A Dirty Wound

Home at last! Clem here, with an update on how I am and where I'll be going next.

The "take down" surgery went quite well, and I guess you've been following along with all that it took in the hospital to get my digestive tract working again. Let's catch up with what I've learned today:

An ileostomy repair leaves what they call a "dirty wound." I suppose that's obvious, with fecal matter right there in the hole and all. *yuck* In order to deal with that, the way they close the wound is very unusual. They stitch the holes in the intestine and drop it back down inside. Then they stitch the holes in the fascia, but they leave the wound in the skin wide open! Yes, at this moment there is a 3" hole in my side, through which I can see scary-looking guts and stuff. Ok, it's not really all that scary, but it's definitely a change from the neat, glued-together scars that were there to greet me upon waking up in the past. The wound will stay open like that until it heals up and closes on its own. I can shower with it just like it is--let the water run right over it. Wild, eh? There's never a boring moment around here.

It keeps getting better: since my large intestine has been unemployed for the last few weeks, and handled roughly before that, I can look forward to a little touch of colitis. (Sing Elton John's song, "...the girl with colitis goes by..." In other words, difficult-to-control, very watery stools for the next few weeks. If I come to visit, don't seat me on the good furniture.

Just kidding! I hope... The doctor asked me this morning if I'd had any "accidents", with a look that suggested he already knew the answer and that it would be an embarrassed "yes." But no! So far, so good, I've been able to keep things where they belong, and I'm really happy about it. He said that I would have a smaller than usual section of the intestine to collect stool, but that it would get better with time. The part that's doing that job now used to be a long way up the line, so it's not as elastic as the original equipment had become. "Increased frequency" is a relative term, though, and even if I'm in the bathroom 10 times a day that's still half what I was dealing with when there was a huge tumor stopping up the plumbing.

Well, that's more than you ever wanted to know about me, isn't it? Me, too! I have learned so much about anatomy and what is possible that I am amazed every day. Now that I've walked a bit in the shoes of the folks who have an ostomy I am humbled and encouraged by their dignity and perseverance. As for the other people I see in the hospital, they are a constant reminder of how lucky I am and how easy I have it. Frankly, I wouldn't trade with a one of them. The inspiration that I get from them keeps me going every day.

Finally, I'd like to say more good things about the staff at Memorial Hospital. I've been a guest in their facility for three extended stays now, and a host of shorter visits, and the people there have been fantastic. Every one of them, from the janitor up, has been polite, concerned, respectful and they have gone out of their way to maintain my dignity and humor. I'm going to do something nice for them when this is all over.

Cheers,

Clem