A Tough 10 Days

Whilst I was out last night with some great friends, one of the more gorgeous ones said that I hadn’t updated the blog recently.  I explained that the last ten days had been a bit tough and so it was probably wise that I hadn’t written anything as it might have been a bit too emotional.  But bugger it Lesley, here goes….

The past ten days have been a little rough.  As you will have guessed from my previous Roy Castle themed post, I experienced constipation for the first time in my life.  Not a pleasant experience, as anyone who has suffered it will tell you, but thankfully all cured with a few doses of LAXIDO.  Normal service has now been resumed and Steve the Stoma is back to his normal happy bag-filling self.

As a consequence of this and my more general ‘fed-up-ness’ with everything, I was granted a week off the chemo treatment.  My very understanding and supportive Oncologist clearly understood that I needed a bit of downtime and granted me a bit of extra time away from the routine of the chemo trail.  Unfortunately, my brief sojourn was interrupted by a trip to the hospital to attend to my, as of yet, unhealed arse wound.

It is now over four months since my op and the main botty wound has yet to heal.  Normally this is okay and I just have to maintain my trouser dignity through the use of a certain pantaloon product with wings (no not a can of Red Bull).  On a couple of occasions over the past four months I have experienced a sudden outpouring of bloody bum juice.  When it happened again this week, I ended up getting myself rather wound-up and just a tad scared of what the heck was going on.  A trip to the hospital and a quick consultation with the surgical team calmed everything down and provided me with the reassurance I needed.  Although the experience of having the wound probed with a swab was something special and a tad ticklish and he was such a nice young chap as well.

On a brighter note, I have started to notice the changes in life that have come about as a consequence of my op and treatment.  Apart from the obvious one of not spending endless amounts of time sat glued to the loo with my iPad, I realised that I no longer collect large quantities of fluff in my belly-button.  Steve the Stoma and my ‘bag-for-life’ act as a barrier to the large balls of fluff that used to collect there.  They always proved to be a source of debate and discussion in our household (we don’t get out much).  I am sure there are others and I will take note and post in future comments.