Surviving colorectal cancer, reversal complications, and living with faith & perseverance

In June 2018, Osmani Gonzalez began a new exercise program to help him lose weight and kickstart a healthier lifestyle. Two months into his new routine, the then 42-year-old began to experience abdominal pain. Gonzalez assumed it was due to his workouts, but the pain foreshadowed a much more severe issue.

His discomfort only worsened over time, and in August 2018, Gonzalez, who was born in Havana, Cuba, and raised in Hialeah, Florida, was rushed to a nearby hospital with a swollen abdomen.

To alleviate his pain and to clear an obstruction in his colon, he underwent surgery for an ileostomy. During this procedure, surgeons build an opening in the abdominal wall by bringing the end of the small intestine out onto the surface of the skin, creating an opening for his intestinal waste to pass through into an ostomy bag attached to his abdomen. Unfortunately, the news that came after his procedure was not favorable – Gonzalez was diagnosed with Stage 2 colon cancer.

He cried along with his wife of 23 years Aleida, and despite not knowing what they were getting into remembers them saying, “We are going to fight it, good or bad we will try our best.”

Gonzalez thinks patients should also find time to have empathy for others. “It’s so important to understand the caregiver and ask how they are doing and to never forget that they are going through similar things,” Gonzalez says. He received 12 sessions of chemotherapy for six months. While in the hospital for treatment during the Christmas Holiday Gonzalez, who is an advocate and speaker for father engagement in K through 12 education and active in several area PTA’s where he raised two children, had an idea to bring some cheer to fellow patients by having local children draw cards of support to his fellow patients.

Gonzalez’s cancer went into remission and was told he no longer needed the ostomy.

In February 2019, Gonzalez underwent reversal surgery. However, three days after the procedure, he woke up in horrible pain, and a CT scan revealed there was a leak in his intestine and his staples had come undone. After the blood system was contaminated, Gonzalez was diagnosed with sepsis shock and had to undergo another surgery to have an ileostomy again. Afterward, Mr. Gonzalez was put in a medically induced coma for 18 days.

“At that point, my wife was given very little hope and was told just to pray and prepare for the worst,” Gonzalez said.

When he woke up from the coma, he began occupational and physical therapies and was on an IV drip to help alleviate his constant dehydration. Gonzalez learned to walk and perform basic physical activities. He used a wheelchair for more than three months while he recovered.

Even with the support he was receiving, Gonzalez’s kidneys began to fail. During one of his many trips to the ER, a gastroenterologist suspected he was suffering from short bowel syndrome, a condition in which your body is unable to absorb enough nutrients from the foods you eat because you do not have enough intestine.

“We all have downs and need motivation. Whatever it is you grab onto, you have to have a why and decide to live.”

Gonzalez was rushed to the Hospital’s emergency department and referred to a well-known trauma surgeon and surgical critical care specialist. “He came weighing 176 pounds, and in six months, he kept losing even more weight,” Gonzales recalls the doctor saying. “We only had 125 centimeters of small intestine to stabilize him.”

For Gonzalez to get better, the Doctor placed him on Total Parenteral Nutrition (TPN) so his body could receive the nutrition needed to strengthen his intestines. Over the next two years, Gonzalez continued receiving TPN and seeing the Doctor biweekly, undergoing continuous lab work to monitor his progress.

Despite frequent challenges with ostomy leaks and TPN he would go out fishing and continued to push himself to do things he loved. He remembers one time after a shower attempting to stop an active stoma with his hand and making quite a mess, “My wife just said it’s better laughing than crying,” he recalls with a smile.

On June 25, 2021, he was taken off the TPN and underwent a successful reversal surgery to repair his intestines, clean up scar tissue, and remove the stoma.

On July 9, he went home with a feeding tube and by September 13, he was on a regular and independent diet. His doctor told him, “He’s been one of the most optimistic patients I have ever cared for.”

While going through this medical journey, Gonzalez had to reduce his workflow with his construction company to focus on his health. Mr. Gonzalez is currently enrolled in a program slowly allowing him to join the workforce again. He has been working in construction management and is gradually entering a more active lifestyle.

“I look at life differently now. My focus is improving daily and being more involved in my kids’ lives,” Gonzalez said. “I’m extremely grateful to the Doctor and my care team at the hospital for performing this miracle.”

Gonzalez has expressed what a blessing it has been to have met Lynn Wolfson of the South Florida Ostomy and Tube Feeding/HPN Support Group, which provides support and comfort to other ostomy patients and guides patients through their journey of living with these conditions.

Gonzalez recently had the chance to share his story with the group and UOAA followers around the country on a Zoom presentation. He stressed the mental aspects of recovery and looking beyond day-to-day challenges.

“Keep pushing and do what you love, sometimes even when you don’t want to do something, once you start the process your feelings change,” Gonzalez says. “We all have downs and need motivation. Whatever it is you grab onto, you have to have a why and decide to live.”

Choosing Ostomy Surgery

Before I got diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, I had zero health issues throughout my life, except for high blood pressure. Fast forward to age 26 and I started experiencing a lot of blood in my stool with no idea why. I can be a stubborn person so I didn’t tell anyone what was happening; not even the people closest to me. A few months went by and my mother noticed blood in the toilet pretty consistently and asked me about it. I told her that it had been going on for months and that I didn’t know why.

We ended up going to our local gastroenterologist and they did tests and I got diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Obviously, I had no idea what it was but he said that I would need to change my diet and to watch what I eat. Fast forward a year or more and I had already been through two GIs and I was being sent to another. They said that I had a very severe case of ulcerative colitis. Meanwhile, around two years in I lost the ability to be able to hold my bowels in for longer than a few seconds. I was miserable, had lost a lot of weight, and also a lot of “friends”. This was also all happening during the COVID pandemic so I wasn’t able to see my doctors in person.

The final year before I got surgery I had lost 40-50 pounds, had been to the emergency department  countless times, as well as hospitalized 3-4 times. I ended up being super anemic and needed iron infusions as well as one blood infusion. That last year was the final straw. The summer of 2021 I ended up losing my bowels on myself 40+ times on my 20-minute drive home from work. I told my boss I couldn’t work anymore and that’s when I first heard about ostomies and started researching. I didn’t know what an ostomy bag was before then but after joining a subreddit on Reddit called r/Ostomy I started to see that an ostomy was the answer to my problem.

I went to my GI and told him that I’m done trying medicine, I’m done not being able to go out and experience life, I’m done with prednisone (which was wrecking my body), and  I’m done being physically, mentally, and spiritually drained. I was completely broken. He said that all he could do was refer me to a surgeon. I arrived at the surgeon’s office begging him for surgery and he said “I’ve never had a patient come into my office practically begging me for surgery, so yes we can do it.”

Getting an ostomy completely changed my life but I didn’t let it completely change me.

Two months later I was walking in for a total colectomy and a placement of a stoma. I was afraid but I knew I couldn’t keep living the way I was. So February 21 of 2022 I got Stoma Steve. It only took a few weeks to know that I made the right decision. I felt better immediately. Luckily, I had a lot of help between my spirituality, my support network, my family, the subreddit r/Ostomy, and the surgeon’s office. I couldn’t have done it alone.

I didn’t want to mention this because I didn’t want it to be a focal point of my story, but at the time of my surgery I had over 5+ years clean from ALL mood or mind-altering chemicals so I didn’t go home from the hospital with any medicine besides Tylenol. Honestly, the recovery wasn’t bad but only a short few months after I developed a prolapse of my stoma. It was a big one but it wasn’t affecting my daily life (besides the anxiety it caused me) so they opted to wait to fix it until I decided whether or not I wanted to keep the stoma forever or get a reversal.

I want to be able to share with people that just because I have something like an ostomy doesn’t mean I can’t do the things I love. Being a bright light in a horrible disease is a blessing for me.

I researched reversals and with the help of family decided that I was going to keep the ostomy bag. So on January 10th of 2023 I got my rectum and anus removed and they fixed my stoma prolapse. Again, the recovery wasn’t bad but this time the hospital stay was horrible. I ended up getting straight cathed three times, I had an NG tube placed because Stoma Steve wasn’t pushing food out and my drain was bothering me for the month I had it. Again, I can’t thank the subreddit r/Ostomy enough because they were who I vented to and talked to for help and coping strategies because no one in my life except them knew what I was going through.

My Ostomy bag and stoma has saved my life. This year has been one of the best years of my life. I explored nature, started exercising, running/walking 5ks, fishing more, cycling, and many other things. I’m a Patient Care Technician in the Behavioral Health Unit in my local hospital. I love being able to help people on a daily basis. Being able to fulfill my purpose; which is helping other people, brings me joy daily. That is why I want to share my story.

I did no know about UOAA until I became interested in wanting to share my story and researched how to get involved with advocacy and sharing about ostomies. I would love to do the Run for Resilience Ostomy 5K on World Ostomy Day this year and get more involved with the UOAA community.

Getting an ostomy completely changed my life but I didn’t let it completely change me. A lot of people don’t understand why I’m so positive and happy most of the time. It is because I have been through a lot in my short 30 years of life and I don’t want to let the bad things outweigh the good things. I want to be able to share with people that just because I have something like an ostomy doesn’t mean I can’t do the things I love. Being a bright light in a horrible disease is a blessing for me.

Thank you for reading!!

Since short bowel syndrome is not something most people talk about every day, I am excited that we have a month to bring awareness to it. As someone living with short bowel syndrome (SBS) and an ostomy, I have learned to be grateful for the technologies and doctors who have helped keep me alive through my surgeries and infections. And I am proud of myself for developing the self-reliance to find ways to make my life easier.

To learn more about SBS, visit https://sbs-whattoknow.com/. To join the community and talk with others who are living with SBS, check out https://www.facebook.com/TakedaSBS/.

People with ostomies come from all stages of life, and we all have different stories to tell. But we also share some common experiences—and we can learn from each other. I have an ostomy because of SBS, a rare digestive disorder that many people may not know much about. If you asked me about my memories of my SBS diagnosis, I couldn’t answer that because I don’t remember it. My SBS diagnosis happened right after I was born. Fortunately, my doctors quickly ran tests and diagnosed me with Hirschsprung’s disease, a condition at birth where certain nerves are missing from parts of the intestine. I immediately had surgery to remove my colon and half of my small intestine, which led to my SBS diagnosis and having an ostomy.

My parents, who were graduate students at the time, were as ready as they could be to bring home a baby, but I think they had prepared for the predictable, everyday challenges of having a “normal” baby, not for me. After my surgery, I spent about one month in the NICU, where the nurses instructed my parents on how to care for me.

When my parents brought me home, they raised me to never feel different and didn’t see my condition as something to hold me back; they wanted me to be independent, which I am! My health condition has been just a part of who I am. I grew up getting hooked up to IV nutrition, a form of parenteral support or PS, every night. It was such a part of my routine that I didn’t know any different. SBS was just part of my life.

From a very early age, I learned how to take care of myself because that’s what parents teach their children. If I hadn’t had SBS, they would have potty-trained me. Instead, they taught me how to drain my ostomy. Their attitude was, This is going to be difficult, but she has to do this. So, we would work on the steps together. Just like other kids learning to make it to the toilet, I learned how to change my ostomy so that I would be ready for school.

Starting preschool was an adventure. How many schools are equipped to care for a kid with an ostomy? Wildly enough, the director of the preschool was an older woman who had friends with ostomies, so she was familiar with my needs! It’s a great example that, despite age differences, we can connect through our ostomy knowledge and help each other out. Eventually, the preschool teachers and director trained the staff at my elementary school when it was time for me to start my education.

As I was growing up, all my friends knew that I had a health condition. I also think I was lucky in that, while I was technically very sick in the beginning, the doctors were able to address it early on. That meant that even though I had a rare digestive disorder, I was actually not a very sick child. Plus, I just didn’t have that concept of shame. For show-and-tell, I’d pull up my shirt to show everyone my line for my parenteral nutrition. And they’d all be like, “Cool! There’s some weird plastic thing hanging out! Moving on…” No one cared.

Then, when I was in middle school, we moved from California to the East Coast. For the first time ever, I had to share my condition with others—in a student population hundreds of times larger than the tiny magnet school I’d left behind. Plus, my health condition started flaring up for the first time. I missed the first day of school due to my first-ever line infection. At that point, I hadn’t really processed what my medical condition meant for my life.

So, I was dealing with complex new health issues while trying to pretend I was “normal.” I got through middle and high school through sheer determination. While I enjoyed my time at school, I often felt like an outsider—like I couldn’t tell people about my true self. I shrank into myself and let fear cause me to lose who I really was. I realized, for example, that the type of shirt “everyone was wearing” would show my line. If I wore the “in” jeans, which were low-waisted, my ostomy bag popped out. I was already not like everybody else just by my clothes alone. Add in missing a lot of school due to hospitalizations and infections, and people would recognize me as “the girl that’s gone all the time.” I let go of hobbies, friends, talents, and dreams just to blend in.

These days, more than two decades after my SBS diagnosis, I don’t worry about blending in so much. Instead, I am clear about my needs, and I’ve figured out what works for me. It doesn’t matter if my jeans are on trend—feeling good and confident in my own skin and my own life matters most. From my clothing choices to creating an ostomy station in my bathroom that’s both functional and cozy, I have learned to set up the things I need to feel comfortable and happy. This also means that when something is stressful or hard, like if the bag breaks in the middle of the night, I already have a bag ready on my nightstand so that I can deal with the issue. I try to think through what might happen when I am clear-eyed and calm so that when difficulties arise (which, in my experience, they have), I can focus on fixing the problem.

I’ve been managing my ostomy on my own since high school, and even when I’m in the hospital or being visited by nurses at home, I take charge of changing my bag. Sometimes the nurses are curious to see how a patient does it independently. I think that as they watch me, they pick up tips and strategies to show their patients different—but still medically acceptable—ways of managing their bags at home. We (or our caregivers) learn the correct procedures in the hospital, and we all find ways to adapt to SBS.

Thankfully, hospitals and homes are two separate things. So when I bring my SBS home with me, I try to be a good host and make it cozy and comfortable.

In recognition of Short Bowel Syndrome Awareness Month, I would like to encourage my fellow SBS patients and their caregivers to stand up and become their own best advocates. As I said, people with ostomies come from all stages of life, and while every patient is unique, we are all in this together.

This article was created by Takeda.

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.

Every Individual is Unique so Don’t Put Restrictions on Yourself Based on Others

By Lisa Febre

The morning after my colectomy, the first question I had for my surgeon was “can I still do yoga?” My surgeon had a good-natured and amused response: “Please give yourself two weeks to recover from this surgery, and then you can do all the yoga you want.” He also told me that with my specific colostomy, in two weeks I could get back to my regular diet with no restrictions. (I’ve since learned those with an ileostomy have different considerations.)

Sure enough, two weeks later, once I was sufficiently recovered, I was living out his predictions. I was back on the yoga mat, twisting myself into pretzels, lifting into tricky arm balances, and standing on my head. I was outdoors hiking and running. For the first week after surgery, I was following a soft-solids diet, and by the second week I was eating whatever I wanted. By the end of the month, I was even eating Reuben sandwiches with sauerkraut!

I knew no boundaries because I had none.

It wasn’t until I joined a support group on social media that I noticed people were questioning things I was taking for granted like taking a shower, exercising, wearing pants, and eating vegetables. Are there eating restrictions for ostomates? Was it possible some people were told they could not exercise with their ostomy? The answer is …yes… ish.

Showering with an Ostomy

I was given a temporary colostomy in December 2021 when I was diagnosed with Stage-4c Colon Cancer (at the age of 47). There is no way around it: this is a big shock to the body and the mind. But the only thing I could think about was getting into the shower and washing off the five days’ worth of sweat and grime that had accumulated on my body during my hospital stay. I stripped down, my new Hollister 2-piece system hanging off of me and stepped into the shower. I didn’t think about the bag at all, I just showered like I normally did. When I was done, I dried myself and the bag off with a towel, and… that was it. I did this every single day without a second thought.

I would laugh at myself and say: it’s just poop, it’s not nuclear waste!

Weeks later, I was surprised to learn people commenting online were wrapping up their colostomy bags with layers of plastic wrap and were trying desperately to keep their abdomens out of the water. Wait… are we not supposed to get the bags wet? That didn’t sound right to me. The barrier has to be taken off with adhesive removal wipes or sprays, and even then, it can be difficult to separate it from your skin. The durable plastic receptacle bag is meant to hold all kinds of bodily fluids, it seems obvious that it should be able to handle a little soap and water. The customer service reps at both Hollister and Coloplast concurred: they specifically told me that their products are meant to be used while showering, bathing, and even swimming, with no extra accessories. Again, because no one told me I couldn’t, I was already doing these things. It was heartbreaking to see so many of my fellow ostomates avoiding basic hygiene for fear of doing it with the bag on.

It seems like the solution might be to shower without the appliance. There tends to be even more fear surrounding this practice of naked showers. Again, this was something that I had already done without asking for permission. One day I was changing my appliance, decided it would be a great time to shower, and just jumped in. The soap on my newly exposed skin felt fantastic, my stoma looked to be enjoying the water running down my belly. Naked showers were soothing and necessary for my peace of mind. I always felt the cleanest when I showered without my appliance. The skin under the barrier stayed healthy and the adhesives worked much better. Always close at hand was a disposable plastic cup filled 1/4 up with water which I used to catch any “visitors” that might erupt from my exposed stoma during my shower. I would laugh at myself and say: it’s just poop, it’s not nuclear waste!

Exercising with an Ostomy

This is something you absolutely must talk to your doctor about. I can’t give you proper advice since everyone has a different risk value for a parastomal hernia (that’s when your intestines try to push their way through the incision around the stoma). Although 50% of people with a stoma will get a parastomal hernia, that doesn’t mean you are going to get one. Your surgeon will assess your risk. I had almost no risk of one of these hernias because I was fit and active before the surgery; there was a low likelihood that my incision site would fail while I had the stoma. I was told I could begin exercising again 2 weeks post-op. Alternately, when I had my reversal surgery 10 months later, my surgeon said there is a slightly higher risk of a hernia at the closure site and wanted me to wait 8 weeks before lifting anything over 10 pounds, and that included doing yoga.

Even within one person, my risks were different for each surgery. This is why you have to have a clear assessment from your doctor and follow their directions. Some people may still develop a hernia despite following their surgeon’s directions. It’s important to question and clarify, but ultimately listen to your doctor– and not just people online, this gives you the best chance for success.

Dressing with an Ostomy

This is a tricky one for ostomates because everyone’s stoma is in a slightly different spot. I was able to wear jeans and form-fitting clothing because the location of my stoma made that possible. Someone else may have their stoma exactly where the rigid waistband of their favorite jeans falls, which can be an issue. Your clothing isn’t necessarily going to hurt the stoma, but you do need to save room for when your stoma has output. For some, tight-fitting clothing can restrict the bag, forcing the output backward toward your skin and under the barrier.

Dressing is definitely not a one-size-fits-all situation, so unfortunately no one can really give someone else game-changing advice. Be ready to experiment, but always wear clothing that makes you feel good. It was important to me to wear jeans, so I bought new jeans with a lower waistband that fell just under my stoma. Many other women invest in maternity pants. But I never left the house feeling frumpy. My colostomy was not in charge of my fashion sense, I was!

Eating with an Ostomy

Everyone has a unique reason for having an ostomy. In my case, I had my colostomy because of cancer; I had no pre-existing intestinal issues or dietary restrictions. If you are like me and could eat whatever you wanted before, chances are high that your doctor will tell you you can go back to that way of eating after your surgery. But some people, who come to a colostomy or ileostomy through ulcerative colitis or Crohn’s disease (or other gastrointestinal disease), may already have restrictions that they still need to take into consideration. An ostomy does not always magically erase your special diet for your IBD.

The general rule is however you ate before your colostomy is how you can eat now.

It does not rule you; it is not the most important thing about you, and it does not define your life.

I am vegan and I had no trouble eating any vegetables with my colostomy. UOAA’s trusted Eating with an Ostomy Guide provides info including a standard chart of foods to avoid at first with an ileostomy or colostomy – whether that is because they create stinky output, excess gas, diarrhea, constipation, or could cause blockages. Speak with your doctor and surgeon if you are unsure how to handle building your new diet. If you’re introducing new vegetables (or any kind of food) into your post-colostomy diet, just try a little bit and see what happens! If your doctor says it’s ok, don’t be afraid to try eating the old things you love, and maybe be inspired to try some new things as well. A good practice for all is to chew thoroughly and stay hydrated.

Stay Positive with an Ostomy

Some people wonder how they can ever find something positive in something so scary as an ostomy, but it can be done. You don’t need to do it in big grand gestures or sweeping alterations in your character. Just try one little switch when the opportunity comes up. It isn’t about skipping down the street singing the praises of your ostomy, it’s about finding moments when you can see the silver lining. I thought it was sort of fun to have something so unique on my body. Very few people ever get to have this close a relationship with their intestines, so instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to call myself “lucky” for learning so much about how my digestive tract works.

Maybe most important of all, my ostomy led me to a UOAA support group where I met some wonderful people. I have made new friends who I would never have met without my ostomy. That is something to be very thankful for.

Spend some time every day when you force yourself to not think about your ostomy. Even if it’s just 20 seconds, it is important to learn to push this thing into the background of your life. It does not rule you; it is not the most important thing about you, and it does not define your life. Stay Positive! One day, one hour, sometimes one minute at a time, but you can do this.

Learn to Take Care of Your Ostomy

Our emotional recovery depends on regaining independence. I was only 47 when I received my ostomy. I am too young to rely on others to take care of me. I laughed when the home health aide arrived and started treating me like I was 80. I was not going to lie down and become helpless. I was going to be an active participant in my own health and recovery.

Learning how to care for yourself makes you feel like a Superhero!

If you suddenly find yourself having to depend on someone else to maintain your appliance, you will feel even more out of control and worried that something might go wrong. Believe me: something will go wrong — leaks happen to the best of us, and at the most unexpected times. If you have to wait until your nurse can come to your house, or until your partner gets home from work, you will feel more helpless with each passing day. Paranoid that something terrible will happen if you get a leak while you’re alone, you may not leave the house to run errands, you may say no to social gatherings, and you may not want to go back to work.

Learning how to care for yourself makes you feel like a Superhero! I had a cool little zipper bag that fit in my purse containing a precut barrier, 2 extra bags, 2-3 adhesive remover wipes, 2-3 skin prep wipes, a disposal bag, and a travel-size PooPourri Spray. Knowing I had all the supplies I needed to do a quick bag change in a strange bathroom gave me immense peace of mind. I could change the whole system in less than 5 minutes, all by myself!

And if you need a little smile while you fumble around with your first bag change alone, just repeat my favorite mantra out loud: I got this whole thing in the bag!

 

Lisa Febre is the author of “Round the Twist: Facing the Abdominable,” a memoir about her diagnosis and treatment of Stage-4c Colon Cancer, which hits bookshelves in September 2023. She had a descending colostomy for 10-months.

By Ed Pfueller, UOAA Communications Manager

Taylor Mitchell and Michael Ross

It was raining every day, for weeks, before Taylor and Michael were set to get married. But as the recently wed couple stepped out of the church for photos, only the sun was shining, a distant mountain range framed their joy – the chilly Alaskan rain held off.

“It was an absolutely magical day,” says Taylor, the bride. “Taylor took my breath away when I saw her, she was absolutely stunning,” Michael recalls.

Even if the dark clouds had drenched their special day, it’s doubtful it would have dampened their mood. This specific couple is used to living with ostomies and chronic illness and they seem prepared to weather any storm.

Friends from the Start

Taylor and Michael first met ten years ago in a local college undergrad class. “I scanned the room, saw him, thought he was cute, and decided I wanted to sit by him and try to be friends. I didn’t know if anything would come of our friendship. We had a great connection as friends, Taylor recalls.

“She was smart, insightful, and easy on the eyes, but I would never have imagined she was interested in me beyond friendship,” Michael says.

The friendship slowly turned into dating. “We have a lot in common and also have a lot of differences. I love to plan, and she is more spontaneous. We both respect each other and can be vulnerable with each other, and the biggest thing is we trust each other,” Michael says.

Taylor says some things she loves about Michael is that he understands her and that they have a shared faith. “He always wants to help me any way he can, and he’s generous to others,” she says.

What is an Ostomy?

“While we were dating, I didn’t know Michael had an ostomy for a while and when he did tell me, I had no idea what it was,” Taylor says. “His ostomy was never an issue for me and so my experience while dating was positive! His ostomy never impacted anything in our relationship from my perspective.”

Michael has had a long ostomy journey and awareness, his mother had a urostomy. ”I had a colostomy for about two years, takedown for four, and have had a permanent ileostomy for the past fifteen years due to complications with Crohn’s disease,” he says.

“I didn’t date much before I met Taylor but had no negative experiences when I did date. Taylor was very understanding when I told her (and showed her) about my ostomy. She was very understanding and seemed eager to learn more.”

“My advice would be, if you’re a person who doesn’t have an ostomy and finds yourself dating someone with an ostomy, educate yourself and do your best to understand your partner, their limitations (if any), and then just treat them as a regular person!” Taylor says.

Taylor also advises that if you have an ostomy and find yourself with someone who doesn’t have an ostomy. “Give the partner an opportunity to accept you and make the choice for themselves on what they’re comfortable with. You’re not for everyone and that’s ok and vice versa! I think it will always be slightly nerve-wracking to have a body that isn’t “normal” by current beauty standards because of the fear of rejection and embarrassment, Taylor says. “Society tends to tell us that no one will want us if there’s something “wrong” with us. But, if you can muster the courage to put yourself out there, the outcome may be better than you ever imagined!”

I don’t think we will have any more challenges than the average couple… we just poop differently. -Michael Ross

In Sickness and in Health

Caregiving has been a consistent part of Taylor and Michael’s relationship. “When Michael had to have revision surgery, I wanted to make sure he’d have easily accessible food so he could focus on healing. I came over to his house prior to surgery and we made a few different meals to freeze. It was a great feeling for me that we got to spend time together cooking and his food would be taken care of while he recovered. He was used to taking care of himself so it meant a lot to me to do this for him.”

Meanwhile, Taylor started dealing with her own undiagnosed chronic illness. “I had to go to the Mayo Clinic while we were dating, and he took time off of work to come with me for a week. He came to all my appointments and helped me navigate all my emotions with what I was dealing with. This is the kind of thing we do for each other, we try to make the hard times easier by taking care of the small things and the big things,” she says.

Just a year and a half ago Taylor, with her health worsening Taylor had ostomy surgery as a result of chronic constipation. For better or worse they were now an ostomate couple.

A Couple of Ostomates

After her ostomy surgery, Taylor says she, “shared with him every single aspect of what I was going through. It was nice to be with someone who already knew! It felt good from my perspective to understand him better, now that we had the same appliance… I actually knew first-hand what he was dealing with.”

Michael says that one of the best parts of being with another ostomate is knowing that someone really understands what you are going through. “It’s nice to be able to compare notes on new products and understand when my partner isn’t feeling well, to have the option to share supplies, tag along to doctor’s appointments, and ask questions about care, procedures, and recovery,” he says.

In addition to a new mutual understanding of health issues, Taylor says, “We know what to do if one of us isn’t feeling well. We just understand each other on a deeper level. He accepts me as an individual and he accepts my body even as it changes with all my health challenges.”

It felt good from my perspective to understand him better, now that we had the same appliance… I actually knew first-hand what he was dealing with. -Taylor Mitchell

As for difficulties, they both dread a possible double leak at night, and can imagine the challenge of not feeling well at the same time or needing a procedure around the same time. Taylor says the most challenging part has been encouraging the other to stick to the foods that work for us, to drink water more consistently, and get our electrolytes in.” Michael concludes, “I don’t think we will have any more challenges than the average couple… we just poop differently.”

Finding Community and Support

Even with partner support, Taylor says “UOAA has been so incredibly important to me in my ostomy journey. When I first got my ostomy, I scoured the UOAA website and read every piece of information I could find which helped ease my mind and answer my questions. UOAA’s website also helped me to be able to share information about my ostomy with family and friends.”

The couple, who both work in logistics, has recently moved to Colorado but while in Alaska both say they had the good fortune of having Luella Odmark as their WOC nurse.

“Luella is an amazing individual who cares so deeply about ostomates,” Taylor says. She does a training for nurses at one of our hospitals and has invited my husband and I to speak to the class about our ostomy history, give advice on what we wish we had from nurses, doctors, and hospital staff as well as sharing some of our favorite products,” she adds.

“I enjoyed observing the transformation of two people pursuing their own interests, coming together, including getting married, now mentoring others about ostomies,” says  Odmark, a WOC Nurse and the leader of the Anchorage Ostomy Support Group. “I hope to see them continue to spread hope about living with an ostomy,” Odmark adds.

Odmark also joins the couple each Ostomy Awareness Day to walk the Run for Resilience Ostomy 5k. The experience was especially meaningful to Taylor. “The Ostomy 5k was a huge accomplishment the first time I did it because I was three months post op and it was a huge struggle for me to walk a 5k, I almost didn’t finish it and wanted to give up so many times. Taylor continues, “My second time, this year, it was still a hard thing for me to accomplish but I did so much better! I loved seeing people from all over doing their 5k however was comfortable for them. It was encouraging!”

 

UOAA has been so incredibly important to me in my ostomy journey. -Taylor Mitchell

Taylor is especially open about her ostomy journey and embraces Ostomy Awareness Day as a chance to connect with more people online and see their stories. “It’s such a nice feeling to know that I am not alone. I see people who are confident with their ostomy and I see people who are working to build their confidence,” Taylor says.

Taylor hopes to help even more people and nurses through UOAA outreach opportunities. “I love UOAA’s mission, I love the work they do, and I love all the resources that are available for FREE so financial barriers are removed for as many people as possible. Accessibility is so important! I am proud to be a supporter of UOAA.”

Michael agrees and adds, “I’m very thankful for all of the people that organize the walk, work with ostomates, and are around to help us on our ostomy journey. I’m most thankful for my wife, who I get to take this journey with every day.”

 

Words and Photos by Jessica Miles

Living with a permanent ostomy can bring on significant changes in one’s personal, social and professional life. My biggest fear around having my ostomy surgery was leakage, particularly in public, skin breakdown and altered body image. There was a lot of trial and error in the beginning, but I have found what works for me as well as the confidence to share about it. I have always been an empath and very compassionate, however, I have now found a new passion for helping others (through my surgeon and on social media) learn how to manage their ostomy as well as how to cope with their new life. If you are willing and able to adapt, you can do anything!

In 2016, after years of unexplained symptoms, countless procedures, hospitalizations, tests, and a couple of misdiagnoses, it was confirmed that I had a genetic connective tissue disorder caused by a defect in the protein collagen. I was diagnosed with Classical type Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. More than 90% of people with Classical EDS have mutations in the COL5A1 or COL5A2 gene. I have a mutation of the COL5A2 gene. The condition is inherited in an autosomal dominant manner. Treatment and management is focused on preventing serious complications and relieving symptoms.

Classical EDS is associated with skin hyperextensibility, joint laxity, fragile blood vessels, joint hypermobility, migraines, joint and muscle pain. Some individuals with this subtype have a deformity of heart valves and may experience a dilatation of the aorta. In cEDS there is also an increased risk for aortic dissection. cEDS patients are prone to hernias and organ prolapse, as well as comorbidities such as autonomic dysfunction…which regulates heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, pupillary response and digestion.

I ended up having multiple surgeries over the past four and a half years due to intestinal dysmotility, prolapses and hernias, resulting in a port and a permanent ostomy. I now, have an ascending end colostomy. While I prepared for years for the possibility of having one, I realized nothing truly prepares you for the actuality of living with a bag on your belly for the rest of your life. Though little by little, the stigma took a back seat to the reality that life with an ostomy can be just as good, if not better for some, than life without one. I suffered constantly from abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, bloating, constipation, bowel obstructions and malabsorption. While I still struggle with many debilitating symptoms of my disorder, I am now able to eat, gain weight and go to the bathroom regularly. Something I always took for granted until I was no longer able to do so.

My symptoms aren’t usually visible to the untrained eye, but they are life-altering for me.

Though I have a constant physical reminder of my condition in the ostomy, to the rest of the world, mine is a largely invisible illness.

It’s hard to describe how I feel to someone who has no idea what daily life with a chronic illness is like. I feel awful on the inside but look perfectly fine on the outside. Putting on a brave face for all to see has become a habit. My symptoms aren’t usually visible to the untrained eye, but they are life-altering for me.

I’ve learned to take everything step by step and day by day. My goal is to break down the stigma of ostomies, and while it’s not always easy, to show that one can still thrive and live a happy life with chronic illness. Due to pain and fatigue, I’ve learned to budget my energy, and while I may function normally one day, I usually need to rest the next. It’s all about finding balance. I am blessed to have an amazing support system in my husband and two boys, the rest of my family and friends.

For me, photography has been a powerful way to document my health journey and what I experience every day. It helps me see my progress, as well as setbacks in a cathartic way.

I am a registered nurse nationally certified in inpatient obstetrics. Unfortunately due to my illness, continuous surgeries and hospitalizations, I made the most difficult decision of my life and gave up the profession I worked so hard for and one that was a huge part of my identity. I am also an award-winning, internationally published photographer, focusing primarily on birth photography and self-portraiture. I found a new purpose, capturing laboring women and their deliveries combined both of my passions: childbirth and photography.

As a photographer, I believe that art enhances the well-being of individuals, society, and our environment and that artists have the power to heal, inspire, provoke, challenge, and offer hope. For me, photography has been a powerful way to document my health journey and what I experience every day. It helps me see my progress, as well as setbacks in a cathartic way. Photography allows people to see different perspectives and can be used as a tool for personal healing and positive change for many while nurturing creativity and self-expression.

My favorite quote is by the artist, Frida Kahlo. “At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.” I have definitely found this to be true and learned I am much more resilient than I ever thought I was. My illness has caused me to know myself better, which keeps my work honest and true. In the process, you truly meet yourself, which makes for better, more authentic work.

My journey to a Short Bowel Syndrome (SBS) diagnosis followed years of motility issues, intestinal complications and numerous surgeries, including a jejunostomy, which is an ostomy that creates an opening in the part of the small intestine called the jejunum. As a trained architect, I believe there’s no problem too big to solve, and applying that mindset has helped me to navigate the challenges of SBS and life with an ostomy. This is my story.

When I was diagnosed with a motility disorder at the age of 15, I never thought that it would have such an effect in my life. I was able to function with physical activity and limited diet until I had my colon removed in 2015 due to colonic volvulus. In my case, this meant that my colon twisted around itself, causing tissue death from lack of blood flow. The procedure worsened my underlying motility disorder of the small intestine. As a result of my underlying condition of chronic intestinal pseudo obstruction (CIPO), my intestines wouldn’t function. I lost the ability to absorb nutrients through my small intestine. I was in desperate need of answers.

Ultimately, I was evaluated for an intestinal transplant. At the time, my small intestine was severely compromised due to small intestinal bacterial overgrowth. In order to improve my odds of surviving the transplant, I underwent surgery to remove the majority of my small intestine in 2018, leaving me with only four inches of small intestine that didn’t function properly. The surgery, and the resulting serious and chronic malabsorption disorder that accompanied it, resulted in my diagnosis of short bowel syndrome, SBS.

To learn more about SBS, visit https://sbs-whattoknow.com/. To join the community and talk with others who are living with SBS, check out https://www.facebook.com/TakedaSBS/.

 

While not everyone will experience an SBS diagnosis the same way, for me, the removal of my colon and most of my small intestine eliminated the ongoing pain and discomfort I experienced when I was living with a motility disorder and chronic intestinal pseudo-obstruction syndrome. Just prior to the surgery to remove my small intestine, I weighed 87 pounds and couldn’t walk half a mile without becoming exhausted. I now weigh 122 pounds and was able to walk nine miles the other day. Keep in mind that this is just my experience and everyone’s journey will be different. In consultation with my medical team, I have decided to put my intestinal transplant on hold.

In my case, living with SBS also means that if I don’t eat the right things, it can affect my electrolytes and fluid balance. Without my colon, I don’t absorb fluids. So, I have found that if I drink water, I can actually lose fluids. A key part of managing my condition has been learning to listen to my own body and trying to understand what’s happening inside. For example, I have learned to recognize the signs of dehydration and have made it a priority to understand my lab values. As I have gained a better understanding of my condition, I also think it’s been important for me to find the right providers for what I’m going through at each stage of the process.

 

Navigating how to live with a jejunostomy was a challenging aspect in my SBS management, especially when I experienced leaking. I remember once going to a rare bookstore and my ostomy bag opened. In those moments, with liquid pouring down my legs, I had never felt more embarrassed. However, my grandma taught me that you have a choice in uncomfortable situations – you can either cry or laugh. I try to choose the latter. Not everyone will experience leaks with an ostomy, but if it happens to you, I’d encourage you to give yourself grace. Adapting to life with an ostomy can be a gradual process. For example, when I first had my jejunostomy, it took me an hour to change my bag and now it only takes me 15 minutes.

Despite the challenges, I never gave up on looking for answers and solutions. My training as an architect has led me to believe there is nothing that can’t be solved. After consulting with multiple ostomy teams and connecting with people who share similar experiences, I started to embrace the changes that came with my SBS diagnosis and jejunostomy.

I have been lucky enough to receive tremendous support throughout my SBS journey. My family is my biggest source of support. My husband has been there for me despite knowing about my chronic condition. My dad is the one who figured out how to empty the additional drainage bag overnight by flipping it upside down. My mother and grandma have created customized recipes to help with my oral food intake. But, for me, it’s been a continual process to educate the people around me about my condition. I have learned to be patient and vocal about my specific needs.

For anyone living with a rare and chronic illness, I encourage you to reach out and seek community support. A few members of the SBS community have inspired me and helped me to better understand my condition and encouraged me to break down barriers in my own SBS journey by sharing their own experiences. I’m grateful for the opportunity to connect with others going through similar experiences.

When I was first diagnosed with SBS, I did not think it would be possible to continue doing the things I love. Along the way, the architect in me has looked for opportunities to “design my future” with SBS by embracing challenges, educating myself and the people around me, and connecting with others in the community. I am proud of the progress I’ve made – I have a job that I love and I live in a city that I love. SBS is only a small piece of who I am, and it does not define who I am. I hope you can embrace YOUR journey with SBS, too.

This article was created by Takeda.

 

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.

Finding Humor in life with an ostomy and IBD

My name is LTC(R) Justin F. Blum and I had my initial ostomy surgery 29 years ago and my rectum removed six years later.  These surgeries were done because of an ulcerative colitis diagnosis that lead to colon cancer.

During the 1980s, I had many colonoscopies and a litany of medications, the Army assigned me to duty stations in Kentucky, South Carolina, Birmingham AL, and Fort Monroe VA. I started with 20mg of Prednisone per day and that went up to 240mg in the fall of 1992.  During that following winter, I made an appointment with an Army gastroenterologist at Eisenhower Army Hospital, Fort Gordon GA.  After the exam, he told me I needed to have ostomy surgery. I knew what an ostomy was, I raised

Still a tanker at heart!

my voice and said, “The only way I will have ostomy surgery is if my back is to the wall and I have one foot already in the grave”. Little did I know in one year I would be having that surgery. I was bleeding profusely while taking 240mg of Prednisone per day. My last colonoscopy showed that I had a large black spot on the transverse part of my colon.

My doctor immediately scheduled me for ostomy surgery at the end of February 1993. I was in the hospital for two weeks and proceeded to convalesce at home for 30 days. Three weeks into the leave, my wife and I tried having sex for the first time as an ostomate. My bag ended up going where no bag has ever gone before and probably had a better time than we did. After some maneuvering, life did get better! I reported back to duty in Birmingham AL after convalescent leave was over. I was eventually given a J Pouch which I had for four years.

My years with IBD and now an ostomy showed me that it takes a village to obtain a good quality of life.

The next few years living with my J-pouch were horrible. Despite taking 15 hospital strength Imodium per day, I was still defecating 20 times per day. I continuously was sore on my bottom. I would develop leaks and I ended up having to wear pantyliners in my underwear. When I retired from active duty in August 1996, I immediately started my second career as an Army JROTC Instructor in Bennettsville SC. I continued to go to the bathroom quite frequently and in the spring of the following year my daughter, who was six at the time, wanted me to play horsey with her and take her around the block. I bent down half in tears and told her that “daddy can’t play horsey because he is too sore on his bottom”. I immediately went to talk to my wife and we both agreed it was time to get back to having an ostomy bag. That summer at the Columbia SC Veterans Administration hospital, I had my third surgery to restore my ostomy due to my poor quality of life with the J Pouch. On the positive side, since I’ve had an external pouch, the veteran’s administration awarded me 100% total and permanent disability. I spent the next 23 years as an Army JROTC Instructor.

By the Fall of 1997, I was ready for my first formal engagement with my ostomy. The NAACP was conducting its annual scholarship banquet and I was one of the evening’s speakers.  I made a very big mistake on the Saturday morning of the event by eating two packets of oatmeal for breakfast. I then went to a local bowling alley with my 6-year-old daughter for a birthday party. At the party, I ate too much popcorn!   That evening my wife and children attended the dinner and I was dressed in my brand-new army dress mess uniform. I was sitting on the stage at the head table when it was my time to give remarks. Once I was finished with my remarks I looked down and I thought I had spilled some water on my lap. After a closer look, I realized that that was not water but wet feces seeping through my lap. I immediately got up and my wife and I proceeded to the nearest restroom. In the men’s room, my wife was straddling me with her body trying to clean off the feces from my pouch with one hand and trying to put on a new ostomy bag with the other. During this time three individuals came into the restroom and became startled because they thought we were having sex on the floor!

From 1997 to 2002 I would experience a lot of burning, stinging, and itching around my stoma. Unfortunately, I did not have access to an ostomy nurse at any of the two hospitals where I lived in Florence SC. To my good fortune, a new assistant WOC nurse was assigned to Carolinas Hospital. I called the nurse the next day and told her about the problems I was experiencing on my skin. She immediately asked if I could come in the next day for her to examine my broken skin. That next day she examined my skin and applied Nystatin Powder to the inflamed areas. Within two days the burning, stinging, soreness, and red skin started to heal very quickly.

Despite the ostomy pouch I worked very hard my first few years and to my happiness in 2003, was named the Army Junior ROTC instructor of the year for the entire worldwide JROTC system that consists of over 5000 instructors. In August of 2010 I received a letter from Cindy Norris, Carolina’s Hospital WOC nurse who enclosed an application for the ConvaTec sponsored Great Comebacks program. The Great Comebacks program identified ostomates that also accomplished acts in their lives of giving back to others. I mailed the application back for processing. The application highlighted my time with IBD and then in 1993 acquiring my ostomy while the whole time serving my country as an officer in the United States Army. In addition, in November 2009 I was promoted to the rank of full Colonel in the South Carolina State Guard. I received a phone call from former NFL Placekicker Rolf Benirschke with the great comebacks program. He told me I would be the recipient of the Tony Snow Award for Public Service. The Tony Snow Award was annually given to an individual who has an ostomy and performed years of public service to our nation.

In 2010 and 2011 I was honored to be recognized with several awards.  I was named the 2010 volunteer of the year for South Carolina, the Tony Snow award winner, and in the summer of 2011, I was named for the second time the Army JROTC instructor of the Year. South Carolina Representative the Honorable Jim Clyburn recognized me on the floor of the House of Representatives in the summer of 2011 for these mentioned achievements while having an ostomy.

Eight years later I retired after 23 years as a JROTC instructor for a total of 44 years in uniform. My first act as a retiree was to apply to become a member of the United Ostomy Associations of America’s Board of Directors. To my good fortune, I became a board member and will have served a total of four years upon the conclusion of this tour of duty.

Justin at UOAA’s National Conference in Jacksonville , FL in August 2013. He now serves as a member of UOAA’s Board of Directors.

Over the four years, I was diagnosed and experienced neuropathy in conjunction with my ostomy. I was first put on a regimen of three 800mg tablets of Gabapentin per day which lasted six months. Not feeling any relief from the pain my doctor said we should try acupuncture. Apparently, the ears are where the acupuncture needles went because it was a central place for the pain sensors around my stoma.  I was on acupuncture for about 3 months and unfortunately, I did not see any relief. My doctor prescribed Lyrica, which is a derivative of Gabapentin. I started with one tablet per day now I am up to three tablets after two months. My pain levels have gone down considerably and fortunately I have been able to start exercising again in moderation.

My years with IBD and now an ostomy showed me that it takes a village to obtain a good quality of life. My wife Leah, who I refer to as my “Chief of Staff” is the most important person in my village. She stood by my side during four surgeries and all the years of total discomfort. In addition, if not for my caring and loving wife, I never would have gotten through the transition from non-ostomate to being an ostomate. She is my go-to person for any of my problems and she is both sympathetic and empathetic to those problems. She also stood by my side during countless tours of duty with the Army bringing her continually farther away from her home in New Jersey. Ten years prior to my initial surgery, in 1993, my father died at the age of 61 from colon cancer that spread to his liver. My ostomy surgery gave me a second chance to live because I was a prime example that ostomies save lives! If I did not have my proctocolectomy, my young wife would have become a widow with three children all under the ages of seven.

I am also most fortunate to have three WOC nurses in my life: Joy Hooper, Donna Sellers, and Joanna Burgess-Stocks. I can contact any of those three nurses at any time of the day or night, especially Joanna, if I am having problems with my ostomy/neuropathy. A healthy support system is needed for anyone inflicted with these lifetime conditions. I have learned to always look at the positive side of life throughout all those years I had IBD and now my ostomy. Today I counsel individual ostomates who are having problems adjusting to their ostomy and speak to UOAA Affiliated Support Groups around the country via Zoom and share my story and listen to theirs. Remember, you’re not alone!

There’s no bond more important than the one with your own body. ConvaTec helps you create a healthy bond with yourself, your stoma. And then, with the world around you.

We want to show the world that people living with Ostomies have deep, beautiful nurturing relationships with everyone and everything around them.

This is Kya’s story: Coming out of the hospital postpartum and post-surgery, I honestly never thought I could never go swimming again. I never thought that I could get back to my normal life, I never thought I’d be my normal self. Turns out, I’m a better version of myself. I’m stronger and with Healthy Bonds, I am doing so much better. This is my life now. I used to think once I got an Ostomy that date nights would be stressful and less romantic, but I couldn’t have been further from the truth. Happy anniversary, baby.

 

Editor’s note: This blog/video is from one of our digital sponsors, ConvaTec. 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.

Bladder Cancer at Age 40 and the Path to Recovery

By Micheal Heath Waid

I noticed the faint pink color in my urine in November of 2018. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I mentioned it to my husband and he, being a nurse, suggested I see my General Practitioner immediately.

I made the appointment to see her. Assuming a UTI, she blamed me for “wearing dirty underwear” because it’s unusual for men to acquire that sort of infection. She tested me for an infection and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. Offended by her comments, I didn’t say much else. I took the medication and didn’t see the pink again. I assumed everything to be alright.

But then I saw pink urine reappear in August of 2019. I went back to my GP. Less snarky this time, she advanced a referral to the Urologist. The normal scans followed and discovered an anomaly in my bladder. A later cystoscopy confirmed two smallish tumors. The next parts of my journey are fairly standard. A Transurethral Resection of the Bladder Tumor followed the cystoscopy. The pathology from which confirmed muscle-invasive bladder cancer, Stage II.

Micheal with his husband James, a nurse, who encouraged him to see a doctor at the onset of his bladder cancer symptoms.

I had not heard many cancer survival stories. I spent a few days being completely devastated by the news, but fairly quickly something shifted me into business mode. I spoke with the Urologist who recommended chemotherapy followed by bladder removal. He explained the surgical options. He also explained that if I chose to not have the surgery that this cancer would ultimately result in my death.

Hearing that is not easy, but this decision was the easiest part of this entire experience. I elected to go through with the Radical Cystectomy to remove my bladder, prostate, seminal vesicles, and pelvic lymph nodes. I also elected, upon his recommendation, the neobladder option of urinary diversion. This Urologist would perform the surgery.

Port placement and chemotherapy next. Methotrexate, Vinblastin, Doxorubicin, and Cisplatin were the drug therapies the Oncologist felt would give me the best outcome. There were no illusions that chemotherapy would be the cure. Instead, they were used to increase my chances of survival post-surgery.

This Oncologist and the infusion nurses are the best medical professionals I have come across to date. The standard of care for chemotherapy recipients is off the charts here – which is wonderful because the chemotherapy portion of this trial is the worst experience I’ve ever endured. Trying to work through my chemotherapy proved much harder than I predicted, and I basically failed in that. I felt horribly sick all the time. I slept fourteen hours a day. By the end of my infusions, outside of the usual side effects of the drugs, I had developed several mental associations and the thought of certain mundane things made me feel sick. The thought of putting ice in my mouth made me sick. Receiving fluids to stave off dehydration made me sick. I could taste everything they injected into me. Luckily I only received four infusions, but I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

Surgery came about five weeks after chemotherapy ended. This gave me enough time to get some strength back. I still didn’t really have my hair back, but the beginning stages were sprouting.

This is where my fairly standard journey shifted. My surgery did not go as planned. I went under assuming I’d wake up with a neobladder, but instead I woke up with a urostomy.

My surgeon encountered complications in my abdomen that left him unable to create the neobladder. He consulted with my husband and they decided to go with our agreed-upon Plan B, the urostomy. The surgery took twice as long as planned, and according to my surgeon he was barely able to complete the urostomy because my blood vessels are “too short”. I’ve never thought of any part of my body as petite before.

I’m open about my circumstance and have realized that while bladder cancer is one of the most common cancers in the world, most people have no idea what this is all about

Post-surgery, I experienced a kind of reaction that cannot be fully explained. My kidneys were not functioning properly. My output was incredibly dark. So dark that they called in a Nephrologist for advice. My surgical team blames a drug called Toradol for the reaction while others blame the lengthened surgical process. I’m not really sure of the culprit but I am sure that I have permanent kidney damage from that surgery. The Nephrologist got me back on track quickly though.

This led to an extended stay in the hospital. Seven days total with intense back pain and lackluster care. I know that urostomies are not very common, but the nurses I encountered had very little exposure. One nurse throughout the week really knew how to apply the set up. It leaked a lot while in the hospital.
An ostomy nurse did visit me a little bit. I feared anyone touching my incision or my new stoma and couldn’t stop convulsing every time she tried to touch my abdomen. I know it frustrated her but it felt uncontrollable. She eventually quit coming by. They put us in touch with the major urostomy supply manufacturers so that we could begin ordering samples and from then we were on our own to figure out what worked. I haven’t seen an ostomy nurse since.

Recovery felt long. Six weeks away from work to heal. Moving was a challenge. Trying to sort out how to keep my urostomy from leaking challenged us. In the follow-up pathology from my surgery they also discovered that I had a second primary cancer in my prostate. Lucky to have had that removed as well.

It’s been a little over two years since my surgery and I’m doing well. I’ve sampled different supplies, and tried different ways to apply them, some successful and some not.

When I experience a leak I try to laugh about it. I am only 43 now with this permanent urostomy and I can’t spend the rest of my life being miserable. I choose to laugh when I pee on myself. Some times are harder than others, but overall I am pretty successful. I’m open about my circumstance and have realized that while bladder cancer is one of the most common cancers in the world, most people have no idea what this is all about. Luckily I’ve only encountered incredibly caring and receptive people.