They’ve taken my colon!

I began this post with the intent of “journaling” my surgery adventure. Upon deep reflection of today’s emotions, I have decided to go in a different direction. I hope you’ll allow me a few moments of frustration. PLEASE also allow me to tell you guys that this post MAY contain a few “graphic” details related to IBD. Do not be surprised if you might read something that makes your stomach turn. If you cannot handle the details of inflammatory bowel diseases, turn back now and DO NOT keep reading.

Me heavily medicated the day after surgery.
 
Tuesday afternoon I woke up with no colon. Wait, what?! Yeah, so I woke up from surgery with no colon. Yes, I understand that this is the whole reason I went into surgery in the first place. We removed the disease that is my colon. The surgeon actually confirmed today that the pathology report came back looking really good! No cancer or other cause for concern and that I do indeed have Ulcerative Colitis and NOT Crohn’s Disease. I am being moved to a different floor tomorrow because I’m doing so well! The surgeon says that I am “ahead of the game” as far as that goes!!! I could even be out of the hospital as early as Saturday. The ostomy nurse I had today was awesome (yay Jacque!) and I also have to give a big shout out to my nurse today named Andrew who was incredibly helpful and patient today! Yay for good news! All that being said, I have some angry things to say…
 
I am frustrated. Here’s why:
 
My life will never be the same. This will be a huge adjustment.
 
I cannot “poop” like a normal person. I now must wear a bag outside of my abdomen. A bag that is connected to my small intestine (called a stoma – AKA “Peeves”) that sputters, spits and creates a disgusting mess. It is literally driving me crazy. I realize that this is supposed to be only temporary, but it is still frightening.
 
I am frustrated because I currently have a catheter. I cannot pee on my own.
 
I am frustrated because I cannot shower on my own.
 
I am frustrated because I have NO privacy… I’m being asked all kinds of personal questions. I have to re-learn how to take care of myself (thank you ostomy!). I’m being examined and checked out. I’m practically walking around half-naked all the time.
 
I am a very independent person. I am stubborn as a mule and hate feeling “helpless.” I cannot get into bed without help. I cannot get out of bed without help. I am strapped to my bed because of the compression machine socks. 
 
I am SOMETIMES in immobilizing pain (thank you, surgery).
 
I am experiencing extreme anxiety.
 
I am frustrated because my veins keep “blowing out.” I’ve been turned into a human pincushion and at the moment I have been stuck with needles a total of 11 times that I know of… and probably more.
 
If anyone (including myself) touches my belly, it triggers a powerfully painful muscle spasm throughout my abdomen. This has never happened before. 
 
I realize I’m pretty much rambling… but this is it… this is the real ninja… coming to you feeling helpless. Unsure of herself. I don’t know what the heck I’m doing attempting to take care of this ostomy… I tried to clean it out tonight with the help of another nurse who barely has experience herself!
 
I can’t cry because it hurts my abdomen.
I can’t laugh because it hurts my abdomen.
 
All I can really say tonight is, “HELP!? I don’t know what I’m doing!”