IT HAS ALWAYS PUZZLED ME why people drink too much or do recreational drugs. Perhaps it’s what cartoonist Bill Watterson quipped in his ‘Calvin and Hobbes’ series: “Reality continues to ruin my life.” I’ve never desired to escape reality. It may occasionally piss me off, or cause me anxiety, but one has to just deal with it. It is what it is, as some say. It is life. I was in the hospital this past week due to dehydration and spent a couple of days on IVs. I knew that I had to change my ileostomy appliance while there, since the timing sucked, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. The IV was making my discharge not only constant but liquidy. I figured I’d have a mess on my hands. Something told me, just after 3 AM the third morning, that I might have a brief output respite of which to take advantage. I got my stuff out, laid it beside the bathroom sink, whipped the old one off and slapped a clean one on, wham, bam, I’ll be damned, I finished in a couple of minutes and didn’t discharge a drop. My stoma behaved like a good little boy. The dreaded ‘reality’ I’d expected never materialized. I don’t know if the “something told me” aspect of it all was mere luck, the product of an experienced hunch, or maybe just a little bit of each. Mr. Reality, as we all know, gets his kicks with us sometimes.

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Talking about having an ostomy can be uncomfortable for most people. Still, it's something you can't always avoid.
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Learn about some strategies that can make it easier to talk about your stoma.