I FIGURE I WAS BORN TWICE, once when my mother gave birth to me way back when, then again when I came out of recovery after the ileostomy surgery. I was twenty-one that time. I think that surviving after the second birth was the most difficult. The first birth presented me with a blank slate; the second birth a blank slate with obvious, confounding complications. Following the first birth, I was a new baby with parents to take care of my daily needs. With the second birth, I was a new adult forced to forget all that came before and figure out how to deal with a bizarre new reality pretty much on my own. There was, of course, the physical element, the need to regain my strength following a lengthy hospitalization and learn how to manage my ostomy. More complicated was the psychological component, for suddenly I found myself the odd man out, as it were. What should I think about this thing that had happened to me? Was it a curse or a blessing? Without it, I would not have lasted much longer and, I only learned later, had beaten the odds just by surviving the surgery. As it was, Time, the master of us all, permitted me to heal at my own pace. That was so long ago, 1964, and here I still am, typing these words, chewing gum like a teenager, and looking forward to stuffed salmon for dinner. If there’s a lesson here, it is that Time will be your ally, if you allow it to be on your side.
Holy cannoli, Henry!
In 1964, I was a new bride in my very early 20s and did not even know what an ostomy was until some 25 years later…yet there you were at 21 dealing with something I still cannot get over at 82.
As we hear, and I am guilty of, many complaints about products available to us, I cannot even imagine what you and other seasoned ostomates had to deal with back then and how on earth you got answers to all of the many issues and questions you certainly had with an ostomy.
Even in today's world, there are many who have never heard of an ostomy.
It seems to me that most ostomates have either jumped the hurdle of acceptance and moved on or those that stumble as they struggle to overcome each hurdle on this trip (pun intended). Those of us stumblers are fortunate to have found this website and folks like you to help us on our way…thanks to all of you who have taken the time to be ever-so-helpful and understanding to those who stumble both physically and mentally.
As a side note, I am reminded of when I was a young mother and my 13-year-old daughter and I would disagree about something. She would continue to complain, argue, and pout until I would finally say to her….” Go pout your ass off in your bedroom” - what kind of mother would say such a thing…well, one who never heard of an ostomy for sure! jb
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About seven years ago, just about every aspect of my life was ostomy related. From the moment I was told an ostomy might be needed until some months down the road I existed as a person afflicted with a colostomy. I feared someone other than my immediate family might find out I had a bag. Ugh! What could be worse? Suppose it filled real fast when I was out with no place to hide and take care of myself. God forbid should it leak in church! Suppose I roll over on it in bed. I was a lesser creature, destined to a life of emotional anguish and physical routines different from most of the rest of the world. I felt like a freak. Then I found folks like you guys here, read your stuff, really “listened” to what you had to say and I began looking at things differently. We know perception is everything and I began to understand how good things were relative to what they could’ve been. So many folks had it so much worse than I did. That didn’t make my discomfort go away but it exposed how fortunate I was to be dealing with my stuff and not their’s. I felt a little guilt, maybe selfishness but quickly forgave myself by understanding I just wasn’t smart enough to fix my feelings. Then, I wonder what smarts have to do with feelings. My perception was warped so my perspective toward my existence was warped.
I learned over the last few years with the help of lots of folks right here at MAO that I could be better at living just by accepting some facts. It is what it is and so what? It’s not the worst thing to happen to a person.
I think everything is, in some way, related to everything else. I just put the ostomy thing in the back seat and drive forward.
Respectfully,
Mike
Learn more about ostomy accessories, and when to use them.
And you have truly made the most of the time you've been given. Very insightful, Henry. You clearly didn't lose any brain cells during your recent hospital visit.
Terry
Yep ..... It was a challenge when at 25 I had mine .... back in '79 ..... but I did have the benefits of those 'classy new Nordic bags from Dansac ..... they were far cuter than those that had gone before!
Now, I am grateful for black and white silky bags which 'match my underwear!
And many other improvements over time!
I was very fortunate to have a team of vascular surgeons do mine ..... one of whom was known to my family!
Nowadays, specialism rules the day ..... and generally I guess this is great, but it's interesting how, over time, protocols and many elements of medicine and surgical diversity have changed.
Quite an extensive field to navigate at times!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Jayne ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
UK
How to Adjust to Life with an Ostomy with Bruce | Hollister
I know I responded to this post yesterday, but what I really wanted to say is this:
You really knocked it out of the park with this one, Henry. Truly, one of your best posts. The baseball metaphor isn't an accident. I know you are a baseball fan and wrote about it recently, so I just wanted to get in a little dig, as we Canadians, even non-sports fans like me, are jumping on the Blue Jays bandwagon. It's all about us kicking some Yankee ass. I know the odds aren't in their favor, but that's OK. We are proud of our boys.
Terry