I was a 30 year old happy go lucky traveller/ sailor/ environmental activist of sorts when my troubles began whilst working on a private yacht in the South of France. At first I thought it was a touch of food poisoning as myself and my then partner went out to dinner and tasted Frances finest cuisine, which involved lots of snails and frogs legs, well... when in Rome and all that.
Two weeks later on returning back from my partners home town in Italy I decided I was literally full of crap! and went to seek medical attention in Monaco. I remember lying on the bed in the very fine triage ward, all marbled with paintings on the wall and having just had a finger rammed up my butt, thinking to myself " I wonder if any of Monaco's finest have lain here with they very same finger exploring their inner self. It kinda amused me this visualisation and side tracked me from the dilemma I was in.
"Mr O'Donnell" he said in his very French accent, "we think you may be a little constipated and we would like to give you this to use when you get home", and he proudly presented me with a small bottle of Mircolax as if I had just won it.
Upon application of the Mircolax which involves squirting it up ones butt, I suddenly realised why the consultant was smiling proudly as I left the hospital, the solution I had just squirted up my butt sent my anus into uncontrollable spasms which left my teeth marks in the toilet door. Still didn't work, still hadn't had a crap for over 2 weeks and I was feeling a bit full...and sore!
So it was of back to the highlands of Scotland for me to get checked out...
It sounded quite convenient at the time, it was late October, the end of the yachting season in Europe and I was to pick up my brother from the highlands. We'd both be going to work on a yacht that was due for a refit in the Marseilles dry dock, so I'd kill two birds with the one stone so to speak. Easy Peasy...
Just before my hospital appointment unfortunately i was run over by a car whilst walking into my local village (to the pub actually), which involved myself in dark clothing, walking on the wrong side of the road of all things, a mild autumn night and a Volvo Estate, needless to say the Volvo estate won hands down resulting in my neck breaking in 2 places, a broken back, a broken knee and foot. Typical, I get whacked in me own village, just friggin marvellous. Although I didn't know about my injuries at the time, the medical staff at accident and emergency, because I requested to go for a cigarette decided I was ok and would only stay overnight as I was concussed and would be discharged in the morning.
The next morning the doctor visited me before signing my discharged papers and I made him aware of the fact that I couldn't feel my left arm, he sent me for a C.T scan and realised I had 2 fractures in my neck, 6 weeks later when they took the Philidelphia Collar from my neck, and x-rayed it, I asked the dude in the x-ray department if he could x-ray my knee also, I was horrified to discover I had a clean break just below my knee. The consultant never even attempted at making an excuse, other than a sheepish look.
Some months later I discovered I had actually fractured my spine and foot also. It really felt like I was in the Simpsons or something, I vowed I was going to sue the b*****d, but never did.
It was a trying time for me to say the least as now i was unable to move and unable to s**t, over the next six weeks I had been going in and out of the hospital for my bowel problem. My consultants were coming up with all kinds of excuses as to what might be causing the blockage, chronic dehydration, constipation, I had an anal fissure that was causing a spasm, it's all in the mind.... ?, when they came up with the last bright idea, I flipped out and told them I was not going to leave the hospital ward until they do their job properly and they stick a camera up my butt to determined what actually is going on up there, like they should have done in the first place... albeit there were a few more colourful words thrown in around that last statement, but I wont bore you with the range of languistic skills we highlanders can come up with in such circumstances.
Realising they had no option but to give me a colonoscopy, and to get me the hell out of their ward for Christmas, they gave me the bowel prep, oh yes the dreaded Picloax, floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee. Subsequently i was diagnosed with advanced rectal carcinoma / stage III rectal cancer on Christmas eve, yeh nice one Santa, just what I always wanted. Why don't they do the test for cancer at the start, would have saved them all the trouble, 1 in 4 people are diagnosed with cancer in the U.K, you'd imagine it would be the first thing the check for, but oh no, that's too much like common sense isn't it?.
So it was off to the oncology suite for me, a nice new shiny ward of Raigmore Hospital, all pleasing to the eye, where you can help yourself to tea and coffee and read the flyers on the wall about all the help and assistance that's available if you need it, new head scarfs and old people. That was the most prominent feature of the oncology suite, it was full of old people, no one my age there nor younger, just old people and really nice staff.
Radiotherapy and chemotherapy started in the March of 2005, I had to wait over 3 months for treatments as the oncologist that was dealing with me had recently passed away and the hospital had very conveniently forgotten to refer me to the new one.
By this time i had to be admitted to hospital for the full 6 weeks of treatment as my consultant thought I may be too weak to make it the 100 mile round trip every day for treatments. Raigmore Hospital have a patient lodge for such circumstances and yet again, it was full of old people, nice old people. I had been pretty much bed bound since my meeting on that October evening with Mr. Volvo and had eaten very little since then either, so I fitted in quite well actually, hmmmm milkshake again.
Chemotherapy is a strange thing to go thro, being hooked up to a drip and being slowly fed this poison that makes you feel soooo ill, it felt like WW3 had just been declared on my body. Urgh it was awful, thankfully my hair never fell out, guess I didn't need the crew cut after all lol. Also whilst i was in hospital having my butt and genetic lineage nuked, my only daughter suddenly passed away, she was 11, and I can safely say, it was the worst day of my life, i don't remember much of that day fortunately, except for feelings of guilt, deep sorrow and pure rage.
After the effects of the nuclear war waged on my butt had settled down and all parties had signed treaties, it was very clear that Radio and Chemotherapy had done nothing to shrink the tumour and it was off to the chopping shop for me,.
Again i can't remember too much about before the op apart from a stoma nurse putting 2 purple ink spots on either side of my groin area, i do remember asking her "what's that for?" to which she replied "just in case" an hour later i was out cold.
When i finally came round again all my alarm bells were ringing "ouch, ouch, f*****g OUCH!!", i looked down and there was a bag on either side of my pelvis, and tubes sticking out of me all over the place, i thought "B*****ds!. what have you done to me" unbeknown to me i had just received a colostomy and a urostomy, Not long after I was told that the surgeons had to remove my rectal stump, bladder and prostate.
After being discharged from hospital 10 days later and my mood was not good, not only had i been cut up like a side of beef, i realised i couldn't have sex again, "not quite the crown jewels down there now my son" i thought..
Anyhow 2 weeks later i was rushed back in with chest pains, i can't remember anything about the incident, but i was told that i tried to leave the emergency room and dropped dead in the hallway, my heart had stopped.. It was due to all the meds they were giving me all kinds of junk, tramadol, gabapentin, morphine sulphate, steroids ,and other kinds a pills i can't remember, no wonder my heart packed up.
There were a lot of trying times during those early days, too many leaks, aches and pains, confidence battered. Looking in the mirror was a hard one, seeing 2 bags hanging off me. Many times i had that talk with myself, "dude you've had some good innings, done a lot, you've had yer fill my son, how's about packing it all in and go searching for the ultimate question?" and all the time i would bring myself back with the "things will get better" trick, and they have.
The day after i got home from hospital for the heart attack i stopped all meds and went to Amsterdam for a bit of self medicating and cold turkey, funny inexplicable days they were, Then off to the South of France for 6 weeks, After being on the beaches in France my batteries were recharged and I was ready for the biggie. Lounging about on a beach in St. Martin for 3 months is good therapy for any ostomate, gets rid of all those gremlins, worked a treat it did.
I am still alive to tell my tale and i haven't looked back since, i have had no problems with my stomas of any kind, recovered well and am back to a resemblance of my normal self again, dancing, drinking, the odd flirt, still the cheeky chirpy dude i always was!.....and i can still party till the sun comes up.
But i have to admit if i may, if it wasn't for the support of the amazing people i have meet in a similar situation as myself on the internet, i don't think i would still be the same person mentally or physically for that matter.
2 Years on i asks my consultants at Raigmore Hospital in Inverness to be put forward for an Indiana Pouch please ,my consultants/surgeons are Mr Docherty for the colorectal side and Mr Bramwell for the urostomy side.. They had a meeting together and decided that this was a procedure that would be possible for me to have, although not in their hospital and sent me of for tests, most of which were at the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh under the watchful eye of Mr Stewart senior consultant, urology surgeon and Mr Alhasso.
Meeting with them in the Oct. of 07 was very productive and they decide to forward my name onto the waiting list for in their words (( a procedure which will involve converting your illeal conduit urinary diversion (urostomy) to a continent urinary diversion with a catheterisable stoma (indiana pouch)) with a fixed date as soon as possible.
So i went down to Edinburgh for a kidney test in Nov 07,which is a wee holiday for me as i live up in the Highlands of Scotland some 200miles from Edinburgh. The nice people give you travelling and living expenses so i stayed in a hotel on Princess Street and made a night of it, tis a very nice wee holiday to the capital might i add hehe..
The kidney test went well i had no scarring or damage at all, which suprised them somewhat t(i don't know why but i'm happy about that). Next stop the CT scan..
The C.T scan was done at Raigmore Inverness my local hospital in Dec.07, which was a full scan of my chest, abdomen and pelvis, if anyone has ever had one of these they will tell you that the worst part is the drink that you have to drink the night before and on the day of the scan, It's not too nice('cept for the French reading this who love Ricardo and Perno...) Sambuca is the taste i liken it too, i think the solution is called gastrograffin and the proceedure is called a Gastrograffin pull through. ..Anyhoo once i drank that i had to go thro the big polo(ct scanner) but not before the gave me an injection of something that made me have an instant hot flush and a taste of sucking copper in my mouth..it's actually an isotopic tracer, ach it's not that bad really, honestly it's not.. anyhow the scan showed no abnormalities.
So that's me passed the test with flying colours and am only to wait for the big day, which came on 18th of March 2008..
So there i was packing up the house and stuff getting everything ready for my op on the 18th March, my father was flying back to India on the day before so he arranged flying out that evening from Edinburgh instead, which was some doing i'll tell you, my mother had arranged a week off work to stay down in Edinburgh with me whilst i was in the High Depencency Unit after the op.. so it was all set.. or so it seemed.
On the friday before the op i got a phone call whist i was in the bath from the waiting lists woman from the Western General asking if i could go in the day before about early afternoon as it would take a few days to prepare my bowel for surgery.. damn!.. so after all the preperations and flight changes for my folks to drive me down to Edinburgh, i ended up having to take the bus on my own as my folks couldn't change their plans, they were to meet me the following day as planned. no worries
So i arrived at the hospital slightly stressing as it was now 3pm and i had been told to arrive early afternoon...hehehe they didn't even have a bed for me until 9pm,there i was wandering around the hospital trying to waste time for 6 hrs, unable to eat and only drink clear fluids..
Eventually they found a bed for me in ward 57 ,a urology ward, settles down, every one is getting the option of tea, coffee or hot chocolate, i have to drink a litre of Kleenprep, with the promise of another one to follow, this stuff is awful it tastes like a litre of salty cod liver oil, i could only manage two glasses of the stuff and went to sleep vowing to make them compromise in the morning..
wWen the sun came up and the doc came to see me we came to the agreement that i should be given Picolax instead which is a better tatse (like lemon Cremola Foam), and you only have to drink half a glass of it too....wee tip for y'all here, if you gotta empty your bowels for any reason ask for Picolax, i have tried many different types of emergency bowel evacuation solutions and Picolax is by far the better tasting of the lot.
Also I disovered one of the many befefits of having a colostomy that day, you don't have to sprint to the loo when you got the squirts, nor do you get ring sting after lol.
So finally the hour came to be wheeled down to the theatre, i was washed and gowned with me wee stockings on to prevent deep vein thrombosis, and the hour went, and it came again then it went.. i would have been a bit miffed had it not been for the 2 very pleasant student nurses keeping me company, turned out they were coming into the theatre with me to watch the operation being performed, tis quite strange sitting laughing and joking with 2 young girls knowing that they are going to see you as you've never seen youself, but i tried to put it to the back of my mind..
Yehaaa!! now they are wheeling me down to the theatre they tag my legs and wrists, read me my rights(joke) and i sign my life away, they wrap me up in inflatable plastic thing that's blowing hot air over me and wheel me straight back up to the ward again, apologising profusley about the complications that they are having just now...
2 hours later i get the injection and i am out cold..
Ok, so the easy bit is over, upon waking i notice that the worst pain was in my shoulders, it felt like some-one had been dancing on them, they wheel me up to the High Dependency Unit which was my home for the next five days, they put an epidural in my back, and left me to my spewing(which isn't that pleasant i tell you),i was spewing my ileum apparently, as my bowels didn't know which way to move as they had used a section of my colon to form the pouch and attached the loose end to the piece of colon that lead to my colostomy, never before had such an operation of transforming a frostily into an Idiana Pouch been performed in Scotland or so i am told hence all the students present during my operation.
The H.D.U was an endurance i have to admit ,my refusal to take morphine and opted for a lesser analgesic called fluorine(i think, was a bit spaced at the time), meant i could still feel a little sharpness from the op. The ward had four beds in it, one nurse to two beds, and they did absolutely nothing to help , on the second day you had to wash yourself and they help you washed your feet!!!, My dressings weren't changed and on the third day i had to sit on my seat for most of the day, which was an awful , The place was brutal, and not that clean, i remember counting how many times the cleaner swung her mop on the floor,17 wipes of a whole ward!.. not like other H.D.U's I had been to where there nurses are only to happy to even help you sip your water, and the ward smells like a bottle of bleach, but hey i survived.
When i got taken to the urology ward i was delighted, the place was clean and tidy and the nurses were lovely, they showed me with great patience how to do my own dressings and syringe my pubic catheter free of mucous, as i have to go home with it in for 4 weeks.
The doctors put me onto a drug called oxycontin/oxynorm, which is an analgesic and super efficient, also an antibiotic and some anti sickness pills which didn't really works as i was still having a wee spew about twice a day ,a week after the op i was walking down to the main enterence of the hospital to have a wee spliff (yep thats right ,i'm a bit of a pot smoker, judge me as you will), which in my opinion is the best way to get back on the road to recovery, all the other guys were just lying in bed or sitting next to it, taking weeks to recover, and there i was, all be it with not without challenges ,walking 3 times a day to the main entrance, approx a 1/3rd of a mile in all.
I got busted by the nurse, I had just come back from outside and a nurse wanted to check my dressings, "have you been smoking?" she asked, "yip!" i replied, "like smoking herbal substances?" she asked, "nope" i replied, shoving a mint in my mouth and smiling, next thing the auxilary comes in with a wee sample pot for a sample of my urine. .half an hour later the same nurse that busted me came back and she was smiling, "so what i smoke a little pot, who cares, i don't take other drugs and hate pharmacy drugs, as you know because you just drug tested me" i said.. "yep we know", she said "anyway pot is the best thing for pain ,shame it's not legal, be careful what your doing with it tho, we don't want to have to treat you from a police cell" my jaw dropped, i swear she was going to ask me for a bit of weed. hehe..
On the 8th day they took out my pubic drain,(to drain the mucous and blood from the inside of the body),stood and watched me as i done my dressings and syringed my catheter and said i could go home on Friday if i wanted...wow! i thought i had to be in for three weeks, but hey i'm not complaining...so my mum came to pick me up, i'm loaded with dressings and meds and syringes, and i'm home.
Looking back the nurses on that ward were amazing, i was the youngest in the whole ward, (again) and also i used to keep the fan on most of the day with the window open, a few of the nurses during their free time used to sit by my bed and just chat about, music,clubbing, girls, which nurses are single and stuff, i had a great time in that ward, when I came back to have my pura pubic catheter out, ih had an arm full of goodies for them, it's nice to see nurses smiling, they are normally so stressed and over worked.
Almost a year has passed since my operation for my Indiana Pouch, and health wise have had very few problems, at first when the pouch was still new it was very unpredictable and leaked often, but as it started setlling down, I soon got to learn the signals of when it was full and needed drained. Now for the best part it behaves it's self.
So what has happened over the past year? Well I now realise that once again the world is my oyster, within reason lol.x
Two weeks later on returning back from my partners home town in Italy I decided I was literally full of crap! and went to seek medical attention in Monaco. I remember lying on the bed in the very fine triage ward, all marbled with paintings on the wall and having just had a finger rammed up my butt, thinking to myself " I wonder if any of Monaco's finest have lain here with they very same finger exploring their inner self. It kinda amused me this visualisation and side tracked me from the dilemma I was in.
"Mr O'Donnell" he said in his very French accent, "we think you may be a little constipated and we would like to give you this to use when you get home", and he proudly presented me with a small bottle of Mircolax as if I had just won it.
Upon application of the Mircolax which involves squirting it up ones butt, I suddenly realised why the consultant was smiling proudly as I left the hospital, the solution I had just squirted up my butt sent my anus into uncontrollable spasms which left my teeth marks in the toilet door. Still didn't work, still hadn't had a crap for over 2 weeks and I was feeling a bit full...and sore!
So it was of back to the highlands of Scotland for me to get checked out...
It sounded quite convenient at the time, it was late October, the end of the yachting season in Europe and I was to pick up my brother from the highlands. We'd both be going to work on a yacht that was due for a refit in the Marseilles dry dock, so I'd kill two birds with the one stone so to speak. Easy Peasy...
Just before my hospital appointment unfortunately i was run over by a car whilst walking into my local village (to the pub actually), which involved myself in dark clothing, walking on the wrong side of the road of all things, a mild autumn night and a Volvo Estate, needless to say the Volvo estate won hands down resulting in my neck breaking in 2 places, a broken back, a broken knee and foot. Typical, I get whacked in me own village, just friggin marvellous. Although I didn't know about my injuries at the time, the medical staff at accident and emergency, because I requested to go for a cigarette decided I was ok and would only stay overnight as I was concussed and would be discharged in the morning.
The next morning the doctor visited me before signing my discharged papers and I made him aware of the fact that I couldn't feel my left arm, he sent me for a C.T scan and realised I had 2 fractures in my neck, 6 weeks later when they took the Philidelphia Collar from my neck, and x-rayed it, I asked the dude in the x-ray department if he could x-ray my knee also, I was horrified to discover I had a clean break just below my knee. The consultant never even attempted at making an excuse, other than a sheepish look.
Some months later I discovered I had actually fractured my spine and foot also. It really felt like I was in the Simpsons or something, I vowed I was going to sue the b*****d, but never did.
It was a trying time for me to say the least as now i was unable to move and unable to s**t, over the next six weeks I had been going in and out of the hospital for my bowel problem. My consultants were coming up with all kinds of excuses as to what might be causing the blockage, chronic dehydration, constipation, I had an anal fissure that was causing a spasm, it's all in the mind.... ?, when they came up with the last bright idea, I flipped out and told them I was not going to leave the hospital ward until they do their job properly and they stick a camera up my butt to determined what actually is going on up there, like they should have done in the first place... albeit there were a few more colourful words thrown in around that last statement, but I wont bore you with the range of languistic skills we highlanders can come up with in such circumstances.
Realising they had no option but to give me a colonoscopy, and to get me the hell out of their ward for Christmas, they gave me the bowel prep, oh yes the dreaded Picloax, floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee. Subsequently i was diagnosed with advanced rectal carcinoma / stage III rectal cancer on Christmas eve, yeh nice one Santa, just what I always wanted. Why don't they do the test for cancer at the start, would have saved them all the trouble, 1 in 4 people are diagnosed with cancer in the U.K, you'd imagine it would be the first thing the check for, but oh no, that's too much like common sense isn't it?.
So it was off to the oncology suite for me, a nice new shiny ward of Raigmore Hospital, all pleasing to the eye, where you can help yourself to tea and coffee and read the flyers on the wall about all the help and assistance that's available if you need it, new head scarfs and old people. That was the most prominent feature of the oncology suite, it was full of old people, no one my age there nor younger, just old people and really nice staff.
Radiotherapy and chemotherapy started in the March of 2005, I had to wait over 3 months for treatments as the oncologist that was dealing with me had recently passed away and the hospital had very conveniently forgotten to refer me to the new one.
By this time i had to be admitted to hospital for the full 6 weeks of treatment as my consultant thought I may be too weak to make it the 100 mile round trip every day for treatments. Raigmore Hospital have a patient lodge for such circumstances and yet again, it was full of old people, nice old people. I had been pretty much bed bound since my meeting on that October evening with Mr. Volvo and had eaten very little since then either, so I fitted in quite well actually, hmmmm milkshake again.
Chemotherapy is a strange thing to go thro, being hooked up to a drip and being slowly fed this poison that makes you feel soooo ill, it felt like WW3 had just been declared on my body. Urgh it was awful, thankfully my hair never fell out, guess I didn't need the crew cut after all lol. Also whilst i was in hospital having my butt and genetic lineage nuked, my only daughter suddenly passed away, she was 11, and I can safely say, it was the worst day of my life, i don't remember much of that day fortunately, except for feelings of guilt, deep sorrow and pure rage.
After the effects of the nuclear war waged on my butt had settled down and all parties had signed treaties, it was very clear that Radio and Chemotherapy had done nothing to shrink the tumour and it was off to the chopping shop for me,.
Again i can't remember too much about before the op apart from a stoma nurse putting 2 purple ink spots on either side of my groin area, i do remember asking her "what's that for?" to which she replied "just in case" an hour later i was out cold.
When i finally came round again all my alarm bells were ringing "ouch, ouch, f*****g OUCH!!", i looked down and there was a bag on either side of my pelvis, and tubes sticking out of me all over the place, i thought "B*****ds!. what have you done to me" unbeknown to me i had just received a colostomy and a urostomy, Not long after I was told that the surgeons had to remove my rectal stump, bladder and prostate.
After being discharged from hospital 10 days later and my mood was not good, not only had i been cut up like a side of beef, i realised i couldn't have sex again, "not quite the crown jewels down there now my son" i thought..
Anyhow 2 weeks later i was rushed back in with chest pains, i can't remember anything about the incident, but i was told that i tried to leave the emergency room and dropped dead in the hallway, my heart had stopped.. It was due to all the meds they were giving me all kinds of junk, tramadol, gabapentin, morphine sulphate, steroids ,and other kinds a pills i can't remember, no wonder my heart packed up.
There were a lot of trying times during those early days, too many leaks, aches and pains, confidence battered. Looking in the mirror was a hard one, seeing 2 bags hanging off me. Many times i had that talk with myself, "dude you've had some good innings, done a lot, you've had yer fill my son, how's about packing it all in and go searching for the ultimate question?" and all the time i would bring myself back with the "things will get better" trick, and they have.
The day after i got home from hospital for the heart attack i stopped all meds and went to Amsterdam for a bit of self medicating and cold turkey, funny inexplicable days they were, Then off to the South of France for 6 weeks, After being on the beaches in France my batteries were recharged and I was ready for the biggie. Lounging about on a beach in St. Martin for 3 months is good therapy for any ostomate, gets rid of all those gremlins, worked a treat it did.
I am still alive to tell my tale and i haven't looked back since, i have had no problems with my stomas of any kind, recovered well and am back to a resemblance of my normal self again, dancing, drinking, the odd flirt, still the cheeky chirpy dude i always was!.....and i can still party till the sun comes up.
But i have to admit if i may, if it wasn't for the support of the amazing people i have meet in a similar situation as myself on the internet, i don't think i would still be the same person mentally or physically for that matter.
2 Years on i asks my consultants at Raigmore Hospital in Inverness to be put forward for an Indiana Pouch please ,my consultants/surgeons are Mr Docherty for the colorectal side and Mr Bramwell for the urostomy side.. They had a meeting together and decided that this was a procedure that would be possible for me to have, although not in their hospital and sent me of for tests, most of which were at the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh under the watchful eye of Mr Stewart senior consultant, urology surgeon and Mr Alhasso.
Meeting with them in the Oct. of 07 was very productive and they decide to forward my name onto the waiting list for in their words (( a procedure which will involve converting your illeal conduit urinary diversion (urostomy) to a continent urinary diversion with a catheterisable stoma (indiana pouch)) with a fixed date as soon as possible.
So i went down to Edinburgh for a kidney test in Nov 07,which is a wee holiday for me as i live up in the Highlands of Scotland some 200miles from Edinburgh. The nice people give you travelling and living expenses so i stayed in a hotel on Princess Street and made a night of it, tis a very nice wee holiday to the capital might i add hehe..
The kidney test went well i had no scarring or damage at all, which suprised them somewhat t(i don't know why but i'm happy about that). Next stop the CT scan..
The C.T scan was done at Raigmore Inverness my local hospital in Dec.07, which was a full scan of my chest, abdomen and pelvis, if anyone has ever had one of these they will tell you that the worst part is the drink that you have to drink the night before and on the day of the scan, It's not too nice('cept for the French reading this who love Ricardo and Perno...) Sambuca is the taste i liken it too, i think the solution is called gastrograffin and the proceedure is called a Gastrograffin pull through. ..Anyhoo once i drank that i had to go thro the big polo(ct scanner) but not before the gave me an injection of something that made me have an instant hot flush and a taste of sucking copper in my mouth..it's actually an isotopic tracer, ach it's not that bad really, honestly it's not.. anyhow the scan showed no abnormalities.
So that's me passed the test with flying colours and am only to wait for the big day, which came on 18th of March 2008..
So there i was packing up the house and stuff getting everything ready for my op on the 18th March, my father was flying back to India on the day before so he arranged flying out that evening from Edinburgh instead, which was some doing i'll tell you, my mother had arranged a week off work to stay down in Edinburgh with me whilst i was in the High Depencency Unit after the op.. so it was all set.. or so it seemed.
On the friday before the op i got a phone call whist i was in the bath from the waiting lists woman from the Western General asking if i could go in the day before about early afternoon as it would take a few days to prepare my bowel for surgery.. damn!.. so after all the preperations and flight changes for my folks to drive me down to Edinburgh, i ended up having to take the bus on my own as my folks couldn't change their plans, they were to meet me the following day as planned. no worries
So i arrived at the hospital slightly stressing as it was now 3pm and i had been told to arrive early afternoon...hehehe they didn't even have a bed for me until 9pm,there i was wandering around the hospital trying to waste time for 6 hrs, unable to eat and only drink clear fluids..
Eventually they found a bed for me in ward 57 ,a urology ward, settles down, every one is getting the option of tea, coffee or hot chocolate, i have to drink a litre of Kleenprep, with the promise of another one to follow, this stuff is awful it tastes like a litre of salty cod liver oil, i could only manage two glasses of the stuff and went to sleep vowing to make them compromise in the morning..
wWen the sun came up and the doc came to see me we came to the agreement that i should be given Picolax instead which is a better tatse (like lemon Cremola Foam), and you only have to drink half a glass of it too....wee tip for y'all here, if you gotta empty your bowels for any reason ask for Picolax, i have tried many different types of emergency bowel evacuation solutions and Picolax is by far the better tasting of the lot.
Also I disovered one of the many befefits of having a colostomy that day, you don't have to sprint to the loo when you got the squirts, nor do you get ring sting after lol.
So finally the hour came to be wheeled down to the theatre, i was washed and gowned with me wee stockings on to prevent deep vein thrombosis, and the hour went, and it came again then it went.. i would have been a bit miffed had it not been for the 2 very pleasant student nurses keeping me company, turned out they were coming into the theatre with me to watch the operation being performed, tis quite strange sitting laughing and joking with 2 young girls knowing that they are going to see you as you've never seen youself, but i tried to put it to the back of my mind..
Yehaaa!! now they are wheeling me down to the theatre they tag my legs and wrists, read me my rights(joke) and i sign my life away, they wrap me up in inflatable plastic thing that's blowing hot air over me and wheel me straight back up to the ward again, apologising profusley about the complications that they are having just now...
2 hours later i get the injection and i am out cold..
Ok, so the easy bit is over, upon waking i notice that the worst pain was in my shoulders, it felt like some-one had been dancing on them, they wheel me up to the High Dependency Unit which was my home for the next five days, they put an epidural in my back, and left me to my spewing(which isn't that pleasant i tell you),i was spewing my ileum apparently, as my bowels didn't know which way to move as they had used a section of my colon to form the pouch and attached the loose end to the piece of colon that lead to my colostomy, never before had such an operation of transforming a frostily into an Idiana Pouch been performed in Scotland or so i am told hence all the students present during my operation.
The H.D.U was an endurance i have to admit ,my refusal to take morphine and opted for a lesser analgesic called fluorine(i think, was a bit spaced at the time), meant i could still feel a little sharpness from the op. The ward had four beds in it, one nurse to two beds, and they did absolutely nothing to help , on the second day you had to wash yourself and they help you washed your feet!!!, My dressings weren't changed and on the third day i had to sit on my seat for most of the day, which was an awful , The place was brutal, and not that clean, i remember counting how many times the cleaner swung her mop on the floor,17 wipes of a whole ward!.. not like other H.D.U's I had been to where there nurses are only to happy to even help you sip your water, and the ward smells like a bottle of bleach, but hey i survived.
When i got taken to the urology ward i was delighted, the place was clean and tidy and the nurses were lovely, they showed me with great patience how to do my own dressings and syringe my pubic catheter free of mucous, as i have to go home with it in for 4 weeks.
The doctors put me onto a drug called oxycontin/oxynorm, which is an analgesic and super efficient, also an antibiotic and some anti sickness pills which didn't really works as i was still having a wee spew about twice a day ,a week after the op i was walking down to the main enterence of the hospital to have a wee spliff (yep thats right ,i'm a bit of a pot smoker, judge me as you will), which in my opinion is the best way to get back on the road to recovery, all the other guys were just lying in bed or sitting next to it, taking weeks to recover, and there i was, all be it with not without challenges ,walking 3 times a day to the main entrance, approx a 1/3rd of a mile in all.
I got busted by the nurse, I had just come back from outside and a nurse wanted to check my dressings, "have you been smoking?" she asked, "yip!" i replied, "like smoking herbal substances?" she asked, "nope" i replied, shoving a mint in my mouth and smiling, next thing the auxilary comes in with a wee sample pot for a sample of my urine. .half an hour later the same nurse that busted me came back and she was smiling, "so what i smoke a little pot, who cares, i don't take other drugs and hate pharmacy drugs, as you know because you just drug tested me" i said.. "yep we know", she said "anyway pot is the best thing for pain ,shame it's not legal, be careful what your doing with it tho, we don't want to have to treat you from a police cell" my jaw dropped, i swear she was going to ask me for a bit of weed. hehe..
On the 8th day they took out my pubic drain,(to drain the mucous and blood from the inside of the body),stood and watched me as i done my dressings and syringed my catheter and said i could go home on Friday if i wanted...wow! i thought i had to be in for three weeks, but hey i'm not complaining...so my mum came to pick me up, i'm loaded with dressings and meds and syringes, and i'm home.
Looking back the nurses on that ward were amazing, i was the youngest in the whole ward, (again) and also i used to keep the fan on most of the day with the window open, a few of the nurses during their free time used to sit by my bed and just chat about, music,clubbing, girls, which nurses are single and stuff, i had a great time in that ward, when I came back to have my pura pubic catheter out, ih had an arm full of goodies for them, it's nice to see nurses smiling, they are normally so stressed and over worked.
Almost a year has passed since my operation for my Indiana Pouch, and health wise have had very few problems, at first when the pouch was still new it was very unpredictable and leaked often, but as it started setlling down, I soon got to learn the signals of when it was full and needed drained. Now for the best part it behaves it's self.
So what has happened over the past year? Well I now realise that once again the world is my oyster, within reason lol.x
