I officially became an Ostomate on February 28, 2017. Look at this happiness. This girl who clearly knows everything about her ileostomy and how to control it. She looks flawless:
Clearly all days are glorious. They are obviously full of sunshine and rainbows and without a doubt I can stealthily sport Debbie underneath my clothing without anyone batting an eye. Because I'm a pro. I got this. I can work this bag. I can do it all. '
WRONG. Most days are spent like this. With the "oh shite, I think I screwed up" face:
In the interest of transparency, I would like to list my top 5 ostomy bag fails since Deborah and I have come to know each other. I would like to warn you, this post is not for the faint of heart. If you have issues with a certain "#2," I suggest you scroll up, select the "back" button, and return to whatever previous activity you were involved with before you happened to stumble upon my stool-centered blog.
#5 - The First Leak
They say when you return home all of you ostomy knowledge goes out the window and your first bag change will be a debacle. Well, let me tell you - it was a fiasco. As my husband and I were relaxing watching our 478th episode of Shark Tank, I felt a wetness underneath my shirt. As I checked, I knew - MY FIRST LEAK! Panic ensued. We ran to the bathroom. Puppy pads were thrown to the floor. I stripped down to nothing, I ripped off my bag. We grabbed a trash bag and I stood next to it and my stoma went nuts as I went "#2" on the puppy pads like my little Chiweenie, Scooby, would. Our bag changing knowledge was quickly forgotten due to the crisis at hand, but thanks to a quick phone call to a good friend, we were able to successfully re-bag myself. However, we were unable erase the images in our minds of my stoma and me pooping on the puppy pads like my little Scooby.
#4 - BAG DOWN
It had been a particular rough day in the hospital where seemingly everything, and I mean everything, had gone wrong. My nurse and I were joking about the catastrophes and she stated "at least things can't get any worse." As I walked toward the bathroom I agreed with her and said, "yes, that's true - they definitely can't get any worse." The second I finished my sentence, the clip on my bag came loose, and the contents of my bag spilled on the entire floor, covering myself in literal shit.
Things definitely got worse.
#3 - THE LEAK TO END ALL LEAKS
I was waiting to have another test run at the hospital as transport arrived to pick me up. I arose from my hospital bed to find that yes, I had another leak. Unfortunately, the hospital was short on bags my size, so it was the third leak of the day. Paste was hardened to my area, so I had to be put in the shower immediately to be washed off and have the paste picked off immediately.
The hospital was short staffed, so it left me with no other option but to have my nurse and my dad take the paste off with tweezers while I was in the shower. As if I wasn't humiliated enough, I had to be in my birthday suit in front of my father for the first time since I was a toddler. I stood there, naked, helpless, and downright ashamed as they picked away at my paste and I prayed for the night to end.
A correct size bag was eventually put on. My dignity was never found.
#2 - THE INTESTINE CRISIS OF 2017
When you're in the hospital, they want you to measure your output. I felt my bag get quite full with what felt to be a large "turd" inside. I asked my dad to hold the can for me to empty my bag. We did, but the large "turd" didn't budge. We poked, yanked, tried to "break up" the object, but it wouldn't move a bit. We decided to call a nurse. The nurse had me lay back and put a towel around me as she didn't want to make a mess. I thought it was a bit odd, but I went with it.
She pulled my bag off and what I saw made me want to pass out.
"Your intestines have decided to come out," stated the nurse calmly, "I better call the doctor."
W.T.F. Full on panic attack. I hyperventilated. I cried. I screamed. I squeezed by dad's hand. I almost broke it. I lost my mind.
MY INTESTINES ARE COMING THROUGH MY STOMA??!?! WHO DOES THIS HAPPEN TO?!?!
My dad is calling everyone. I'm crying and crying as he holds my hand saying it's okay. Then he says it "Looks just like a 'Peter'." Nice saying it looks like I have a dick coming out of my stomach, Dad.
They give me ativan to calm me down because I continue to lose it. They eventually bring in the surgical team to push it all back in. It takes a while, it hurts, but it all makes it.
And yes, I'm still suffering from the disaster.
#1 - THE PANERA INCIDENT
I have saved the best for last. Ah, the Panera Incident. After a month in the hospital, it was finally time - I was being released! I was ecstatic and couldn't wait to leave my jail cell. I was dying for Panera, so my husband and I decided that is where we would eat upon leaving the prison. When we got to Panera, I realized that my bag was completely full. I gave my husband my cell phone and wallet and told him I would be right back as I needed to empty my back quickly before we ate. I went into a small bathroom stall instead of the large stall, which was my first mistake. I should have known I condemned myself at that very moment. I unclipped my bag, started to unroll the front, began to move it toward the toilet for emptying when my hands got loose in the small stall and slipped.
As my hands slipped.. the contents of the bag started to slip as well.. they quickly exited the bag... not into the toilet but...
...all into the inside of my pants.
Yes, my entire ostomy bag, full to the brim, softened stool, emptied into my pants.
You could say I shit my pants.
Since I had no phone as I had given it to my husband, I was SOL.
I began scooping everything out as best I could. This process took quite a while.
Finally, as I felt I had enough out of my pants to get my husband, I did. He was able to get me a change of clothes from the car until could get home.
Broke that ostomy bag in real quick.
On that note, I'll close out this blog post. Peace, love and blessings.
