ostomazing!

This is a scary ass operation you’re going through. I’m not here to say it’s not. Your life is going to change drastically - hopefully for the better compared to where you were at a few months back. But the truth is you’re not going to realize that for a while. You’re going to feel stigmatized, possibly in shock, and with a penetrating realization that there is no going back now. But you also probably have a morphine drip to click to your hearts content every seven or so minutes. Sweet, sweet morphine. And no joke you’re going to need it after that operation. Here are a few things that’ll most likely follow immediately after surgery.

You’re exhausted. Yes, you were just out for four-plus hours thanks to the annestician’s nap inducing skills but your body just went through a huge operation. I really suggest having made a calming playlist in advance and if you couldn’t listen to it while in surgery, then see if you can get someone to plug in your earphones in recovery. They say classical is the most calming, and I’m not knocking that but if jazz is your thing, do jazz; if you like rap, you can find the instrumental tracks pretty easily; and for everyone else there’s Explosions In The Sky. The key is non-verbal, according to many people who specialize in this kind of thing. Although there is also a huge market of spoken word calming tracks developed specifically for pre-during-and-post op that you can find online or on Spotify (which I found incredibly useful for this purpose.) I’ll add some helpful links to the resource page (which is in dire need of an update anyway) soon.

Pain. You will be in pain. You won’t know it thanks to your friend the morphine drip. Keep this where you can easily reach it at all times. It’s bound to fall off to the side of your bed or something at some point but don’t panic. Just call the nurse and she’ll get it for you. But seriously, that little fucker is your friend. Now this operation means you finally FINALLY get to eat like a normal human being again. But it’s going to take a bit. You’ll still be on clear liquids the first day or two until your surgeon thinks your ready. And then… Soft foods. Which really means anything that isn’t a hard fruit. A good place to start is oatmeal and mashed potatoes. Also if you dont do well with starch and don’t want to test yourself too much jus yet, stewed apples or bananas mashed with cinnamon are really good alternatives. The key is porridge-like consistency. From there you can slowly move on to more adventurous fare depending how comfortable you are. Your body is still out of it from the surgery so your appetite isn’t going to be huge but that’s a good thing. And remember, this isn’t a race, you (best of best cases) have your whole life to eat foods you gave up on long ago.

Seeing your situation for the first time is not going to be fun. You may very well freak out, have a breakdown, not wish this fate on your worst enemy. These are all normal responses. Totally and absolutely normal. And it looks a mess at the operation site. While some patients have the option of more discreet surgeries where an invasive incision doesn’t have to be made, I have a nice scar running down from below my navel to my pelvis. And when I first saw it there were staples (which help hold the stitches together as your skin heals) making that otherwise straight, very neat line look all jenky. It was gnarly. There is no other word to describe it. You’ve also been suited up with a transparent pouch where you find a small bud at your lower abdomen. Your stoma. The end of your small intestine that now pokes out of your abdominal wall. This is very fucking strange. This might bring you to tears. And that’s alright, seriously it is. If you were comforted by this new accessory to your outward appearance you are either ridiculously optimistic or very very scary. Some people find that naming their stoma helps. I come from a family that names everything, we have a very strange capacity for bringing inanimate objects to life. However besides ‘bud’, which is really a term surgeons also use to describe stoked because that’s what they look like - little shiny unopened flower buds, I have not found this to work for me. Maybe it does for you, maybe it doesn’t. Try it out and see if it helps you cope. I saw one person give his stoma the name “Stommie P.I.” that stoma obviously had a backstory and everything going for it. I mean, that bit of small intestine is probably freaked the fuck out, too. It’s used to the warmth of your insides and now is out there in the cold, cruel world with your epidermis. Be kind.

And remember that crying can cause pain. As can laughing. And coughing. And especially hiccups - which is the worst because apparently hiccups are quite common post abdominal surgery. Why do all these things bring jagged knife like stabbing pain that leaves you scared for the next round? Your diaphragm is behind your abdominal wall, when that jerks your abs do too, they clench and release. Your abdominal muscles are sore as all get up, and will be for a while. When you get around to having to go to the bathroom to pee you’ll go through a few more days of extra pain - which again is absolutely normal (not that I knew so I was under the impression something had gone wrong in my surgery that affected my bladder). It’s a pain that comes from the right side of your body. You’ll know when you feel it. And it’s because apparently you use your abdominals when you pee. Who knew. Now you do. It’s going to take a few more weeks for this to fade out but it will.