Land of Osbourne

I’ve talked about Crohn’s disease here before, so this isn’t the beginning of the story. It’s more like a pause in the middle—one of those moments where you stop, look around, and take stock of where you actually are. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s in 2001, after a bout of food poisoning that flipped my body upside down and never quite put it back the same way. Over time, my large intestine became about 90% scar tissue. That’s not dramatic phrasing—it’s just the reality. Scar tissue doesn’t heal. It doesn’t reverse. It doesn’t care how well you behave. For a while, I was on Stelara, and it helped. Then life happened—insurance gaps, reality gaps—and I was off it for about a year and a half. When I finally had another colonoscopy, the news landed quietly but firmly: the Crohn’s had spread to my ileum. That moment held a lot. Fear. Grief. Anger. A strange sense of inevitability. Also—relief. Because now I knew. I’m back on Stelara now, every four weeks. And here’s the part that’s...

  A Land of Osbourne Tale of Chaos, Catitude, and Cranial Drama It was about two years ago, around 4 a.m.—that witching hour when the house is quiet, John is at work, and the universe decides now is the perfect time for nonsense. Marshall, my little Indiana Jones kitty, apparently woke up feeling bold. Heroic. Adventurous. Ready to conquer new lands. And by “new lands,” I mean the angel shelf above my bed. He went for the jump. He missed the jump. But he somehow, in true Marshall fashion, managed to grab two angel statues on his way down. One of them? Yeah. It clocked me in the head like a divine fastball. Did I wake up screaming? Did I leap out of bed in panic? Nope. I muttered something spiritually profound like “ow,” rolled over, and went right back to sleep. Sometime later, I woke up sweating. That weird, sticky feeling. I reached back to brush my hair out of my face… …and my entire hand came back covered in blood. Instantly wide awake. I looked over at my pillow. Also covered ...

  Public Announcement from the Land of Osbourne: Huge thanks to my dad for forcing me to get a job right after high school. Truly top-tier decision-making. Because without that shove, I never would’ve met John — aka the man my dad has disliked with Olympic consistency since day one. So really, this whole storyline is on him. Which is funny, considering we’re… you know… not exactly swapping holiday cards these days. And meanwhile? I’m deliriously happy with John. 😌