Delusions of Grandeur: Gunny's Poo Blog and Marketing Dreams

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

amazing sponsership oportunity

I do not know who I thinkI am, and who might actually want to read this. I do sometimes suffer with delusions about my writing ,I think it may be the tramadol (so many side effects)butI took it on to myself to contact the marketing director of Coloplast and tell himwhat an amazing marketing opportunityI am with this blogg, like writing exclusively about his poo bags will suddenly improve sales. Its not as ifI have a mass of followers, hanging on my every word ,I have in fact 3(you knowwho you are)and one of those is myself.

he politely wrote back to say that, 'the firm were not looking at sponsoring presently, and good luck with the biopseys'.Not leaving it at that ,and now having full access to his personal e mail I have barraged him in stalker like proportiones with handy hints, tips and suggestions for his products, I just cant help myself, for instance why do all poo bags have to be light beige ? how about some denim effect ones or some pastel color? and why put instructions in every box , we got it the first time , and what about the environment? , don't get me started on the cheap scratchy wipes they expect us to use. and how dare they call the bags flesh color when IBD is not restricted to white people. I was only half joking whenI suggested the hollygarland round the bag pattern to be worn at Christmas, it would be a laugh.

he did say he would take my comments on bord but the different color bags' were not going to be a runner due to the low profit margins on prescription goods'.

I could not help notice the coloplast employee of the year won an all inclusive break insome south American countryfor themselves and a Friend all expenses paid . he has stopped answering my polite suggestions and has passed me on to the people in Denmark who do customer feedback.

I have taken ablue felt tip toa bag or two to fill my day.

urine therapy!!!

My 14 year old daughter Ella was 'looking at me funny' all night what is it dear ? i knew something was up.

'mum you are grossing me out&#39

Ella had been poking about in my special cupord under the sink , the cupbord which holds my various poo related paraphernalia sprays, wipes, disposalbags, pouches,enemas, otherstuff to make you go, stuff to stop you going , stuff to cover up smells , stuff to protect the stoma, a length of pipe and a turkey baster (don't ask what theyare for)

Ella had told me a story of a girl she knew who had a row with her mum, and as a pay back had dunked her mums tooth brush in an unflushed toilet full of urine, how terrible .

however my ex husband who looks a youthful 50 is actually 60 and was not adverse to having the old half of his own wee of a morning during the early 90's. He had read about it and some crazy English actress had also advocated this as therapy siting the bible as proof , there is a verse allegedlywhich says that the water from your own body, provides the cure for all your body's ills. Well, it all sounds a bit homeopathic to me.

getting back to the funny look, Ella emerged from the loo with the cupbord again , 'what the hell mum! what is this ? are you drinking your own piss? ' I had to think for a moment ifI was . Indeed, she was holdingin an acusing way ,a huge bottle of piss and it had my name on it , it was only when I read the small print thatI realised it was a bottle of lactalose, which did look suprising wee like.

This has got me thinking that if Ella does take the wee on the tooth brush route, she may be inadvertently curing me from my IBD.

I feel a row brewing.

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

some one has trod in s....

I had every shoe in the house lifted and fully inspected and sniffed at ,(by my youngest ,I don't do that sort of thing)some one had trod in dog shit , it was a definite.I only got an occasional whiff of it as you do on these occasions. It was bugging me all day and the nail brush had been sacrificed on all the shoes in the hall, but still it persisted, such is my trust in the poo bag that the thought did not cross my mind for a second thatI could be the guilty one . One thingI don't like about wearing a poo bag is thatI always sound likeI have a couple of empty crisp packs shoved down mywaist, there is a persistent russeling sound. So when a new russel free product was launchedI was first in the que to try it. It was bigger than my normal cap/pouch butI thought in order to get rid of this Autumn leavesstyle all year round russel thenI would give it a go , it seems the bag did not suit, and had opened at the top only a few millimeters, but enough for me to have launched the full scale investigation of 'who had brought the soiled shoe in to the home.I

don't think they read this blogg.I will not tell if you don't.

whats in this curry?

I am quite blase' about this whole poo bag wearing thing these days it doesn't represent much of a problem to me. It is the views and feelings of other people that can cause issues .

I am meticulous about using the little black plastic disposable bags that they give you to dispose of my 'pouches' after popping the contents in the looI put them in the plastic and tie up , only on one occasion i did not bother , why is it i can never get away with anything like this with out being discovered?

a Friend of mine came for lunch and as she is celiac (gluten intolerant)we always have an extended discussion about our mutual bowels what irritates what new products are out and other general issues of intestinal interest.I had made a chicken Currey using a Loyd gross man sauce ,I always check the labels for gluten whenthis friend visits.i don't know why but she did not seem to trust me on the gluten issue and before i could stop her she was rummaging through my dustbin to locate the label , no need to tell you , this was the lazy day where i had not bagged up.

Idon't know on what other feasible occasion a Friend would rummage elbow high through ones waste bin, so i did not know what to say when she held the used appliance aloft and asked ,'whats this? i saw here face change as it dawned on her what 'this was' nothing else was said of the matter, neither of us ate much Curry.

health update

I got the letter today from my consultant that they may not be able to reverse the stoma. the biopsy's taken were dodgy (not his words) and they are sending them off for more analysis. i could live the rest of my life with my bum hole at the front , but this hernia that is as big as a football is another matter.

it seems the secret diary will continue till I know more.

phantom pregnancy

this story was a moment captured of what my life was like before the operation.

Imagine my panic: I was five minutes into a sixteen mile drive to my

home and having reviously plotted out all the public toilets from

Eastbourne to Saltdean, I knew that the next public toilet abundant

with soft toilet paper was in Peacehaven.

I am afraid that terrible urge came on. This was a bad one, cold

sweats, and raging cramps with the feeling of utmost urgency; only

otherwise ever felt during the last phases of child birth.

I knew I wasn't going to make it, and so pulled in to the first pub I

saw. I would purchase a Britvic in compensation for using the

conveniences. It was 11.30 on a Sunday morning, so conceivable that

they may be open.

I tottered down the steep pub steps and tried the door, then hammered

on the door. No answer. I looked to the pub garden but it was

exposed to the road (yes that bad).

A large Waitrose was 200 metres behind the pub so I pigeon-stepped and

bottomed-squeezed my way there and conjured up a story of why I needed

the loo, as I recalled they had no public facilities.

I took a young check-out girl to one side, rubbed my protruding IBD

style belly and lied ldquo;I am heavily pregnant, please may I use your

toilet? rdquo

She could not have been more kind and led me through what felt like

another half mile to the back of the shop, to the staff lsquo;rest rooms. rsquo

The trousers were down in record time. The relief! The sound effects

were like a warm-up session of lsquo;the horns' of the London Philharmonic.

I will not go too much in to the smell, but there was a consequence of

watering eyes. I do remember making

several lsquoah' sounds during this lsquo;release'.

I was in there around 20 minutes and used what was left on the roll of

the entire supply of Charmin (you get to know! ).

In the subsequent lsquo;clean up operation' there were several flushes

involved, and I was dismayed to see no air freshener but just a

shrivelled up Glade gel thing in a plastic

pyramid which I shook about a bit, to no avail.

Can you imagine my horror as I stepped out, to see the check-out girl

had been waiting outside the door the entire time! Had I known, I

might have asked her to shove another handful of Charmin under the


She had the back of her polyester sleeve held to her nose. I must have

looked shocked because she said, ldquo;sorry, we are not allowed to leave

members of the public here unattended, because of our bags hellip; rdquo

Her voice trailed of, as my face went the colour of a lsquo;coxes pippin rsquo

(I had noticed them lsquoon special' on the way in) ldquoHow long have you

got? rdquo; she enquired. ldquoHow long for what? rdquo; I answered slightly irritated

at her inferring I had used the facilities for

too long.

ldquoThe baby? rdquo

lsquo; lsquo;Oh yes rdquo;, I patted my sore tum in a maternal way. ldquo;It's due next

December rdquo; I lied and ran out. In a quick calculation I realised my

story made me a week gone. I bet that put the poor girl off motherhood

for life!

I have been back, and have tried to avoid the girl, but she always

manages to be my allocated packer. I am waiting for the day she asks

me if it was a boy or a girl.

I have a lsquo;Can't Wait' card now which should avoid this type of fiasco.

Sunday, 3 July 2011

stoma envy

I had a very pleasant lunch with a fellow ostomypatient recently we had been in hospital together over a year ago having various lengthsof our bowels removed , we had plenty to talk about ,and excitedly shared newsontoilet habits, pooconsistency, and bag preference,she the 2 piece, me the cap/ pouch. Atone point Ifurtivelyslippedone out of my handbag to show her how discreetit looks,a year on,Ireally have got to the point of not caring what other people think.It was as much as I could restrain my self from squirting the release spray ,whipping of the bag,andshowingher the stoma, (you show me yours ,and I will show you mine) my friend did comment that the ones in the stoma magazines always looked lsquo;quite neat 'whilst hers did stick out somewhat,and Icomplained that mine looked like a load of old chewed up bubble gum. We both laughed at the sweet little rose buds we had seen in the instruction manuals we both think they had to look far and wide for that one! I call it lsquo;stoma envy. rsquo

We both spoke about the impact the change in our body'shad on our personal relationships and we both had the same anxiety that men would be lsquo;put off', for both of us,this was not the case. My ostomy friend said the most pertinent thing over that lunch,that her partner lsquoloves'her stoma. Why is that I asked,? lsquo;Quite simple',she replied because lsquo;it had saved her life'.

I am thinking of giving my stoma a name afterthat,and Iam looking at it in a differentway,it saved my life too,and although we are not picking out curtains yet,we are defiantly getting along better.

I did have a bit of a strange moment in a MacDonald's last week when standing at the toilet as you do as a bag wearer , a woman would never have reason to stand facingthe bowl.Unless she was in the transition processof having another operation, whic his a differen tspecialist area to this magazine.

I was using the disabled toilet,as is my privilege these days,when a child slid the entire length of the door back on me to reveal aqueueof people gawping in, mid lsquo;wipe and stick' I really did not know the protocol in this event, so I apologised to every one and asked the child to slide the door back.

I am learning to laugh more; Idon't think I even blushed.

Iam going to give you some useful tips on what really helped me when I had my operation next time.

Thursday, 28 April 2011

3rd blogg, my life revolves around poo

Who made that smell?

It wasn't till my last leaving do that I realised what an impact the Crohns must have had on the team, we were all a bit tipsy, people had started to get tired emotional and sharing more feelings about fellow colleagues than they ought. One of the senior managers announced that she,' had just about enough of the dirty so and so who had come in to work every morning to do their morning ablutions in the staff toilet', she went on, lsquo;I don't know how the person involved can live with themselves, making lsquo;that smell' in the staff toilet every morning!' Well I am gone now, they have probably worked out that it was me. People don't realise the urgency that IBD causes, I just can't help it there is no option but to go. I was always the sort of girl who wouldn't use a friends toilet or a public conveneance and would always wait till I got home to go to number 2's.

In light of all this, I wrote a small poem and on visit back to work I stuck it inside the loo door, I hope it made a few of them smile. I really did spend a lot of time in that toilet with the broken extractor fan, scalding hot water and cracked Armitage Shanks.

Toilet fear

I apologise, in 8 hours I cannot contain,

I need to eliminate, at great cost and great pain.

I hope for a small one, I'll conceal the drop,

I'll mask the wind, cough over the plop.


I'll run the tap, I'll hum a song,

I promise to cover the nasty pong.

Where is Ruth now, where is she?

lsquo;She's in the loo , she's having a pee rsquo

Yes , lsquo;just having a pee' she lied through her teeth,

As she peers in the loo at what lies beneath.

A squirt of the freshener, poor little me,

Such an art to work with this IBD.

Perplexed I stand, I wait inside,

I sit on the loo, I hover and hide.

I flap my arm's, re flush the pan,

I re- run the tap I waft and I fan.

Where is Ruth?, lsquo;she is having a wee'.

I'm not, I'm out, I'm finished, it's free!!

In terms of the colonoscopy I don't have the biopsy results back but I am told there was mild inflammation, this was not the news I was hoping for, as based on this result I will find out if I can have the stoma reversed .

Next time lsquo;stoma envy 'why does your stoma looks like a rose bud? but mine looks like 6 chewed up bubble gums?, Also lets compare and contrast bag sizes, do I really have to wear a bag which a gold fish could be comfortably transported in?

Oh, thanks again so much for sharing these insights. We all have been in similar situations but maybe not seen the funny side. Instead of feeling down about situations we've found ourselves in, let's take a page from this lady's book and see the witty side. Laughter is indeed the best medicine....except immediately after surgery! LOL! ;-) Just wish we lived a little closer so we could meet up and get a daily dose of laughs! Thanks again for sharing!

Woweee darlz, I hope you're off the Tramadol. I was SUPER WOMAN for 3 years on that stuff, and on here my posts were all over the place. Considering I was on the liquid Tramal for referred pain, as I'm told from a few operations, 2000mg. I can't believe I'm still alive... But I enjoyed your blog, diary, whichever one. Great humor, just the way I like it. Hey, why don't you do a DVD or talking book thingy? Oh, if you do, I want in! Lolol. Cheers! And yes, still on pain meds, from one pit into another, hoping not... xxMooza

Top 5 Collections

Thank you for your kind comments. I finally got off the Tramadol by going on the dissolvable one and taking out 5ml every week. It took 3 months, but I am finally free of the stuff. What a nightmare. I feel like I was living in an emotional fog. Lovely to hear from you xx

Sunny, I am sitting here chuckling, thank God for a sense of humor. I recently had to go for an interview to see if I was fit for work. I tried to explain my situation to the person doing the interview, how difficult it would be for me to work currently with a stoma and 6 holes in my abdomen from two rectovaginal fistulas until they repair them. He wasn't amused to hear that. I currently think if he stuck a hose up my backside, I'd make a very good water feature! But not fit for much else currently. Thanks for the smile. Star

Words of Encouragement from Ostomy Advocates I Hollister

I just read funny blogs about poo stuff I've written -- I love your thinking!!!! I'd love to buy denim printed bags, or Christmas bags, etc. And who does that guy from Coloplast think he's kidding when he says there is no profit in medical stuff????? I wonder what HIS annual salary is?? His profit sharing???? His 'benefits' ??!!!!! And, I wonder what his e-mail address is ----- I wonder what he'd have to say if he suddenly got all these requests for denim colored bags Xmas decorated bags????!!!!!

Am continuing to read your other blogs. Got a chuckle out of your looking for the mystery shit and about your friend digging through your garbage. I'm always afraid that the skunks or raccoons, or ????? will dump over my garbage and dig through, leaving out a soiled bag, etc. on my driveway for all to see. Fortunately, my garbage is picked up at 7:30 a.m. -- but -- if the garbage guys leave it lying on my driveway........ I rarely go out to the end of my driveway until about 2 pm to pick up my various garbage/recycling containers!!! I'm not shy about telling people about my bag --- but I wouldn't want them to actually SEE the ugly side of it!!!!!

Great to read your comments. Thank you. I agree they must be raking it in, no competitors and they must be cheap to make. I will email him again asking him for more validation for his decision.

I think they should make female bags with lace covers in pretty colours with bows and fancy trim, and the guys could be animal prints. With what we pay for them, we should have something better, right?

Very clever and entertaining, yet real and truly relatable...... I loved it!! Thanks for the smiles, Sunny.... Keep them coming!! Good luck and great health always my friend. Sincerely appreciative, BEG

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