A 3-part essay.
Hello, readers of ostomy blog! How was YOUR Labor Day weekend? Ok, enough about you, this is my blog here & I call the shots. My Labor Day weekend was truly amazing... until Sunday. Yeah. I had one good day of dancing, laughing, Hannah Montana-filled fun, then... kersplat went my weekend.
PART 1: SUNDAY
Sunday morning I woke up, expecting it to be like any other morning. It's 9:00 a.m. and I'm out of bed. I go in to the bathroom and empty my too-full ostomy bag. I wash my hands & face, brushed my teeth, put eyedrops in, & I'm ready to go. Not so much. This Sunday was unlike any other Sunday since June 11th. Why? Because the first and most important thing was simply not there: there was absolutely nothing, nada, not a single droplet of any poo in my ostomy bag. So, being me, I flipped. I cried. I told my mommy. I took the bag off. And when I took the bag off, expecting to see a perky, slimy, happy pink Stomey (that's what I call my stoma, of course), in its place was a stoma that was small, tucked in to my skin, almost purplish, and giving out no output. Until today, I had no idea what an emotional attatchment I had grown to Stomey. But when I saw it in there, all sad and tucked in and not working, I seriously started bawling. Seeing my stoma like that made me really upset. So I went into the bath for like an hour. Nothing. Then I stayed in the shower for half an hour. Still nothing. My mom & I didn't put a bag on, to let my skin & stoma breathe a little. Around four-ish, still, nothing was coming out. My mommy called the doctor & then off I went to my favorite place, Baptist Hospital.
PART 2: THE DIAGNOSIS
I went to the ER where EVERYONE asked me, "What's wrong with your eye?" Um hello, NOT the reason I'm here. I have a small bowel obstruction, people!! "It must be herpes type whatever. The non-STD one." WHO THE HELL CARES?!? I'M IN CRITICAL CONDITION AND ALL YOU BIGSHOT ER DOCTORS CARE ABOUT IS MY STUPID EYE? So, yeah. My eye looked pretty screwed up. Finally, Dr. Sola, who's not as good as Dr. Thompson but still really nice & doctor-y & stuff, came in and stuck this, like, 3-foot-long catheter thing in my stoma. I didn't even feel it. Then that night more output came in to the bag, so I was really happy about that. The next day Jake, Laura, & Peggy came and then Laura and Peggy left to talk to my much more exciting mom. And Jake stayed with me. And even though I probably bored him half to death, with ALL MY TALKING AND STUFF, he was awesome like always. I was taken in to a real room, & Dr. Thompson was there that day so he came to see me. I got a CT Scan & an x-ray, which showed I had extra scar tissue right up against my stoma which could be dangerous if left alone. He told me he'd know what to do later that day & left. We love him.
PART 3: UNDER THE KNIFE AGAIN
At around 2, Ana, one of the greatest nurses to walk the face of the Earth, came in and drew blood. Which was very painful to Casey because they used numbing cream, which I hate with a passion ever since my vein completely blew from an IV area that had been numbed. (Update: This latest vein officially blew, too. It's totally bruised.) I asked her what was going on and she told me Dr. Thompson had decided to do surgery to remove any extra scar tissue & stitch up... the leak in my pouch. Damn. I thought maybe, just maybe, he would do an all-in-one or something. That day at 4 p.m. I was in pre-op waiting for anesthesia. Last thing I remember the nurse was saying, "This will make you very...." and then boom, I was out. When I woke up the inside of my butt hurt like crazy, but there was so much drainage in the bag that I didn't care. I was fixed! And more importantly, my stoma was back to its perky self. I love you, Stomey!
How much longer till the FUN surgery?!,