{this is how i waste my time}

The Reality of this Situation…

…is setting in.

Last September I went into the Cleveland Clinic for life-saving surgery.  I didn’t ride to the hospital in an ambulance and I don’t mean to sound dramatic when I say that, but I also feel confident I wouldn’t be alive now if it weren’t for having my colon removed.  To emphasize this point, I’ll point to the fact that I had to check myself in the day before I was actually scheduled for surgery.  I had dropped thirty pounds in three months, I was going to the bathroom every thirty minutes, and even chugging bottles of Pedialyte couldn’t keep my hydrated.  The pain of going number two was so intense I was literally pulling my hair out to distract myself while on the toilet.  If that’s not seriously fucked up, I don’t know what is.

So, with my immune system waging a jihad on my large intestine, the surgeon removed the roughly five feet of colon and my nine-month, three-surgery adventure in colorectal land was under way.  Since that time the only thought I’ve had in the back of my mind (when it comes to health) has been, “the next surgery is in March.”  For the majority of the past six months I’ve been under the impression I was going to go in, have my j-pouch created, get my end ileostomy turned into a diverting-loop ileostomy, and be back on my feet in three, maybe four weeks.  The real work wasn’t going to be until the end of June—when I actually had to start using my new pouch.

The recent news of possibly having surgeries two and three combined into one, final procedure was welcoming, but brought with it a whole new necessary mental approach.  If things end up going this route I’ll regress to a restricted diet for probably six to eight weeks, I’ll have to learn how to deal with this new approach to waste collection and removal while also dealing with incision pain, and also won’t really be back on my feet for six weeks (or more).  I’ve been reacquainted with a freedom of life that may soon be partially taken away from me again.  That sucks.

I’ve fought many mental battles with myself over this whole situation and stayed extremely positive for the most part.  I feel pumped, almost excited to go in and get this over with.  I’m ready to kick ass and take names.  Yet, the true reality of what is about to happen is beginning to set in.  I know I’ll eventually gain back most of the freedoms I have now, but really and truly I am healthier now than I will ever be with a j-pouch.  It’s the trade-off for gaining the convenience of no external pouch.

So how do I make sure I really get the most out of my last few days?  That’s a great question.  My last real meal will be breakfast on Wednesday; after that I go to a clear liquids diet.  So with that in mind, I’ve decided I will be having a McGangBang for dinner on Tuesday.  It just seems like the right thing to do.

I’m going out with guns blazing.