Living with IBS, Talking About MAID, and Trying to Stay Hopeful

This isn’t easy to share, but I believe being honest about what I’m facing can help others understand they’re not alone.

Why I Haven’t Been Posting Daily

When I first started these updates, I thought I’d be able to post videos daily. That plan lasted about as long as it took me to realize how much energy even a five-minute video takes, especially with my symptoms. Recording turns into 30, sometimes 45 minutes. It's not just a drain—it triggers the very things I’m trying to cope with. I want to talk things out, but sometimes that backfires.

Coming to Terms with a Harsh Reality

Over the past several weeks, I’ve had some real “come to Jesus” moments—not in a religious way, but in the sense of being honest with myself. I’ve had to confront the limits of my body and what this condition, IBS, is doing to my daily life. It's unpredictable. There’s no planning ahead, no committing to a time, even just to meet someone at the door. That's not just frustrating. It's life-altering.

Why I’m Exploring MAID

I’ve had two conversations now with the MAID team in Alberta—Medical Assistance in Dying. These weren't spur-of-the-moment calls. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I wanted to clarify how the process works before making any decisions. It’s not something I take lightly, but I’ve reached a place of peace about considering it as an option.

The first call was mostly introductory, and the second was more informative. I was sent a form, not a commitment, just an expression of interest. From there, the process would involve two assessments by physicians not connected to my current doctor.

They’ll evaluate whether I qualify under the MAID criteria. If approved, the procedure could be scheduled, and I’d still have the right to back out at any point, even up until the moment before it’s set to happen.

The Current Medical Situation

As it stands, I still don’t have an official diagnosis for my IBS because doctors over the years haven’t taken it seriously. My current doctor is trying—she's sent off some referrals—but I won’t know more until May. And if I’m told the wait to see a specialist is still one or two years? That’s just not sustainable for me anymore.

What I need is a proper diagnosis, ideally from a gastroenterologist, so I can pursue things like IV nutrition or a colostomy bag, interventions that might improve my quality of life. But I can’t keep chasing solutions that are years away when I’m struggling to get through the day now.

That said, I was told today that the MAID program does NOT require a formal diagnosis, but it does help in their decision. As long as I can demonstrate I meet the criteria, they’ll consider me. A note from my doctor would suffice as well.

What Happens Next

In the coming weeks, I’ll be filling out the MAID application, scheduling the assessments, and continuing to see what options I might have from these new medical referrals. I’m not rushing anything. Even if everything gets approved, I’m aiming for something like September so I have time to prepare and get my affairs in order.

Part of that includes doing what I can to help my mom with tech guides and anything else that might reduce stress for her if it comes to that.

But I haven’t made a final decision. It depends a lot on whether treatment becomes available to me in a reasonable time frame, and whether it actually helps.

This Is Not About Giving Up

I want to be clear: I love life. I want to live. My mind is healthy, and I’d love to live for decades more, but only if I can do so with dignity, purpose, and without daily suffering. I’m in my forties, and my financial situation hasn’t improved since my twenties because this illness has made it impossible to work consistently or grow my business in any real way.

This isn’t about giving up. It’s about weighing options in the face of relentless, unmanaged suffering. And it’s about choosing what’s humane, not just for me, but for my family too.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening. If you’re dealing with something similar—or know someone who is—I hope you find some takeaway in what I’ve shared. Whether it’s about being heard, making peace with your reality, or simply gathering information, you’re not alone.

I’m not telling anyone what to do. I’m just sharing what I’m learning and how I’m navigating one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever faced. I’ll grab onto that with both hands if treatment can bring a meaningful improvement. If it can’t, I’ll move forward in a way that respects my life and limits.

Thanks for reading and watching.