Ostomy Memories of Appliance Changeover

PERHAPS I HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH CATS too long. It dawned on me, as I watched one of my cats perform her post-meal bathing ritual, that my changing procedure follows much the same sort of ritualistic process. It has become so habitual, after years of repetition, as to be much akin to muscle memory, a thoughtless performance of one step after another, do this, then that, wash here, dry there, wipe, wash, swab, etc. I have achieved maximum efficiency within the muscle and memory systems as a result of performing the same changing procedure every fourth day for years. I can remember when I first started dealing with the ostomy, in 1964, I was so blown away and intimidated by it, my fear of doing something wrong, the unnaturalness of the whole thing, that it would take me an hour and a half shut up in the bathroom to accomplish a change, after which I would be exhausted. Now it’s a few minutes to lay out what I need, followed by a few minutes to change, and I’m good to go for another three days. Hell, it would take me longer to shave, except I’ve come to like my beard. “It makes you look old,” someone said. “I am old,” I replied. But resisting decrepitude.

It was hard for me to look at my stoma in the beginning. I thought I would just have a hole in my tummy, not my guts attached to the outside of my tummy. Changing the bag, oh boy, it was like I was doing major surgery, but there is far more support and much better equipment these days.

I remember those days!

The way I was taught to change my appliance was ritualistic and time-consuming. I'm sure the nurses had good intentions and wanted to teach me good habits and hygiene. Much of the time was spent explaining.

Anyway, like you, over time I was able to come up with a much more efficient way of doing it. I'm done in five minutes now!

E&i