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.

The worst blogger of the year award goes to... me

I woke up this morning and had an urge to write a blogpost, funny really considering the last time I posted was in 2017, Dec 1st to be exact- seems to be this time of year that I overthink and all these feelings about my bag flood my brain all at once.
I often think so much about my bag and how people perceive me and others with them, do they think we are dirty? That we smell? That we are disgusting?

When I was single I often wondered how men would react about it, if they were grossed out by it, if I was attractive enough to be with, even though all it is, is a little bag on my stomach... I mean yeah it’s full of shit but then aren’t most men, so why should I care so much? I actually found that men aren’t bothered by it. I always worried that I would get a pity shag or a “Oi I shagged a girl with a shit bag” type brag, cos it’s not the norm. Is brag the right word? I’m not sure, you know what I mean.
Sleeping with someone new for the first time can be nerve wracking enough, especially if you don’t particularly like your body and have a bag of shite just hanging off your tum.
When I first started speaking to my boyfriend I dropped the “bombshell” as soon as possible, I wanted to get it out the way as I worried that it would be a problem, I dunno why I think this y’know, I think where I have a low opinion of myself I just assume others will too and they will be put off, so that’s why I needed to get it out there ASAP. Funny thing is he told me he knew about the bag anyway because he stalked my Instagram occasionally (This is cute right?).
it’s weird, sometimes I get so in my head I think I should be grateful that someone wants to be with me even though I have a bag, THIS SHOULDN'T EVEN MATTER! I piss myself off over thinking this shit. It is JUST a stoma bag, it’s not a big deal, it doesn’t make me any less loveable. I need to remember that my bag doesn’t even come into it.

When I first started blogging I was this positive, body confident person, I wanted to raise awareness and show that young people with bags are still confident and attractive- fast forward 7 years and I lost my confidence and started to hate my body and everything about myself, I was never one for talking about my feelings.. I still struggle now. I started therapy in 2017, I was very down, I struggled with my head and liking my body, I gained a little weight, which isn’t the end of the world but when you feel uncomfortable, unattractive and disgusting it’s really hard- add a shit bag to the mix and it makes things worse, you hate your body even more. I mean I’m speaking for myself here and not everyone with a stoma bag, however I do know people who feel a similar way, it really is a difficult thing to get used to, your body changes so much, it affects your mental health and I am sick to death of pretending that I am still this body posi person, I have low self esteem and it is draining. I am getting better with that though, I’m trying to be kinder to and about myself, with the help of my lovely IG stalker boyfriend.

I think the reason why I have constantly been thinking about my bag is because I’ve had a few issues with it recently. I keep having leaks and my skin is so sore. I had a really bad leak recently whilst I was walking to work, which resulted in me having to turn around and go home as it had seeped through my trousers and went everywhere, I cried all the way home. My skin has been so sore and itchy which makes me fuckin miserable. I know these issues are so minor in comparison to other people and their problems but fucking hell sometimes we can’t help but pity ourselves and wallow in misery. I think it’s the time of year as well, it’s difficult.

People hit me with the “you’re so brave” line, which is really kind of them but honestly, I’m not. It’s something I’ve had to get on and deal with. There are people who go through shit that’s so much worse who actually are brave, not me with my pain in the arse shitbag. I’m just grateful that it saved my life and made me feel better, now I’ve just got to work on being nicer about myself and my bag, WIP init.

P.S. vote labour on the 12th December, save the NHS, we NEED it, it’s amazing and sadly heavily underfunded. No normal working person can afford these life saving surgeries and treatments, it’s so important that we vote for a party that fucking cares and wants to help NORMAL people. Fuck the Tories, fuck whoever supports that shit. Bunch o’ cunts.

The 7 Year Shit.

The 7 Year Shit

(Just to clarify, I haven't been holding in a massive shit for 7 years)

I wanted to write a blog post for my up and coming 7 year 'Bagiversary' which is either on January 14th or 16th-I can't quite remember as I was doped up to my eyeballs on morphine, so yeah we'll go with one of those.

I am prone to only writing posi posts about my bag which is mental cos I am a "glass half empty" kinda person. I say so often that it's not that bad having a bag, but fucking hell-there are some proper shite times with it too, especially in the beginning. This isn't a post to scare anyone who may have to have a stoma one day but I want to be REAL and give TMI, I don't care! We all shit, there's nothing I won't answer, yet people get too scared to ask, please don't be! I sure as hell appreciate the questions and I bet others with a stoma do too (and those without who are feeling nosey).

•  My recovery was awful, I was a miserable bitch because I felt like this wasn't something I could deal with. I had to learn to walk again which was the most exhausting thing EVER. I was crying constantly, my wound became infected so my dressings had to be changed daily. It was physically and mentally draining.

• There was a lack of awareness 7 years ago, well I certainly felt like there was anyway-the leaflets they gave me in hospital were focused mainly on old people, which is great for them, they have all this to hand but for a 21 year old woman, christ it was depressing. This is why social media is fucking fantastic-there are so many Facebook groups all willing to help and i am lucky enough to be buds with some beautiful bag ladies on the internet (Dan, Molly, Summer-hey gals! mwah) Instagram and the hashtags are a great way to reach out. Young people are becoming more open about their stomas, I love it!


• My body changed and I thought I was disgusting (Just to be clear, I never thought this about other ostomates, it was just a personal thing to adjust to) I lost 4 stone in weight and was skeletal, my body changed so much in such a short space of time, It was so much get to my head around. I lost all my curves and ended up with a saggy butt (lol) which I didn't realise at the time haha.

• The skin around my stoma is sore pretty much 98% of the time. This is due to the acid in my waste, so nice huh? It also gets sore where the collar of the bag sits on my skin and can sometimes rub at the bottom, this is worse in the summer as it can get sweaty, which isn't fun but then when is poo ever fun (don't answer if you have some weird fetish, thanks).


• The dreaded Night Time leaks. Thankfully this doesn’t happen on a nightly or weekly basis, but when it does it’s a pain in the arse! Having to clean up whilst half asleep and having poo literally run down your leg, create a puddle on the floor and have your boyfriend come in and witness this is not really how you wanna spend your night (not that he or I care but the puddle was fucking GRIM, EVEN I FELT SICK)!


• BLOCKAGES - I fucking hate them. They happen when I’ve been a moron and not chewed my food properly. I have a watery output and sickness, my legs start cramping as i’m loosing salt through my output and I feel like shit, I have to empty my bag around 5/6 times in an hour… and people assume I save on loo roll? No!

I don’t want to be too negi, but these are a few things I have dealt with and will continue to in the future. My bag IS 100% the best thing that has ever happened to me because without it I would be dead (that is a fact and not me being a misery) and you all wouldn’t be able to read my wonderful yet ridiculous Facebook status’ about poo and the all the comments that come with it, ha! It has made me appreciate my body just that little bit more, what it can go through and deal with, its crazy! However, I am only human so will probably still continue to complain about that extra bit of chub i’ve gained… soz.

Basically, this post was to show the bad/annoying/highly inconvenient as well as the good that I always bang on about-yeah, it is a fucking good thing, it’s a brilliant thing in all honesty - I LITERALLY SHIT INTO A BAG. A BAG. It's so odd if you really think about it. I have never really been about the norm anyway, it’s no biggie. I think that’s why I adjusted well to it quite quickly, it’s not the end of the world, it can give you a whole new lease of life, at least now I won’t be rushing to the loo in fear of shitting myself!

xo