Long time no write, rat fans but I have been up to my neck innit! Eric and Hannie are couriers for a travel firm who lost their daughter to the filth when she was 23. They organise trips to Europe – their firm donates the coach and diesel and we pay the full price of the trip so any profit made goes to Hayward House Hospice in Nottingham.
This year we went to Bruges and Brussels.I have been there a few times and Irene and I both enjoy the town. We went to Ypres one day – the Museum of Flanders field is fascinating but while we were in the museum, Tom-ass (Tom-ass for those of you who don’t know is my stoma) decided to be very naughty. As we travelled through the museum which is amazing, I “felt a smell” and had to go and find a toilet. The toilets were being renovated and all they had was a porta cabin at the back of the museum and getting in the cubicle I found that collateral damage was severe. To put it bluntly, I was clarted. I had my stoma kit and clean underclarts but no running water in a tiny cubicle. Changing necessitated a strip off job and as I was cleaning myself up a hand came under the cubicle and grabbed my trousers!
I dropped my twenty two stones on is hand ( or should it be kilos in Belgium?) an called him or her a name and they scarpered. Getting clean was not easy but I managed it. (Forever in a Belgian landfill lies a pair of Wilkie’s underclarts abandoned in the most heroic of circumstances ......gone, but certainly not forgotten.)
I went back and told Eric of my near escape and asked him as an experienced courier how he would have dealt with this one – me with no trousers, no shop open, no wallet with money and cash cards and no phone to let anyone know where I was! He is still thinking about it.
Fast forward to last Monday. I have been toying with the idea of irrigation and finally got to see my stoma nurse for some serious lessons on doing what so called celebrities pay a fortune for – colonic irrigation.
We got ensconced in a side ward with a toilet and proceeded to do the business. Fill the bag, check the temperature, insert the cone after putting the belt on with the sleeve on and away we went. Apart for a few leaks it went well and about forty five minutes later I was cleaned up after having made a major deposit that my stoma nurse was extremely proud of – and so was I.
Tuesday was my exam – I had to do it all by myself and got myself in position with my “apparatus” but apparently my bowel had turned! Naughty boy and I had quite a job getting the cone where I wanted it so I could get a flow of water. The stoma nurse was laughing telling about a patient that she had several months earlier who got about four pints of water in and waited and waited and waited and nothing came out! Oh how we laughed about that one.
I was leaking quite a bit but we estimate that we got about 1.8 litres in and rolled up the sleeve for peristalsis to start. Thirty minutes later and we were still waiting. I walked up and down. Jumped up and down. Massaged my stomach up and down. The nurse went to see another patient and came back half an hour later. “All done?” she asked. Not sausage. Not a drip. Drier than my throat on a Sunday morning after a gallon of beer the night before. So off she went again to see another patient.
“Remember that patient I told you about before whose bowel accepted all of the water and none came out......” she said “I think you are another one” and off she went to get a doctor. Now we all know about hospitals and doctors don’t we? That’s it I thought – here all day now – might even have to stay in knowing my luck.
The Chinese doctor arrived fairly quickly and had a feel round and then informed me that the bowel can absorb a lot of water – that is its job – and everything will come out when it is ready but if I felt unwell or had severe pains I was to hit three nines and get into hospital very quickly because I may have a twisted or blocked bowel.
So I was now sat in the car like an unexploded bomb with 1.8 litres of water waiting to be evacuated. Tim knows all about my eruptions and was panicking. Finally got home and nothing happened.
Well all I can say, dear reader, is that my colon must be extra special at absorbing water. I finally “went” last night – six days after my irrigation. And it was solid. The Wilkie curse strikes again!
And irrigation? The jury is still out, The idea of some control is very appealing because pre-operation I was regular every day and now it is once a week or more and when it comes, boy does it come!
