Thursday 8 January 2009

Update 5

Day 79!

What can i say, the last couple of months have literally been a pain in the ass to get through but i made it.

The cumulative effect of me going going going leaned me towards consuming codeine (a codeine and paracetamol ready made cocktail of a capsule to be precise) whose welcomed side effect slowed things in the digestive and peristaltic department to a crawl resulting in giving my poor asshole a break for a few hours in between. The other side-effect which crawled over me as slow as the saga of the alien costume (see spiderman) caused my mind to fog over and for my brain to become addicted to the mild high that the 1 gram paracetamol and 60 mg of codeine blend. I would not say addicted in the crack addict do anything way, more so as a nice cup of coffee or a first cigarette of the day. Initially I honestly took it for pain relief, being that it was still only 3 weeks after surgery – the gas build up in my pouch in the morning and various tissue and strained sinews from all the nocturnal straining of the going going going the two red and white Akira style capsules really hit the bulls-eye of pain and put me in a dreamy happy state. I'd run out of codeine alone and was too apathetic to make any effort to replace the stock besides the Co-codamol side-effect (no doubt because I was taking the maximum dose) slowed things down so I could effectively get 5 hours uninterrupted sleep. You have to realise that these decisions were clearly taken in an irrational state of exhaustion.

Since take-down it has been my modus operandi to decipher the alchemical algorithm - the right combination of foods, distance between taking on fluids, the right creams, the best paper, the best side to sleep, what each new sensation meant; that creates the maximum quality of life from my new anatomical layout - all without the use of medication. Its much more complicated and sensitive to minute adjustments than I predicted. I had not realised it was going to be such an assault course (assault being largely upon my poor asshole by digestive enzymes). I had read about people that managed by diet alone, I do not let to have synthetic chemicals pumping round my body and hoped to achieve the same. I was initially in denial that I was taking the red and whites to slow things down and pressed on with experimenting with foods and juices. After about five days I just didn't give a fuck. After a week I wasn't even bothering to get dressed in the day and became a disconnected zombie just waiting for the next 6 hours to roll by so I could get that 30 minute buzz in my chest off the opioid. From going out for a walk a couple of times a day I found the cold to much of a threat and retired indoors to chaining DVDs and uncharacteristically watching as much crap TV as one human being can tolerate. Hence the lack of updates to this blog.

Still in denial that I was taking the drugs for their side-effect, I continued to take them for just that.

I couldn't really see any patterns in the behaviour of my system after a couple of weeks, my blood was saturated at a level that there was nothing to discern. Sometimes I needed to strain to evacuate my pouch, sometimes tears rolled down my cheeks at 3am and I jumped in an out of a bath every 30 minutes.

I was quite friendly for about 2 hours a day spliced in to 30 minute chunks splintered throughout the day but for the rest of the time you'd be lucky to get even a grunt out of me. This had a desperate affect on my already rung-out wife who concluded that my decent in to her interpretation of assholedom was due to something she had done or neglected to do which spiralled in to one sided complaining “I don't understand what I have done wrong” then a two-sided lackluster and ultimately anti-climatic argument caused by my exiting stage right to the TV or the toilet – on one or two occasions when I didn't actually need to go. The usual equilibrium of our relationship is polar opposite. But the comfortable numbness was very inviting and after the lot of the recent physical discomfort and mental hurdles it was nice...For a while. The balance of 'good days and bad days' tilted towards the bad until I began going backwards. I was being gung-ho with new foods during this period (ooh ketchup...oh no mango juice?). I had to roll things back to a day one diet. I had porridge for Christmas lunch.

New years day was a turning point. I dragged myself up and accompanied my wife and kids to the cinema. Another corner. I was prepared in my mind that this was the time to kick the habit and I was prepared to accept the fact that I was going to take Loperamide at least for a time to recover some normality to life and start earning some money and start digging out of this financial hole that I have kept at looming distance for as long as possible. Also my stock of capsules was running low so a trip out to the doctor was necessary.

My new GP, A young ex-military Doctor, bluffed his way through my appointment nodding and nodding, I left thinking I could have talked him in to prescribing Morphine if I had said it is part of my treatment. I left with a script for a hundred caps of Loperamide, some Paracetamol, Codeine (for when the gas pain is too bad) – he regurgitated the pain-ladder bullshit to me which I politely nodded though and when I asked for some industrial strength topical anaesthetic cream his was more than happy to write up EMLA which is the stuff they put on kids (and adults in five star anaesthetic suites where one of the staffs main axioms is patient comfort) to numb their skin before inserting a big hollow needle and canulating them. “I don't like using it for canulation” he said, “it takes too long too work”. “Well far be it for your convenience to be outweighed by a patients comfort” I said. He just continued talking, it was apparent that my opinion had no value as he looked at the clock on his screen confirming my statement entirely. I feel completely out of tune with alopathic medicine now, surgery was a necessity, emergency treatments fine but healthy living is the way i'm going to keep as far away from these people. EMLA is a pain/pleasure drug. On application the Hydrogen Peroxide burns harder than the discomfort it is treating but in 42 seconds (i've counted) you don't care.

My motivation was re-ignited when the doctor was going through my repeat items list and asking which items I also required. “Coloplast MC2000?” he said. “You can scratch those, I don't need them anymore.” Big grin on my face.

So i'm 4 days in to taking Loperamide twice a day and its effects are clear as a spring morning. Kicking the Codeine habit was headaches for a couple of days but not as a bad as coming off caffeine. The blistering pain of the internal blister (that I refuse to acknowledge may have been a haemorrhoid) has subsided and some of the lessons and habits I learned on my journey in to the heart of darkness, baths, creams, chamomile teas, upside down bodily contortions and enemas are all on standby if that bastard butt burn returns.

In the mirror my eyes communicate my new body sans bag and my brain is still somewhat perplexed, something was there, there are scars and a 17 year-old circular patch of skin that could do with a little sunshine. I occasionally stutter one of the idiosyncratic movements that only someone with a bag would know about, twitching the corners of my mouth when I correct my sub-conscious - 'we don't need to do that anymore'. Its almost difficult to think that it was there for so long but writing it down its no surprise that its not missed. I'm almost taking it for granted that I am bag-free but those baths are always going to be deeper than before. There are small changes that make a big difference. I can sleep on the other side of the bed, the house lacks an underlying odour that I only notice now its gone, there is more space in the bathroom cupboard, no clanging bathroom bin chiming a bag change every night, no kneeling at the toilet, i can fart, trousers that fit properly, the house is quieter because the washing machine is not on all the time. Its surprising how quickly these changes become the norm.

I am glad that 2008 is out of the way, the path is much clearer now and the hurdles don't look so scary.

Happy New Year!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great to read a true account of life with a pouch. I have had mine for three years (ileostomy before) and reading your blog is like a print out of my life. Its nice to hear someone else's thoughts and feelings as most of the time I am sure I if I voiced mine I would be labelled clinically insane. I too try to remind myself how nice it is not to wear my insides on the outside anymore as a sweetener to my self for all the havoc the pouch causes. Going to try your 'no sugar, less battery acid' approach as I eat loads of sugary stuff in order to stay awake, energy, look as if I am still alive etc. Keep up the good work with the great blog and good look with the rest of it!