In 2002, when few in China understood what Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) was, my doctor told me it was colon cancer. I underwent several small intestine resections, ultimately becoming a short bowel patient. Throughout my journey, I lost many friends to this disease and feared I would be next. I waited patiently for the first doctor to investigate IBD, hoping for the arrival of monoclonal antibodies, believing that perhaps a panacea was just around the corner.
To survive, I needed to earn a living, but many of us face rejection in the workforce. With a lifelong illness to manage, who will cover the costs? I find myself signing disclaimer agreements before employment, limited to freelance work. The uncertainty weighs heavily on me; I never know when an acute phase might strike. Meanwhile, my friends in rural areas have had to stop their medication due to financial constraints, and I fear I may face the same fate.