as soon as I started talking to friends about how I wanted to do a fecal transplant, people started to volunteer, and within a week I had two potential donors who each met the criteria for good poops. In a few days I was leaving Tucson to spend the summer on the west coast, and one of my potential friend donors was going to be in Petaluma, California, staying at her parents’ place. It would make total sense to pass through on my way to Oregon and we could do the transplant there, she said.
I basically followed the DIY instructions on the Power of Poop website to the letter (lower-route only)
“I feel happy for no reason, I feel happy for no reason,” I kept repeating.
Waking up not just rested, but happy?
The morning doomcloud of dread which had informed so much of my life was, inexplicably, gone.
This. Was fucking. Insane.
“I’m cured!” I said to my friend. “I’m cured I’m cured I’m cured I’m cured!!” This was, I knew, preemptive, but I didn’t care.
My mood swings were gone.
The day after my first fecal transplant, I did another. My goal was (is) to do ten transplants total, as that is a number that other IBS sufferers, whose accounts I’ve read online, have had success with.
Here’s a graph I made of my mood changes with FMT
Update 8/16/17- It’s been 2 months and 9 days since my first FMT. I’m still cured of my IBS and chronic fatigue.
Update 12/14/18- Still cured, 1.5 years after my first transplant. My health, in particular my mental health and gut health, keep getting better and better. I can’t remember when my last FMT was. FMT rules!
If there are no more updates, I’m still cured!
