I woke up wide awake. It’s better to change the bag in the morning, to avoid more stool coming out as you’re changing the bag. Of course it’s out of your control, but because it’s morning, there’s less going through your system at that time. The plan was to change my bag and then take a much needed shower. My home nurse (mom) did a great job getting all the supplies organized in the bathroom. We also got a chair for me to sit on in the bathroom. I was nervous. She was nervous too. I took a seat and we got underway. As I slowly removed my bag from my stomach I was overwhelmed with what was to come. It smelt bad. I had changed the bag three times prior in the hospital, but keep in mind, those three times were one day apart and when I was not eating as much as I was up until then. It had been four days since the last time I changed the bag. Meaning it was  a lot more dirty than the last time. My stoma was completely covered with stool. This grossed me out. I still was not very comfortable touching the stoma itself. There are no nerve endings in the stoma and it is normal for it to bleed a bit as you touch it, but it’s a hard thing to get used to. I certainly wasn’t comfortable yet. The nurse assured me cleaning the stoma wasn’t as important as cleaning the skin around it. I knew that, but with the bag off, and because it was my first time, I wanted to do a good job cleaning everything. It took me a good 30-40 minutes to clean my stoma, the skin around the stoma, and remove all the adhesive tape off my skin. That was only the first step. The adhesive remover was a very important thing to have. It works wonders. Warm wash cloths for the skin around the stoma and wet paper towels I feel work best for getting the job done. Soap is not necessary, and not recommended. No need to add anything that can aggravate the skin or stoma area. We continued on. Measuring the stoma, re-cleaning and drying the area, and getting the bag on. It was done. I did it. It took over an hour though. Way too long. It was a success, but it took way too long. We also changed the bandage and cleaned around the stitches where the incision was. As I sat on the chair in the bathroom, relaxing after what felt like a full days work, I started to feel dizzy. I’ve gotten dizzy and lightheaded many times in the past, but I’ve never fainted. My mom came back in and I mentioned I felt dizzy. Next thing I know, I woke up to my mom anxiously calling my name and my dad rubbing my head in his underwear (he had just gotten out of the shower.) I passed out. I don’t know why. It must have been the adrenaline. It was all over, the bag was on and done, but I passed out. I’ve never fainted before. My ears were ringing and the color had left my face. I was more upset for scaring my mom. She was freaked out. I was sitting up and because of that when I fainted I was trying to fight it and I think it looked more like I was having a seizure. Oops. Sorry, mom. She was under enough stress as it was and I didn’t like worrying her more than normal. Half alert, I mentioned I was going to skip the shower, and decided to join Osty back in bed. A few hours of sleep got me feeling much better.

Easter Sunday. I woke up to my friend peeking her head in to check in on me. Her and my sister were leaving later on in the day and I was bummed knowing soon they’d be gone. I was pretty sore when I woke up today. I took another Oxy and fell asleep for another hour. My mom made me pancakes, bacon, and some toast. Mmmmmm. By this time, I’ve been eating hospital food for the past three weeks so probably anything would have tasted like heaven, but believe me when I say, my mom is a killer cook. I stuffed my face, made my way to the bathroom to empty my bag and get on with my day.  Here’s another emptying your bag tip. At first you’re going to be very sore. Any movement will seem impossible. Because of this, make sure everything you need is in arms length. I had a little end table positioned right next to the toilet that I had the wet wipes on. I also folded a small hand towel and laid it on the very back of the toilet bowl. You want to sit as far back as possible so it makes it easy to empty. Also, make sure you throw some toilet paper into the toilet before you empty the bag, to avoid water splashing. Next. It’s poo. It’s going to smell. Thankfully, it’s 2015, and they have thought of everything. May I introduce to you, Poo Pourri. That’s right. Poo Pourri. Genius. You spray about 5-6 times into the bowl and it really covers the odor. It works. It works real well. And the best part is they have travel size bottles that fit in your pocket. I recommend this.

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I woke up, ordered breakfast, and managed to finagle my way up and out of bed, and to the bathroom… all by myself! I emptied my bag for the first time sitting on the actual toilet. It went well. A little messier than I had anticipated, but certainly something that I knew would get easier with time. I was still super sore and tender. Laughing, coughing and sneezing  were all things that had to be avoided at all costs.
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On average I am 150 pounds. I am now 112. I am weak. Skin and bones. My stomach is so sore I can barely move. They assure me it will get better, it just would take time. I could eat whatever I wanted now but I didn’t have much of an appetite. I had a catheter in and a tube stitched into my rectum. I had a JP Drain where my incision had been. A JP drain is a grenade looking thing that was draining liquid from the incision site. Thankfully, they did the surgery laparoscopically. This involves a smaller incision which causes less pain than an actual incision and thus makes post surgery a bit easier, which I am extremely grateful for, because I feel like absolute shit. The fact that I haven’t showered in days isn’t even a concern (at least not for me, Osty may have a different opinion on the matter). Moving wasn’t an option. The doctors came in early Tuesday with three goals. 1. To get me out of bed 2. To get me to eat something 3. To drink.
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Tonight was different. I don’t remember much. I remember my mom mentioning to me that a close friend was there. She had said that he was going to stay with me over night and asked if that was okay. I was drunk with pain and an anesthesia hang over but said yes. I probably would have said yes to anything. It wouldn’t be until a couple of days later, when I was thinking more clearly, that I realized that this was truly the best thing that could have happened. I am not sure to this day he even realizes how huge a role he played in making that awful first night easier for not just me, but my parents. My mom needed rest. For her to be there all night, getting little to no sleep, would not have been ideal. So, my parents went back to the hotel to get a full night’s rest. I had a button in my left hand that controlled the morphine drip that dripped into my IV. It was simple. If I was in pain, I pressed the button, and I’d receive pain medicine (to a certain extent of course, I wasn’t going to overdose on pain medicine if I just kept on pressing). I couldn’t really move much. My stomach was extremely tender, but I was so heavily medicated that the pain was not the biggest thing on my mind. My mouth was super dry. That’s what I remember the most. All night I asked my friend to give me ice chips – thinking back I wonder now how many times I actually asked him, but it feels like it was every 20 minutes. If I needed water he’d get me water. Anything at all, at any time, he was up, talking to the nurses, making sure I was comfortable. We had never once planned on him making that drive to Chapel Hill. Not once. I don’t know what made him hop in his car and drive up. He had only moved up to Myrtle Beach a few weeks prior and was still kind of getting his life straightened out. But it was the best thing that could have happened. Like I said I knew I had great friends. But this was something else. I will never be able to show him how much him being there meant to me. My parents came to relieve him early the next morning. He went back to the hotel to rest for a few hours before he headed back home. Today is Tuesday. Post Surgery. Time to recover.