Finding Bladder Cancer Support Everywhere

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Younger women are not the typical bladder cancer and urostomy patients, but a variety of support and resources do exist to help you

By Liz Hiles

In August 2016, when I was diagnosed with bladder cancer, there was very little information about WOMEN and bladder cancer, let alone finding adequate support for anyone with bladder cancer.  Receiving a diagnosis that I hadn’t even heard of before, didn’t know the symptoms for, and had never heard of anyone I knew who had faced the diagnosis, my first thought at 40 years old was, “I’m too young to die.”

I really thought that I would surely die when I received my diagnosis, especially since I had been going to the Emergency Room periodically for years and was gaslit, ignored, and brushed off every single time. I was a deer in headlights and didn’t know what was coming or where to look for what I needed.

Going into a cancer diagnosis, many have cancer blinders on — meaning the only thing they can think about is cancer, treatment, and trying to survive. For 8 months to a year, I lived with those blinders on. I was too exhausted to think outside of any box or do any extra activities. When I went back to work in April 2017, it was all I could do for several months was make it through the work day and get home. Outside of that, I slept deeply.

While I was waiting for surgery, I tried finding a bladder cancer support group near me. There was absolutely nothing. When I asked my urology oncology surgeon, his only suggestion was to “try Facebook.” Yes, there absolutely are lots of groups on Facebook. I’m always a bit wary of those, as they are not always run ethically and are never moderated by licensed therapists or social workers, so the information and support you get is not always accurate or appropriate. I proceeded with caution there. 

At some point during treatment, I found some support websites and even an online chat via website or app that I was able to utilize. All focused on cancer in some way. They were moderately helpful, but I didn’t feel a strong connection, inclusivity on multiple levels, and a deeper understanding of my experiences. After I struck out at my local Cancer Support Community location, I recalled my WOC nurse telling me about an ostomy group. I couldn’t remember the name or find the information she gave me, so I called her up. After a brief but extremely helpful conversation about several issues I was having, I had the name of my local UOAA Affiliated Support Group written down and sought them out. 

That’s really when the support factor clicked in for me. The first meeting I went to was a social one, at a local restaurant. We met for dinner. There was one gentleman who like me, was also a bladder cancer survivor with a urostomy. Everyone else had fecal diversions of various types. Still, I found more compassion, empathy, and understanding for everything I went through there than I did from any other source I had tried to date. 

Support is like putting together a salad and tossing it well. A salad is horrible with just lettuce – you need lots of other ingredients to make it delicious!

Since that time, I’ve expanded my support circles, finding the right mix of cancer, bladder cancer, young adult cancer, ostomy, and spoonie support. I have made connections via the internet, Zoom, and even in person at events like UOAA’s National Conference. My experiences have helped me through some of the most challenging times of the last 10 years.

When it comes to support, my advice to anyone facing a new diagnosis is always two-fold:

  1. Welcome support into your life. You will need it. 
  2. Try a plethora of different support venues: via social media, Zoom, or in-person. Try everything at least twice before making the decision of whether or not you will fit in with the group. 

No single group or organization will fit all of your resource or support needs. Support is like putting together a salad and tossing it well. A salad is horrible with just lettuce – you need lots of other ingredients to make it delicious!

Throughout the years, I have managed to come together with individuals and organizations like UOAA to build a wonderful support network for myself. Without support, I would not have made it this far. Without support, I would not have come into the various opportunities that I’ve been fortunate enough to experience and collaborate on. 

In January 2026, I had the opportunity to come together with the Tigerlily Foundation and fellow survivors, Dee Masters and Brittney Tellekampto to bring bladder cancer to the forefront of conversations in women’s health and bring more awareness to the disease beyond the stereotypical patient: old, white, chain-smoking, male. 

The organization chose to highlight the three of us various backgrounds and experiences. 

The three of us were flown into Nashville, TN, for a weekend retreat to film our personal bladder cancer stories and a panel discussion while getting to converse, support, and bond over being launched into a mutual club that no one ever wants to join: the cancer club. 

Support continues to help make my life complete. It drives me through the hard days and inspires me to pay acts of kindness forward. 

Dee Master is a woman of Indian descent living in the Knoxville, TN area, was diagnosed at 33 with a recurrence 4 years later. She has experienced multiple procedures, including numerous cystoscopies, undergone various treatments, and has managed to retain her bladder. 

Brittney Tellekamp was diagnosed  with Stage IV Metastatic Bladder Cancer at the age of 28 and underwent a radical cystectomy, full hysterectomy, lymphadenectomy, and received an ileal conduit (stoma). She is speaking out with TigerLilly about sexual health issues for young women with bladder cancer. 

One of the most common themes we noticed was the challenges we faced in finding support that fit our needs and how rare it was to find other young adult women in the bladder cancer realm – especially those willing to talk about their journeys. 

Finding support is a critical part of surviving treatment and succeeding in survivorship. Yet it is an area that is often overlooked or ignored by the clinical teams who treat cancer patients. 

On May 1, 2026, the Tigerlily Foundation launched its brand new bladder cancer awareness campaign with a new resource page going live on its website. Throughout May and June, more information will be shared, along with video releases of our stories and panel discussion. The organization also plans on concentrated social media posts in October in support of ostomy awareness as well. 

Support continues to help make my life complete. It drives me through the hard days and inspires me to pay acts of kindness forward. 

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Liz is now 50 years old. A lifelong Cincinnati resident, she works in a school system by day and in her free time, she spends it advocating for various health issues, including bladder cancer, young adult cancer and ostomies.  To connect with Liz, go to her Linktree.

Follow the Tigerlily Foundation on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, TikTok, YouTube, and Bluesky to connect with this campaign as it rolls out. To To connect with Dee, find her on Instagram @mamadragon9.

Resilience Story: Denise Miller

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On Nov. 6, 2022 I was bike riding with my husband and started having pain on my right side. Dr. Goggle said it could be appendicitis. So, I went to the ER and found that it was not my appendix but that I had ovarian cancer. At the time, 55 years old, I thought I was in good health. I was shocked, depressed and scared to death having to deal with cancer. I went to the oncologist and was learned I was going to need a total hysterotomy and that there was a shadow on my large intestine but that she would not know what it was until the surgery.

There was the possibility that I would need a colostomy. Ok, I thought, now dealing with cancer and the possibility of an ostomy, I was more depressed and felt my life was over. How can I deal with an ostomy and cancer?

On December 27, 2022 I went in for my surgery and came out with an ostomy. Apparently, the cancer had wrapped itself around the large intestine and a large portion had to be removed. I was given a colostomy and a chance to leave a normal healthy life.

I was depressed though and thought how in the world can I go on with this? The cancer part was gone and I did not have to go through chemo but on medicine and three month check-ups with an oncologist for the next five years. But now I had to deal with an ostomy.

Shortly after I was home from the hospital, I met my guardian angel (The greatest ostomy nurse) Andrea Torok who taught me, encouraged me and helped me mentally get through so much dealing with an ostomy. I was told I could do what I did before and more. She and my husband Guy Miller got me through so much and I’m so grateful for them both.

Andrea encouraged me to start an ostomy support group in Ann Arbor, Michigan and I thought, what? Me? I have no clue how to do that?

I feel great running and so much healthier, with more energy than before.

United Ostomy Associations of America assisted me in starting an affiliated group and after two years we have about 20 people in the group.

I was also excited to feel better and started running again as I had before surgery. Once able to get back to running I was soon doing 5K races and winning my age group! I feel great running and so much healthier, with more energy than before. I wear a binder when running daily and lifting weights.

I also hike, bike and live life to the fullest. I for sure have my down days, but think that I am here, healthy and helping others any way that I can.

Last year I was thrilled to learn about the Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k that is celebrated by UOAA for National Ostomy Awareness Day.

I traveled to Cleveland, Ohio from Michigan for the event. I felt very inspired by all those that participated in the run/walk. People wearing their bags on the outside of their clothes, the shirts folks wore, and just feeling so comfortable about their ostomy. I felt very welcomed and free to wear my ostomy outside my clothes and not feel ashamed.

I was inspired to increase awareness of ostomies in Michigan so this year I’m organizing the first annual Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k in Ann Arbor on Saturday, October 3, 2026.

Many people have them but feel like cannot talk about it and that makes me sad.

As I have been fundraising for this event and the mission of UOAA, I have heard so many stories about people that have ostomies, know someone, or have had an ostomy reversed and want to be a part of increasing awareness.

I have realized that I am not alone in this and so many people in Michigan want to help and be a part of this. I also have a goal of getting the younger generation involved.

Ostomies do save lives and we can do what we want if we put our minds to it!

 

Celebrate your resilience and participate in a Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k event near you or host your own Virtual Ostomy 5k event wherever you are. Donate in honor of Denise’s resilience or learn more about her Ostomy 5k event in Michigan!

Smashing Cancer and Stoma Stigma

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By Kevin Smets

I never imagined that one of the most defining chapters of my life would begin just one month before my daughter was born.

In 2020, I was diagnosed with stage 3 colorectal cancer. A few weeks later, as my family was preparing to welcome my daughter into the world, I was preparing for something entirely different. I started chemotherapy and radiation the very same week she was born. While most new dads are figuring out diapers and sleep schedules, I was learning how to fight for my life at the same time I was learning how to be a father.

Through it all, my wife Dasha was the backbone of our family. She took care of both of us, stepping into a role that no one ever expects to have to play. Watching her carry that weight with strength and love is something I’ll never forget.

Before everything changed, I was part of something truly special called The Schmoedown – it was like WWE meets movie trivia, where larger-than-life characters and real competition collided. I stepped into that world as “The Smasher,” and what started as a persona quickly became something the fans rallied behind in a very real way. They even started a #SmashCancer movement that really carried me through it all, along the way the fans even held a 24-hour stream fundraiser that literally lifted my family up financially while I couldn’t work for nearly a year.

That preparation didn’t just help me physically, it gave me control in a situation where most things felt out of my hands.

And then after nine months of fighting, under the care of such wonderful oncologists and surgeons at UCLA medical center, I underwent stoma surgery. But here’s something that made a huge difference for me mentally. About five months before the surgery, I already knew there was a strong chance I would end up with a stoma. So instead of avoiding it, I leaned in. I researched everything I could. In my research and quest to be more educated I leaned on sites like Ostomy.org and colonclub to really acquaint myself for the journey ahead, and it was a crucial part of my surgery prep.

By the time ostomy surgery came around, I was so prepared that nurses actually commented that I knew as much as they did. That preparation didn’t just help me physically, it gave me control in a situation where most things felt out of my hands.

Today, I’m proud to say I’m in remission.

But the journey didn’t stop there.

I decided to start sharing my story online, documenting my stoma and ostomy journey. The reason was simple, and honestly, a bit personal. A friend once told me their cousin said they would rather die than have an ostomy. That stuck with me. I couldn’t shake it. And I knew right then that there was a stigma that needed to be broken.

So I made it my mission to smash that stigma.

Since then, I’ve received messages from people still in their hospital beds, sometimes just waking up from emergency surgery, telling me they found my content and it helped them feel less alone. Those messages mean everything to me.

If sharing my experience can help even one person feel stronger, more prepared, or more hopeful, then it’s all worth it.

This journey isn’t just about survival. It’s about mindset. It’s about showing that life doesn’t end with an ostomy, it just changes. And sometimes, that change can lead to a purpose you never saw coming.

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In addition to Kevin’s Youtube channel you can find him on TikTok and as @Kevsmashcancer on Instagram.

The Intersection of Race and Health: Advocating for Patients in Education and Access

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By Michael Ashley Turner

Having physicians not listen to you
Not being taken seriously
Not having affordable health options
Having organizations want to use your story but not see representation of people that look like you on their social media

photo credit Jermaine & Catrone Turner of Jpixstudios

Coming into spaces and not being able to engage due to lack of diversity
Not being property educated on medical issues
Reached out to organizations to help bridge the gap between their diversity.

Appreciative to UOAA for meeting with me
Being misdiagnosed for years due to doctors not wanting to take the extra steps
Micro aggression that physicians have given me vs when I’ve been seen with a Caucasian friend.

It’s not every day that we enter spaces, especially in health and wellness, where Black and Brown people are truly represented and advocated for. I’ve had my share of experiences in medical offices and health organizations where I was not heard, not advocated for, and not taken seriously about what I had been experiencing for years.

For context, I was born in Chicago and now call Atlanta home, but in many ways my real “home” has been found through the journey I’ve taken with my health and career.

For more than 14 years, I lived with chronic digestive issues that shaped almost every part of my life. The experience was confusing, isolating, and exhausting. I went from appointment to appointment searching for answers while trying to explain symptoms that doctors often dismissed or minimized. Eventually my condition led to a total colectomy and ostomy. It was not until 2022 that I finally received a definitive diagnosis: Crohn’s disease. Hearing the words was difficult, but it also brought clarity after years of uncertainty.

The truth is that my story is not unique. Many people living with chronic illness experience long delays in diagnosis. For many Black patients, the path can be even more complicated. There were times when I felt that physicians simply were not listening to me. My symptoms were questioned. 

My pain was downplayed. The extra testing and deeper investigation that could have happened earlier often did not happen. Years later, I would realize that those missed steps contributed to how long it took to get the correct diagnosis.

There were also moments when the difference in treatment was impossible to ignore. I remember appointments where subtle comments or dismissive attitudes felt like microaggressions. In some situations I noticed a clear difference in how physicians communicated with me compared to how they spoke to a Caucasian friend who accompanied me. Those moments stay with you. They make you question whether your voice is truly valued in the room.

Access to healthcare has also been part of the challenge. Affordable medical options are not always available, and navigating insurance while dealing with a chronic illness can feel overwhelming. When you are already managing pain, fatigue, and uncertainty, the financial side of healthcare becomes another barrier that many people quietly carry.

I believe representation, access, and education should exist in every part of healthcare.

Beyond the exam room, representation matters in the organizations that claim to support patients. There have been times when groups wanted to share my story or highlight my experience, but when I looked at their social media or leadership spaces I did not see people who looked like me. Representation cannot stop at storytelling. It has to exist in leadership, advocacy, education, and the faces that are consistently visible in those spaces.

There have also been events and community spaces where I simply did not feel like I could fully engage because the diversity was not there. When people cannot see themselves reflected in a space, it can create distance even when the mission is meant to be inclusive.

photo credit Jermaine & Catrone Turner of Jpixstudios

One of the biggest gaps I noticed early on was education. Many communities, especially communities of color, are not always given the same level of accessible information about GI conditions, ostomies, and chronic illness management. When education is missing, people are left trying to figure things out on their own. That can delay care, increase fear, and make an already difficult journey feel even more isolating.

Because of these experiences, I began reaching out to organizations and advocacy groups to have real conversations about diversity and representation. My goal has never been to criticize for the sake of criticism. My goal has always been to help bridge the gap so that future patients do not feel as invisible as many of us once did.

I am grateful for the organizations that are willing to listen and engage in those conversations. One example is United Ostomy Associations of America (UOAA), who took the time to meet with me and hear my perspectives. Those kinds of conversations matter. When organizations open the door to dialogue, real progress becomes possible.

Through all of this, I have learned that our struggles can become the very thing that pushes us to show up for others. My journey has led me to advocate for people living with ostomies, GI conditions, and mental health challenges. I share my story so others know they are not alone and so that healthcare spaces can continue to evolve.

Illness changes your life. It forces you to ask hard questions about your body, your voice, and your place in systems that do not always work equally for everyone. But it can also create purpose. It can open the door for advocacy, education, and community building.

I believe representation, access, and education should exist in every part of healthcare. Patients deserve to be heard. They deserve to be taken seriously. They deserve to see themselves reflected in the spaces that claim to support them.

And most importantly, they deserve care that honors their full humanity.

Gloria the Phoenix

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Remembering Gloria by Bob Kwiatkowski

Gloria and I met by chance in November of 1969. I was driving with a friend down 8 mile road in Detroit. Gloria was with two of her friends in a car that passed us by. We caught up and started flirting with them.

I asked if they would want to meet us at a popular pizza place in Detroit.

We were surprised that they did meet us there. While my friend talked to Gloria’s two friends I talked to her. Within minutes I thought “I want to Marry this girl” She bowled me over.

We went out every day afterward and three days later, I asked her to marry me. She said “Yes but I have to tell you something, I have an ostomy.” Gloria went on to explain that she was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis at six years old. She said that she spent a lot of time worrying about where the bathrooms were, what she ate, etc. her sisters said that she was always in and out of a Children’s Hospital.

She was later properly diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. She said the surgery totally changed her life for the better, she put on weight was able to eat things she never could before. I didn’t fully understand it but I told her that if it saved her life, it was sure worth it.

Embracing Life

She was her senior class President, the first female class president. She graduated with Honors from Wayne State University and she worked for the Michigan Cancer Society for over forty years (later renamed the Karmanos Cancer Institute)

We married in 1971 and had 54 totally awesome years together.

I loved and was blessed with a wonderful women– who just happened to have a stoma.

She was so much fun. We both loved live music and attended over 100 concerts in life. She was my concert buddy.

We’re big Detroit football fans and have had Lions season tickets for 45+ years. Gloria was my Lions Football buddy.

I learned about Rolf Benirschke’s organization in the Phoenix Magazine. We were huge fans. We watched many of his games as an NFL placekicker. I was able to contact and talk to him and it is great to see all he has accomplished since.

Medical Challenges

Gloria had 28 major surgeries in life, breast cancer, a total hysterectomy, and many stoma revisions including one in 2000 at the Cleveland Clinic. Peritonitis twice, nothing ever got her down, she was always positive. Always joking with the doctors and nurses prior to and after surgery.

Gloria always worried about everyone but herself. She had four sisters and they’ve all been healthy, Gloria told me she was glad that she got everything rather than her sisters.

She loved UOAA and the Crohn’s and Colitis foundation. She volunteered with the local chapter in her younger days.

Caregiving

Luckily, I learned how to change her ostomy pouch. Gloria was in and out of hospitals in her last year, she died from a fungal infection that did not respond to anti-fungal’s. Gloria was on Imuran for 30 years, it really helped with Crohn’s flair ups but infectious disease Docs felt it allowed the fungus to roost in her body. The fungus was first spotted in one of Gloria’s lungs in 2022, Dyflucam took care of it but was not effective when it returned in 2023/24.

What really surprised me was the lack of knowledge concerning ostomies by nurses and aides. I would often return to the hospital and rehab center at all hours to help her change, to empty her pouch etc. I considered it an honor to be able to help her. Not everyone was like that. Nurses told me there is not much time spent in Nursing Schools regarding ostomies and their care.

I joined a private Ostomy Facebook group and it deeply saddens me that folks have such a negative attitude there toward life with an ostomy. Our life together was awesome, and she was an amazing wife, and I think people should know their lives are not over.

A Phoenix

Gloria was a huge Harry Potter fan and she loved “The Order of the Phoenix” a secret organization that fights evil. I ordered a shirt with their crest and asked them to change the date from 1971 to 1967, the year Gloria had her surgery she always said it saved her life. She considered “67” to be her lucky number.

It’s great to be able to recognize Gloria in UOAA’s Phoenix Society  and with a donation in her honor, advance a mission of ostomy education, support and advocacy.

We also LOVED the Phoenix magazine and will miss it, but think she would be pleased that this article could be something positive for other ostomates to enjoy.

May wife had many medical issues during her life but she faced each challenge with a smile, joking and always positive.

She was always there for me and loved by many. There were over 200 people at her funeral. We’re Catholic and I consider Gloria my greatest blessing in life by far.

I loved and was blessed with a wonderful women– who just happened to have a stoma.

Finding Community, Purpose, and Voice After Colorectal Cancer and Permanent Colostomy

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By: Sandra James, ACSW

Instagram.com/@colostomyforever

www.youtube.com/@SandraJames-LivingIt

When I was diagnosed, the first emotions that hit me were disappointment, confusion, and shame. I had spent months believing hemorrhoids were the only source of my problem. There were no other symptoms at first that would alert me outside of hemorrhoids, and when I saw the blood, I attributed it to hemorrhoids and something common and manageable. Cancer never crossed my mind. I never imagined that something as serious as colorectal cancer was there quietly invading my body without my knowing. When the diagnosis came, it felt disorienting. I kept replaying the past in my head, wondering how I missed it, how something so big could have been there while I carried on with my life.

When people asked what kind of cancer I had, I struggled to say the words out loud. Saying it was in my rectum felt heavy, embarrassing, and deeply shameful. I found myself wanting to deflect, minimize, or avoid the conversation altogether. That shame added another layer to the confusion and disappointment I was already carrying—an emotional weight I never expected to come with a diagnosis.

I had no one I could sit across from, look in the eyes, and say, “Do you understand this?”

After my diagnosis, my medical team gave me pamphlets and printed materials explaining my condition and treatment such as colostomy surgery. The information was thorough and medically sound, but it wasn’t what I needed at that moment. I wasn’t looking for a curriculum or clinical language—I needed to understand what was happening to me right then, in real life. What helped me most was hearing from real people.

Sandra at UOAA’s 2025 National Conference in Orlando.

I spent long stretches of time watching videos on YouTube where people openly shared their cancer journeys, their fears, their side effects, their recoveries, and their lives beyond diagnosis. Some had their own YouTube channels. Others were featured on platforms like The Patient Story. Watching them helped me process what I was facing in a way pamphlets couldn’t.

While YouTube helped me feel less alone in the early days of my diagnosis and treatment, it didn’t fully replace the need for real, human connection. I didn’t know anyone in my immediate community who had an ostomy. I had no one I could sit across from, look in the eyes, and say, “Do you understand this?”

At some point, I came across another ostomate on social media who mentioned the United Ostomy Associations of America (UOAA) National Conference. I remember feeling something shift in me when I heard about it. It felt like an invitation — not just to an event, but to belonging. I registered, booked a flight, and went — not fully knowing what to expect, but knowing I needed to be there. Those three days became one of the most meaningful experiences of my entire cancer journey. From the moment I arrived, I felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity and ease. I was surrounded by people who felt like they had known me my whole life, even though we had just met. There was no shame, no need to explain myself, no awkwardness. Just understanding. UOAA’s conference wasn’t simply educational — it was grounding. It wasn’t just supportive — it was life-sustaining. For the first time since my diagnosis, I felt whole again. Not fixed. Not “back to normal.” But grounded in who I was becoming.

From Watching to Sharing: Why I Started My Own Channel

The realization to start my own channel came while I was writing my book, My Colorectal Cancer Journey. By the time I reached chapter two, I understood that telling my story solely through a book would take time — time that many people facing a new diagnosis surgery simply don’t have. I remembered how desperately I needed immediate connection and reassurance, and I knew I wanted to offer that same immediacy to others.

Starting a YouTube channel felt less structured, more human, and more accessible. It allowed me to speak honestly, show the realities of ostomy life, and create space for conversations that often don’t happen elsewhere — conversations about fear, shame, stigma, resilience, and growth.

My channel wasn’t created to educate in the traditional sense, even though many people now describe it that way. It was created to connect. To say, “You’re not alone,” without conditions or explanations. To show what life can look like after diagnosis, after surgery, after everything changes.

The same connection I once searched for, I now try to offer — one video, one conversation, one shared moment at a time.

View a selection of Sandra’s videos at the links below and look for her unique perspective on UOAA’s YouTube Channel soon!

Caring for My Stoma: What Works for Me

My New Travel Bag: What I Take with Me

My New Reality Bag Change: Living with a Permanent Colostomy Bag

The Truth About Living with an Ostomy Bag (Myths vs. Facts)

How to Measure Your Stoma

10 Tips for Intimacy with an Ostomy

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Life with an ostomy can stir up deeply vulnerable questions: Will anyone love me like this? Does my ostomy bag make me unattractive? How can I be intimate while managing it? These anxieties often settle in the quieter corners of ostomy life, where many ostomates fear their bodies may never be chosen or desired.

Chloe Olsen has spent her whole life learning what it means to live with an ostomy. In this blog, she draws on more than 20 years of lived experience to share an honest perspective on connection, communication, and confidence. Her insights offer reassurance, perspective, and a reminder to fellow ostomates that they are worthy of love without conditions.

10 tips for intimacy with an ostomy (from a 20+ year ostomate)

Unlike most other ostomates, I never had a “before my ostomy.” I didn’t have to relearn intimacy because I’ve had an ostomy my whole life. This means I learned intimacy with an ostomy bag—first crushes, first touch, first relationships. For me, there was no “before my ostomy” to mourn—just figuring things out in real time like everyone else.

This is the only body I’ve ever been intimate in. Every version of intimacy I’ve ever known has included my ostomy bag. And that’s why I know you don’t owe anyone everything.

This topic in particular is especially important to me because I didn’t grow up seeing bodies like mine being desired or sexualized. I had no idea what intimacy would look like for me because there wasn’t anyone like me out there talking about it. After a lifetime of trial and error, of tender moments and of ones I’d rather forget, I’m sharing my tried and tested intimacy tips for any ostomate who needs straightforward honesty—not sugarcoating.

  1. You don’t owe anyone your medical history.

When meeting someone new, we can sometimes feel obligated to share our medical past. Don’t forget—you get to decide when and how much you share. There were times I would over-explain out of fear, thinking clarity would protect me. It didn’t—boundaries did.

You are not obligated to provide any details you don’t want to share, and this includes any questions you don’t feel comfortable with. A simple explanation is enough.

  1. You get to decide when to tell someone about your ostomy.

The pressure of this used to weigh on me a lot. If I didn’t tell someone soon enough, I would feel as if I were lying to them somehow, like keeping this secret from them was a form of deception. But if I told them right away, it would sometimes change their view of me—or even the way they treated me.

My advice: if you really like someone, tell them about your ostomy bag as soon as possible, as soon as you feel comfortable. Personally, I would always tell them right away, because I find it to be an excellent detector of who isn’t meant to be.

  1. Phrasing is important. Confidence is everything.

If you do decide to tell your intimate partner about your ostomy, your own attitude can make the biggest difference. If you frame it as something positive, like that it gave you your life back, they probably will too! But if you say, “Now I’m forced to live with this for the rest of my life!” it gives your ostomy a negative connotation, and they may be more likely to react negatively as well.

I know it’s easier said than done, but confidence really is everything! If you go in with no fear, as if your ostomy is no big deal, it likely won’t be a big deal to them either.

  1. If someone is uncomfortable, it’s not a reflection of your self-worth.

Not everyone handles it well, and learning not to internalize those reactions took time. But over time, you learn the difference between curiosity and discomfort—and you stop internalizing reactions that don’t belong to you.

Discomfort doesn’t mean you’re undesirable. It means they’re not equipped for your body or your honesty—and that’s not yours to fix.

  1. One-night stands are NOT off the table.

This is one of the biggest things I wish someone had told me! Having only known ostomy life, I let the stigma surrounding it convince me that one-night stands weren’t possible for me—but that’s actually the furthest thing from the truth. Hearing from my close ostomate friends a little bit older than myself, I learned that it’s actually not a big deal. Although it can be scary at first (how would this random stranger react?), one-night stands with an ostomy are not harder, just more intentional. Only share what’s necessary, and prep more so you can think less.

Most importantly, make sure you feel safe. Believe it or not, your ostomy will likely not be their primary focus—in fact, they may not even notice it at all.

  1. Communication is key.

Intimacy isn’t mind-reading, it’s communication—and that goes both ways. At first, I didn’t know how to communicate effectively during intimacy. Partners would assume they could accidentally “break” my bag or hurt me somehow. I learned to speak up for myself through trial, error, and a lot of unlearning silence. Don’t be afraid to just tell them, “I’m not fragile,” or educate them in the moment so they feel comfortable. Communication doesn’t ruin the moment—it makes it possible, and more enjoyable when they better understand your body.

And if they don’t want to take that extra moment of care, then maybe they aren’t worth your time and energy, and that’s your choice to make. Remember—you can always back out or say no.

  1. Prep is not unsexy.

Emptying your ostomy bag beforehand, wearing something that makes you feel secure, maybe even putting on a fresh bag—all these extra steps we take are just taking care of your body, an important part of intimacy. I know it can detract from the spontaneity, but take it from me, you don’t want to risk having a leak during an intimate moment—major mood killer.

Trust me, it’s worth taking the extra time—having peace of mind changes everything.

  1. The right intimacy doesn’t make you feel like your body is a problem.

I’ve felt the difference between being accommodated and being wanted. And once you feel the latter, you stop settling for the former. For too long, I stayed in unhealthy relationships because I didn’t think I deserved better. I believed I was “defective” or “damaged,” and therefore not in a position to be picky or stand up for myself. It took a while, but once I let myself believe that I was worthy to be loved the way I wanted, I never looked back.

You’re not something to tolerate, work around, or “get past.” You’re not less deserving because of your ostomy. You’re the body someone gets to be close to.

  1. Desire without shame.

I grew up feeling a lot of shame around my body, not because of my ostomy, but because of what I was taught to believe about it. In navigating intimacy, I’ve learned that it’s okay to crave it, and it’s okay to communicate your needs.

Desire doesn’t disappear because you have an ostomy or disability—it adapts, like everything else.

  1. There’s no “right” way to do this.

Reminder: You don’t owe intimacy to prove confidence, healing, or normalcy. There’s no timeline for feeling ready. Confidence with intimacy isn’t a finish line. It shifts with age, partners, energy, and life. And that’s normal—ostomy or not. It comes with time and learning to be comfortable in your own body before you can be comfortable with someone else.

If you’re just learning intimacy in your body—you’re not behind, you’re doing it.

Find more support for intimacy with an ostomy on Instagram and in Coloplast’s free e‑book, The Ostomate’s Guide to Intimacy.

Coloplast develops products and services that make life easier for people with intimate healthcare needs. Working closely with the people who use our products, we create solutions that are sensitive to their special needs. Our business includes ostomy care, continence care, advanced wound care, interventional urology, and voice & respiratory care.

Chloe is a Coloplast product user who received compensation from Coloplast to provide this information. Each person’s situation is unique, so your experience may not be the same. Talk to your healthcare professional about which product might be right for you.

Follow Coloplast on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, or visit us online at https://www.coloplast.us/

 

Editor’s note: This blog is from a UOAA digital sponsor, Coloplast. Sponsor support along with donations from readers like you help to maintain our website and the free trusted resources of UOAA, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization.

Gratitude on High: An Ostomy Patient’s Journey of Faith, Community, and Black History

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By Tonya Kelly

As I drove down East Main Street in Reynoldsburg, Ohio, time stopped.

There it was my banner hanging proudly among so many incredible community members being honored for Black History Month. I pulled over, overwhelmed by emotion.

Tears flowed freely: tears of gratitude, tears of healing, tears of triumph. These last two years have been a journey I could have never imagined, and in that moment, all I could do was appreciate my new life.

To be back in my community, teaching, tutoring, doing what I love, surrounded by love, support, and blessings this moment means everything.

There were moments on this new journey, when my body felt fragile, when uncertainty felt louder than hope. But my faith carried me. Living life as an ostomy(ileostomy) patient has reshaped my understanding of strength, resilience, and purpose. My ostomy literally saved my life, but it also gave me a deeper calling: to live boldly, to serve openly, and to remind others that life after ostomy surgery is not only possible it can be powerful, joyful, and fulfilling.

My community carried me. Organizations like UOAA and Color of Gastrointestinal Illnesses (COGI) reminded me that I was never alone. Through education, shared experiences, and unwavering support, I found strength in knowing that ostomy (ileostomy) patients are not defined by what we’ve lost but by how boldly we live afterward.

Seeing my banner represented on East Main Street alongside other nominated Reynoldsburg residents was deeply humbling. Black History Month is about honoring the past, but it is also about celebrating the living, breathing history we create every day through service, advocacy, and community.

 

My daddy would be so proud.

I do this for him.
I do this for my family.
I do this for my community.
I do this for every ostomy patient who needs to see someone living fully, loving deeply, and standing tall visible and unashamed.
I am Black history.
I am an ostomy patient.
I am grateful.

 

 

 

 

Thanks to Tonya for her leadership and passion for the ostomy community. Seeing the need for ostomy support and supplies in her community she founded Ostomy Warriors a Columbus, OH-based local support and free donation hub dedicated to bringing awareness, dignity, and practical help to ostomy patients and their families. For World Ostomy Day 2025 she organized an Ostomy Awareness recognition at the Ohio State House where she received an official proclamation.

Ostomy Warriors provide access to donated ostomy supplies for individuals experiencing financial hardship, insurance gaps, or unexpected medical transitions. Beyond supplies, the Ostomy Board offers education, peer support, and encouragement for those learning to navigate life as a new ostomy patient. Our mission is rooted in community care meeting people where they are, reducing stigma, and ensuring no one feels alone on their ostomy journey.

Contact:  www.facebook.com/ostomywarriors
614-512-6511,  Ostomywarriors25@gmail.com

Seeking an Extraordinary Life with an Ostomy

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This ‘Walking Miracle’ has a lot more life to live

By Lisa Bowie

I am 65 years old and have lived with an ileostomy for almost 14 years. I share my story in the hope that I may inspire others.

I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in my late 30s. Under the care of a physician, I managed it as best I could, but it would still periodically come out of remission. In 2012, at the age of 52, a flare-up caused my large intestine to rupture. I developed toxic megacolon, and my major organs began shutting down. Unbeknownst to me at that moment, I was within hours of death. A general surgeon performed emergency surgery to remove my entire large intestine in an attempt to save my life.

I woke up after three days in the ICU to find I had an ileostomy. I thought I was out of the woods, but I spent the next four years being hospitalized nine times in three different hospitals across two states, undergoing five major surgeries by four different surgeons. For those four years, it felt like life was passing me by, but I refused to give up. At times, I had to say everything I was thankful for and dreamed of out loud just to get through the day—sometimes even just to get through the next second. My faith in God enabled me to hold on to the belief that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and that I could one day be healed. After my last surgery in 2016, I was finally fully healed. I have been living a full life, albeit with a permanent ileostomy, ever since.

I not only love life, I seize it and savor it.

It was an extremely difficult, at times utterly excruciating, four years. Words fail to describe the full depth and breadth of what I endured. I did not choose this situation, and truthfully, I don’t like it; however, I was determined to survive, and I am determined never to let it define me. Resiliency, perseverance, a “never-ever-give-up” attitude, and an incessant desire to inspire others have helped me through this journey and continue to carry me forward.

I know I’m a walking miracle. My emergency surgeon in 2012 did not expect me to survive the operation. He said I was in the worst condition of any patient he’d ever seen and was ecstatic that I made it. Other surgeons since have shared the sentiment that it is a miracle I’m alive. I am grateful beyond measure for this gift, and I will not waste it. I not only love life, I seize it and savor it. If sharing my story helps just one person, then my journey was worth it.

I can testify that it is possible to thrive with an ileostomy. I’m a single mother, and soon-to-be first time grandmother. I have a BS in Physics, an MS in Nuclear Systems Engineering, and I work full time as a nuclear engineer. Since 2012, I have accomplished so many things and continue to pursue new adventures. Here are a few things I’ve done with my ileostomy:

  • Racing and Driving: I raced my personal cars for several years in Autocross. In 2017, I won the Autocross Season Championship (Ladies Class) in the East Tennessee Region of the Sports Car Club of America (SCCA). On three occasions, I’ve driven track laps at the Bristol Motor Speedway in my Miata and Camaro.

  • Dance: Since 2022, I have competed in couple country dancing in sanctioned United Country & Western Dance Council events. In 2024, I won the title of World Champion in my division after competing both nationally and internationally.

  • Paragliding: In June 2025, I did a tandem paraglide from the 6200-foot Babadag Mountain in Oludeniz, Turkey—one of the highest peaks for commercial paragliding in the world.

  • Travel: I have traveled extensively, including trips to Alaska, Hawaii, Costa Rica, Ireland, Scotland, Spain, and Turkey.

  • Pageants: In April 2026, I will compete in the Ms. Tennessee Senior America Pageant. If by chance I win, I will move on to the national pageant in October 2026.

  • Community: I volunteer and dance with the “TN Jewels,” a group of women aged 60 and older who perform at nursing homes and assisted living facilities.

  • Active Lifestyle/water sports: I frequently go swimming, boating, kayaking, hiking, sailing, and snorkeling.

  • Writing: I am currently writing my first book—a biography about a young single mother from South Sudan living in Tennessee. She suffered incomprehensible atrocities, and I hope her story will eventually become a movie.

  • Ministry: I aspire to start a ministry to help women dealing with adversity by sharing my story of survival.

I’ve learned that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. I choose daily never to let my ileostomy define or limit me. I do not want to live an ordinary life; I want to live an extraordinary one. I am only limited if I limit myself.

I hope that by sharing my story, I inspire others to believe they can achieve any dream their heart desires, even in the midst of adversity. Life is beautiful. Find what makes you smile and go seize it! This is your life—you, too, can make it what you dream it to be.

RETA’S HOLIDAY REFLECTIONS ON LIVING WITH SHORT BOWEL SYNDROME

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For me, the holiday season is an annual reminder of how far I’ve come in my short bowel syndrome (SBS) journey. In my experience, life with SBS has been challenging, but I’ve found that it can be workable. That’s not to say it’s easy; it’s never easy. There are many days when I spend more time in the bathroom than out, but my goal is to have more good days than bad. Through it all, I have worked hard to keep my life as “normal” as possible. I’m fortunate to have a husband who has fully supported me through this journey and has been a source of strength for me. Together, we refuse to let SBS be the dominating factor in our life. My name is Reta and this is my story.

If you are living with Short Bowel Syndrome and rely on parenteral support, there’s an SBS Mentor available to connect with you. Click here to learn more.

A Holiday Health Crisis

On Christmas Day 2012, I was given 10 hours to live. What started as a bad case of diarrhea around Thanksgiving had progressed over the next month to severe diarrhea with vomiting. I was in and out of the hospital while doctors ran tests and tried to manage my symptoms, but my condition quickly deteriorated until I’d gone into renal failure, septic shock, and respiratory failure. My bowels were dead and poisoning my body; doctors weren’t sure they could save any of my bowels, let alone my life.

Doctors gave me a five percent chance of survival with surgery, and no chance without. With those odds laid out before him, my husband said a prayer and told the doctors to go ahead and do the surgery. Thankfully, I do not remember any of this. December 22, 2012 was the last day I really remember before waking up several days later—after the surgery.

A New Reality: Navigating Life After My SBS Diagnosis

Surgery went much better than anyone expected, but when I finally woke up, I learned that my life had changed. I was diagnosed with short bowel syndrome (SBS), a rare, serious and chronic malabsorption disorder that occurs when parts of the intestine are removed, and the remaining intestine may not be able to absorb enough nutrients from food and drink. I had a high output jejunostomy and was put on parenteral support (PS), also referred to as parenteral nutrition, because my body couldn’t absorb nutrients on its own anymore. At that time, I was told I’d probably be on PS for the rest of my life.

The doctors talked about how good my stoma looked and how they were going to try to get my PS down to 15 hours a day. But they wouldn’t even talk about when I could go home. Days dragged into weeks and weeks into a month, and then two months.

Finally, I was allowed to go home—and that’s when reality hit me hard. The day I was supposed to go home, we had major logistics to figure out: Who was going to teach me how to infuse PS? Who was going to supply it? Where was I going to get ostomy supplies? Did I need home health? Who was going to provide that? We were fortunate that the team at the hospital helped my husband and me to figure out these details, and I was finally able to go home.

At 10pm that night, back at home, my infusion nurse was showing us how to hook up my PS. Twelve hours every night. At the time, I was told that there wasn’t any hope of me ever getting off of it. Even bedtime proved to be a challenge. For years, my husband had slept on the left side of the bed; but as I looked at our bed that first night at home, I realized the bathroom was on the left side. So, we held the great bedroom debate and finally decided to switch sides, to allow me to be closer to the bathroom. Something as simple as that made me realize how much SBS would impact almost everything I do.

But life went on. My doctors worked hard to get me down to a more manageable PS level. It was still very restrictive, but I promised myself that I wasn’t going to let the ostomy and PS rule our lives. I went back to work, even though no one thought I would. I carried all my supplies through airports and I can’t tell you how many airplanes. I was trying to live as normal a life as I possibly could—even when my next SBS challenge came.

I remember one time when my pump malfunctioned. I woke up on Sunday morning, and my PS bag was still full; it was supposed to be empty. My pump had probably stopped working right after I went to bed, and I didn’t get any nutrition that entire night. When I went to unhook the bag and saw that it was still full, I had a major temper tantrum: My first official meltdown since my SBS diagnosis. I stomped my feet; I cried; I screamed; I threw things. It wasn’t fair that I had to carry that bag all day and all night. My husband recognized this for what it was—another reality check. He held me and told me it was going to be alright until I stopped kicking and screaming. Meltdown #1 averted.

Learning About An SBS Treatment

Then one day at an appointment, my gastroenterologist handed me a sticky note. The note had GATTEX® (teduglutide) for subcutaneous injection written on it. He said it was a prescription medicine used in adults with short bowel syndrome who need additional nutrition or fluids from intravenous (IV) feeding (parenteral support). After discussing the treatment option with me, we felt I fit the criteria. GATTEX is also approved for children 1 year of age and older. It is not known if GATTEX is safe and effective in children under 1 year of age.

He told me GATTEX may cause serious side effects including making abnormal cells grow faster, polyps in the intestines, blockage of the bowel (intestines), swelling (inflammation) or blockage of the gallbladder or pancreas, and fluid overload. He told me these are not all the possible side effects of GATTEX. I remember my doctor asking me a very important question: “Wouldn’t it be great if over time we could reduce the amount of volume and number of days you’re on PS? I think this drug might help us do that.”

Please continue reading for additional Important Safety Information.

Wow! Finally, a sliver of hope. I weighed the risks and benefits, and together my doctor and I decided that I should start GATTEX. But it proved not to be an easy journey. Many obstacles were thrown in our path. It took six months, letters to insurance companies, and an appeal process to make it happen. In fact, my efforts motivated the insurance company to write a policy that they previously did not have, and establish a timeframe to be eligible for GATTEX.

I remember the first day the GATTEX box arrived at my house, not too long after the new year. My PS-infusion nurse talked me through the process of how to prepare and measure my dose and give myself the subcutaneous injection the right way. I told her I could do it; and I could—until I sat down in my kitchen with the needle and realized what a huge commitment it was. I thought about this and everything I had already been through for a few minutes and decided to take my first step on this new journey.

My doctors and I were happy with the results we saw, and over time my healthcare team began slowly lowering my PS volume. This was just my experience though, and others may have a different experience. My doctor continued to monitor me for any side effects, like injection site reactions. Adults starting GATTEX should have their colon and upper intestines monitored for new polyps at the end of the first year on GATTEX and then as needed and at least every 5 years. I still had a long road ahead of me, and my doctors were still looking at other treatment options. Eventually, one of the options they offered was reconnecting my colon. I weighed that option and decided to proceed.

Another Decision: Weaning Off Parenteral Support Under Medical Supervision

After I’d recovered from surgery to reconnect my colon, we started discussing weaning me off the PS. I’ll admit I was scared. It had been keeping me alive for two years. The thought of not having that “nutrition lifeline” scared me a great deal. I started asking myself questions: What if it doesn’t work? What if I lose too much weight? What if, what if?

With the encouragement and supervision of my team of doctors, over time we started slowly reducing the amount of PS volume and cutting my days on PS until I didn’t need it anymore. I honestly didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t hook up to a bag of nutrition every night. Today I am still off PS, and I still take GATTEX as directed by my doctor. My doctor also continues to monitor me for side effects like stomach-area pain or swelling and injection site reactions. And keep in mind, not all patients who take GATTEX will wean off their PS. These have been my results, but everyone responds to treatment differently.

Even though I still have SBS and bathroom challenges every day, freedom from PS has been liberating. I can go out to dinner or a concert at night without having to plan my schedule around hooking up to PS. It feels great not to be tied to that schedule anymore.

I choose to focus on the good in my life and not let SBS drag me down. Some days are harder than others, but I live for those good days. My husband and I have pledged to make the most of every day. I retired from my job, and we have embarked on the next phase of our lives, checking off items on our bucket list. And, for me, not being on PS makes it a little easier to check off those bucket list items. I am a very fortunate woman. I have a husband who has supported me from the moment this SBS journey began. He has made it infinitely more manageable.

If you’re just starting down this road, you may think your best days are behind you. In my experience, that’s not always the case. SBS is a very challenging condition. If you are living with it, I would encourage you not to give up. Read everything you can about SBS. Ask questions and then insist on answers. Work with your healthcare team to figure out what makes your symptoms worse. Learn as much as you can to take control of your “new normal.”

IMPORTANT SAFETY INFORMATION

What is the most important information I should know about GATTEX? GATTEX may cause serious side effects, including:

Making abnormal cells grow faster

GATTEX can make abnormal cells that are already in your body grow faster. There is an increased risk that abnormal cells could become cancer. If you get cancer of the bowel (intestines), liver, gallbladder or pancreas while using GATTEX, your healthcare provider should stop GATTEX. If you get other types of cancers, you and your healthcare provider should discuss the risks and benefits of using GATTEX.

Polyps in the intestines

Polyps are growths on the inside of the intestines. For adult patients, your healthcare provider will have your colon and upper intestines checked for polyps within 6 months before starting GATTEX, and have any polyps removed. To keep using GATTEX, your healthcare provider should have your colon and upper intestines checked for polyps at the end of 1 year of using GATTEX.

For pediatric patients, your healthcare provider will check for blood in the stool within 6 months before starting GATTEX. If there is blood in the stool, your healthcare provider will check your colon and upper intestines for polyps, and have any polyps removed. To keep using GATTEX, your healthcare provider will check for blood in the stool every year during treatment of GATTEX. If there is blood in the stool, your healthcare provider will check your colon and upper intestines for polyps. The colon will be checked for polyps at the end of 1 year of using GATTEX.

For adult and pediatric patients, if no polyp is found at the end of 1 year, your healthcare provider should check you for polyps as needed and at least every 5 years. If any new polyps are found, your healthcare provider will have them removed and may recommend additional monitoring. If cancer is found in a polyp, your healthcare provider should stop GATTEX.

Blockage of the bowel (intestines)

A bowel blockage keeps food, fluids, and gas from moving through the bowels in the normal way. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you have any of these symptoms of a bowel or stomal blockage:

  • trouble having a bowel movement or passing gas
  • stomach area (abdomen) pain or swelling
  • nausea
  • vomiting
  • swelling and blockage of your stoma opening, if you have a stoma

If a blockage is found, your healthcare provider may temporarily stop GATTEX.

Swelling (inflammation) or blockage of your gallbladder or pancreas

Your healthcare provider will do tests to check your gallbladder and pancreas within 6 months before starting GATTEX and at least every 6 months while you are using GATTEX. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you get:

  • stomach area (abdomen) pain and tenderness
  • chills
  • fever
  • a change in your stools
  • nausea
  • vomiting
  • dark urine
  • yellowing of your skin or the whites of your eyes

Fluid overload

Your healthcare provider will check you for too much fluid in your body. Too much fluid in your body may lead to heart failure, especially if you have heart problems. Tell your healthcare provider if you get swelling in your feet and ankles, you gain weight very quickly (water weight), or you have trouble breathing.

The most common side effects of GATTEX include:

  • stomach area (abdomen) pain or swelling
  • nausea
  • cold or flu symptoms
  • skin reaction where the injection was given
  • vomiting
  • swelling of the hands or feet
  • allergic reactions

The side effects of GATTEX in children and adolescents are similar to those seen in adults. Tell your healthcare provider if you have any side effect that bothers you or that does not go away.

What should I tell my healthcare provider before using GATTEX?

Tell your healthcare provider about all your medical conditions, including if you or your child:

  • have cancer or a history of cancer
  • have or had polyps anywhere in your bowel (intestines) or rectum
  • have heart problems
  • have high blood pressure
  • have problems with your gallbladder, pancreas, kidneys
  • are pregnant or planning to become It is not known if GATTEX will harm your unborn baby. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you become pregnant while using GATTEX.
  • are breastfeeding or plan to It is not known if GATTEX passes into your breast milk. You should not breastfeed during treatment with GATTEX. Talk to your healthcare provider about the best way to feed your baby while using GATTEX.

Tell your healthcare providers about all the medicines you take, including prescription or over-the counter medicines, vitamins, and herbal supplements. Using GATTEX with certain other medicines may affect each other causing side effects. Your other healthcare providers may need to change the dose of any oral medicines (medicines taken by mouth) you take while using GATTEX. Tell the healthcare provider who gives you GATTEX if you will be taking a new oral medicine.

all your doctor for medical advice about side effects. You are encouraged to report negative side effects of prescription drugs to the FDA. Visit www.fda.gov/medwatch or call 1-800-FDA-1088.

What is GATTEX?

GATTEX® (teduglutide) for subcutaneous injection is a prescription medicine used in adults and children 1 year of age and older with Short Bowel Syndrome (SBS) who need additional nutrition or fluids from intravenous (IV) feeding (parenteral support). It is not known if GATTEX is safe and effective in children under 1 year of age.

For additional safety information, click here for full Prescribing Information and Medication Guide, and discuss any questions with your doctor.

To learn more about Short Bowel Syndrome and a prescription treatment visit https://www.gattex.com/short-bowel-syndrome/

Editor’s Note: This educational article is from one of our digital sponsors, Takeda. Sponsor support along with donations from our readers like you help to maintain our website and the free trusted resources of UOAA, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization.

©2025 Takeda Pharmaceuticals U.S.A., Inc. 1-877-TAKEDA-7 (1-877-825-3327). All rights reserved. Takeda and the Takeda logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of Takeda Pharmaceutical Company Limited. GATTEX and the GATTEX logo are registered trademarks of Takeda Pharmaceuticals U.S.A., Inc. US-TED-1649v1.0 11/25

 

Squid Game: The Challenge Contestant Embraces Life with an Ostomy

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My ileostomy and how it gave me the confidence to participate in such a wild adventure!

By Kathy Kelly #258

Squid Game: The Challenge Season 2 streams on Netflix starting November 4

At age 35, while pregnant with my 4th child, I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. The symptoms appeared out of nowhere during my pregnancy and unfortunately, because I was pregnant, there was very little that could be done to manage my disease.  After giving birth to my daughter, I immediately sought medical intervention to address my UC symptoms, but relief was terribly elusive.  I went from being an active, social, and extroverted person to not wanting to leave my house.  Not only did I have little to no control or predictability of my colon, but I also struggled with intense cramping, mouth sores, and copious blood loss.

Kathy Kelly is featured on the poster of Season 2 of Squid Game: The Challenge on Netflix.

Over the next 18 months, I tried several different “Biologics” and endured multiple rounds of steroids.  Each new medicine brought with it the hope of relief, but that hope was never realized as I never experienced meaningful healing.  I spiraled into thinking and feeling like I would never be healthy again – UC was now dictating the terms of my quality of life.

After nearly 20 months of a losing battle with UC, my doctor made me aware of the “nuclear” option – I could have my colon removed and be fully healed of UC.  In hindsight, it seems so obvious, but at the time, I remember shuddering at the thought.  Yes, my UC was awful and yes, I was spending all of my waking hours desperately trying to manage my symptoms.  But having “a bag” felt like it was way too extreme.  My husband and I discussed it and I met with other GI docs to discuss the process and the more I learned about it, the more the lifestyle was normalized for me.  I found people online that shared their experiences and one thing stuck out to me – they had control.  For nearly two years at this point, I had completely lacked control.

So, in May 2021, after 22 months of suffering in relative silence with UC and with the support of my medical team, I had my colon removed and was given an ileostomy.  While there was certainly an adjustment period – learning how to change my bag and care for my stoma – the immediate relief was shocking.  However, it wasn’t all positive.  Even some of my well-intentioned nurses would say things like “hopefully, this is just temporary and you’ll be back to normal soon”, and I remember feeling like neither my UC nor my new reality with an ileostomy was normal.  I quickly overcame that because of the obvious improvements to my health and quality of life. I made the decision just 4 months later to make my ileostomy permanent by having my rectum removed.

Having a permanent ileostomy has certainly been a journey – I had a peristomal hernia that required an additional surgery and I’ve experienced all of the typical “first timer” experiences – catastrophic leakages while on a date or at a friend’s house.  But, I can stay with completely certainty that my ileostomy has given me my life back.  I’m as active as ever.

I’m engaged in relationships with my husband, children, family, and friends.  I’m excited to be pushed out of comfort zone again – and to that end, I recently participated in Season 2 of Squid Game: The Challenge on Netflix!

We watched the first season of Squidgame Game: The Challenge as a family and we loved it! My husband made a silly comment to the kids saying “your mom would be able to kill all of those players” and when the kids saw that they were casting season 2, they begged me to apply. I just assumed my application would be lost in the thousands of emails, but fortunately something caught their attention!

It was an incredible experience that involved international travel, intense competition, and long hours of uninterrupted filming. My doctor even said limited bathroom breaks would probably be easier for me than most!

If I was still dealing with UC, I would’ve never trusted my body to take on something this challenging and stressful!  My ileostomy has restored my health, my energy, and my control and I’m incredibly grateful for it!

I think most of the friends I made while filming would be SHOCKED to learn I have no colon-which I love! My bag saved my life, and it’s something I’m really thankful for.

My husband was my biggest supporter. His encouragement allowed me to engage and play without any of the self-imposed pressure that had been building for months with this big secret! Now that the show is airing it is no surprise to friends that I would do something like this because I am so competitive and love engaging with people!

 

Editor’s note: You can now cheer on Kathy Kelly on Squid Game: The Challenge Season 2 on Netflix. Win or lose, we know the resilience of an ostomate is not a force to reckoned with! United Ostomy Associations of America, Inc. (UOAA) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization that supports, empowers, and advocates for people who have had or who will have ostomy or continent diversion surgery.

Catherine’s Story

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A long journey to an ostomy leads to a supportive community

I have suffered with digestive issues since I was a teen and the first symptoms I remember were back in high school.

I was a very shy, insecure young lady throughout high school and finding myself starting college, with growing concerns about my stomach, was very difficult for me. I started noticing urgency and stomach pains and when I moved into the dorms my symptoms got worse. Not only the stress of trying to fit in with so many new people, but for any of you that have eaten dorm food I’m sure you can understand why I struggled.

Fast forward four years, and I was getting married to the love of my life. He had just accepted that anywhere we went the first thing on the agenda was locating the bathrooms. After college we moved to a small town where I did not know anyone, I was a long distance away from my family for the first time and had a difficult time finding work. This is when I started to realize how much stress was impacting my abdominal pain. I began to blame the stomach pain on my anxiety and just accepted it as normal.

After we were married, we began to think about a family. More than anything I have always dreamed of being a mom. We tried for four years to get pregnant and the stress of constantly getting negative pregnancy tests really wore on me. We decided after many rounds of tests and exploratory surgery that we would try IVF. After a long process and the intense stress put on my body to prepare, IVF worked, and we were blessed with twins.

Unfortunately, this was the beginning of a new long and difficult road. I was considered a high-risk pregnancy from the start, and after all we had been through I felt like I was walking on eggshells through the pregnancy always afraid I was going to do something wrong.

I ended up being hospitalized at 20 weeks as my daughter’s sack was in the vaginal canal. I had a four week stay in the hospital where I was sewn shut and tilted onto my head to keep the babies in as long as possible. It was August and they weren’t due until January. The stress and fear for my children was overpowering.

Unfortunately, at 24 weeks my daughter decided she had waited long enough and pushed right through the stitches. They were born at 1lb 8 oz and 1lb 11oz. and the moment they were born they took them away into a special room because they were not breathing. When they moved us to the recovery room, we were told not to get our hopes up.

Two days after they were born, Megan had to be rushed to a new hospital because her lungs weren’t developed enough, and at 9 days old my son started spitting up green, they were only fed through a feeding tube at this point. I was terrified and did not know how they would do surgery on such a tiny baby.  I didn’t want to loose my little boy!

They went into surgery, and he came out with only 20% of his small intestine and an ileostomy. 80% of his small intestine did not form completely and was dead. This was our first experience with an ostomy, and it tore me apart knowing my baby needed this. Unfortunately, he continued to get weaker, and they had no choice but to reconnect him at 3 months as a last resort to save him. His sister had been sent home a couple weeks earlier and had been sharing a crib with her. He was sent home with a small chance of survival, but once he was reunited with his sister he began to thrive. He is now 26 and doing amazing!

When the twins were two years old my life was very stressful. I lost my dad to cancer and had a miscarriage in the same 24 hours. I was a daddy’s girl. He was there when I came into this world, and I was at his side when he left it. I miss him terribly to this day.

We were told there would be delays in their growth of our children for the first few years, but at the two year mark things seemed to suddenly slow down and after running further tests my babies were diagnosed with autism.

The loss of my father, a child, and the autism diagnosis seemed to push my stress levels even further and I started having horrible pains to the point where I couldn’t even stand up. Then the bleeding started.

I would have that urgency and when I reached the bathroom all I could get out was blood and it was horribly painful. I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside out, and I could only sit and rock back and forth. It took everything I Had just to care for the twins and somehow fight through growing pain and bleeding.

I felt like “This is it, all the pain will be over soon”. At that point my husband and my best friend both begged me to get the surgery

I was finally diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. When my daughter was old enough to play with her dollhouse the mommy doll was always on the toilet. That made me so sad that she noticed my illness at such a young age even if she didn’t truly understand.

Throughout the years it would bounce between Crohn’s and Colitis. At one point they called it ulcerative Crohn’s. I was 29 when I was diagnosed, and at 41 years old I had my first hospitalization. Looking back, I should have been in the hospital a few times, but that would be accepting how serious things had become.

They mentioned removing my colon, but I am ashamed to admit I said I’d rather die. Somehow, I recovered enough to go home after a week despite still being weak and struggling.

After years of caring for my children I needed to work and was able to start a new job. This is where I was first exposed to a nutrition practitioner who helped me realize I had food sensitivities and supported me with good nutrition and whole food supplementation. I was beginning to flare and worried I would lose my job having to run to the bathroom so frequently at work, but they reassured me they were dedicated to helping me get my life back. It was overwhelming at first, but after 6 months I finally felt like I could live again.

I had many good years after that but still struggled with small bouts now and then. I had multiple back surgeries that seemed to cause flare ups, but I was able to recover each time. After 2020 I started having a horrible flare every year around the same time. At one point, trying to drive my son to work, I had to park and had diarrhea in the garbage in the back seat of the car. I couldn’t even get into the building.

At this point I was terrified to even leave the house and if I did, I became exhausted so quickly I could barely get anything done. I was afraid to eat so I was losing weight and becoming weaker by the day.

At 52 I was hospitalized with severe pain and bleeding again.  I felt as though I was being torn in half and this time it felt worse than usual.  I was in the hospital for the best part of two months. They would send me home and I would have to go back one to two days later in severe pain after my husband would push me to go. Deep inside I knew what they were going to tell me, and I fought to stay home trying to convince myself I could get over it on my own.

I walked into a room of smiling people there to support each other and they were very welcoming to newcomers.

On one of my final returns to the hospital they said I was unresponsive to the steroid infusions. By the time the surgeon talked to me I was under 90 pounds, but I still told him I did not want ostomy surgery. He was completely honest with me and said I either have surgery and because I was so weak already, I might not make it through. Without surgery I would not survive.

I cried so hard. I did not want this for my life.

The last time I was sent home before surgery I could not eat. I would try but the food would make me so sick I couldn’t bear putting anything in my mouth. It got so bad I couldn’t even get water down. I remember sitting on the toilet in pain and, all of a sudden, I just felt this feeling of peace and that everything was going to be ok.

I was going home.

I felt like “This is it, all the pain will be over soon”. At that point my husband and my best friend both begged me to get the surgery. It dawned on me that my poor husband had been trying to take care of me with a TBI and my twins had autism. My family still needed me.

I went back into the hospital and was so weak they had to give me TPN for a week in the hope they could get me strong enough for surgery. I am blessed that I had a wonderful surgeon, and everything went as well as it could. Many people said when they woke from this kind of surgery, they immediately noticed the pain was gone. I had hoped I would wake up have that feeling, but I was still in so much pain. I felt so emotionally broken I couldn’t bring myself to look at my stoma for days after the surgery.

My husband, bless his heart, was right there from the moment I came out of surgery watching the nurses empty so he could learn how to help me. I cried through my first handful of bag changes. My bag was covering two open wounds, and it hurt so badly when they had to remove the adhesive barrier. I couldn’t stand it whenever they came in to change my pouch and remembered thinking there was no way I could live like this. I went home a week later and had home health care along with TPN IVs and steroids. I was hooked up to a large bag of fluid each night to try to get nutrients back into my body since eating was still a challenge.

I had to learn how to properly walk and move again from my muscles wasting away but slowly I became stronger over the next few months. After about a month of care I decided I didn’t want to be miserable, and I would embrace this. It was a mental turning point for me, and I started wanting to do all my bag changes myself and worked hard to recuperate.

At about 6 months I started to slowly exercise again and was looking for a support group. My experiences with online support groups at this point were frustrating. It seemed like a lot of negativity and not much support. I was doing research online to find support and information to life as positively as I could and I found UOAA’s website and a local support group.

Walking into this support group meeting, I was nervous that it would just be a bunch of people complaining but it was just the opposite.

I walked into a room of smiling people there to support each other and they were very welcoming to newcomers. After a few visits to this UOAA Affiliated Support Group, one member even volunteered to help with my workouts since there were risks to strengthening your core after surgery.

I was finally starting to feel confident in my new life, but once again, there was an unexpected turn in my recovery. 10 Months in, out of nowhere, I started feeling severe pain in my abdomen that I could not control. It came on suddenly, and when I started vomiting, I called my surgeon. He was concerned since I wasn’t that far out of my surgery and shouldn’t be having these issues, so he sent me to the ER.

I learned it is ok to have bad days as long as I don’t dwell in them and firmly embrace my good days.

After being admitted to the hospital for a blockage I was not responding to treatment the way I should have so I was scheduled for immediate surgery. My surgeon went in and found my small intestine had twisted and was turning purple. I am so blessed that he found it in time and was able to save what was left.

Unfortunately, I developed a reaction to the dissolvable stitches and had open wounds for over 3 months. These open wounds created challenges that kept my bag from adhering to my skin. Honestly this surgery affected me mentally more than my ostomy surgery. The scars and puckering from infection still mess with my head but I am learning to love my new body.

I recently attended the UOAA National Conference in Orlando and this was the best thing I could have done. My husband made a comment that that was the most confident he had seen me in a long time. I felt so much love and support there. I also met some amazing people who reinforced my mental and emotional recovery.

I learned it is ok to have bad days as long as I don’t dwell in them and firmly embrace my good days. I have been feeling a push to share my story to hopefully help and support others in the way I have through my journey. I look forward to finding ways to inspire others and make a difference in our community.

I have to say my quality of life has drastically improved. Don’t get me wrong, there are hard days and challenges, but I can face them without the pain and exhaustion that held me back for so many years.

I am still here for my family and can continue to help people with my career in Nutrition Response Testing. I can say I am truly grateful and blessed to have this ostomy and hope I can inspire others and help them along in their journey!

MY JOURNEY TO BECOMING A CERTIFIED OSTOMY NURSE

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UOAA is excited to announce that the 2025 recipient of the Educational Award for Ostomy Nurse Certification is Erin Young from California!

Below Erin shares a little bit about herself and her motivation to become a certified ostomy nurse.

I am incredibly grateful to have been awarded a scholarship to support my ostomy certification education. This generous gift eases the financial aspect of continuing my education, but more importantly, it serves as a reminder of the encouragement and belief others have in my journey. Having this investment enables me to give back in meaningful ways to the ostomate community and inspires me to keep moving forward with purpose.

I have wanted to be a nurse for as long as I can remember. My dream began in kindergarten and has guided me ever since. I started my healthcare journey as a Certified Nursing Assistant while attending nursing school. For the past six years, I have been fortunate to work in diverse areas like telemetry, oncology, intermediate care, and a GI clinic. Each role has helped me grow as a nurse, teaching me new skills, deepening my compassion, and showing me how healthcare can change lives.

I want to support the ostomate community not just with clinical expertise, but also with empathy rooted in shared experience.

Becoming a certified ostomy nurse is more than just a career goal for me, but is something that feels deeply personal. Seven years ago, I received a life-changing medical diagnosis that sent me down an unexpected road. I underwent a total colectomy and ultimately chose to have a j-pouch. Several years later, I became a member of the ostomate community when I had surgery for an ileostomy. This profound experience has been transformative in ways I never could have imagined. Surgery restored my health, but it also introduced me to the physical and emotional challenges that come with adjusting to living with an ostomy. I’ve learned firsthand what it feels like to navigate those vulnerable, overwhelming moments, and I know how meaningful it is to connect with someone who truly understands.

Pursuing certification as an ostomy nurse feels like a calling. I want to support the ostomate community not just with clinical expertise, but also with empathy rooted in shared experience. Saying “I’ve been there too” builds trust and comfort that textbooks can’t teach. Every day, I bring that understanding to the bedside. My goal is to give back to the community that supported me and to be the nurse I leaned on after surgery. I want my patients to feel seen, heard, and never alone. Every patient deserves this.

Becoming a certified ostomy nurse is not just a career move, it’s a calling that is the culmination of my lived experience and the start of a purposeful contribution to a field that changed my life. I see it as a way to advance my career and make a meaningful difference for patients facing an isolating experience. I’m ready to give back, to lead with compassion, and to help others not just survive, but thrive with an ostomy. This journey honors my past, embraces my present, and dedicates my future to caring for others living with ostomies.

Congratulations, Erin!

The next scholarship application will open, pending funding availability, in January 2026 and closes on June 30, 2026. 

 

Find an Ostomy Nurse

World Ostomy Day Champion Keely Cat-Wells is a Leader in Breaking Down Barriers

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Keely Cat-Wells is approaching the 10th anniversary of her ileostomy surgery. Before the surgery at 17, Keely endured years of misdiagnoses, experimental procedures, and was incorrectly told her pain was imagined. She was forced to leave college and put aside her dream of becoming a professional dancer. The experience left scars of trauma, but it also gave her a perspective that continues to fuel her mission today.

Living with chronic illness, PTSD and a permanent ileostomy, she has turned those challenges into resilience and purpose. In the years since, she has found joy, adventure, and meaning, advocating alongside friends, building new pathways for others, and creating opportunities she once wished had existed for herself.

That lived experience directly informs her role as the founder and CEO of Making Space, a talent and learning platform that has supported over 10,000 Disabled professionals through employment and education, and was recently named one of Forbes’ Top 100 Companies in Accessibility.

United Ostomy Associations of America (UOAA) has named Keely as this year’s World Ostomy Day Champion. The International Ostomy Association determined this year’s theme as “Invisible Disabilities. Visible Support. The Global Unity of Ostomates and the day is being celebrated on Saturday, October 4, 2025.

Highlighting ostomy awareness is about normalizing the conversation, breaking down barriers of shame, and ensuring that others with ostomies see themselves represented with dignity.

“Being a World Ostomy Day Champion is a huge honour. It’s about using my platform to bring visibility to a community that is tooPhoto of Keely a white woman with blond hair wearing a black midriff shirt with a black ostomy pouch just visible above the waistline of her black pants.  often overlooked, even within the wider disability movement. Having an ostomy has shaped so much of my lived experience, and I know how isolating it can feel when society erases or stigmatizes something so fundamental to your health and survival,” she says.

Keely is a Forbes 30 Under 30 honoree, the youngest-ever Presidential Leadership Scholar, and a Gloria Steinem Fellow. Keely has served on the advisory board of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way Foundation and has written on disability employment and representation in TIME, Fast Company, Rolling Stone, and more.

She also co-produced a film with Reese Witherspoon’s Hello Sunshine that helped spark policy reform for Disabled travelers, and has spoken at leading companies, governments, and global institutions to challenge perceptions of disability.

Prior to founding Making Space, Keely founded C Talent, a talent agency that reshaped disability representation in media and grew a roster reaching more than 50 million people. Acquired in 2022, C Talent became the largest acquisition of a company specializing in Disabled talent.

Raising ostomy awareness is a passion for Keely.

“Highlighting ostomy awareness is about normalizing the conversation, breaking down barriers of shame, and ensuring that others with ostomies see themselves represented with dignity. It’s also about pushing for systemic change, because accessibility, healthcare, and inclusion must extend to every part of our lives, including how we navigate the world with medical devices,” she says.

“We have legal rights, and our access needs must be upheld. Public restroom access, supply coverage, and travel accommodations, and more are disability justice issues, not optional extras.”

UOAA recognizes that not all people living with an ostomy feel a connection to this year’s “Invisible Disabilities” theme or the larger Disability rights movement but we seek to educate all ostomates on their workplace rights and federal ADA protections. UOAA works toward a society where people with ostomies and intestinal or urinary diversions are universally accepted and supported socially, economically, medically, and psychologically.

Living with an ostomy means navigating many of the same barriers faced by other Disabled people: inaccessible spaces, employment discrimination, lack of workplace accommodations, and stigma that silences.Keely wearing black on the white marble steps of the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, DC

“Disability is broad, diverse, and intersectional. Including ostomates within the movement strengthens it, ensuring that no Disabled person feels left out of their own community,” Keely says. “It is easy to feel “not Disabled enough” within disability spaces, and it is also easy to feel “too Disabled” in non-Disabled spaces.” She believes ostomate stories can change perceptions of what disability looks like and that our experiences deserve to be seen and valued within the broader Disability community.

“We have legal rights, and our access needs must be upheld. Public restroom access, supply coverage, and travel accommodations, and more are disability justice issues, not optional extras.”

In her 10 years with an ostomy Keely has seen positive changes in ostomy awareness and acceptance.

“It has been awesome watching the increase in people sharing their stories openly on social media. What used to feel like something hidden or stigmatized is now being reclaimed with pride, people are creating visibility, building community, and sparking action just by speaking their truth.”

In her business work she has also seen brands start to reflect change. “When companies like LEGO include ostomy representation in their products, it sends such a strong message: that our experiences are valid, visible, and worth celebrating. Representation like that normalizes the conversation and gives young people a chance to grow up seeing themselves reflected in the world around them.”

Of course, both Keely and UOAA recognize that there’s still work to do.

“Stigma remains, and too many people continue to face discrimination, lack of access to the right supplies, or barriers when traveling and working. To keep driving progress, we all need to keep telling our stories, keep pushing for policy changes, and keep holding brands, governments, and healthcare systems accountable.”

To find out more from Keely Cat-Wells, check out the upcoming Hidden Disabilities Sunflower Conversations Podcast on October 4 where she appears alongside Nate Hadlock, Chair of UOAA’s Patient Advisory Board. To get involved in World Ostomy Day 2025 please visit https://www.ostomy.org/world-ostomy-day/

DENISE: LIVING WITH SHORT BOWEL SYNDROME

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For most of my life, I measured the time it would take me to make it safely to the bathroom. If the bathroom dash was an Olympic event, I’d have won a gold medal! I often use humor when I talk about my condition, short bowel syndrome (SBS). But my story is one of hope, and how staying hopeful has helped me through each day. Of course, it was more than that. Living with a serious and chronic gastrointestinal disorder like SBS can require determination, persistence, and yes, even a sense of humor. I’m thankful I’ve had one my whole life. My name is Denise and this is my story.

If you are living with Short Bowel Syndrome and rely on parenteral support, there’s an SBS Mentor available to connect with you. Click here to learn more.

My Story Begins

As a teenager, I had an ongoing argument with my brother and sisters. Whenever it was time to do the dishes, I had to use the bathroom. They never realized that the reason that I had to use the bathroom every time we were done eating was because I had a medical issue. They just noticed that when it was my turn to do dishes I always disappeared. Nobody knew what was happening. In our family, we never went to the doctor and you put up with whatever you had going on. My dad and I were always racing each other to the bathroom to see who could get there first. I realize now that my father probably had some form of bowel disease, but he never was diagnosed.

When I was 18, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. But I was determined to never let it get in my way. I got married and had three beautiful daughters. Along the way, I took a job as a 9-1-1 operator and eventually entered the police academy and became a police officer. Unfortunately, my first marriage didn’t last, but in time I met, fell in love with and eventually married a man who was then a member of the SWAT team. At that time, I finally felt like my life was falling into place—except for my recurrent Crohn’s flare-ups. Over the years, I had several surgeries caused by bowel obstructions. Each occurrence sent my determination into overtime. I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. I powered through each occurrence hoping it would be my last.

Then in 2009, even my unflappable hope and determination were tested after I retired from the police department. In November of that year, my husband developed a tumor on his spine, which left him paralyzed from the chest down. During this time, I cared for him and didn’t think about my Crohn’s disease at all. Although I didn’t want to admit it, the stress of caring for my husband around the clock took its toll on me. My Crohn’s disease got my attention like a house of bricks falling on top of me and one after another, complications set in.

Setbacks, Sepsis and Surgery

My daughter and her spouse moved in to help take care of my husband. Eventually I was hospitalized with yet another obstruction. Each time that I thought I was getting better, I’d suffer another setback. I became septic and had to go back to the hospital. I had an ileostomy to give my intestines and bowels a rest. If you are not familiar with an ileostomy, it is a surgically created opening in the abdomen in which a piece of the ileum (lowest part of the small intestine) is brought outside the abdominal wall. A stoma is created through which digested food passes into an external pouching system.

I was in the hospital for weeks, but I continued to worsen. I had horrible diarrhea and my electrolytes were off. Then I began having heart problems and was placed in the intensive care unit (ICU), where my kidneys began to fail. My body began shutting down and I was transferred to a specialty clinic. I was there for a month.

When I was finally discharged, I couldn’t leave the house for fear of having an accident if the ileostomy bag became too full and leaked—which it frequently did! After my surgery, food was moving too rapidly from my stomach to small intestines, an issue known as “dumping syndrome” – which caused me to experience a high volume of diarrhea. I had trouble keeping a good seal on my stoma site. Because of this, the skin surrounding my stoma became raw and infected. It was a vicious cycle!

My Diagnosis: Short Bowel Syndrome

Even after my ileostomy was reversed, I had limited bowel control. I was in and out of the hospital for over a year, and in November 2013 I was diagnosed with short bowel syndrome or SBS. SBS is a rare, serious and chronic malabsorption disorder that occurs when parts of the intestine are removed, and the remaining intestine may not be able to absorb enough nutrients from food and drink. In adults, SBS can develop from a loss of function and surgical removal of parts of the intestine due to inflammatory bowel disease (IBD), such as Crohn’s disease. I sat there in shock. The thought of living like this for the rest of my life left me numb. When we returned home. I immediately went online. The more I read, the more I was worried. But then I realized, I could do this. Yes, having SBS would impact my life more than I initially thought, but it wouldn’t stop me.

At that time, since I could barely take care of myself, my husband had to stay at a nursing home.
My life was a roller coaster, out of control. I was confined to home by SBS. I would eat and have to use
the bathroom five minutes later.

I told my doctor, “I can’t live like this; this isn’t living. I don’t see my friends. I’m crying all the time.” Because I wasn’t able to absorb food or nutrients, I was placed on different forms of parenteral support, or PS. Monday through Saturday I had a large bag of clear saline solution and I had to administer the medications into the bag. The transfusion took 12 hours to complete. Then I had total parenteral nutrition (TPN) infusions at night. The infusions really limited my ability to get out of the house and be active. And when I did get out, I had to pack an emergency bag whenever I left the house in case I had an accident. I had cleaning supplies, garbage bags for soiled clothes, and clean clothing. It was so embarrassing having an accident when out with friends, shopping, going to the doctor, going to the dentist, going to the grocery store, mowing the lawn, or even talking to my neighbors. I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. I chose laughter because I was afraid to cry.

Starting An SBS Treatment

In May 2015, my determination and optimism were about at their limit when my doctor told me about a medication called GATTEX® (teduglutide) for subcutaneous injection. He told me I might be a good candidate to try GATTEX, which is a prescription medicine approved for use in adults and children 1 year of age and older with short bowel syndrome who need additional nutrition or fluids from intravenous (IV) feeding. This type of IV feeding is also known as parenteral support (PS). It is not known if GATTEX is safe and effective in children under 1 year of age.

We talked about the potential benefits and risks of the medication, including the risk of serious side effects including making abnormal cells grow faster, polyps in the intestines, blockage of the bowel (intestines), swelling (inflammation) or blockage of the gallbladder or pancreas, and fluid overload. Learning about these potential side effects led me to hesitate a bit, but I believed that if I didn’t try to treat my condition, it would remain the same or could even get worse. These are not all the possible side effects, so anyone considering GATTEX treatment should talk to their own healthcare professional or medical team. I weighed the risks and benefits, and my doctor and I decided together that I should start GATTEX.

Please continue reading for additional Important Safety Information.

Within six months, I was able to reduce my parenteral support (PS) with GATTEX, which meant less PS at night—with fewer accidents and more sleep. While this was my experience with GATTEX, others may have different treatment experiences. I still sometimes have uncontrolled bowel movements and I sleep on a pad. Because I still never know when an uncontrolled bowel movement may happen, I wear a pad if I’m going to be out of the house for a while, just in case. But I no longer have to carry a PS backpack with me. After being on GATTEX for a number of months, with the help and monitoring of my doctor, I was able to come off my PS. With less PS I was able to do things I enjoy.

I admit, I don’t love giving myself a shot every day. I always hesitate for a nanosecond and then surprise myself. Some days are easier than others. I do my shot at bedtime and rotate it around the four sections of my abdomen.

I can’t adequately describe my joy that GATTEX has worked well for me! Sure, I still have problems now and then, but really, who doesn’t have problems in life? It’s such a relief that I can leave home and enjoy the things I love! I travel, visit friends, go to the grocery store, play pickleball, and even golf!

If you’re diagnosed with SBS, don’t give up. There are times when I took life an hour at a time. I’d encourage you to focus on going forward. In my experience, it helps to have supportive friends and family, and a trusting relationship with the medical team helping you. My doctor has dietitians on staff and they work with my nutrition plan to help ensure I’m making good choices. My doctor orders tests to check my levels. If any of the results are “off,” I’m then advised of any changes that need to be made.

Today, I’ve hung up my Olympic medal for the bathroom dash and that’s just fine with me. I’ve faced the difficulties of living with short bowel syndrome and once again discovered hope, persistence, and laughter.

IMPORTANT SAFETY INFORMATION

What is the most important information I should know about GATTEX? GATTEX may cause serious side effects, including:

Making abnormal cells grow faster

GATTEX can make abnormal cells that are already in your body grow faster. There is an increased risk that abnormal cells could become cancer. If you get cancer of the bowel (intestines), liver, gallbladder or pancreas while using GATTEX, your healthcare provider should stop GATTEX. If you get other types of cancers, you and your healthcare provider should discuss the risks and benefits of using GATTEX.

Polyps in the intestines 

Polyps are growths on the inside of the intestines. For adult patients, your healthcare provider will have your colon and upper intestines checked for polyps within 6 months before starting GATTEX, and have any polyps removed. To keep using GATTEX, your healthcare provider should have your colon and upper intestines checked for polyps at the end of 1 year of using GATTEX.

For pediatric patients, your healthcare provider will check for blood in the stool within 6 months before starting GATTEX. If there is blood in the stool, your healthcare provider will check your colon and upper intestines for polyps, and have any polyps removed. To keep using GATTEX, your healthcare provider will check for blood in the stool every year during treatment of GATTEX. If there is blood in the stool, your healthcare provider will check your colon and upper intestines for polyps. The colon will be checked for polyps at the end of 1 year of using GATTEX.

For adult and pediatric patients, if no polyp is found at the end of 1 year, your healthcare provider should check you for polyps as needed and at least every 5 years. If any new polyps are found, your healthcare provider will have them removed and may recommend additional monitoring. If cancer is found in a polyp, your healthcare provider should stop GATTEX.

Blockage of the bowel (intestines)

A bowel blockage keeps food, fluids, and gas from moving through the bowels in the normal way. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you have any of these symptoms of a bowel or stomal blockage:

  • trouble having a bowel movement or passing gas
  • stomach area (abdomen) pain or swelling
  • nausea
  • vomiting
  • swelling and blockage of your stoma opening, if you have a stoma

If a blockage is found, your healthcare provider may temporarily stop GATTEX.

Swelling (inflammation) or blockage of your gallbladder or pancreas

Your healthcare provider will do tests to check your gallbladder and pancreas within 6 months before starting GATTEX and at least every 6 months while you are using GATTEX. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you get:

  • stomach area (abdomen) pain and tenderness
  • chills
  • fever
  • a change in your stools
  • nausea
  • vomiting
  • dark urine
  • yellowing of your skin or the whites of your eyes

Fluid overload

Your healthcare provider will check you for too much fluid in your body. Too much fluid in your body may lead to heart failure, especially if you have heart problems. Tell your healthcare provider if you get swelling in your feet and ankles, you gain weight very quickly (water weight), or you have trouble breathing.

The most common side effects of GATTEX include:

  • stomach area (abdomen) pain or swelling
  • nausea
  • cold or flu symptoms
  • skin reaction where the injection was given
  • vomiting
  • swelling of the hands or feet
  • allergic reactions

The side effects of GATTEX in children and adolescents are similar to those seen in adults. Tell your healthcare provider if you have any side effect that bothers you or that does not go away.

What should I tell my healthcare provider before using GATTEX?

Tell your healthcare provider about all your medical conditions, including if you or your child:

  • have cancer or a history of cancer
  • have or had polyps anywhere in your bowel (intestines) or rectum
  • have heart problems
  • have high blood pressure
  • have problems with your gallbladder, pancreas, kidneys
  • are pregnant or planning to become It is not known if GATTEX will harm your unborn baby. Tell your healthcare provider right away if you become pregnant while using GATTEX.
  • are breastfeeding or plan to It is not known if GATTEX passes into your breast milk. You should not breastfeed during treatment with GATTEX. Talk to your healthcare provider about the best way to feed your baby while using GATTEX.

Tell your healthcare providers about all the medicines you take, including prescription or over-the counter medicines, vitamins, and herbal supplements. Using GATTEX with certain other medicines may affect each other causing side effects. Your other healthcare providers may need to change the dose of any oral medicines (medicines taken by mouth) you take while using GATTEX. Tell the healthcare provider who gives you GATTEX if you will be taking a new oral medicine.

Call your doctor for medical advice about side effects. You are encouraged to report negative side effects of prescription drugs to the FDA. Visit www.fda.gov/medwatch or call 1-800-FDA-1088.

What is GATTEX®?

GATTEX® (teduglutide) for subcutaneous injection is a prescription medicine used in adults and children 1 year of age and older with Short Bowel Syndrome (SBS) who need additional nutrition or fluids from intravenous (IV) feeding (parenteral support). It is not known if GATTEX is safe and effective in children under 1 year of age.

For additional safety information, click here for full Prescribing Information and Medication Guide, and discuss any questions with your doctor.

To learn more about Short Bowel Syndrome and a prescription treatment visit https://www.gattex.com/short-bowel-syndrome/

Editor’s Note: This educational article is from one of our digital sponsors, Takeda. Sponsor support along with donations from our readers like you help to maintain our website and the free trusted resources of UOAA, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization.

©2025 Takeda Pharmaceuticals U.S.A., Inc. 1-877-TAKEDA-7 (1-877-825-3327). All rights reserved.
Takeda and the Takeda logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of Takeda Pharmaceutical Company Limited.
GATTEX and the GATTEX logo are registered trademarks of Takeda Pharmaceuticals U.S.A., Inc. US-TED-1644v1.0 08/25

 

Resilience Story: Matt Marra

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A couple years ago, I wasn’t thinking much about my health. I was a little overweight, but nothing alarming. Life was busy working full-time while chasing around two wild but wonderful kids under five.

Then in November 2023, everything changed. I started bleeding when I used the bathroom. Over time, the urgency and frequency increased, and I found myself going 6–8 times a day. After bouncing between urgent care, my primary doctor, and a GI specialist, I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in January 2024.

Those three months waiting for a diagnosis were a mental warzone. Googling symptoms like “dark red blood in stool” returns a fun list: hemorrhoids, IBD, and cancer. While I was relieved to finally have a diagnosis, IBD wasn’t something I ever imagined dealing with.

At first, I managed with diet. I avoided trigger foods and even used ChatGPT to check what I could safely eat when dining out. But during a vacation in February I flared badly. What was supposed to be a beautiful cruise celebrating my brother’s and sister-in-law’s marriage ended up being an endless visit to excursions on the toilet and lying in bed. On the flight home, I had to abandon my 3-year-old in his seat four separate times to rush to the bathroom. It was a rude awakening to how terrible ulcerative colitis and iBD in general could be, and created a new fear constantly in the back of my mind that the next thing I eat or do may make me sick for weeks at a time. Things did not get better when we got back.

On Monday, March 4th, I went to the ER thinking I’d get some medication and go home. Instead, I was admitted. “Steroids always help! You’ll be out in a few days,” they said. But by the weekend, I was even worse.

Then I tried biologics. “Infusions never fail,” they told me about 30 minutes before I failed my first one.

After multiple failed treatments, and now two weeks into my hospital stay, I was transferred overnight to a hospital in the city. Surgery was mentioned early on as a worst-case scenario, just in case. My brother had questions for the surgical team at that time, but I brushed them off: “We’re so far from that! There’s no way it’s going to happen.”

Flash forward to the third week. I was exhausted, nauseated, and in pain. Surgery stopped being the last resort. I wanted it. I told the surgeon I wished the decision would be made for me, because mentally, I wasn’t strong enough to choose that road on my own.

On Friday, March 22nd, after continued lack of progress, my care team made the call: it was time. My colon had perforated. I was rushed into emergency surgery for a total colectomy. I woke up with an ileostomy and a new chapter ahead.

Adjusting to a stoma was overwhelming. Seeing a piece of your intestine, or stoma, outside your body doesn’t exactly quickly become “normal.” I hadn’t even realized, 30+ years into life, that people pooped out of their stomachs. My wife and I were told we were brave during ostomy training, since many people can’t even bear to look at themselves post-surgery. I didn’t feel brave, just dazed. But I found ways, through products and routine, to feel okay in my own skin.

At the 5k, I met people who had lived with ostomies for years, people who got it. That sense of community grounded me. Seeing others thrive helped me believe I could, too.

Matt Marra showing his ostomy belt while running the Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k in Illinois, his first year after surgery. Photo by Anne Marra.

Discovering My Resilience

Managing leaks, mastering appliance changes, showering without disaster, sleeping through the night without anxiety, all of it took time. There were 3 a.m. blowouts. There were tears. There was grief and anger.

But I adapted. The stoma became a part of me. Most of the time, I didn’t notice it — and neither did anyone else. I could eat again. I didn’t obsess over bathroom access. I had energy. I had my life back.

And most importantly — my ostomy saved my life.

I spent 30 nights in the hospital. On the worst days, walking three laps around the floor felt like running a marathon. I told myself: just make it to the next milestone. So when I saw the UOAA’s 2024 Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k in Downers Grove, Illinois, I signed up, not just to raise awareness, but to prove something to myself.

Crossing that finish line in just my second-ever 5k was emotional. It felt like a full-circle moment. I was back. Maybe not the same. But just as strong.

Support made all the difference. My wife Anne helped with bag changes, middle-of-the-night cleanups, and the emotional weight of it all. My brothers, Nick and Joe, made sure I was never alone during those long hospital nights.

At the 5k, I met people who had lived with ostomies for years — people who got it. That sense of community grounded me. Seeing others thrive helped me believe I could, too.

From March 2024 to June 2025, I lived a very full life with my ostomy. I traveled to weddings in Mexico and Colorado. I climbed mountains. I flew to Austria and Slovakia for a week-long work trip. Ten-hour flights used to terrify me. Now? No problem. My ostomy didn’t hold me back. If anything, it gave me freedom.

I continue to push myself, no matter the challenges. To show my kids what resilience means.

To every UC patient I’ve talked to about surgery: no, I don’t get a commission. I just know what my ostomy did for me. How UC wrecked my life, and how surgery gave me peace, physically and mentally. I know my path was fast: diagnosis to surgery in five months. But in some ways, I’m grateful. I didn’t suffer for years. I got my life back sooner. For as mentally draining as it was to constantly worry about my health, what I was eating, and where the closest bathroom were – I can only imagine what that is like for those that have been through this for decades battling their chronic IBD.

My ostomy was temporary, though it felt like a permanent part of me. I had two more surgeries, in March and June 2025, to transition to a J-pouch. The stoma is gone, but the scar remains. A battle scar. A reminder. And something I’ll always be thankful for.

For most of my time with an ostomy, I asked: “Why me?” What were the odds? Could I have avoided this if one treatment had worked?

But near the end of my journey, that shifted. I started thinking: “Wow… I’m glad I had an ostomy.” Because it taught me I could not just survive with it but that I could live a full life with it. Looking back on those early conversations in the hospital, when the idea of pooping out of your stomach felt surreal, I never imagined I’d feel that way just one year later.

I continue to push myself, no matter the challenges. To show my kids what resilience means. That no matter what knocks you down, you get back up.

And this October, I’ll lace up again for the 2025 Run for Resilience for yet another milestone. Another chance to prove I’m still standing and thriving.

 

 

Visit Matt’s Run for Resilience fundraiser at https://runsignup.com/marra to support the nonprofit programs and services of UOAA. To learn more or sign-up for a Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k near you or virtually visit ostomy.org/5k.