#ostomate

I’m sick to death of people telling me I’m “brave”, “strong”, “a warrior”, “a fighter”.

I am not- I’m just a person who never had a choice.

This space is dedicated to my journey with my upcoming colorectal surgery, and after, adapting to my new life post-surgery with a colostomy bag. I think it will be therapeutic for me to document this journey. I am a writer, after all. I write about hope and heart and real connections. And if ever there was a time for me to seek solace and healing through writing, it’s now.

I am also eager to hear from other ostomates about their experiences. I welcome any advice, tips, and humor you can bring. I am eager to hear your stories! I want this to be a safe space for all. Understand that I will not tolerate ridicule or shaming on this blog. Be respectful, or go away.

Guess who was well enough to getaway for a few days...ME. It was bit cold and rainy in the mountains, but I tolerated all pretty good. Which is evident by the smile.

A throwback to 2018, when Stan Lee was only 5. Today marks 13 years. Bit crazy to think about really.

Also, why did 2018 Stan Lee Stoma look like Sam Claflin in Enola Holmes? Did Netflix steal my idea 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Initially, I was deeply afraid that my ileostomy procedure would diminish my connection to the natural world, make me unnatural in some way. How could it not? I would have a plastic bag attached to me for the rest of my life, I would have my intestines sewn into my skin. In my mind, these adaptations were going to irreparably separate me from the natural order.

I have come to realize that this is simply untrue. What could be more natural than survival? What could be more natural than adapting to the environment that you are born into? Disability is part of nature's diversity, a part of the chaos that makes up the universe. The strive to live, the strive to build a better life, the strive to protect you and yours, that is of nature. I did not become less because of this, I am simply adapting. And that adaptation is precious.