Editor's note: Doug Yakich had a colostomy two years ago after suffering from Crohn's disease since the age of 17. He is a patient advocate for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America, the Digestive Disease National Coalition and the United Ostomy Associations of America. He was recognized as the 2011 IBD Icon. Yakich's story first appeared on CNN iReport.
(CNN) -- In general, digestive diseases are hidden in the bathroom. You don't talk about anything that happens there unless it's with your spouse or a close friend.
Being ashamed and scared, you tend to pull back and hide. Nobody wants to stand out on a corner and say, "I've got an ostomy," myself included.
I have an ostomy -- just like more than 500,000 people in the United States, according to the United Ostomy Associations of America. An ostomy is a surgically created opening in the body that allows for the external elimination of body waste. They call mine a colostomy because it involves my colon. There are many types of ostomies, such as those involving the bladder or the ileum (the final part of the small intestine).
My path to this crossroads involved being diagnosed with Crohn's disease at the age of 17. The chronic disease left me doubled over in pain during flare-ups that sent me to the bathroom frequently for days. Some of the symptoms people experience are nausea, life-threatening bowel obstructions, incontinence, dehydration, intravenous feeding, fatigue and depression.
My illness was punctuated by multiple surgeries, hospitalizations and a body fighting to stay alive. I am thankful for the amazing doctors and nurses at UCLA who saved my life not once but twice.
Six years ago, my Crohn's had gotten so bad, I had a temporary ostomy where my colon was reattached several months later. I remember my emotional status after that: I didn't want to leave the house. If my bag filled up, I didn't want to use a public restroom to change it.
I found myself facing a permanent colostomy in 2010. I knew that I needed the procedure to save my life, but I was faced with the impending realization that my body and my life would change forever.
I would no longer be able to hit the beach and take my shirt off without people staring or getting grossed out. Nor would I be able to sleep with my shirt off, because it would mean one less layer of protection against a leak. I was afra