Editor’s Note from Thomas Exler:  I first met Megg Rose in 1996 in Boulder, Colorado while attending a medical based camp program, and over the years we have continued to stay in touch, and no matter if she was shooting a TV Movie or competing in pageants, or raising her family.  If you wanted to know more about Megg Rose please go to her website www.meggrose.com  Part 1 of 3.

“Pain Free & Blood Free”

By Megg Rose

Hi my name is Megg Rose and I am deaf, a Christian, a mother, a wife, a licensed aesthetician, a make-up artist, a actress, a director, a model, and I have rheumatoid arthritis and an illeostomy.

Yup that’s right I have an amazing best friend name, “Illeo-BESTstomy”. The correct spelling is illeostomy, as you can see I’ve added BEST because it truly saved my life in 1995. I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis for 3 years at 12 years ago. I remember looking back; I was on the toilet & got so terrified by blood from my anus. I didn’t understand it and I screamed for my wonderful loving step father Lance Turner to come check on what the heck was in the toilet?! He said “Oh my goodness, we have to get you to the doctors ASAP.” I remember walking to my room and blacking out.

I was sent to see Portland Children’s Hospital to see Dr. Marshall who had helped me throughout 3 years to find a solution for my horrible painful disease. After multiple treatments from steroids, enemas and prednisone etc had failed & caused my condition to worsen. I remember going to school so embarrassed that I did not want anyone to know what I was going through. I couldn’t control my passing out and bloody stools. Then suddenly an odd rumor went around the school assuming I was bulimic because they see me run out of the classroom so quickly without having one minute to ask the teacher “May i go to the restroom?” My weight loss was so drastic that I can understand why the rumor

started in the first place and you know what? I rather them assuming I was bulimic than telling them a bunch of14 year olds that I have an anus problem. I was terrified what they would have thought of me so I was happy with where the rumor was.

Finally one day at 15 years old, my 3 year old little sister Alivia had found me on the floor passed out after my shower.

She tried to wake me up then she screamed “mommy! Help, Help! Meagan is not waking up!!. Did she die on me?” My family calls me Meagan but I’ve changed it to Megg because I was tired of the teachers calling me “Deaf Meagan” during name roll call. Back to the story, Alivia had to run downstairs to wake our drunken mother who works all night & sleeps all day during the day in all of our childhood years. After a good 20 minutes, finally she woke up & my little sister had to tell her to call 911.

I was hospitalized for 6 long months and stayed throughout Christmas and New Years. The nurses were my parents while my mother would never show up unless she was to meet a friend, she would say “Look at my amazing daughter who is a fighter like me, listen honey I love you and you know

mama gotta work.” She left without a kiss or a hug. I’ll never forget the look on the nurses’ face; she was furious and rolled her eyes. She gently grasps my arm to tell me that everything will be ok.  She filled in my mother’s shoes, when she would not.

I remember tearing up telling myself what will it take for my mother to stay next to me and tell me that everything will be OK?  Yah you bet I’m fighting to get my mother’s attention, and careless to live any longer, because it sucked NOT being loved. I was tired of seeing my friends complain about their parents being over strict or how they wish they had my mother. I would kill to be in their shoes but never wish on anyone to have a mother like I had. I was deprived of love. I asked God, why it is OK that I have to care for 5 beautiful sisters who needed their mom, more than their big sister, to tucking them in at night?  So many sleepless nights wondering if my mom will come home safely because she’s a drug addict, stripper and an alcoholic. I had to grow up with this all my life and the doctors believed that she was the reason that I have ulcerative colitis because due to statistics say the flare-ups of ulcerative colitis is due to unhealthy stress.  Up to this day I won’t place the blame on my mother because I know she was a hurting child too. I love my mom and I’ve forgiven her so I can be free from anger and depression.  She is my first love.  She’s been through a lot from her childhood and teen years.  She is a survivor like me and she was also a hurting child too.   I know this will be hard for her to read but this is my story through the eyes of her first born child.

I have a wonderful loving protective overbearing grandmother name Rosalie who would call the hospital 20 times a day everyday which annoyed the nurses greatly. They gave me a dolphin water gun to squirt at my grandmother if she won’t stop nagging 🙂 I know she loves me and her intentions are always good but sometimes she just has to know where the line is drawn! From the hospital, she lived two hours away in Keizer, Oregon and she could not see well at night so she was afraid to drive in Oregon’s weather.  It was also snowing which prevented her to even try to visit. BUT, she would not give up the phone calls.

The news broke from Dr Marshall that I have 2 choices to decide my fate.  1. To pull out my small intestine to create a stoma, so I can get a bag that will be placed outside your lower abdominal so I can go #2 in with closed anus or 2. Bleed to death, at the age of 15 with no one besides me to help me decide what I need to do. I looked up and said “God, it’s just me and you. I need you. I don’t know what to do, what do you want me to do? Please give me a sign so I can decide. Amen”

End Part 1 – In Part 2 of 3 – The Morning When I Decided on Surgery

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