In the late 80's, early 90's I began feeling poorly. My MD said I was getting older and was just tired. The ex was getting tired of my pain complaints and lack of energy and said goodby.
After several more visits to the MD he did a procedure that revealed the problem. I had a colonoscopy done but to be sure I took a look myself.
He also recommended a new experimental procedure but after some research I declined.
After several years of the 50 yard dash to the bathroom and several resections I relented and agreed to the dreaded stoma pouch. My social life went to sub zero in no time. My cat pled for me to get out of the house and my dog helped with the housework.
I tried to have a BBQ with other ostomates but no one came. I was feeling ugly and unloved
Now divorced and with the dreaded pouch, one of my dwindling friends suggested that I check out some new women.
This did not go well so he set me up with a woman he said I would be sure to like.
Not to be discriminatory, but I told him that abundance was not my style. He tried again.
I thanked him for his effort but firmly stated that I would find someone on my own. He knew I wouldn't, but if I did it would probably be a country girl.
I was very despondent but a newspsper article got my head straight.
My last friend suggested a new elixir that was a sure fire solution to making new friends but once they found out about the pouch it was, "Sorry Charlie!"
I accept the situation and am comfortible with being alone. Now I just go the the beach with some cheap sunscreen and get a tan.
That was my story, what's yours?
After several more visits to the MD he did a procedure that revealed the problem. I had a colonoscopy done but to be sure I took a look myself.
He also recommended a new experimental procedure but after some research I declined.
After several years of the 50 yard dash to the bathroom and several resections I relented and agreed to the dreaded stoma pouch. My social life went to sub zero in no time. My cat pled for me to get out of the house and my dog helped with the housework.
I tried to have a BBQ with other ostomates but no one came. I was feeling ugly and unloved
Now divorced and with the dreaded pouch, one of my dwindling friends suggested that I check out some new women.
This did not go well so he set me up with a woman he said I would be sure to like.
Not to be discriminatory, but I told him that abundance was not my style. He tried again.
I thanked him for his effort but firmly stated that I would find someone on my own. He knew I wouldn't, but if I did it would probably be a country girl.
I was very despondent but a newspsper article got my head straight.
My last friend suggested a new elixir that was a sure fire solution to making new friends but once they found out about the pouch it was, "Sorry Charlie!"
I accept the situation and am comfortible with being alone. Now I just go the the beach with some cheap sunscreen and get a tan.
That was my story, what's yours?