Some days I feel too young to have a bag—especially one I know I can't ever get rid of. I thought I could get a reversal, but innumerable polyps throughout my colon, rectum, and anal canal kept the doctors from doing it. Almost three weeks out of surgery and I feel okay most of the time. I still can't run and really shouldn't work, but I have to have some form of money. So in a week, I'm going back to one of my jobs in a small tea shop.
I wasn't supposed to be moving right after surgery, but the complex dragged their feet with my paperwork. I had to stay a week at my dad's house before moving in with my new roomie—who I creep out sometimes, so at least I can laugh at that. So in the same two weeks, I had major surgery and was moved from my dad's house—this is also the first time I've ever moved out—into an apartment in the projects. At least my roomie is okay with Steve's needs. Oh, right. I named my stoma. Helps keep the mood light when I have to deal with him... It... Something.
I guess the thing that bothers me is that this isn't the first major medical catastrophe in my life. My mother had Gardner's and got colon cancer when I was nine. She died a few weeks after my eleventh birthday. She also had a heart condition and polycystic kidneys. As it turns out, I have all three. Until I was seventeen, I only thought I had the heart condition. At school one morning, I went into supraventricular tachycardia and my brain went without oxygen for over six minutes. I woke up a week later in the hospital wondering what had happened. I fell out of the bed sometime during that week I can't remember and hit my head on the floor. The doctors took me in for a CT scan and saw the osteomas on my skull and jaw. A nurse recognized them as a symptom of Gardner's and I was tested. The test came back positive. On a hunch, my dad requested I get my kidneys looked at. They were covered in large cysts.
Gardner's is hereditary. My mother passed it down to me, and possibly my two siblings. In a way, I'm glad I have ovarian cysts, as well, since that lowers your ability to reproduce. Maybe, if they get bad enough, a doctor will give me a hysterectomy, too. I don't want my kids to go through what I have. I don't want kids. I know myself well enough that if they aren't of my own blood, I won't love them as deeply as if I carried them myself. I wouldn't care for them right.
.....Looking up at this choppily written post, I feel like it's more of a "Why me?" thing than I intended it to be. Oh well. I'll talk more later. Have a nice day.
Sven
You have been through a lot! I don't blame you for thinking you're too young for a bag—I'm 2.5 times older than you and feel the same way. I feel bad that you have Steve 8^), but your experiences have made you a stronger person, which comes out in your writing.
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First off, this is a pretty cool site with 37,000 members who truly understand you.
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Sven, please stay in touch with us. You have been through a lot in a short period, and I know there are lots of people here who can get you through the "Why Me" thing, but who will also expect some support from you because of all you have to deal with. Looking for more later. Be well.
PB
Learn ways to adjust to life after ostomy surgery.
Don't worry, this is good support. Everyone needs a place to vent. Some can go overboard with it and then lead themselves into deep depression, and then that's all they whine about. They don't realize that they are very depressed and it's harder to get out of it because they didn't talk to someone before to get a little support. Sometimes, a little friendly ear is all you need, and sometimes a good fishing trip away from the problem is so you can relax.
Gardner's Syndrome is bad news, but you can get through or around it. Do you have FAP as well? Polycystic is another nasty condition, but that again can be challenged with all the new tech stuff. I so feel for you, but you need to find something positive each day and write it down. You will be able to hang tough and make sure no matter what, you do one thing each day you like - even to look at the stars and name some constellations, have a meal with a friend, call someone and really chat up a storm, read a really interesting book, try a new game - whatever, but don't let the body rule you. YOU are bigger than it.
Living with Your Ostomy | Hollister
