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Life takes guts. Mine took a lot - my gallbladder, small intestine, and colon to be exact. And now, after five months in the hospital, a piece of what’s left of my small intestine pokes out my side. Yes, you read that correctly, I have an organ which now sits partially on the outside of my skin. It’s a cool party trick. I won’t bore you with the long details of my hospital stay (though it will be written below if you need a referesher) as, if you’re reading this, you’re probably well aware of my story already. Instead, I want this and future posts to be about my life now - one where I’m living with an ostomy and enough scar tissue to stretch to the moon and back. Readers beware, there will be a lot of poop talk (cause life can get pretty shitty these days) and plenty of dad jokes (see previous parentheses) because that’s the best way I know how to deal. Also because self deprecating humor is my love language.
My ostostory is pretty bland in that I didn’t live a life full of medical ups and downs that would make a good book. Instead, the short version is that I woke up from a coma with a shit bag attached to my side. To say that was a rude awakening is an understatement. For many who end up with an ostomy, their life prior to receiving the bag was one that had them tied to a hospital bed. They’re often living with Crohn’s or Ulcerative Colitis which takes away any sense of normalcy. A bag gives them their life back, whilst mine has seemed to take mine away. Is it saving my life? Yes. Am I grateful for that? Of course. Do I feel normal and rejuvenated? Hell. Fucking. No.
Listen, I’m not trying to complain or be Negative Nancy, but when you go from thinking you’re just having a laparoscopic gallbladder removal to then having 11 surgeries, being in a coma, on life support, and having an ostomy bag, this certainly wasn’t what I signed up for. The good news is, it’s gotten a little easier. Or maybe I’m just coming up with better jokes about it. Who knows? I do feel like changing my bag and finding better ways to hide it under clothing has become less problematic. At this point, the tears are less frequent (unless I have a bag leak in public and then anything is game) and the smiles are more. I’ve slowly come to accept the bag a little more, and have welcomed new fellowship from other ostomates. In the coming weeks, I hope to start volunteering at the hospital to advise new ostomy patients on how to live with their stomas, and hopefully offer them educational insight that a doctor and nurse cannot give. Because really, living with one is a far cry from being told how to deal with it. Trust me.
Here’s to the start of a new blog about me and Cersei the Stoma.
So what had happened was...
On October 9th, 2017 I was admitted to the ER for emergency gallbladder removal. I was to have the surgery laproscopically the following morning, and it was thought that everything went as planned - or so I was told. While most spend a day in post op care, I spent about a week in the hospital. I was then discharged with undiagnosed pancreatitis and an 18cm cyst around my pancreas. From that point on, I was in and out of the hospital for about a month while also on oxygen and a feeding tube. In late November, I was admitted to the hospital to have a planned procedure but was at that time diagnosed with sepsis. Not longer after admittance, the cyst burst and the infectious fluids ate away part of my organs - I then had portions of my small intestine removed as well as a colon resection. Doctors were trying to drain the fluid out of my abdomen via various tubes, but were unsuccessful. In early January, I was placed into a medically induced coma for 3 weeks. During that time, I had surgery every day or so, so my abdomen was left open so they didn’t have to sew me back up only to cut me open again in a few days. I was on a ventilator while in the coma, and because I was on it for so long (I believe 14 days is the legal maximum in order to not need to be weaned off) I was then given a tracheostomy. I had the trach in for about 3 weeks as I learned to breath again on my own. I was finally discharged on March 1st, 2018 after 5 months of hospital stays - 3 months of which were straight through without ever being discharged.
Fun fact: a mere 3 hours after being discharged I accidentally ripped out an abdominal tube drain. Good times.