I loathe seeing the dentist, but who doesn’t? It was November 2023, and I had a cavity, so I went for what I thought would be a routine filling. That wasn’t the case – I needed a tooth pulled out. But I didn’t expect to end up with C. diff, a highly contagious bacterial infection, which causes diarrhea and colitis. Three days after having my tooth out, I was in agony, so I went back to the dentist, where it turned out I had an abscess. My dentist put me on antibiotics, and my nightmare truly began.
At 54 years old, that decision would change my life drastically. Shortly afterwards, I began to feel unwell: lethargic, nauseated, and my stomach hurt. In the days that followed, I was going to the bathroom 15 to 20 times a day – everything I ate just went through me. Then I started bleeding whenever I went to the loo. I brought spare clothes with me everywhere I went, and even had to use a pillow to sit on as I was in such pain. Outside of work, I was a prisoner in my home. On the weekends, one of my passions is riding my horse, Cinnamon; she is stabled about 20 minutes from me, so not far. Yet I was at a point where I couldn’t make the drive to get to her, and even if I could, I didn’t have the energy to ride her – it was physically impossible. I was a complete mess; devastated and becoming increasingly depressed. The things that I loved doing were fading to a distant memory.
I finally went to the doctor in January. They took blood samples and tested my faeces – my poo. They came back showing a positive result – for what, I didn’t ask. I was so sick, I didn’t care. I took the prescription and went straight to the chemist. After a month on more antibiotics, I still had the same symptoms. I could barely walk across the street; I was sleeping every second I could and I lived in the bathroom. That April, I went back to the doctor. I did another faecal test, which was positive again, and this time I asked what I was positive for. My doctor replied ‘C. diff’. I had to Google it: Clostridium difficile, or C. diff, is a type of bacteria that exists in the bowel and is usually totally harmless. However, antibiotics can cause the balance of the bowel bacteria to fluctuate, and it’s this change that causes an infection.
Symptoms of C. diff can range from diarrhea to life-threatening damage to the colon via a condition called colitis, where the colon swells and becomes inflamed. If this gets bad enough, the intestines can rupture. The doctor said he didn’t know why I’d become so sick. I asked for the written results – and then he gave me more antibiotics. I didn’t hesitate about taking them; I was desperate to get better, and if that meant more medication, so be it. But I did buy courses of probiotic treatment from people online who said they had recovered from C. diff. A customer of mine gave me the name of a scientist in the US who claimed this particular combination of probiotics had cured them after having C. diff for years. It cost me almost 500 Australian dollars – and it didn’t work. I was going back to the doctors every month, literally crying as I asked, ‘What are you going to do with me?’
On my third round of tests, my doctor suggested I go to a gastroenterologist. He didn’t seem overly concerned, so I demanded to see a bowel surgeon. When I did, he called Infection and Disease Control while I was still in his office. I could hear the I&D doctor on the other end of the line; he put my surgeon on hold to consult with colleagues and eventually came back on the phone to say they all agreed: I needed a faecal transplant. Without it, I could lose my bowel or die. As soon as I heard the words ‘faecal transplant’, I thought ‘he’s off his rocker’. I shook my head. I had never heard of it before, and it sounded disgusting. So, no, there was no way in hell I’d be having that done.
It was my gastroenterologist who explained to me what the procedure really involved. Faecal transplantation is a procedure in which healthy faeces is collected from a donor and introduced into a C. diff patient’s gastrointestinal tract, in order to give them healthy bacteria. I read everything I could about faecal transplants: where the donors come from, how they donate – even what the lab looked like. I looked up the percentage of donors that make it through to the final stages and how long a transplant takes. I found out it had a 98% likelihood of working when combined with further antibiotics. And yes, I watched an operation on YouTube to know what I could expect; I learned that faecal matter is transported frozen at minus 30C and then thawed, after which it’s mixed with solution and put through a tube into the patient’s intestinal tract. Even as I went into the theatre that month, I was scared. Having someone else’s faecal matter put inside you? It’s mind-boggling.
I was put to sleep, and the surgery lasted about 45 minutes, and I had to stay lying down for at least an hour afterwards to keep everything inside. It took a few days, but I first noticed the improvement when some light cramps subsided quickly. I could eat again – I had a birthday meal four days after the transplant, and that’s when I really noticed the change, as the food actually stayed inside me, and I wasn’t off to the bathroom 20 times. My energy levels surged, too – I could stay awake for more than a couple of hours – and I could ride Cinnamon and go out with my friends without worrying about a bathroom being nearby. I didn’t need to take spare clothes with me everywhere I went, or to sit on a pillow. I felt like a new person, and literally wanted to shout it out to the world.
I also felt fortunate that the transplant was a success for me; if it didn’t work, the doctors would have had to do it all over again. There is always a chance that C. diff can reoccur, so I am very fearful of infection and becoming ill, but the longer I can go without antibiotics, the lower my risk of getting it again. I want people to know that faecal transplants work, they are beneficial, they save lives, and it’s normal to be afraid. I tell people all the time I have had a faecal transplant. The reactions are diverse: I have friends that are nurses who understand and think it’s amazing; some give you that look of disgust, and for some it’s more surprise.
The truth of the matter is people need to be educated about faecal transplants because unfortunately, more and more people are getting C. diff. It is very contagious, but no one knows quite why more of us are getting it. We need to take precautions on how many antibiotics we are putting in our bodies. We need to wash our hands. We need to make sure surfaces are kept clean. Someone reading this might need a faecal transplant at some stage in their life, so gaining knowledge is paramount in my opinion.
You never realise how sick you are until you’re healthy again. You should never take your gut health for granted. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. Share your views in the comments below.
