Hello,
I am new to this and I didn't expect to be writing my thoughts on a blog such as this, however God has a strange way of changing our paths to that which we never expected. I recently had ileostomy surgery and it was not planned. I had been hospitalized and was in so much pain that for some reason a surgeon came by my room and saw how much pain I was in and explained that this may be the only way to relieve any of it. Now don't get me wrong, when I was first diagnosed with Crohn's in 2005, I was informed that there was a surgery that could be done but it might not solve the issue and my understanding was that it could be permanent. This was not something that I would have ever agreed to. However, I am now 27 and I guess due to the amount of pain I was in, the superficial side of me must have gone to the nearest corner and decided to let me make the best choice for me at the time. I turned 27 in pain and in the hospital. I can't remember anything but all the pain. On my birthday, I do remember that I felt especially awful that I didn't get to enjoy it with friends and family the way I wanted to. I just shut everyone, including light (strange thing, I was very sensitive to light), out and didn't want to do anything but lay there and hope that the pain would finally subside. I was hospitalized a second time after having the surgery and spent a week in the hospital and that was enough for me. I decided that I needed to move on from this and requested to be released. I was tired of being poked, prodded, and observed with very little help to get over the pain I was feeling, physically and mentally, being in the hospital and not being able to do the work that I enjoy or have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. I just wanted my life back. I still want my life back. I want to be able to wear what I want without issue or worrying about if people are looking at my bag or can smell what is filling up inside it. I wish I knew what I was doing. I wish I knew how to be okay with this. I wish I knew how to push insecurities aside and just forget about it. But each time I move, I realize that it's there. Each morning, I struggle because I know that I have extra steps to take before I can shower and when going out, I am constantly worried that someone will think I'm hiding something under my clothing. Is that weird? I don't know. I just wish I knew someone who understands what I am going through right now in this moment. Someone I can talk to about it and not feel like I'm grossing them out or sharing too much. But I guess it is what it is. Everything happens for a reason, right? So I might as well live the life I was given. Right.
I am new to this and I didn't expect to be writing my thoughts on a blog such as this, however God has a strange way of changing our paths to that which we never expected. I recently had ileostomy surgery and it was not planned. I had been hospitalized and was in so much pain that for some reason a surgeon came by my room and saw how much pain I was in and explained that this may be the only way to relieve any of it. Now don't get me wrong, when I was first diagnosed with Crohn's in 2005, I was informed that there was a surgery that could be done but it might not solve the issue and my understanding was that it could be permanent. This was not something that I would have ever agreed to. However, I am now 27 and I guess due to the amount of pain I was in, the superficial side of me must have gone to the nearest corner and decided to let me make the best choice for me at the time. I turned 27 in pain and in the hospital. I can't remember anything but all the pain. On my birthday, I do remember that I felt especially awful that I didn't get to enjoy it with friends and family the way I wanted to. I just shut everyone, including light (strange thing, I was very sensitive to light), out and didn't want to do anything but lay there and hope that the pain would finally subside. I was hospitalized a second time after having the surgery and spent a week in the hospital and that was enough for me. I decided that I needed to move on from this and requested to be released. I was tired of being poked, prodded, and observed with very little help to get over the pain I was feeling, physically and mentally, being in the hospital and not being able to do the work that I enjoy or have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. I just wanted my life back. I still want my life back. I want to be able to wear what I want without issue or worrying about if people are looking at my bag or can smell what is filling up inside it. I wish I knew what I was doing. I wish I knew how to be okay with this. I wish I knew how to push insecurities aside and just forget about it. But each time I move, I realize that it's there. Each morning, I struggle because I know that I have extra steps to take before I can shower and when going out, I am constantly worried that someone will think I'm hiding something under my clothing. Is that weird? I don't know. I just wish I knew someone who understands what I am going through right now in this moment. Someone I can talk to about it and not feel like I'm grossing them out or sharing too much. But I guess it is what it is. Everything happens for a reason, right? So I might as well live the life I was given. Right.