Bill,
Your posts are always so elegant and always a pleasure to read. Well said, sir.
Chronicbutterfly13,
There isn't much for anyone to say to you that you haven't already heard. And each ostomate is unique when it comes to facing our little pouch demons. It's literally a shitty or pissy hand we've all been dealt. I'm going to sound like a broken record here to anyone who has already read my posts, so forgive me in advance.
I'm going on 22 years with an ileostomy now, and I will say that the worst part about the experience was the stay in the hospital after surgery. I was there for 2 weeks, was discharged for 3 days, and had to go back because of an abscess for an additional 2 weeks. It was like prison. But once I was out of the hospital, my outlook was much better as I was no longer rushing to the bathroom, no longer taking an assortment of drugs, and I was pain-free.
The first couple of years were my learning years. My ET nurse had shown me the ropes, and I was off on my own with my new ileostomy friend. I carried around an assortment of wipes, extra precut pouches, a douche bottle to rinse out my pouch, etc...etc... After a month or two, I learned that I didn't need to carry around all that shit with me all the time. I didn't need to rinse out my pouch every time I emptied it. Slowly but surely, I started to feel more and more normal.
The first monumental pouch failure I had was having it on for more than 5 days when it was only meant to be on for 3 and binging on pizza and beer. I woke up to a blowout on the right side of the pouch and a mound of shit right next to me. My girlfriend at the time was more than understanding. She walked me to the bathroom as I sobbed, cursing the universe that I wasn't in control of my body anymore. I stood in the shower for about 10 minutes crying, thinking that my ostomy was the worst thing that ever happened to me, that at 23 my life was over as I previously knew it. I wasn't thinking about how getting the surgery saved my life, I was just thinking this thing on me is a curse, that I felt ugly and no one, not even my girlfriend at the time, will want to touch me ever again, that the blowouts will happen again and again...
It took me a while to get over that. I think it really turned around one day when my roommates were both sick with a stomach virus. We had 2 bathrooms at the time and neither of them could stay off the toilet for more than 5 minutes. I was sitting at my computer and one of them came out of the bathroom and looked at me and said, "Man, I'm kinda jealous that you have a bag and don't have to deal with this shit." I sat there for a second, I smiled and said, "Yeah, it is kind of a blessing, huh?" Promptly after that, he went right back to the bathroom. I kept thinking in my head, "I got no strings to hold me down." Don't ask me why, but that's what popped into my head. Nevermind the fact that I was watching Pinocchio...lol
Now, as I was saying, every ostomate is unique. Some of us are extremely lucky and active and take life on by the horns. Others are debilitated and can no longer work. But even people who don't have an ostomy have the same struggle. I'm sorry if I sound like I'm preaching. I agree with Caligirl and try to find the humor in the situation. We can dwell on it and make ourselves miserable, or we can look forward and try to make the best of it. I keep thinking there are so many more people in this world that are WAY worse off than I am. If my choice is to laugh or cry, I choose to laugh.
Sorry for the long post. I honestly could go on and on. Just remember, we are all here for you, we've been through the ringer just like you.
This too shall pass. When things are bad, remember, it won't always be this way. Take one day at a time.
When things are good, remember, it won't always be this way. Enjoy every great moment.
Bain