I wanted to post about my ostomy since it has become a big part of life.
The basics:
There are three types of ostomies. An illeostomy is related to the small intestine. An urostomy is related to the urinary tract. Mine is a colostomy. This means my colon (aka large intestine) has been separated from my rectum and redirected out my abdomen. A small piece of my intestine was turned inside out and sewn to my skin. This is called a stoma. On a good day it looks like a slimy rose. It has no nerve endings but it can bleed. This is currently where poop exits my body.
The why:
The surgery that resulted in the colostomy is called a colectomy. Some people have the surgery and are able to be put back together immediately. In my case I was backed up, had infection, and a large cancerous tumor so it was decided the colostomy was the safer route. My body would heal quicker and have less risk for more infection that could delay the start of my cancer treatment. Luckily, the surgeon is very confident that I can be put back together when I'm done killing this cancer.
The equipment:
I have no control over when my stoma decides to let loose so I almost always have to have my 'appliance' on. The nurses in the hospital called it an 'appliance'. In reality it's just a plastic bag attached to to my body with a couple different pieces of plastic and wax adhesives. My equipment comes from a medical supplier once a month. My insurance covers a set number of supplies and I'm currently fighting to get that number upped a bit. I have to change the equipment every 1-3 days depending on the conditions. I also have to shave half my belly. I am a very hairy man so it's quite a task.
The balloon:
The bags I use have a charcoal filter system that allows air to escape without any odor being released. The filter seems to fail after about 12 to 24 hours of use. This means the air does not escape the bag and I end up with a small balloon attached to my belly. Because I'm only given so many bags a month I try to make the bags last as long as I can. This means I need to release the air when I get the balloon. The inside of my bag smells like the Devil's port-a-potty. I could win a clear-the-room contest against anyone with a normally functioning digestive system. I'm not exaggerating. I even gag when I smell it and I'm guessing by the end of chemo I'll probably make myself throw up once or twice just from burping my bag.
The balloon makes for some awkward situations. At home I either go into the master bathroom or step outside to burp. I feel bad for Carrie if I do it in the bathroom. I feel awkward doing it outside if neighbors are around. I once burped the bag in a car with Carrie and Maya. It wasn't a nice thing to do and they immediately exited the vehicle. Luckily, we weren't moving at the time. Work can also be awkward because of this. I can burp in the bathroom but feel bad for anyone who enters the restroom in the next few minutes. Sometimes I just go outside but again feel awkward if people are around.
The foghorn:
My stoma can make noises very similar to farts. Just like a fart they can be quiet or very loud. Sometimes the intestinal foghorns sound, warning all passerbys of the disgusting rude man in their vicinity. The truth is I have no control over this. As much as some of you may argue, we all have at least a little control over a fart and can choose how we release it. With the stoma I have no warning and it usually surprises even me. I have warned my coworkers and anyone I'm going to spend extended time with. The only real embarassing moment so far was at a game night with some neighbors. While the foghorn and the balloon can be very awkward it can also be awkward telling strangers or new acquaintances about the sounds resulting from last night's pizza. Should I just start with, "Hi I'm Jason and I crap in a bag next to my belly button. Sometimes it makes noises. Please disregard them. I swear I'm not a weirdo." or do I just go with "I have cancer. You should look at me with very sad eyes while I tell my tale of medical misadventure. Also please ignore any strange sounds my body makes because you know I have cancer and only a jerk would judge me!"
Lessons:
Having an ostomy is scary and very strange at first but you quickly adapt. I don't think about it too much unless it is ballooning or foghorning. I need to be smarter about what I eat not just to help the cancer fight but also to reduce the gas. Even though I outlined some awkward situations above I really find it nothing to be embarrassing about and will talk to anyone about it if they are curious. In the end I probably won't create an ostomy scrapbook but I have developed a strange affection for the little piece of colon hanging out of my hairy belly.
