Waiting is not fun, especially when you are waiting for surgery. The last few days have been hard and I'm scared it's gonna get harder. Some days I feel down and think..."Why me?" I've always been taught that life isn't fair, and I know everyone is presented with challenges which ultimately make them stronger...but am I not strong enough yet?
This surgery is taking place at one of the hardest times in my life. I'm trying to be strong, but I feel really alone. I lost someone I loved, and thought felt the same for me. For the last few months I've been trying to hold on to "what was" as opposed to "what is." I'm trying to change and move on, but a life altering surgery is not making the process any easier. I feel like my life has been turned upside down and I truly have no idea what to expect next.
Time on earth is brief, time passes and things change. Nothing will ever stay the same, and I pray all these changes and challenges bring me health and happiness.
Thank you to my wonderful family and friends who have always been there for me, each of you are blessings in my life!!!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I think my surgeon may be Superman
After further investigation of the man who will be ripping out my guts, I found that he may be superhuman. Not only is he the Associate Professor of Surgery and Biomedical Engineering, and Director of the Vanderbilt Colon and Rectal Program, he also played for the NFL. Yes...he played for the New England Patriots.
Is that natural? Can people be both medical genius and talented athlete? Just a thought, but all I can say is "Thank You!"
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Rollin' in the Jeep
After searching all over the internet for a "seatbelt buddy"and having no luck, I decided to make my own so I can drive comfortably after surgery. The nurse said you must protect your stoma site while wearing a seat belt and not put pressure on the area. It's not exactly what I was looking for, but it was less expensive and it's kinda cute...and pink!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Too Funny....
For those of you who don't know much about the surgery I'm having, here are the basic details: The surgeon will be removing my large intestine & rectum and "making" me a new rectum out of my small intestine (called a J-Pouch). While my new pouch heals I'll have an ileostomy "poop" bag for a few months. Sounds fun huh?
Ladies, don't anyone run out and try to get one of these pouches or bags... but FYI: I have heard they are the "must have" accessory for summer!
I was doing some research and looking into support groups/etc. and came across some guys idea for a group of "J-Pouchers" called "Same sh*t, different way." I think this group actually does exhist on FaceBook . I love it!!! Maybe it's the distorted since of humor I have this month, but I even pondered re-naming the blog. Don't know if my parents would be too proud of that one...but damn it's funny!
Dad always says "If you don't laugh, you gotta cry," and I choose to laugh!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Explanation of a Colonoscopy.....
My friend Jennifer sent this to me the day before my last colonoscopy. It is such an accurate description, I think the doctor should use this in explaining the procedure.
This is from news hound Dave Barry's Colonoscopy Journal:
… I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes, and here I am being kind, like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground. MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' has to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, Feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
About The Writer: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
This is from news hound Dave Barry's Colonoscopy Journal:
… I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes, and here I am being kind, like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground. MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' has to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, Feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
About The Writer: Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Appointment Went Well!
Back from Nashville and I survived! The day was very intense, yet I was thankful for such nice staff and nurses at the hospital. My doctor recommended the Laproscopic IPAA ( Ileal Pouch Anal Anastomosis) surgery as the other two doctors suggested.....so I'm doing it. I guess it does make me feel better that 3 out of 3 doctors feel this is the best choice for me. Yet, it is scary signing documents to have your colon and rectum ripped out, and receiving a complimentary "poop" pouch for a few months.
So, I met my Stoma/ Ostomy nurse (who was great), and she marked my spot. It's not attractive, however as long as I feel better and get back to feeling like myself this surgery will definitely be worth all the pain and discomfort. It's been a rough last 4 years and the medication is awful; I can't wait to feel good again!!!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Meeting the guy who's removing my Guts...
Okay, I survived a Valentine's Day w/o a man, so I definitely can make it through this appointment tomorrow. Actually V-Day was pretty fun thanks to some Cosmos, Kat Williams DVD's, and great friends!!! (I still can't believe he didn't call!)
Tomorrow we trek back to Vandy to meet my surgeon and get the final details, etc. about my surgery. I am a ball of nerves, and can't believe I've decided to blog my experience. As long as I'm just blogging and not playing Dungeons & Dragons/ World of WarCraft / Etc... I guess I'm not a total dork! Normal people blog...right? I think it is important to document the experience and my ups and downs. So...here I go
Tomorrow we trek back to Vandy to meet my surgeon and get the final details, etc. about my surgery. I am a ball of nerves, and can't believe I've decided to blog my experience. As long as I'm just blogging and not playing Dungeons & Dragons/ World of WarCraft / Etc... I guess I'm not a total dork! Normal people blog...right? I think it is important to document the experience and my ups and downs. So...here I go
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