I’ve had this colostomy deal for three whole months now and, as far as I can tell, I haven’t written about farting at all. That ends today >:(
Rude content warning: this post is about farts.
So, yes, I still get gas and I still fart. But (hehe), there are two major differences now. The first is that the expelled gas and smells get captured by my colostomy bag. The bags I currently use have a small charcoal-filtered vent at the top, which helps to keep the bag from ballooning up and ensures that no smells emanate from it. It works pretty well, but occasionally it can’t keep up and the bag balloons up anyway. This feels weird and not nice, so it’s necessary to vent the bag.
That’s done by opening the ‘drain’ end of the bag, holding it up so nothing else gets out, and kinda squeezing the excess air out. And honestly, the smell is brutal. It is punishing, and it lingers. This makes sense when you consider that venting a bag is actually like farting four or five times simultaneously. I try never to do it when anybody’s around; otherwise I’ll find a well-ventilated but enclosed space (like a bathroom) or, now that the weather’s nicer, just go outside for a moment. Once, Lori walked into the living room at least ten minutes after I’d vented and asked me if one of the pets had pooped behind a couch or something.
That’s the first major difference between farting before and now. The other major difference is that I no longer have control of when or how they happen. The typical human exit point for gas has a muscle to work with, and my stoma does not. As a result, I no longer have the option to hold things or otherwise be discreet; my stoma can and will interrupt my day with fart sounds as loudly and as frequently as it wants. At times I can feel a fart coming just before it happens, but otherwise my stoma seems to have a mind and comedic timing all its own.
(Yes, I can make dietary changes or use over-the-counter drugs to mitigate the gassiness; generally it actually hasn’t been so bad or embarrassing just yet. On the other hand, that one customer service worker renewing my driver’s licence is probably still wondering if I completely soiled myself in front of him. Neither of us commented on the horrible fart sound when it happened, and to his credit, he kept a completely straight face)
My plan going forward is to simply apologise and say “I have a medical condition” in most situations, and leave it at that. If I’m in the prolonged company of people who don’t know me so well, as I was last Tuesday, I’ve rehearsed a slightly longer explanation that should serve to get ahead of the awkwardness. Actually, that particular night, my stoma was well-behaved and only quietly burbled a few times. However, I wanted to make a good impression and felt it wise to just take a moment and address things. Part of my longer explanation is also to say a.) that it’s not a taboo subject for me and b.) folks are very unlikely to offend me with questions or jokes.
(I hedge a little there because people are creative and I’m sure someone could find new ways to hurt my feelings about this issue, if they really tried. I do not want them to try.)
The ostomy program nurses warned me about all of this, but it’s another thing again to experience it. Oh, actually hang on, I just wrote that it hadn’t really been embarrassing, but my stoma did get a little rowdy during a play we went to in Winnipeg. It was mid-show and not really the moment to explain myself so I just tried to smother it in layers of clothing plus a jacket. That felt bad. It quieted down, but I spent the rest of the show ready to bolt for the door if I felt the pressure build again.
Overall I’m still grateful to be here, even if it means my body will randomly make rude noises. And I’m grateful that most people have responded with good humour, because we’re all human and farts…are pretty funny.