35 and so, so wise from new lessons.

Hello internet friends....
It has been some time. I have had a lot going on and really have had nothing I felt would be slightly entertaining.
I turned 35 the other day. I have stopped counting. I will be 35 next year too. I have found my first grey hair. The fine lines around my eyes are more prominent than ever, despite my religious use of creams and potions and ALWAYS wearing sunglasses so I don't squint. I also wear them because I feel very incognito. You know- I have to throw off the paparazzi that stalk me. ;-)
I don't really like getting older. Well, I don't mind the number changing, but I'm not ready to be old. I'm not ready for anti-aging creams and fine lines. I'm only 25, 30, 35.... And boom, there they are. It doesn't help that I feel like I have lost a few years to UC. I lost my early 30s. To me those are prim years. You are not 'just' in your 20s to those older than you who still see you as a child no matter how much you've accomplished. And you are still far enough from 40 to still be a little stupid, a little crazy and not have people look at you like you don't have your life together because you are 40. You are close to your 20-something body. Your 20-something skin. Instead of having all that wonderful stuff, I had horrible skin and weight gain from prednisone. Moon face, hair falling out in clumps, arthritis, blood transfusions, 10 pills a day and a dozen or so other side effects from the many different meds I was on to try to get this shit (shitting?) under control. Perfect prime real estate of life in the toilet. Down the toilet. In more ways than one.
I know there are people older than me who will say I'm ONLY 35...I know, I know.... but in this moment I want those years back. I can't count how many times I told my daughter 'No' because I was in too much pain, or too much fatigue to play with her. Or that I couldn't go to the park because I was in the freaking bathroom AGAIN, 30 times a day. Up to 45 minutes at a time. In pain. Crying. I remember moments so bad I thought I was dying. I had told my Hubs, I think I'm dying. Begging, crying, wishing it would stop. And my little girl was so disappointed. Every time. Now she wants to know if she'll need her large intestine out. I tell her I hope not. I don't want to just say no and make a false promise. She's 7 now and recalls me always being sick. Missing me when I was in the hospital all those times. Remembering I was always too tired to play. I can't erase that. That bothers me. I call bullshit. Not for me, but for her. No kid should have to deal with that crap. Here's me and my oldest at dinner the other night. She's happy I can actually go to restaurants now and not watch everyone eat or spend it in the WC(water closet). I am too. ---->

In the last few days I've learned that a delicious filet mignon is not worth it. My body is not friends with red meat anymore. My delicious and expensive Birthday dinner made me extremely nauseous for hours. I hadn't felt like that since before surgery. So, no more red meat for me. Except McDonald's because I'm sure it's not real meat and for whatever reason it's the only fast food that has never made me sick in my life.
I've learned that a real, true best friend is hard to come by. One you have 'take to the grave' shit with, and can still laugh about the stuff you did at 15, when you are 35. Laugh until your stomach hurts about how dumb you were, and then five minutes later discuss something mature, like the dumb stuff you did at 30. ;-)
On the flip, I've learned that when you go through something and feel alone for so long, and then find a group of people who know your pain (online, who you'll probably never meet), you have a bond and a friendship that is truly open and non-judging. I've 'met' such great people on some of the Facebook support pages I've found that have made such a difference. It changed me from feeling isolated in my struggle, to wanting to speak out and inform and educate. That is such a great thing. For all the crap that is out there on the internet, it is so amazing when something positive and life impacting, comes from it.
Oh! I took a new 'hidden ostomy' picture from my night out on my Birthday.

 No one would ever think... and I wear whatever I want. As we've seen in my "I have no shame" pictures.
I have also learned that it is possible to have new, wonderful people come into your life in your 30s. Moving was difficult because it is hard to develop new, trusting friendships as you get older, especially because most of the time I have spent in Texas I have been sick. Luckily, my daughter was in Kinder with an awesome little girl who became her friend, and the extension of that is I am lucky to count her mom, Samara, as a friend now. Her kids are pretty fantastic too.

While I was changing my wafer yesterday I had a thought. I was looking at my abdomen and it occurred to me that I don't even notice the stoma anymore. It doesn't jump out at me anymore. It's just there. And then I realized in 2 weeks, I would be having my reversal and my body as I had gotten used to, would change again. It will be less gutting, more putting back together. FrankenBelly getting reworked. So I took a picture. Truly, in days the stoma will be gone. And I got a little sad. I went from being horrified to being sad in a few months???!! What? It's true. My stoma is generally easy. Yes, it can be a pain in the ass (not really, because that is physically impossible) but it's easy. It's smelly when I change the bag (like, whoa) but I have gotten use to the ease of it, and the never needing to poop part of it. That, my friends, is absolute heaven after years of dying a little 30 times a day.
Anyway, I got sad because now I have to get used to something else. Another recovery, another adjustment. Possible J pouch issues, and yes, possible pooping issues.
I will fight through it though... because at this point in life I am used to things most people can't imagine. I'm used to unbearable pain. Uncomfortable tests on modesty erasing body parts. I'm USED to it. No one should ever have to get used to it. My dad was complaining about his ONCE EVERY TEN YEAR Colonoscopy. Yeah- I couldn't even say welcome to my world because I'm pretty sure at one point I had 3 in less than a year. Once every ten!? Perfect!!
So, here's my pic of the abdomen I was worried about hating and then hating and now loving----->

I love my scar. I'm going to love my stoma scar too. I'm winning the war, not just the battle. It was a losing battle until my colectomy. The second my colon came out, I won. Life has been crazy. I think this coming year will be the best I've seen in a very long time. Looking forward to some good stuff. Two weeks from today is my reversal. Let's hope it goes without a hitch. So weird. I'm only going to have a stoma two more weeks. Funny how we adapt and things that seemed so overwhelming and dramatic become normal. I have a stoma. It's normal. Wow- I'm so enlightened now that I'm 35. =)

Thanks for reading.
Gutsy is off to bed.
XO

Hello internet friends....
It has been some time. I have had a lot going on and really have had nothing I felt would be slightly entertaining.
I turned 35 the other day. I have stopped counting. I will be 35 next year too. I have found my first grey hair. The fine lines around my eyes are more prominent than ever, despite my religious use of creams and potions and ALWAYS wearing sunglasses so I don't squint. I also wear them because I feel very incognito. You know- I have to throw off the paparazzi that stalk me. ;-)
I don't really like getting older. Well, I don't mind the number changing, but I'm not ready to be old. I'm not ready for anti-aging creams and fine lines. I'm only 25, 30, 35.... And boom, there they are. It doesn't help that I feel like I have lost a few years to UC. I lost my early 30s. To me those are prim years. You are not 'just' in your 20s to those older than you who still see you as a child no matter how much you've accomplished. And you are still far enough from 40 to still be a little stupid, a little crazy and not have people look at you like you don't have your life together because you are 40. You are close to your 20-something body. Your 20-something skin. Instead of having all that wonderful stuff, I had horrible skin and weight gain from prednisone. Moon face, hair falling out in clumps, arthritis, blood transfusions, 10 pills a day and a dozen or so other side effects from the many different meds I was on to try to get this shit (shitting?) under control. Perfect prime real estate of life in the toilet. Down the toilet. In more ways than one.
I know there are people older than me who will say I'm ONLY 35...I know, I know.... but in this moment I want those years back. I can't count how many times I told my daughter 'No' because I was in too much pain, or too much fatigue to play with her. Or that I couldn't go to the park because I was in the freaking bathroom AGAIN, 30 times a day. Up to 45 minutes at a time. In pain. Crying. I remember moments so bad I thought I was dying. I had told my Hubs, I think I'm dying. Begging, crying, wishing it would stop. And my little girl was so disappointed. Every time. Now she wants to know if she'll need her large intestine out. I tell her I hope not. I don't want to just say no and make a false promise. She's 7 now and recalls me always being sick. Missing me when I was in the hospital all those times. Remembering I was always too tired to play. I can't erase that. That bothers me. I call bullshit. Not for me, but for her. No kid should have to deal with that crap. Here's me and my oldest at dinner the other night. She's happy I can actually go to restaurants now and not watch everyone eat or spend it in the WC(water closet). I am too. ---->

In the last few days I've learned that a delicious filet mignon is not worth it. My body is not friends with red meat anymore. My delicious and expensive Birthday dinner made me extremely nauseous for hours. I hadn't felt like that since before surgery. So, no more red meat for me. Except McDonald's because I'm sure it's not real meat and for whatever reason it's the only fast food that has never made me sick in my life.
I've learned that a real, true best friend is hard to come by. One you have 'take to the grave' shit with, and can still laugh about the stuff you did at 15, when you are 35. Laugh until your stomach hurts about how dumb you were, and then five minutes later discuss something mature, like the dumb stuff you did at 30. ;-)
On the flip, I've learned that when you go through something and feel alone for so long, and then find a group of people who know your pain (online, who you'll probably never meet), you have a bond and a friendship that is truly open and non-judging. I've 'met' such great people on some of the Facebook support pages I've found that have made such a difference. It changed me from feeling isolated in my struggle, to wanting to speak out and inform and educate. That is such a great thing. For all the crap that is out there on the internet, it is so amazing when something positive and life impacting, comes from it.
Oh! I took a new 'hidden ostomy' picture from my night out on my Birthday.

 No one would ever think... and I wear whatever I want. As we've seen in my "I have no shame" pictures.
I have also learned that it is possible to have new, wonderful people come into your life in your 30s. Moving was difficult because it is hard to develop new, trusting friendships as you get older, especially because most of the time I have spent in Texas I have been sick. Luckily, my daughter was in Kinder with an awesome little girl who became her friend, and the extension of that is I am lucky to count her mom, Samara, as a friend now. Her kids are pretty fantastic too.

While I was changing my wafer yesterday I had a thought. I was looking at my abdomen and it occurred to me that I don't even notice the stoma anymore. It doesn't jump out at me anymore. It's just there. And then I realized in 2 weeks, I would be having my reversal and my body as I had gotten used to, would change again. It will be less gutting, more putting back together. FrankenBelly getting reworked. So I took a picture. Truly, in days the stoma will be gone. And I got a little sad. I went from being horrified to being sad in a few months???!! What? It's true. My stoma is generally easy. Yes, it can be a pain in the ass (not really, because that is physically impossible) but it's easy. It's smelly when I change the bag (like, whoa) but I have gotten use to the ease of it, and the never needing to poop part of it. That, my friends, is absolute heaven after years of dying a little 30 times a day.
Anyway, I got sad because now I have to get used to something else. Another recovery, another adjustment. Possible J pouch issues, and yes, possible pooping issues.
I will fight through it though... because at this point in life I am used to things most people can't imagine. I'm used to unbearable pain. Uncomfortable tests on modesty erasing body parts. I'm USED to it. No one should ever have to get used to it. My dad was complaining about his ONCE EVERY TEN YEAR Colonoscopy. Yeah- I couldn't even say welcome to my world because I'm pretty sure at one point I had 3 in less than a year. Once every ten!? Perfect!!
So, here's my pic of the abdomen I was worried about hating and then hating and now loving----->

I love my scar. I'm going to love my stoma scar too. I'm winning the war, not just the battle. It was a losing battle until my colectomy. The second my colon came out, I won. Life has been crazy. I think this coming year will be the best I've seen in a very long time. Looking forward to some good stuff. Two weeks from today is my reversal. Let's hope it goes without a hitch. So weird. I'm only going to have a stoma two more weeks. Funny how we adapt and things that seemed so overwhelming and dramatic become normal. I have a stoma. It's normal. Wow- I'm so enlightened now that I'm 35. =)

Thanks for reading.
Gutsy is off to bed.
XO