The Dual Diagnosis Diaries: When Both Diseases Clock In

Some days I wonder if people truly understand what it means to live with two autoimmune diseases.

Not the diagnoses.

Not the medications.

Not the doctor’s appointments.

The reality of it.

Today was one of those days that reminded me exactly how unpredictable this life can be.

The day actually started off great.

I finished a blog post and scheduled it to publish. I attended landlord-tenant court and received a favorable judgment. I spoke with my best friend, which inspired another blog post. Before I knew it, I had completed multiple posts and felt productive, motivated, and accomplished.

It was shaping up to be a really good day.

Then reality showed up.

I stopped by one of my properties to check in with the Community Manager. When I arrived, I was a little short of breath, but that wasn’t unusual. It was nearly 100 degrees in Los Angeles, and thanks to Crohn’s Disease and Myasthenia Gravis, heat and I have a complicated relationship.

On a good day, it’s uncomfortable.

On a bad day, it can trigger symptoms that remind me very quickly who’s really in charge.

I convinced myself I would be fine.

After all, I was only stopping by for a few minutes.

As I walked into the office, it was cooler than outside but still warmer than I would have liked. While talking with the Community Manager, I felt the familiar spasms beginning in my throat.

At first, it was just a slight cough.

Then another.

Then another.

Inside my head, I started having the conversation many chronic illness warriors know all too well.

Push through.

You’re fine.

Just finish the conversation.

You’ll be out of here in a few minutes.

Unfortunately, my body had other plans.

The coughing became more aggressive. The Community Manager kindly offered me water, but I knew water wasn’t the problem.

I didn’t need water.

I needed my body to cool down.

I tried to continue the conversation, but every word triggered another coughing fit. The spasms intensified until my airway began to close.

Then it happened.

I peed on myself.

Myasthenia Gravis struck again.

Trying not to draw attention to what had happened, I excused myself and walked to the kitchen to grab a cold bottle of water. I placed it on the back of my neck, hoping to cool my body enough to stop the throat spasms and regain control of my breathing.

After a few minutes, the spasms eased.

I walked back into the office, finished the conversation, said my goodbyes, and headed to my next property.

As I sat in my car, I found myself grateful for one very random thing:

Faux leather seats.

Sometimes chronic illness teaches you to appreciate the strangest things.

I arrived at the next property frustrated, uncomfortable, and completely over the day.

Mind you, it wasn’t even noon yet.

Thankfully, the air conditioning was working perfectly there. I dropped off a check scanner, chatted briefly with the Community Manager, and got back in my car.

Then I texted my son.

I’m sure he’s tired of hearing about these incidents, but I tell him anyway.

Not because I want sympathy.

Because if things ever take a turn for the worse, I need someone who understands what is happening. Someone who can be my voice. Someone who can advocate for me if I can’t advocate for myself.

The rest of the afternoon was relatively uneventful.

I went home.

Cleaned up.

Changed clothes.

Attended two Teams meetings.

Eventually, I cooled down enough that I felt safe enough to leave the house again.

At nearly 3 p.m., I realized I hadn’t eaten all day, so I went to Jersey Mike’s and grabbed a cold sub.

I came home, ate lunch, responded to emails, finished editing blog posts, and scheduled them for publication.

Finally, I settled onto the couch to relax and watch some wonderfully ratchet television.

Don’t judge me.

We all have our guilty pleasures. 🤣

For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

I felt like I could rest.

Then something felt off.

Before I could even react—

Boom.

I pooped my pants.

Crohn’s Disease Had Officially Joined the Group Chat

And just like that, both diseases had made their presence known in the same day.

This is my reality.

Some days I only battle one disease.

Some days Crohn’s shows up alone.

Some days Myasthenia Gravis takes center stage.

And some days they decide to throw an unwelcome party together.

Those are the days no one sees.

The days that don’t make it into casual conversations.

The days that aren’t visible from the outside.

The days when I’m still showing up for work, still attending meetings, still answering emails, still trying to live a normal life while my body is actively rebelling against me.

I share these moments not because they’re glamorous.

They’re not.

I share them because they’re real.

Because somewhere, someone else is experiencing accidents, symptoms, embarrassment, fear, frustration, or exhaustion and thinking they’re alone.

You’re not.

Chronic illness isn’t always inspirational quotes and warrior slogans.

Sometimes it’s peeing your pants because your airway closed.

Sometimes it’s pooping your pants while sitting on your couch.

Sometimes it’s laughing because if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.

And sometimes it’s both.

For years, I convinced myself that strength meant pushing through.

Showing up no matter what.

Working no matter how I felt.

Smiling when I wanted to cry.

Pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.

But days like today remind me that strength isn’t pretending these things aren’t happening.

Strength is acknowledging them.

Strength is adapting.

Strength is carrying an extra change of clothes.

Strength is cooling down long enough to finish the workday.

Strength is texting my son because one day I may need him to advocate for me.

Strength is sharing the parts of chronic illness most people would rather keep hidden.

Because if we’re only willing to talk about the victories, we’re not telling the whole story.

Today was one of those days.

Tomorrow will hopefully be better.

But if it’s not, I’ll face it the same way I’ve faced every other difficult day:

One breath.

One step.

One battle at a time.

Until Next Time…

Be kind to yourself.

Give yourself grace.

And remember: your struggles may be invisible to the world, but they are real, they matter, and you are not alone.

Whether you’re navigating Crohn’s Disease, Myasthenia Gravis, another chronic illness, or a battle no one else can see, keep fighting.

Some days survival is the victory.

Some days simply getting out of bed is enough.

And some days, despite everything working against you, you still find a way to show up.

Those victories matter too.

— Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries

Two Diagnoses. One Journey. Zero Filters.

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✨ Living with one autoimmune disease is challenging. Living with two requires resilience. Welcome to The Dual Diagnosis Diaries, where no warrior walks alone.