 20 bloody bowel movements a day.
What crushed me most was that I couldn’t even skate; I was simply too weak. That was the beginning of a very painful journey, one that left a mark on my soul.
Living With CD
I see a lot of blogs and Twitter posts about people with IBD who claim that cutting out sugar made their Crohn’s or UC disappear. That wasn’t me.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, made my Crohn’s better. By the time I was 13, I had tried every allopathic drug you can think of.
These weren’t mild meds. No, these were the ones you see on TV, listing all those wild side effects and how you could drop dead just taking them.
To top it off, I got a horrible case of C. diff, a deadly bacterial infection that lasted for years.
Daily life was terrible, not going to lie. The only relief from all the pain was when I was asleep.
I was taking the maximum allowed dose of painkillers per day, which wrecked my liver.
Going to the bathroom 10 to 20 times a day became normal. Throwing up became expected. It felt like I had swallowed razor blades for every meal.
I was bleeding every day and constantly anemic. I was extraordinarily weak and looked as if I hadn’t eaten in months, because honestly, I barely did.
If you’re not familiar with IBD, the worst cases are truly awful. Basically, your intestine attacks itself (I don’t know if I buy that theory), as if it were a virus or bacteria.
Your body tries to neutralize this “threat” and what results is an inflamed and bleeding digestive tract.
Think back to falling off your bike at age 10 and scraping your knees badly. Now imagine that same kind of mess happening inside your intestines, for years. I can’t explain just how severe the pain of a bad IBD flare really is.
You don’t live a normal life. Your whole day revolves around the bathroom and your bed. You can forget about hanging out or enjoying food, or doing anything normal.
The pain gets so bad your mental state starts to break down. All you think about is getting better.
It’s like a flesh eating bacteria took up residence in your gut, thats kinda how you can imagine Crohn’s.
When it wasn’t Crohn’s, I had blood clots that made normal life even harder. Walking made my left leg swell up like a balloon, and the needle marks from the twice-daily blood thinner shots covered my legs.
By the time I was 13, I was losing hair from the medication, and my face was swollen from all the steroids.
Kids in my school were brutal little a‑holes about that - shocker…
Life was honestly horrific. The only thing keeping me going was my faith and the idea of redemptive suffering.
Losing health means losing everything. You can’t understand this until you are desperate to survive.
You get tired of fighting, doing it all day, every day, and sooner or later you just burn out.
It’s like training for boxing: the first ten minutes are okay, but by the end, all you want is for it to be over; you’re ready to give up.
Pain and suffering teach lessons that nothing else can. Relating to people gets harder, because, as they say, the worst thing you’ve gone through is the worst thing you’ve gone through.
Final Straw
My second flare at around eighteen wasn’t much different from the first. Same pain level, lost 20 pounds, endless medications, you get the idea.
But this time really made me lose faith in allopathic medicine.
St. Augustine said, “It was pride that turned angels into demons.” Pride doesn’t belong anywhere in life, especially medicine.
Most practitioners haven’t suffered as their patients have. It’s rare to find a cancer doc who has had cancer, or a gastroenterologist with IBD.
At a fundamental level, they can’t truly relate. That isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just is what it is.
During the second flare, talk of cutting out my colon started. They never mentioned diet, sunlight, supplements, or environmental toxins; they never once covered possible causes.
Their hubris would not let them consider anything a ‘mere peasant’ without a medical degree might suggest.
When I was little, I loved McDonald’s. My mom asked if I could keep eating it, and the doctor said yes—twice! You can’t get much more basic than that.
A year later, I took matters into my own hands. I researched health, ate more meat, cut out seed oils, and saw a holistic doc. Still, I was on heavy duty medicine, running two immunosuppressants at once, dangerous stuff, but at least I was eating cleaner.
Eventually, I checked my progress with a colonoscopy because I wanted to see how things were moving.
How They Almost Killed Me
Neglect of basic health concepts had already done plenty of harm, but it was their carelessness that nearly killed me.
They let a student perform a colonoscopy despite knowing I had significant scar tissue within my colon. I wasn’t some case you just throw a student on and wish em luck.
I had years of serious scar tissue that had built up, and they knew this because it had caused trouble in prior colonoscopies!
Sure enough, she ripped a nice big hole in my colon.
That’s like letting a student mechanic work on a Ferrari. He can watch, but let him practice on a Honda Civic for goodness sake.
Colonoscopy wake ups are usually mellow thanks to the drugs; that was not my experience. I woke up screaming bloody murder.
Nobody had any idea what was wrong.
Why? Because the doctor couldn’t wait 15 minutes for me to wake naturally. She had other things to do, than to tend to someone who’s colon was just ruptured.
There’s no way to perforate someone’s colon without realizing it, like come on.
Between my dad and the nurses, no one could tell why I was screaming. After fifteen minutes, I was asked if I wanted to go to the hospital.
No chance, I hate hospitals after all the many bad experiences. So we went home.
Imagine getting stabbed in the stomach and deciding to just “sit this one out.” My pain tolerance is serious after years of this, but this time it was just stupid.
The car ride home was pretty bad, you can bet your ass I felt every single bump.
At home, I screamed in agony for three hours before finally throwing in the towel and heading to the hospital.
The Hospital
All my life, I tried to avoid losing my colon. I didn’t want to go through that. But that day, despite having actually been improving, it happened.
When the surgeons came in, I knew it was over.
“Yeah, there’s a massive hole in your colon. You’re lucky you came in today. We need to remove it because of your IBD.”
Uh what? I was shocked. I never expected to lose my colon that morning. How can you ever be ready for news like that?
A day later, I was alive—but without my colon. Had I stayed home that day, I probably would have been rushed to the hospital next morning with sepsis or internal bleeding, about to croak.
Waking up and seeing a stoma, my small intestine coming through my abdominal wall into a collection bag, was messed up.
The doctor even called while I sat in the ER before going to surgery, rest assured she got a mouthful.
Four years have passed, and it still feels unreal. Losing what I fought so hard to keep, only to get smacked in the face cause some negligent doctor.
The anger, despair, resentment—all hit me a week later. I felt so wronged, I was so, so angry.
Moral of the story
Do I wish I could have sued that doctor and her practice into oblivion? Absolutely. Do I think she should ever care for another patient? No chance.
Do I believe she deserves mercy? Yes.
As a Christian, I can put myself in her shoes and feel compassion for her choices.
Would you have acted differently? Would you have abandoned a patient out of fear? Maybe, maybe not.
But at the same time, there isn’t any place for this when people’s lives are at stake.
I am grateful despite all the suffering I have gone through. It truly has been the biggest blessing for my character development .
“We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope”
I feel I have a very unique view on health most people don’t, simply because I have lived experiences and fought for my life.
I have had other autoimmune conditions (severe skin issues) that have inflicted serious pain on my body and psyche.
I will admit it: I think most people in the health space have no skin in the game.
It’s ridden with greed, narcissism, and a lack of compassion.
While I am not free of these sins, I do have a genuine desire to help those who are suffering like I have.
This is why I started the blog and also why I will be starting my health coaching business soon.
I want to put into action all I have learned, or, as Dr. Pompa says, ‘What is your pain‑to‑purpose story?’
If you are interested in becoming a client, drop me a comment and we can connect
Even if you just need some advice!
Till next time,
Scott