‘Twas The Night Before a Crohn’s Christmas…

After meandering the Twitterverse and severely procrastinating on a massive pile of readings, I came across @CrohnsGuy. I checked out his blog (Crohn’s Disease – Leaving the Seat Down) – and found this hilarious poem about Crohn’s. I know it’s a bit early for Christmas, but it’ll definitely get all of us in the spirit. Enjoy!
– Julie Harmgardt (Founder, InvisAbilities)

 
 
‘Twas The Night Before a Crohn’s Christmas…

I wanted to share this with everyone. Don’t know who wrote it, but I give them two thumbs up. And there is a language warning before you read……but enjoy!

‘Twas the night before Christmas and everyone waited with glee
Except for the one in the bathroom-I have CD.
The Charmin was hung by the toilet with care
In hopes that I’d reach it before ruining more underwear.
I started at night when I was snug in my bed,
Those rumblings I heard were not in my head.
I’d been looking forward to a long, restful nap
But had to get up for a much needed crap
 
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I exited the crapper to see what was the matter!
I opened my door, and it hit like a flash…
This god-awful stench-I fell on my ass.
I opened my window and threw up in the snow
It covered the nativity scene down below.
And what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh with some tiny reindeer.
A decrepit old driver, not lively or quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
 
Slowly-with effort, those reindeer, they came
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now, Crohn’s! Now, Colitis! Now J-Pouch and Ostomy!
On, Hemorrhoid! On, Fissure! On, Stool O Bloody!
To the top of the house, to the top of the wall!
Now dash, little bastards, and don’t let me fall!”
And then, in an instant, I heard on the roof
The scratching and farting of that big, ol’ dumb goof.
 
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his toe,
And he smelled like hell…he really had to go.
A bundle of toys he had flung on my couch.
He winked at me and said, “Wanna see my J-Pouch?”
His eyes-how they twinkled as he let out a fart.
It smelled worse than mine-nearly stopped my dear heart!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
If not for the beard, it’d resemble an @#%$!
 
The bags under his eyes-I saw the fatigue
That comes from living with Crohn’s or UC.
Plus a bad case of D had filled his round belly,
And shook when he farted-it was oh, so smelly.
He was chubby and plump; he screamed at his elf.
I laughed when I saw this, in spite of myself.
The moon face, the mood swings-the twitch of his head,
I knew right away…side effects of the Pred.
 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to the bathroom
And filled my toilet with a *splat* and a VVVAROOOMMMMM!
Using his finger to close up his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh; he weighed ten pounds less.
And thanking me for the Charmin, he apologized for the mess.
As I heard him cry out, I realized he knew of our plight:
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS!
“I’VE IBD TOO, AND I’M HAVING ONE HELL OF A NIGHT!”

Advertisements