Today is about celebrating our difference as IBD, ostomy, JPouch, KPouch, resection patients. Today is about loving who we are either DESPITE our diseases and surgeries or BECAUSE of our diseases and surgeries. It's completely up to you.
I'm one who loves myself because of my disease and ileostomy. I can't help but be proud of who I've become through fighting Crohn's because it's made me a stronger, more resilient person. My compassion for others has grown because of my disease. I can relate to those who are fighting different diseases because I know what it's like to go through medications like candy and live in the hospital. Two things I'm not exactly proud of, but they've taught me to appreciate life. Life can, so easily, be taken for granted. However, through Crohn's, I've found every reason to enjoy every, single moment in my life.
Now, back to my embarrassing stories, and I'm, honestly, hoping you get a kick out of these because I laugh about them now. At first, not so much...
I'll start with a very awkward moment after my first surgery, in October of 2010:
I had, unfortunately, caught a nasty flu that was going around when I came home in late November. My bag was filling completely every 20-30 minutes. I was still on pain medicine, and I couldn't stay awake to keep myself hydrated or empty my bag often enough, two ingredients in the recipe for accident/leak disaster. Anyway, earlier in the night, I had gotten up, with my fiance's help, to go to the bathroom. I was so severely dehydrated that I couldn't empty my own bag and passed out sitting on the toilet. Matt was concerned, wanting to take me to the hospital or dial 911. I convinced him that I would be fine as long as I could rehydrate myself and stay awake, ingredient three. I failed to do either. Around 5:00 am, I woke up to find my bag filled to the brim with diarrhea. Not wanting to wake Matt, I decided that I'd get up on my own, empty my bag, and return to the couch without waking him, bad idea. I stood up and passed out. The force of my body hitting the livingroom floor caused my bag to disconnect from the two-piece system. You guessed it, I covered the couch, livingroom floor, my dog's toys and treats, and the blankets in stool. Matt, luckily, was saved from any flying matter. I cried my eyes out, suddenly aware and embarassed of the situation. Matt was kind, cleaned up the mess and got me settled. Being stubborn, it was 3 more days before I went to the hospital. I was very sick, severely dehydrated, and lucky that I didn't cause more permanent damage to my body.
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| A leak I had the other night that went under the radar for a few hours |
I think that we can all agree that we hate leaks when it comes to our appliance. They can be embarrassing if they happen in public, annoying if not caught in time, and aggravating because it seems like such a waste of supplies. Well, here's one leak that I'll never forget:
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| Jackson-Pratt Drain |
After surgery, I developed a hematoma along my stitches where the surgeon had removed large skin tags and sewed my anus shut. The hematoma became infected and began to leak into my pelvic cavity. I had to have a Jackson-Pratt drain placed to drain my pelvic cavity of the accumulating infectious fluid. It's placed in radiology and requires sedation because a tube is placed through the muscle into the area that needs to be drained. Then, a negative suction allows the fluid to flow through the tube into the drain that the patient empties regularly. Sounds a lot worse than it is, trust me. Anyway, about a week before Christmas, my JP drain malfunctioned. The negative suction had been compromised due to a leak in the line. I was in some of the worst pain I've ever been in because infectious fluid was building in my pelvic cavity. I went in to see my IBD nurse, who immediately sent me down to radiology for a replacement JP drain. My fiance's dad, Scott, who had taken me was in for a surprise because we had not expected the problem to be taken care of so quickly. My JP drain was replaced, and I went home still in an excrutiatingly large amount of pain. It was hard to walk, let alone sit; so I made myself comfortable at Matt's parent's home on their couch. That night, I took some Tylenol 3 and fell asleep. To my surprise, I awoke the next morning covered in stool. I had slept through the night, neglecting to get up and empty my bag. My bag had leaked, covering myself, the couch, and the blankets I had in stool. I woke up Matt's mom to tell her, my exact words, "I pooped on the couch." Again, I was crying. Just like Matt, Judy got up and cleaned the couch, even helping me to get myself together. Sadly, I ended up with MRSA from having the JP drain replaced and ended up in the hospital right before Christmas.
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| Matthew and I in Kentucky at the Falls |
Last but, certainly, not least, I'll share a story about having an accident before I had surgery. I know it's quite common for IBD patients to have accidents, but until this accident, I had been very discreet about accidents. I'd carry extra clothing and underwear to make sure people wouldn't know that I'd crapped myself if it did happen. However, I will say that I'm glad this accident happened in mixed company because guys tend to "shart" quite often:
My fiance had agreed to watch a friend's house for the week while they were out of town. My brother was in town from Kentucky, and Matt and I thought it'd be a good idea for the 3 of us to just chill and catch up. After work, I picked up my brother and headed about an hour south of town to this house in the country. For dinner, we decided to go into town; which was about 30 or more minutes away. After dinner, we stopped at Walgreen's to get socks and PJs; I hadn't brought anything to the house because I had to go home in the morning to meet my visiting nurse for my Cimzia injection. I was, also, on Methotrexate at the time. Matt and Bryon bought a case of beet at the local liquor store, and we started to drive to Matt's friend's house. About 15 minutes into the ride, sitting in the middle of the truck, I realized that I had to go to the bathroom, NOW. I told Matthew that he better speed it up, or I was going to crap my pants. My brother, Bryon, and Matt sure got a kick out of me complaining that I wasn't going to be able to hold in my poop. At one point, I even suggested that Matt pull over; so I could just poop on the side of the road. To no avail...I didn't make it home, and I pooped my pants. I was so mad at Matthew because he didn't understand that when I had to go, I had to go. I've realized, now, that it wasn't his fault. If a cop had drove by and seen me pooping on the side of the road, I would've went to jail for indecent exposure; I'd rather poop my pants. Bryon, Matthew, and I just laugh about it now.
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| Bryon and I |
As you can see, I've had my fair share of embarrassing stories. I've only shared three, but they're three that I'll never forget. Three stories that I, now, share with people because I find them extremely funny. I believe that one of the ways to come to terms with your disease, your ostomy, or your surgery is to find humor in the moments that, sometimes, bring us down. Humor brings happiness into life. If your friends and family see that you can laugh at yourself, your disease, your ostomy, and your surgery, they'll feel more comfortable discussing these things with you. Humor brings about awareness. It's unnecessary that our condition and the treatments associated with it have such a negative stigma because "everybody poops."
If you're comfortable, I'd love to hear some of your "poop stories." Feel free to share them in the comments section below. As IBD patients, we all have them. Be proud of who you are and where you've come from fighting IBD.
Be comfortable. Be sexy. Be you.
PS: Here's a great video from Gut Inspired's celebration of World IBD Day.
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