Hurdling

Last Thursday was exactly a month since I went into the hospital! It feels like ages ago, and also yesterday.

At this point I’ve also had a couple of weeks of regular visits by home care nurses. They’ve been very encouraging and tell me I’ve made great progress on learning the colostomy bag replacement process. Actually, the last time or two I’ve basically done it myself, while the nurses supervise and offer tips and suggestions. It’s a little time-consuming, but not terribly complicated.

The physical process may be coming along well, but the psychological side of things has been going more slowly. At first, while still in hospital, I wasn’t even able to look at my stoma. Once I could do that, it was another hurdle to be able to touch and interact with it. Again, even though it’s a bit of your intestines on the outside of your body, there’s no actual nerve endings there. The most you’ll tend to feel is a bit of pressure from the skin around the stoma rather than any feedback from the thing itself. But there it is, a roughly 1.25″ red thing on my stomach that looks for all the world like a gaping wound. When a nurse or myself would interact with it I kept trying not to flinch away. My mind kept telling me that it should scream with pain, like any other wound would.

But, over time, I’m learning that it’s okay. I mean, don’t be rough with it, but it’s not going to hurt, either. And so I’m heading toward the next hurdle: just…sort of generally being very unhappy about the whole situation. I actually did change my bag myself today (with Lori giving things a quick look over before I started, and being nearby for questions / concerns). While approaching completion, Lori happened past the bathroom and I said aloud what my mind was repeating to me: “I hate this.” Not said in anger, just unhappy resignation.

This one will probably take a bit more time to deal with. Probably quite a while, if I’m honest. At least I can begin to deal with the mechanics of my situation. And, I get to put on some good music when I do it myself.

Otherwise, my healing slowly continues. I keep being surprised by hitting my limits in a day, and feeling exhausted and uncomfortable as a result. We did get to attend church in-person for the first time in ages, and I had a lot of wonderful folks tell me I “looked great” and give hugs. I never used to be a hugger, but tbh it meant a lot today.

People! They can be pretty nice, it turns out! And sometimes they bring you delicious baking that’s shaped like the first letters of your family’s names: