Living with IBD: Tips for Work, Travel, and Daily Life

When I first got diagnosed, I genuinely wondered if my life was over. Not in a dramatic way—I just couldn't imagine how I was supposed to work, travel, date, see friends, do anything when I might need a bathroom at any moment. The uncertainty felt paralyzing.

Turns out, you figure it out. It takes time, and it's not always pretty, but you adapt. Here's what I've learned.

Work: The Bathroom Situation

Let's just address the elephant in the room: you're going to need to use the bathroom at work. Probably more than your coworkers. This feels like a much bigger deal than it actually is.

Should You Tell Your Boss?

Honestly? It depends. I've done it both ways:

• Telling them meant I could work from home on bad days without making excuses, and I didn't have to stress about frequent bathroom breaks being noticed
• Not telling them meant I didn't have to deal with awkward conversations or worry about being treated differently

There's no wrong answer. But if you're in the US, know that IBD is covered under the ADA, so you're entitled to reasonable accommodations if you need them.

Stuff That's Actually Helped Me

• I know where every bathroom in my building is. First thing I did.
• I keep a "just in case" bag in my desk drawer. Extra underwear, wipes, snacks I know are safe.
• Morning meetings are usually fine for me. Afternoons are dicier. I schedule accordingly when I can.
• Remote work has been a game-changer on bad days. If your job offers it, use it.

Travel: Yes, You Can Still Do It

I'll be honest—I was terrified to travel after my diagnosis. What if I had a flare on a plane? In a country where I don't speak the language? Miles from my doctor?

But I've done it. Not always gracefully, but I've done it. Here's what helps:

Before You Leave

• Talk to your GI. Tell them where you're going and for how long. Ask if there's anything you should know.
• Pack double the meds you need. Split them between carry-on and checked bag. I learned this the hard way when my luggage got lost.
• Get a doctor's letter. Especially for international travel. Explaining your medications at customs is way easier with documentation.
• Research hospitals. Hopefully you won't need one, but know where they are just in case.
• Travel insurance. Make sure it covers pre-existing conditions. Read the fine print.

During the Trip

• Aisle seat, always. Non-negotiable on planes. Being able to get up without climbing over people is worth any extra cost.
• Learn "where is the bathroom" in the local language. Seriously. Prioritize this over "hello" and "thank you."
• Be careful with food. I stick to cooked foods in places with questionable water. Boring, but better than a flare far from home.
• Keep essentials in your carry-on. Meds, wipes, change of clothes. Never check the stuff you actually need.

Social Life: Navigating the Awkward

Eating Out

Restaurant anxiety is real. But it gets easier:

• I look at menus online before I go so I'm not stressed about finding something safe
• Most places can do simple requests. Plain grilled chicken exists everywhere.
• Sometimes I eat a little something at home first, just so I'm not starving if the options suck
• I always, always note where the bathroom is when I walk in

When People Ask Questions

You don't owe anyone your medical history. Some scripts that work:

• "I've got a digestive thing" (covers bathroom trips)
• "I have food sensitivities" (covers picky eating)
• "I'm not feeling great, I should head out" (covers leaving early)

For close friends who deserve more, I just tell them. "I have Crohn's/colitis. It means [brief explanation]. Sometimes I need to bail or eat specific things. It's not personal." Most people are cooler about it than you'd expect.

Dating (The Question Everyone Has)

Look, this one's awkward no matter what. But some things I've learned:

• It doesn't need to come up on date one. Get to know each other first.
• When you do bring it up, be matter-of-fact. Not apologetic, not dramatic. Just: "I have this thing, here's what it means."
• Anyone who can't handle it isn't the right person anyway. Better to find out earlier.
• The right people don't care nearly as much as you think they will.

The Mental Health Part

Nobody talks about this enough: living with a chronic illness is hard on your brain. The anxiety about symptoms, the frustration, the feeling that your body betrayed you—it adds up.

• Therapy helps. Even just having someone to talk to who isn't sick of hearing about your health stuff.
• Online communities help. Reddit's r/CrohnsDisease made me feel less alone. So did the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation forums.
• Being honest with people close to you helps. You don't have to pretend you're fine when you're not.

The Go-Bag (Every IBD Person Needs One)

Keep a small bag with you or in your car at all times:

• Extra underwear
• Wipes (flushable and regular)
• Ziploc bag for emergencies
• Safe snacks
• Your emergency meds
• Hand sanitizer

I hope you never need it. But having it takes away so much anxiety.

It Gets Better

I'm not going to tell you IBD doesn't change things. It does. There are things I've had to give up or modify. There are days that just suck.

But I still travel. I still work. I still have a social life and relationships. I've just learned to plan differently, to be prepared, to be okay with saying "I need to leave" or "I can't eat that."

You'll get there too. It takes time, and you'll figure out what works for you specifically. Give yourself grace while you're learning.

This is from lived experience, not medical advice. Keep working with your doctor on the clinical stuff.