A very good day

Today has been excellent! It's my rest day from work, but, what with the heat and general unchanging scenery in our flat, my husband & I decided to go on a relaxing trip out into the cool, seaside air. I don't think I can emphasise how positive an effect this has had on my spirits; I feel refreshed, healthy (for the walking) and calm.

Whilst we were out, I also passed two mini-milestones that I thought I'd note here:

• Firstly, I ate potato skins. One of them actually turned out to have sweetcorn in the topping, too, so I chewed them very, very well, and am pleased to say that I haven't had any negative side-effects so far. My stoma was pretty noisy this evening in response, I think, but as I was home, I didn't mind. I'm so happy about this: potato skins and sweetcorn are two things I love and two that I thought I'd definitely have to avoid in the future. 
• Secondly, I went into a lingerie shop and tried some things on. This wouldn't be hugely unusual, but it's the first time I've been into a changing room since my operation and so I had to take a few moments to get used to my reflection; both the addition of the scar and bag, and the subtraction of some of my curves (fortunately, not all of them, and thankfully I no longer look like a slightly grey, sunken-eyed school girl, like I did in hospital!). I can't quite explain it, but I get the sense that I came to terms with something whilst looking at that reflection. I'll try to explore it a little bit over the next few days, but right now, I'm going to go to bed.

It's been a very good day.

Driving!

I felt a little negative when posting that last entry, so I thought I'd end the day with something a little more positive: driving. I posted a while ago, when I was pondering driving after my surgery, and had to go through the horrors of calling up my car insurance company for no real reason. Well, about a month on, and I'm driving like normal and have had no problems whatsoever - no leaks, no unexpected aches or pains, and no (apparent) memory loss regarding my actual ability to drive!

The only difference between my driving, pre- and post-colon-removal, is that I now drive with a hand towel folded up and across my tummy, to protect my stoma from my seat-belt. I sometimes forget this, but find it more comfortable when I have it. And what's really great about it is that it was easy to find, is easy to store, and, should I ever have a leak in the car, I can use it to pad it out until I can get somewhere to fix things!

Driving again has helped me to feel more independent and capable, and has meant that my husband & I have another method of transport to use when one or both of us need to just get out of our flat, which we've spent much more time in recently than we were used to! I've never been one of those people who loves driving for the sake of it - indeed, when I was learning to drive and just after I passed my test, I absolutely hated driving - but I am so happy that I simply can.

Hair loss

Today, I agreed with my husband to go and see my GP about my hair. Now, I'm not really worried or anything, but my hair started falling out a little more than normal about a month ago. I was told by the nurses that this might happen, as it often does after a sudden illness or major surgery. A couple of weeks ago, I got it cut into a short bob, in an attempt to take some of the weight out of it and generally make it less noticeable if it did fall out. The past week, however, I've noticed that it's been falling out at an increasing rate, so much so, that I find myself dreading washing or brushing it.

Now, I have no doubt that this is a very temporary thing and that it'll all grow back in due course, but - right now - it's not a great thing to have to worry about (!). I am grateful, at least, that it appears to be falling out at the same rate all over! I'll let you know if my GP recommends anything.

Update following my appointment with my GP: http://teaandjellybabies.blogspot.com/2011/07/hair-loss-part-ii.html

Stoma Nurses

I would like to dedicate this post (whatever that may count for) to all of the wonderful, encouraging stoma nurses out there, who make living with and learning about a stoma so much easier. I don't think I can emphasise enough how supportive and helpful these people are. 

A stoma nurse was the first person to change my bag, post-operation, and I remember his patient, encouraging smile and words as I helplessly looked at my stomach for the first time in horror (I had never had an operation before this and so the primary focus of this horror was the central, stitched-up wound down my tummy). He cleaned the stoma slowly, but masterfully, whilst I sleepily wondered how on earth I would manage this task myself.

A couple of days later, when I was out of high care, the same nurse helped me clean the stoma myself and watched on with the same calm, understanding patience as before, talking me through everything and giving encouraging words.

The first time I changed by bag completely by myself, I was convinced that I wasn't ready, and it was only his patient insistence that he had confidence in my bag-changing ability that meant that I tried. Sure enough, I changed it without problems and my self-confidence went up a much-needed point.

I won't deny that every time I knew that I had to change my bag, I felt like asking my stoma nurse to do it for me, whether it be because I was tired, worried that I'd do myself some crazy harm, or wanting to remove myself a little from the practicalities presented to me by my stoma. But my stoma nurse understood this and, every time, offered me just the right level of encouragement to make me think that maybe I could or should do it myself, until eventually it didn't worry me any more. I believe it took a very special person to do this without coming across as condescending or mean, and that's why I'm so immensely grateful.

Stoma care problem-solving!

Now that I'm out of hospital and changing my bag every two or three days, there are still things that I worry about. Is that red patch of skin okay? Why's that bit of my stoma bleeding? Why does the left-hand side of my bag always start to lift after a day?

My stoma nurse still saves the day with all of these issues! There are skin barrier wipes to protect any red patches. The slight bleeding is normal, don't worry. The lifting is because my stomach - like many people's, I imagine - isn't perfectly flat and so the left-hand side is under more pressure to pull away from the skin. My stoma nurse recommended I try the Clinimed Hydro Frame strips, which are extension strips of sticky stuff that give just that extra bit of support to the left-hand side and now means I can generally keep a bag on for three, rather than two, days.

Essentially, I just wanted to use this post to say a huge thank you to all of the stoma nurses out there and to make a note of what a marvellous source of support and information they are. I certainly wouldn't be where I am along the journey of recovery without them.

10 things this process has taught me (so far)

Here are ten things, in no particular order, that having my sub-total colectomy (removal of part - most - of my colon) and ileostomy have taught me (some of which I definitely should have realised already!):

1. You don't need your colon/large intestine.
2. Doctors and nurses are amazing people and both need and deserve more resources.
3. Recovery can be very tiring and requires patience (of a kind even stronger than that acquired through learning to knit).
4. Needles aren't that scary and are actually quite useful (IV pain relief!).
5. Your appendix is attached to your colon, so if you have your colon removed, you can't ever get appendicitis!
6. I love sleep. Coincidentally, I've also learned how to nap in a beneficial manner.
7. I love food.
8. Jelly babies and marshmallows thicken your ouput. Also, Bassett's Jelly Babies taste the best.
9. Don't be afraid to ask medical staff questions - it really helps to understand, as best you can, what's happening to your body and why you might feel a particular way. If it helps, write your questions/thoughts down somewhere whilst you remember so that you don't forget anything as it might be while before you see the doctor or nurse again.
10. Don't be afraid of poop. It's nothing to be embarrassed about (after all, everyone has it!) and, in my experience at least, if you work yourself up over it, it just makes things worse. Stay calm and keep going - the poop is manageable.

Seeing my surgeon, first time post-hospital-discharge

On Tuesday, I saw my surgeon for the first time since I left hospital and it was an interesting meeting. I'd been eagerly looking forward to it, mostly because I had a few questions about what had happened (I think that says something about how quickly everything took place back in April!), as well as being eager to hear the results of analysis on the portion of my colon that was removed. I may have been revealing my eagerness a little too much by turning up a good 40 minutes early for my appointment, but I simply took some knitting along with me and reminded myself that at least I wouldn't be late.

Unfortunately, my surgeon was late. An hour late, to be precise, although I couldn't find myself being frustrated with it; after all, there's nothing that could be done about it.


Diagnosis

Somewhat frustratingly, the diagnosis following analysis of my colon is that I currently have Indeterminate Colitis, which means that there are signs of both types of Inflammatory Bowel Disease: Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis. This came as something of a surprise, as most of the doctors that we spoke to in the hospital were saying UC, but then - given how much I can remember - maybe they were just saying "Colitis" and I was reading too much into it?

Interestingly, Crohn's Disease currently seems like the more likely candidate, given that the lower portion of my colon didn't appear to be affected at all (as it should be if UC is the cause). Of course, the fact that it wasn't affected in April doesn't mean that it never will be, and so the mystery continues.


Reversal

Anyway, the implications of the continued mystery are mainly focused around the options for a reversal operation. If I have Crohn's Disease, then the lower part of my colon may never become inflamed, in which case a simpler operation, merely connecting it to the end of my small intestine, could be performed. However, if I have Ulcerative Colitis, then that part is very likely to become inflamed at some point and may need to be removed, in which case it would be best to remove everything and try an internal pouch, formed from the end of my small intestine.

Of course, the longer I wait for either option, the more chance there is that there may be some sign that will decide one way or the other. I've also been told that it would be best to have any children before either reversal operation, as both are major pelvic surgery and, thus, increase the risk of complications and infertility.

In all honesty, at the moment, I'm quite happy to just wait and see. I know that some people find the thought of having the ileostomy for even more than six months difficult, but at the moment, I just want everything to go back to something vaguely resembling "normal" before I consider any more surgery.

One of my questions for my surgeon was whether or not they'd tried any other treatments before operating, as I - in all honesty - couldn't remember. It turns out that they had tried me on IV steroids for two days, but that my colon continued to dilate at a rate where they had considered the operation as the only option. A - rather cool, in my opinion - medical term for this is toxic megacolon, which I'd read about since coming out of hospital, but not known for certain if that was what I had had.

I'm sure some people would think that all of this is awfully grotesque, but, as you can probably tell, I'm actually very intrigued by all of it, partially because I'm an analyst and so have a great desire to understand the logic and causes behind everything that I can, and partially because some part of me hopes that, by understanding the science of it, it'll all start to settle in a little more.

An evening out & another near-leak

This morning, I experienced a near-leak half a step closer to disaster than my previous experience: this time, I was - again - lying half-awake, trying to sneak as many extra minutes in bed before getting up to empty my bag as possible, when I caught a whiff of something rather unpleasant. Horrified, I sat up, only to discover my bag hanging off of my stomach in a similar fashion to before, only my stoma was showing through the side where the adhesive had failed. I hopped the two metres (thank goodness!) to the bathroom, emptied, tucked a wad of toilet roll in the gap and went to find my appliance bag: time for another 6am bag change. Lovely.

It's surprised me how much this has affected me today, actually. I mean, I still haven't experienced a leak, as such, but the closeness of the situation has both put me on edge and lowered my spirits. Neither are probably helped by the fact that I didn't get back to sleep properly after the change and so I had, in total, around 4.5 hours sleep last night.

We got back late last night from a trip into London. My dear husband & I frequently attend a bar where they do a lot of gin events, and last night was my first such trip since my operation. It was great to see our London friends and get back into wider company, although I won't deny that I was quite anxious about pretty much everything (from emptying in a public bathroom stall to what to say to people as to why I've been absent for two months). It went well, though; I emptied without any problems, had no leaks and only a couple of awkward silences where people were obviously wanting to say, "How are you?" without implying that they wanted the whole story on my absence. I enjoyed myself and it was wonderful to see my husband back in another of his "natural environments", full of energy and enthusiasm and smiles.

In other good news, the alcohol that I tried on our trip gave me no ill effects, and I chose what I wanted in the pizza restaurant and, also, received no "punishment" for doing so (although I'm amused to note that spinach - even well-chewed spinach - doesn't digest completely in the small intestine, despite being a mere leaf). I made sure to drink lots of soft drinks throughout the evening, too, and - fortunately, given the impromptu bag change requirement - awoke with no hint of a headache, nor any other signs of dehydration, for which I'm very grateful.

It was wonderful to get back to normal, for those brief moments when I forgot what has happened over the past two months and just be myself. I can see why getting back into these kinds of things are good for you, even if you do have the occasional accident. Leaks will happen, but they're nothing to be ashamed of. Just keep smiling, deal with the physical implications, and remember that that operation saved your life.

Things to pack for a hospital stay

My own hospital admission was an emergency and therefore wholly unexpected, but whilst posting on the IA Support Group forum (which, by the way, is marvellous and full of wonderful, friendly and very helpful people!) today, I had a little think of what sort of things I would have wanted to pack in my overnight bag, for future reference.

• ear plugs - sleeping is tricky in hospital (sometimes through no fault of anyone, there are just lots of people around at night, some working, some sleeping, and they can make noise) and whilst I managed okay by using my mp3 player and headphones to "zone out", ear plugs would have been a big help.
• multiple nighties & dressing gowns - I was sick twice over my stuff from home and had to wrap myself up in a blanket until my husband could take it home to wash.
• comfy slippers - my feet were swollen both before and after surgery and so I had to buy new ones anyway, but some comfortable slippers are a must. 
• pretty pyjamas - as the rest of me was pretty swollen, too, and because of various tubes, I stayed in hospital gowns for a while, but it was so good to get into some pretty pyjamas instead; I even had what I called my "dress pyjamas" for when guests came to visit!
• notebook - I kept a food diary once I could scribble legibly and this was somewhere where I could note down any questions that I had for my doctors when they visited every morning.
• dry shampoo - I coped surprisingly well with dirty hair, given that I normally feel horribly grubby if I don't wash it every day, but a couple of friends bought me some of this and it was a big help, as I was able to do it by myself in my bed and it made me feel clean and relaxed.
• hairbrush & hair-ties - one of the main reasons why I was able to cope with my hair being dirty for so long was that my mum put it into plaits for me (I became known as "Dorothy" by some of the nurses!).
• various toiletries wipes - easy-to-use and quick-to-hand; lots of family & friends bought me a variety of these and they were great for when I was still finding it painful to get all the way to the bathroom to wash. 
• toothbrush & toothpaste - self-explanatory (and this was something me & my dear husband managed to remember!).
• tweezers - no-one should have seen the state of my eyebrows after 2 weeks of illness and another 2 of post-surgery recovery. Fortunately, after three of those weeks, my wonderful mother-in-law bought me some in. It's a silly thing to worry about, on the grand scale of things, but I found that it was sorting little things like this out that really improved my spirits.
• magazines - I packed my Kindle, thinking hospital would provide a great opportunity to catch up on my reading (I also hoped to knit a few jumpers, learn to crochet and do some cross-stitch), but quickly discovered that, post-surgery, I had nowhere near the required concentration or attention span to read a book. I could just about manage snippets from magazines and so was glad when my parents brought some along with them (they gave me a break from ileostomy leaflets!).
• enough money to buy a television card... - given my lack of concentration, I was so grateful for daytime television! Even when I wasn't allowed to eat and all there seemed to be on were cookery programmes, it was something to pass the time. There were also some times where I had found it difficult to talk and so, rather than force my poor husband to carry the conversation for multiple hours, we would sit and watch the television together (with subtitles) and make little comments, like we do at home. It made me feel so much better! 
• phone charger - self-explanatory. I could use my phone on the ward and did so, a lot. I emailed, texted, and occasionally called friends and family, who helped me feel more like myself.
• a blanket - we have a few cheap, fleecy blankets at home for snuggling under in the winter and, with hindsight, I would have appreciated having one of these. The hospital bedding, whilst adequate, was heavy and decidedly non-cosy (generally being cold unless being in immediate contact with a warm part of your body for longer than five minutes). 

Tea time!

Talking of hunger pangs... stomach says it's time for elevenses! :)

Fighting grouchiness

This morning I am fighting grouchiness, as I was awoken just before 6am by a bag ballooned with gas. I fidgeted for a few minutes, hoping that this might - somehow - settle things, before deciding that I would just have to get up and empty it. I was lucky that I did: when I got to the bathroom, this is what I found:

That is a picture of yesterday's bag seriously coming away from my stomach. I have to admit, I was impressed that my bag didn't leak, despite 95% of the adhesive on the left-hand side having completely failed. It was actually pretty snug by the stoma itself, I just seem to be having a bit of trouble with the adhesive on the outer edge of the left-hand side. I guess this is probably due to sweat or something? The bag doesn't seem to have stuck well there for about a week now; I'll have to speak to my stoma nurse about it.

Hunger pangs

Anyway, I changed my bag (slowly and very sleepily) and got into bed, only to find that my stomach had woken up and was - quietly at first - demanding food. In addition to the alterations in my sleeping pattern, my post-operation hunger pangs have to be another thing that I find rather strange.

My stomach has always known, and had no qualms about telling me and the rest of the room, when it feels it is meal-time (I once had to excuse myself with a very red face from a tutorial at university, because my stomach was threatening to dominate the discussion); however, none of these pangs have ever been painful. Now, they are. This is probably just because I'm recovering from major bowel surgery (and slight malnutrition), but I'm finding it difficult to appreciate the manner in which my body keeps demanding that I do things (like wake up, when I want to lie in, or that I eat when I feel like my last main meal was ten minutes ago!).

Every time I think things along these lines, I think I should shut up and be incredibly grateful that I didn't have to live with severe symptoms of ulcertive colitis for longer than two weeks prior to my operation, and that tends to calm me down, but all of this is still so alien... So is my feeling grouchy so often. I've found myself apologising to family (especially my dear husband) for unreasonable grouchiness or snappiness more regularly than ever before, and that shocks me, too, because I've never had too much of a temper to ever worry about controlling (!). So many new things to learn! The doctors never told me that one of those things would be how to fight grouchiness!

Struggles with sleep

I apologise for jumping around a little bit (from my operation to the present day, some six weeks afterwards), but I really don't feel like I have enough energy today to write the second half of my hospital experience. The reason for this is sleep, or rather, a lack of it.

Now, I am extremely grateful that, due to the skill of my surgeons and a lot of luck, my wounds have now fully healed on the outside and my pain is now restricted to when my curiosity overrules me and I prod my scar, or when I sneeze or cough. As a result, I'm able to sleep relatively well, even on my side, with suitable support from some cushions, but some nights, things just don't go right, for one reason or another, and I feel it a lot more at the  moment as I'm generally so tired anyway.

Last night was one of those nights. I half-woke up a couple of times, feeling feverish and sticky, but was so exhausted, I just tried to roll over and find a cooler section of the mattress. Having never previously had much trouble with sleeping, I have to admit that I've found this to be something that I've struggled with since my initial illness last month, and something that I hadn't considered being affected in the long-term. Hopefully, as with most things, this will settle down as things heal and I get used to my stoma, but so far here are the variety of issues currently affecting my slumber:

• going hot/cold;
• pain (recently, only due to blockages or indigestion, thankfully);
• pressure on my stoma/needing to empty my bag;
• needing to urinate (due to increased water intake); and
• being uncomfortable sleeping on my back (or, generally, not being able to easily roll onto my stomach, which I regularly did before my surgery).

I tell you something, though: at least I don't have a tube down my nose or out of my stoma bag (and taped to my leg) any more! I'm sleeping so much better at home than in the hospital ward, I really shouldn't grumble at all!

Whilst waiting to drive...

Today, I finally mustered enough energy and enthusiasm (only six weeks after my operation!) to delve within my collection of driving-related paperwork and find my insurance documentation and telephone them to make them aware - as my nurse suggested - of the fact that I had major bowel surgery.

My "mustering" of enthusiasm took six weeks, because I have a general dread of calling up car insurance companies, having experienced many previous phone calls where I rang with a clear question and found myself putting down the receiver at the end of the conversation with only a vague answer and the bitter realisation that I hadn't been persistent enough in my questioning and therefore would have to call again for clarification.

Despite this dread, it appears I haven't learned my lesson and, sure enough, today I had to call twice. When I was discharged from hospital, the nurse who finalised my paperwork said that most people wait 6-8 weeks before driving and that I should contact my insurance company, just in case they have any special rules or waiting periods. In addition, I should only drive again when I can manage an emergency stop in my car without any trouble or pain.

The first person I spoke to seemed a little off-guard at my question and told me that I should be phoning the DVLA rather than them, as they are people who set the restrictions. They also said that the company couldn't accept my or even my doctor's opinion on my readiness to drive, only the DVLA's.

Half a minute after I put the phone down, I realised I should have questioned further. Instead, I did a Google and found this useful snippet of information hidden within the 'At a glance guide to the current medical standards of fitness to drive':

Driving after surgery
Drivers do not need to notify DVLA unless the medical conditions likely to affect safe driving persist for longer than 3 months after the date of surgery (but please see Neurological and Cardiovascular Disorders Sections for exceptions). 

Therefore, licence holders wishing to drive after surgery should establish with their own doctors when it is safe to do so. 

Any decision regarding returning to driving must take into account several issues. These include recovery from the surgical procedure, recovery from anaesthesia the, distracting effect of pain, impairment due to analgesia (sedation and cognitive impairment), as well as any physical restrictions due to the surgery, underlying condition, or other co-morbid conditions. 

It is the responsibility of the driver to ensure that he/she is in control of the vehicle at all times and to be able to demonstrate that is so, if stopped by the police. Drivers should check their insurance policy before returning to drive after surgery.

So I called my insurance company again, armed with this information. The second gentleman that I spoke to acknowledged this and said that that was all fine and that there weren't any special rules set by them - if the DVLA haven't stopped me from driving, then they're satisfied that I'm safe to drive. I also specifically asked, "Does my surgery affect my policy?", to which he said it didn't. Well, I'm happy enough with that. I might not be driving for another couple of weeks (mainly due to tiredness and a lack of concentration now, more than any pain), but it's good to have finally checked the box against the "Inform car insurance" item on my to-do list!

Getting a stoma, part I

So how did all of this start? If the question was why did all of this start, I honestly don't know yet. The diagnosis made by the doctors in hospital was ulcerative colitis, which is a type of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) and causes ulcers to form in the large intestine (colon) and rectum. This results in inflammation and, therefore, pain and diarrhea. There are various other symptoms, but as I'm not an expert (certainly not yet), if you want to read more, I'd suggest reading the NHS Choices page.

Most people with IBD (of which Crohn's Disease is another type), from what I've read so far, tend to experience a range of severity of symptoms in bouts or "flare ups". These can be managed with medication and adaptations to diet and the disease can go into remission. Surgery to remove the diseased colon (or ileum/small intestine, depending on where the inflammation is) is usually considered only in emergencies or if the disease is causing lots of problems.

My body, however, decided not to do things by halves (as amusingly put by a friend in a get well soon card!), and instead launched one huge flare up with no warning. Two months ago, I started feeling feverish, before starting to suffer from bad diarrhea, vomiting, and pain in my abdomen. This continued for a week, during which I ate hardly anything.

My doctor, thinking it was a stomach infection, gave me antibiotics and suggested that I attempt to starve it, so I continued not eating for another few days, during which my pain worsened to the point where I was forced to sleep upright in a chair, because I was finding it difficult to lie down and get up again in the time required to make it to the bathroom. I was weak, tired, and in pain, and so when my stomach and legs began to swell up, I asked the doctor to make a home visit. He hospitalised me that day, and I remember being glad that I would be going somewhere where they could, at least, give me more powerful painkillers, sleeping medication and food through a drip. A few days, and hopefully I would be out and about again and eating. Oh, eating! I missed eating almost as much as I missed sleeping longer than two hours straight.

When I got to the hospital, they immediately put me into a side room, as I had unexplained (and bad) diarrhea. I was also put onto an IV drip, which was a new experience for me (I'd never been into a hospital for anything more intrusive than a blood test or x-ray), and - now that I think about it - I can't even remember when they put that in. My main memories from the first couple of days were going to the bathroom, trying to convince the CT scan doctor that I wasn't pregnant (because the ward nurse had misplaced my urine sample and therefore not done a pregnancy test), and having to change out of my own clothes because I was so swollen that they didn't fit.

Two days later, following multiple x-rays, my CT scan, and many blood tests, a doctor came to see me to say that they thought I had IBD and that they were concerned that my colon might perforate (or tear), so they wanted to operate and remove it.

My first thought was: "Hang on, don't I need my colon?", but I kept my mouth closed and the doctor proceeded to explain that they would form a stoma from the end of my small intestine and I would have to wear a pouch or bag over it.

My second thought was: "Are there any other options?", but, again, the doctor answered before I could speak and said that they were recommending this as emergency surgery, to take place as soon as possible, because otherwise I might die.

I was in mild shock at this point. At no point in the previous two weeks had I considered the possibility that what was happening to me was anything that antibiotics and rest couldn't fix, let alone that I would need surgery, that my body would noticeably change, or that my life would be in danger. I cried a little bit, hugged my wonderful husband, and took some deep breaths. I was going to have an ileostomy.

An Introduction

Welcome to 'Tea & Jelly Babies'! I apologise for the slightly cryptic blog title, but I'm not especially good at coming up with them and really wanted to get straight onto actual post content. There is, however, some logic to it:

• tea, because that is my favourite drink and has been for years; and 
• jelly babies, because they have, relatively recently, become my snack of choice.

I never used to eat jelly babies, but on 11th April 2011, I had emergency surgery to remove my colon, or large intestine, and now have an ileostomy, which is where they take the end of your small intestine and sew it through a hole a few inches from your belly button. The small piece of intestine that is outside of the body is like a little, red, moist "nobble" and is called a stoma. Bodily waste (or stool, or poo, or poop, or whatever you want to call it; I frequently find myself using the oddly impersonal term "output"!) then comes out of the stoma, to be captured in a bag or pouch that is stuck over the top.

As the colon is where a lot of water is removed from your output, I have been coming to terms with, amongst many other things, having very watery output. Jelly babies are one of the many foods recommended to people with ileostomies to help thicken things up, along with marshmallows, mashed potato, apple sauce, bananas, and smooth peanut butter. I'm a fan of all of these except peanut butter, but jelly babies are my favourite.

And hence, we have "Tea & Jelly Babies".

I hope, within the posts of this blog, to chronicle my thoughts and feelings as I continue to recovery from my surgery and learn to live in harmony with my stoma. So much has already happened so far, but I didn't have much concentration and so didn't think of keeping an electronic diary; instead, I have some scribbles in a notebook that I may attempt to write up in the hope that they are useful to someone (!).