Tuesday, July 30, 2013

This is why.

This is why I'm here.

I truly understand the thought that if you show a bunch of young criminals what can happen to their bodies if they are injured, they might think twice about their behavior. I get it. I admire the desire to reach these young people on a different level. I really do. Really. 

I do not, however, condone the use of ostomies for this purpose. Yes, some ostomies are necessary because of injury. Yes, some of those injuries might be caused by crime. 

I, and many others, have these because of health. I didn't shoot anyone. I have never been shot. I do not limp and I certainly don't think that this will make me repulsive to the opposite sex. 

I love my ostomy. It saved my life. 

Stoma?

Okay, scary part is over. Phew! That was much harder to write than I thought it would be.
I think I'll take a quick moment to explain what a stoma is. Or, at least what mine is.

I have an end ileostomy. The ileum is the very end of my small intestines that the doctor pulled to the surface of my abdomen and folded the ends over and stitched to my skin. This lovely little lump of intestine sticking out is called a stoma!

Since surgery, my quality of life has definitely improved. The flare ups are gone and "knock on wood" I haven't even gotten a cold!

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Stoma Story - Part 3


I put off writing this post for a while. I will never, ever forget this time of my life. Thinking back on those days gives me almost a panic. I am so lucky. If you don't believe in luck, you could say there was divine intervention or that fate took over.
I should call it My Very Own Series of Fortunate Events.

August 2012
If I went back and looked at my hospital records I bet I could tell you exactly how many times I went to the ER last summer. I have honestly forgotten the exact number. I think four. It started with a flare up and muscle soreness. Then I started developing sores in my mouth. I had enough sores that I couldn't really eat. The doctors at the ER told me that I had hand, foot and mouth disease. They sent me home and told me that it would go away in a few days. Well, a few days later I was back at the ER, severely dehydrated because I couldn't swallow. Hand, foot and mouth. They sent me home with "magic mouthwash." It numbed my mouth long enough for me to take a few sips of water. Soon after the fevers started. My first fever spiked to 102. There were days that the fever would spike, I would take Tylenol, the fever would break leaving me covered in sweat, and then the fever would spike again...rinse and repeat. I found myself too sick to travel to my sisters baby shower that I had planned. I spent the day in bed, trying to drink Gatorade and whole milk so my body could have some nutrients. I was up to taking Percocet every few hours to break the fever and relieve the pain. Finally, I made an appointment with my GI doctor.
My mom drove me to the appointment because I was so weak. I couldn't sit up in the exam room. I will never forget the look on my doctors face when he saw me sitting there, mouth full of sores, white and shaking from malnutrition. He told me to go to the hospital right away and that he would call and guarantee that I was admitted.
I spent a week in the hospital getting steroids and pain meds with little improvement. The doctor decided to do another colonoscopy to see how bad things looked and decide on a plan of action. At this point, the worry was that I was misdiagnosed with ulcerative colitis and that I actually had Crohn's Disease. I was put under for the colonoscopy. When I woke up I immediately knew something was wrong. I was put into a private room for recovery and was told that a surgeon was going to come speak to me. They allowed my dad to come in at that point.
The surgeon came in and spoke like many surgeons do. Very point blank and abrasive. He told me that the GI didn't complete my colonoscopy because my colon was in such bad shape. He said I was to be put on a liquid diet to give my colon a little bit of a rest. He told me and my father that I would have to have a picc line put in and that I was going to start being treated with strong immunosuppressants to try to aggressively treat this disease.
September 5, 2012
What were you doing that day?
My day started with a picc line. A picc line is like an IV but sturdier. The tube is placed with the assistance of an ultrasound machine and goes through a vein all the way to your heart. Because the placement has to be perfect, it is double checked with an X-ray. That picc line and X-ray changed my life. Saved my life, actually. Whoever looked at the X-ray noticed something off, something wrong, something terrifying. They discovered "free air" in my abdomen. My colon had perforated.
My colon had perforated.
There was a hole on the lining of my colon.
Bacteria was seeping and leaking into my normally pristine abdomen.
Bacteria that could cause infection.
Bacteria that would kill me if not taken care of quickly.
I was immediately prepped for surgery.

This is where I'll take a break. I'm typing through tears. That day was the worst day of my life as well as a not so bad day.
*spoiler* I didn't die. I could have. I would have if not for that X-ray.

The Stoma Story - Part 2

I vividly remember sitting in the GI's office and looking at brochures that he had displayed on the wall. I had noticed the one titled Crohn's Disease and thought "I don't even know what that is." I had no idea it was a digestive issue. I had heard it mentioned on tv commercials for different medications but that was it.
The doctor came in and gave me an exam and then sat down to talk about my medical history. He was especially interested in the part where I wrote about my grandfathers colon cancer and my moms history of polyps. He recommended I get a colonoscopy. A colonoscopy is when a doctor puts a camera up your butt to take a look at your colon. I'll talk about how much fun colonoscopies are another day. Skip to- my doctor found ulcers on my colon. If you're lucky, maybe I'll dig up the photos!
I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis.
I was put on a medication that I would have to take three times a day.
Over the next year, I was in and out of the ER with flare ups. They would give me pain meds and steroids and send me home.
Then, in August 2012, everything changed.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Stoma Story - Part 1

I should start this journey of ours by explaining how I came to have a stoma.
**WARNING** This story is a prime example of TMI. If you faint easily, do not read. Or, if you get really grossed out by reading about poop. Come to think of it, I will probably write about poop a lot. You, poop haters, will not feel welcome here. (Though you totally are, because everyone is!)

Anywho...

It all started with the birth of my son, Mancub. They cut that little (huge) sucker right out of me and sent me home with my new offspring and some awesome pain meds. Yay! As you probably can imagine, recovering from a c-section is just about as much fun as...well, recovering from major abdominal surgery. On top of the other really disgusting vomit-inducing wonderful side effects of childbirth, I began to experience poop issues. I'm talkin' run-to-the-bathroom-because-I-might-not-make-it kind of issues. Then came the blood. Doctors say "Well, Mama, you just had a ten and a half pound baby, you have hemorrhoids!" Then came the mucous. See, this is where I'll lose the weak stomachs. Yes, mucous. In my poop. Doctors still told me not to worry about it. Then came the pain. I can't even describe the stomach pain. Every time I had a bowel movement there would be pain. Finally, I was referred to a Gastrointestinal doctor, or GI.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Willkommen Bienvenue Welcome

This is my very first post. How do you like it so far? You comfortable? Can I get you anything? No? Okay, let's move on then.

 "Why write a blog, Mama?" You may ask, in, what I assume is a genuinely curious tone. Simple answer- because I feel like it. Not-so-simple answer- I'm hoping to spread awareness for other people with ostomies and become part of the ostomy sufferers cool kids club. As a new ostomate, I have discovered that it is not rare to walk around with a bag attached to one's abdomen! But nobody is freaking talking about it! That's the thing about this Mama, I like to talk. A lot. And I want to talk about this. I want to talk about how this disease and surgery have changed my life. I want to talk about how having an ostomy has affected my self image and self esteem. I want to talk about how it has and will continue to affect my son. I want to talk about relationships, family and work.

So, let's talk.