A name for it.

I suppose that's what I wanted. To know a name. To put some kind of face to what had been happening (and is still happening) to me.

I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what to do to stop the pain and the sickness. Now I know they will be here with me forever, but at least I can take a medication.

My mother is devastated. It is not the worst disease in the world, but now it is too much for her. She would like me to go back to my land, to live close to my parents. I want her to understand that I need to live my own life. And I'll be ok, I'm sure of it.

A name for it. It was not a surprise, because I had been checking my symptoms on Internet and I knew it was very possible.

Now I know the name: Crohn.