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First Post: Keep It Real

So why write a blog? Aren't there enough bloggers out there? Well, yes and no. I've found that most, if not all, of the bloggers I follow can seem too perfect after a while. Not real. Not like me. I like what they're all saying, and the recipes look great, but they end up losing me because I can't relate to them as a person.

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The path to a ruptured intestine : 1 of 2

So, this is not a cheery post. But it's time to tell my story. I think 16 years is enough distance from the actual event to be able to tell it without tears pouring down my face. I'd like to think that if someone has gone through, or is indeed going through something similar to my experience, they will feel hope, support, understood...whatever they need. As I've mentioned previously, I used to eat a lot of sugar, bread, and chemical-laden foods.  Hey, I like cake. My early 20's was filled with moving out of home, my first corporate job out of uni, partying, meeting lots of people, depression, travelling overseas, partying, finding out my boyfriend of five years had been...

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The gory details, the morning after : 2 of 2

Mum tells me that the very first thing I said when I awoke from surgery was, "What have they done to me?" Here is a brief description of what 'they' did: Cut me from just below my sternum to the top of my pubic bone, taking care to cut around my belly button rather than straight through it. Removed the diseased (ruptured) section of my intestines which included the end of my small intestine, the terminal ileum, and the end of my large intestine; approx 30cm of bowel in total. Spent three hours cleaning out my abdomen caused by severe peritonitis (all the shit that had come out of my ruptured intestines was swimming around my body; this can be...

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