Fashion has always been a handy tool for me. I could use a pretty dress to feel put together with minimal effort, or I could don my favourite blue suit to exude confidence. A pair of well-fitted pair of jeans, a nice white T-shirt and pair of heels had the power to put a pep in my step. Clothes were my mask and my armour. And I loved the creativity and expression that came with it.

There was something that offset my jean joy, though. I’d been experiencing some strange symptoms; a sickening, churning feeling in my guts that rarely left me, bleeding, and fatigue. I put it down to something temporary, thinking maybe it was stress, and tried to make myself better with self-care.

A couple of months later, I realised that my jeans were a much looser fit. Great news, I thought. They were really comfy now. I thought I must have finally broken them in.

I became constantly worried and anxious. I didn’t really like leaving the house so there was no one to admire my lovely French jeans anyway. I started the FODMAP exclusion diet to work out whether I was intolerant to something and stopped enjoying my food.

Meals out felt quite scary and dangerous. The stuff I cooked at home was usually plain and boring. There were no more fun snacks. I also found that the jeans were a bit loose now. Annoying.

Eventually I visited the doctors because my symptoms had made life too difficult. It felt like I was only just keeping my head above the water. I was referred to the gastroenterology department and booked in for an endoscopy.

I had stopped wearing my French jeans. There was an annoying pain that wouldn’t go away below my tailbone, and jeans only rubbed it and made the feeling worse. But my endoscopy was coming up. I was confident they’d work out what was going on.

‘Well, I can tell you that you’ve got Crohn’s,’ the specialist told me immediately.

I thought, “right – well, at least I know what is wrong.”

I hadn’t quite expected a life-altering diagnosis, though. Two weeks later, the strange pain was diagnosed too. It was an abscess which later turned into a fistula. It was a tunnel between my guts and my skin.

What is a fistula?

1. A fistula is a narrow tunnel or passage way that links one organ to another.
   
   
2. Around 1 in 3 people with Crohn’s will likely develop a fistula at some time, it's less common if you have Colitis.
   
   
3. Anal fistula is the most common type of fistula. Symptoms include a tender swelling or lump in the area round the anus,  often followed by pain and irritation which gets worse when you sit down, move around, poo or cough.

My jeans stayed in my wardrobe. I tried them on once, frail and wincing, and realised I could hold the waistband out in front of me with a big gap between me and the jeans. I was all bone and sharp edges and brain fog.

A year later, I was feeling a little more normal.

I was put on azathioprine, and I’d been given a seton suture, which feels like a rubber band that loops through the fistula to stop it getting worse.

There were enough good days to make life feel sweet again. I took great joy in food again, after years of worrying what I ate would make me sick. I stopped feeling sore all the time.

What is a seton?

Loose setons are soft surgical threads. The surgeon passes these through the opening in the skin, along the track of the fistula and out through the anus. It’s then tied to form a loop. The ends hang out of your anus, allowing the pus or infected tissue to drain away.

I tried them on. They didn’t fit. They were far too tight. I realised they’d only fit in the first place because I was poorly.

I was gutted. I considered keeping them just in case they might fit again. But I didn’t want to hang onto lots of too-small clothes, especially when they reminded me of such a difficult time. So, I sold them online, hoping someone else would fall in love with them like I once did. They deserved to be worn and lived in.

For me, it was time for a new pair of jeans. But I found this really tricky.

It’s so easy to lose or gain weight with Crohn’s, depending on how my body is feeling. Flare-ups and stress can make my waistline shrink, and bloating can make my belly expand until only sweatpants suffice. Medicines can make my weight yo-yo up and down, too.

With all of this, I’d almost given up on jeans.

But then I picked an old pair from the back of my wardrobe. Light blue. Straight leg. Enough room in the waist for all but my most bloated days. Not too tight, so they wouldn’t aggravate my seton.

The problem was, I didn’t love them. They just felt a bit boring. I didn’t get any pleasure from wearing them. And honestly, when you have a chronic illness, you must absorb all the little joys you can.

So, I got a needle and thread out. I stitched sunflowers and lavender and wildflowers emerging from the left back pocket of my jeans. This spot is where my seton is, which felt very fitting. My least favourite pair of jeans, gathering cobwebs at the back of my wardrobe, are now my favourite pair of jeans.

I can’t guarantee my floral jeans will fit forever. No one can really predict or control how Crohn's disease will affect their body. But I know that if the jeans become too tight or loose one day, I won’t hold onto them forever.

I’ll make sure they find a new lease of life with someone who can enjoy them.