I tried to post about this last night, but I must have fallen asleep before I could submit it. My husband closed my laptop and put it away.
So here I go again....
In 2008, after a very short, ill-advised ileostomy reversal, which caused me to have to run to the toilet up to and over 30 times a day, getting so dehydrated that my brain would not function until I'd been given at least 3 bags of IV fluid, I overtrained my anal sphincter muscles so that I wouldn't have an accident coming home (the nearest small town is a half-hour trip in the car, and the nearest city, Hamilton, is an hour's drive from our home). I'd tightened those muscles so tight that hardly anything would leak through.
I was utterly thrilled when I got Mount Vesuvius back!!
But they attempted to clean out my rectal stump after the surgery, but it was not very successful.... Eight years later, after having what my doctors called phantom pain in my anus - the rectal stump is 4 cm long, and from what I can recall, it is called a Hartmann's procedure.
Anyway, I started having terrible diarrhea-type pain in my anus, but whenever I tried to get the mucus and the sloughed-off lining out (which I discovered was like candle wax), it wasn't until everything eventually turned to liquid that it came out, smelling rather bad, but white and creamy in color.
My surgical specialist sent me to a physiotherapist who specializes in helping people tighten their pelvic floor muscles, as well as the anal sphincter muscles - but she came to the conclusion that she could not help me loosen the muscles, although my specialist did suggest giving me a Botox injection in my anus, which I wasn't particularly interested in trying!
A year later, while I'd kept getting phantom pains, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get it out, and eventually my abdomen would get so painful until I began getting tiny diarrhea attacks, which lasted a few days; just a tiny bit at a time.
Over time, it has improved. My GP did give me some tiny enemas; however, my specialist does not want me to use them, as he's worried that I could accidentally perforate my anal stump and then I'd have an entirely new problem on my hands.
I'd been getting some very painful abdominal pain; ten out of ten, over the last few days, which I thought were due to my Klebsiella pneumoniae ESBL infection for which I am getting a daily injection of carbapenem antibiotics in my backside every day, but we began watching a movie, and I realized that I had to rush to the toilet, and for the first time ever I actually managed to get the entire lot out in one diarrhea attack.
My rectum has finally calmed down, and I am feeling so very much better this morning.
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Well, I hit the two year mark. I went back and read my posts from when I first found this site. I was very fortunate in that I stumbled upon it only 4 weeks post op. I have said many times that this community really saved me. The first 2 weeks after my surgery I shut down completely. It wasn't until about the 3rd week that my son came in to my room, flicked on the light and told me I was going to have to get back to living because I was scaring him. I had fallen into such a depression. He ticked me off, but it also made me stop and think- what was I going to do? Feel sorry for myself and sulk, or be grateful I was alive.
I've re-read my journals from that time and it was after my son kicked my butt, so to speak, I took an honest inventory and had to dig deeper than I've ever had to. I mean, I had survived a pretty nasty divorce, after a pretty crappy marriage and that was tough. But this was different. I felt like I was now a handicapped person who would be limited in their life and be looked at as a freak. My mental state was precarious, at best.
But then I found this site. I just lurked a bit before posting. I read so many of the other stories and I started to see just how full my life can be, I was not handicapped, and certainly not a freak! The stories of survival, the sense of humor, the support and compassion was inspiring. It was then I made myself get out of the dark, and get my sh*t together.
Not all rainbows and sunshine at first, hardly! But with grace from myself - to myself, and the kindness and willingness of the folks here to be supportive, non judgemental and openly share intimate details about their life circumstances, l not only survived but thrived.
I think of all the years I had suffered with such extreme pain, barely functioning, and the many hospital stays and how that is all behind me now. (All fingers, toes, and legs crossed that I never have to go near a hospital for myself ever again. I think I'd rather have a fork stuck in my eye. I loathe every about them.)
So, to everyone who has been a part of this journey with me, to say thank you is not enough. I'm forever grateful to know you all. My Angels, each one of you.
And as the Grateful Dead famously said,
"what a long strange trip it's been!"
Im so happy I'm tripping with you all.
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