10

10

Fucking hell, 10 years... 10 long years with this shit bag. I say long as if it's been a chore but it hasn't, I mean sometimes it's fucking annoying and shit (literally, bet you weren't expecting that) like tonight for example, I had a leak and I've now spent a good few hours crying about it, probably cos I am a fucking wet lettuce and boo over EVERYTHING. I swear once something makes you cry, you just can't stop. that was me this evening. also, the skin around my bag is so fucking sore I just want to fucking air it out to gain some kind of comfort, but what I will also gain is shit everywhere and I don't fancy that, thanks.

If you're new to my blogs you have probably notice a small amount of swearing... I type how I talk and I have a potty mouth, so you just have to deal with it (or do one).

I'm really shit with my blog as you can probably kind of tell. I used to be well into it but this was before I realised the IBD community is cliquey as shit so it kinda put me off. I lost the motivation to blog and it just fizzled out... so I come back every so often to shout my mouth off about my shit bag and bore you all to tears with my rambling.

Oi so 10 years ago on Jan 14th I was wheeled into theatre so they could see what the hell was going on with my guts, at this point I hadn't eaten in 10 days so I was skeletal and weak (bit of backstory- I had been in hospital since the 4th Jan, they didn't know what to bloody do with me, I wasn't having the greatest time of it, they thought starving me and then opening me up was the best thing to do) Cos I hadn't eaten in 10 days I was craving milkshakes so bad and bagels, pom bears too, all the good stuff clearly. A few days or a week after I had surgery my friends Amy & Amy came to visit me and bought me bagels and Philadelphia, life savers!! I was so thankful for this.

Anyway back to the surgery, I remember asking my surgeon if he was going to cut a massive square out of my stomach, dunno what his answer was cos I was lights out by this point. You're gonna think I'm doo-lally but I had this weeeird experience during surgery- I could hear loads of screaming and shouting, I felt like I was being pulled up by my neck and was choking on something, I thought my friends had come to get me and were trying to put a fag in my gob?! turns out I died on the operating table, so I dunno if this was some kind of weird near death experience thing?? I don't even know if I believe in all that stuff so fuck knows what was going on, was bloody weird though.

I remember waking up in ICU, it looked well cool from what I remember, like loads of blue lights, really dim and relaxing, somewhere I would happily chill out to be fair. I had a feeding tube and my wound was open, they were basically airing me out (as best they could with some bandage shit on my wound) cos my large intestine split and it made a bit of a mess. I think I was in there a few days. I remember my dad having to sign papers on my behalf in case I died. MENTAL. (I was so out of it for the entirety of my stay in hospital, I was on so many drugs and morphine which btw is fantastic, so I was hallucinating elves and pixies on my bedside cabinet).

Once I went back to an actual ward I had to have physiotherapy so I could learn to walk again, I was so thin and weak I really struggled to get going, it was really frustrating. I don't remember when they actually told me about the bag and what happened, I do know that I took it really fucking well, having a bag didn't phase me, I wasn't upset about having one, I didn't think 'this is the worst thing ever' bla bla, I fucking knew that this thing saved my life! It also helped knowing about colostomies and ileostomies even before my surgery, I think if I had no clue about them I would've taken a completely different turn.

I knew as soon as the drs gave me a leaflet about stomas that I wanted to help other people with theirs, mostly younger people as the leaflet was aimed at the older generation.. which is great for them but not a 21 year old woman! I wanted others my age with a stoma to still be able to feel good about themselves and maybe even be more confident than they were before the bag! That's why I started blogging. This was all before IG was even a thing so I couldn't go around searching hashtags and shit like that so I made a Tumblr blog and reached out to people.

I wont lie though, I have fucking hated my bag sometimes, my skin is so sore all of the time and it is prone to leaks, especially at the most inconvenient times, for example- on my way to work, it literally went all the way down my leg, soaked into my pants and seeped through so YOU COULD SEE THIS GIANT WET PATCH, EVERYWHERE! I was so pissed off I cried all the way home, I felt absolutely vile and dirty. Another example, my boyfriend and I were having sex and it decided this was the perfect time to leak, surprisingly not a mood killer... not sure if my boyfriend is secretly into shit or just likes me enough to deal with it hahah. It also leaked on the tube, fucking pain in the arse it is. I still like it though, it's great really.

There are times when I really wish I had a 'normal' stomach, one with no scars and no bag. I'm not the biggest fan of my body, who is really but I am trying to be kinder to myself. I should appreciate myself more, I know this. It all comes down to vanity really, I know deep down there's nothing wrong with my stomach, I had life saving surgery for fuck sake and I'm over here worrying about a few scars??? I know I'm stupid. The feeling comes in waves, half the time I couldn't give a fuck anyway.
I have to say though I can't think of anything worse than shitting out of my arse, it seems weird and alien to me now, I dunno how you normal people do it.

Thanks for reading my rambles.
Roll on the next 10 years with my stoma.