Being Okay With Being Me

I was listening to a podcast this morning, and the speaker mentioned about how she didn't really like who she was.  She was a shy and quiet person who didn't deal well with people I guess you'd say.  She wanted to be like others: outgoing and the life of the party.  And then God spoke to her one day.  He told her she was the way she was supposed to be, and that by being that way, she was spared the introduction of things in her life that could have potentially ruined her: exposure to outside forces that have a way of changing people for the worst and taking over their lives in all areas over time.

This spoke to me.  I find myself like her.  As a child, I was painfully shy.  I wouldn't go up to anyone and start a conversation for anything unless it were my immediate family.  I was probably in high school before I'd order food for myself at a restaurant.  It's sad I know, but so so true.  Talking to people just didn't suit me.  I'd rather stay home than be in a crowd any day.

I can't say that it's not still painful sometimes, but I've had to step out of my comfort zone to be an adult and run a business.  Not talking to the client will never get a business going.  Thankfully, texting is a "thing" and it definitely works for my personality.  I can "talk" all day through words on paper and screen.  But don't try to get me to hold an all day seminar somewhere.  That would drain the life out of me before I even got started.  Plus, I still Do Not Like crowds.  My husband is a basketball coach.  This might seem selfish, but sometimes, I just can't go to the games.  I can't deal with all of the activity and lack of personal space.  He has come to understand this about me.  And he is disappointed at my absence, but he understands because he feels the same way by being a home all day long.  He has done it, but it doesn't feed him.  He likes to be out an among others.  He doesn't seem to need to talk to them necessarily.  Just being out of the house helps him keep his sanity.

My need for solidarity has kept me sheltered from things that I would have been gullible enough to get sucked in to.  Him wanting to be out with other people has always kept him too busy to get himself into trouble with the world around him.  We are who we are meant to be.

Of course, when I was going through all of the ups and downs of Crohn's, I wanted to be someone else.  I wanted to be my classmates who were healthy, who were not afraid to go out of the house, who weren't having to take medicine everyday, who didn't have their physical appearance change due to prednisone, and who could eat PIZZA!  I wanted to be my sister, my twin, who didn't have to deal with the devastation of Crohn's.  I wanted to be who I was before Crohn's attacked my intestines.   Why did I have to deal with this?

And now that I have an ostomy, there have been plenty of times I've just wanted to take the ostomy appliance off.  I've wanted my pre-ostomy body back that didn't need to have an ostomy appliance attached to me.  Then I remember that pre-ostomy, I was sick and wishing I could have my life back.  What did the ostomy surgery do for me?  Essentially, it gave me my life back.

All of this is to say, that I don't know why I am the way I am necessarily and why my life was hit with Crohn's Disease.  But there is a reason.  Right now, I'm able to share what I deal with and think about by having Crohn's and an ileostomy.  And hopefully, someone out there is reading this and thinking "Okay, someone in this world thinks like I do, and they deal with things that I've got to deal with.  I can do this, too."  We don't need to change ourselves as much as we need to embrace who we are meant to be.

"Mama's Diaper"

I've had an ileostomy now for over 11 years.  And sometimes, I don't want to think about it too much.   I don't know what people's reactions will be to it.  I'm sure there are those who think that I shouldn't have had such a surgery, and that I should have tried other options (although I don't know what those would have been at the time.)  The deal is done people.  There is no need to say what should have been done.  My large intestine can't be put back in.  Nor do I want it to be.  That thing gave me nothing but trouble: sending me to the bathroom at all hours of the day and night, being a literal pain in the rear, and affecting my overall health in ways that I believe I deal with to this day.

Also, it probably is a source of discomfort for some as there are those that don't want anything to do with medical talk.  There are those that don't have the capacity to deal with the gruesome details at any level.

My husband was like that, but I think after almost 8 years of marriage, he's starting to come around.  He didn't want to see me changing my ostomy bag for the longest time.  Then one morning recently, I woke up with a leak and time was not on our side.  He just had to let me do my thing right there with him in the room.

And then there are others who probably just don't understand what it is even as I'm trying to explain it.  I'm not sure I would have.  I had a very detailed and visible amount of information given to me.  Also, I was able to get a first hand account from an ostomate over a period of time where I felt free to ask any and all questions that I had of her experience and what I could expect.

Of course, sometimes talking about it is beneficial not only for me, but hopefully for others as well.  There are times that I don't mind going into some detail on what an ileostomy is and why I have it.  I wouldn't have had as much confidence and security in having the surgery and dealing with life with an ostomy if I hadn't had the information I was given. With this blog, it's my goal to share some of my experiences.

One such experience happened several years ago now, when my oldest nephew was closer to my own son's age (2).  Sometimes things happen to where others might learn about your ileostomy whether you want them to or not (leaks at work or maybe the pouch manages to poke out from under your clothing, for instance).  The latter incidence would be the case I'm referring to.  I'm not sure what happened exactly, possibly just stretching and my shirt raised up enough that the bag was showing.  The little guy saw it and looked sort of confused.  He'd never seen anything like that before.  Somehow, I managed to come up with a way to relate it to something he understood.  I called my bag my diaper as, at the time, he was still wearing a diaper.  That explanation seemed to satisfy him.  There were a few times after that, that he would point it out and say it was my diaper.  I wonder if he still remembers that.

My son has seen my ostomy bag as well.  He seemed to have that look of confusion the first time he recognized it.  I told him the same thing I told my nephew, that it was "my diaper".  He seemed to be content with this explanation as well.  He never mentioned it again until recently when I was getting dressed one day.  He looked at me and then at my husband and said "Mama's diaper".  It caught me off guard as, like I said, he hadn't mentioned anything about it since I had told him what it was in a way that he might could relate.

There are days that I don't want to deal with it or think about it.  But I have to.  It's here for good.  At least I can get a smile and a chuckle from the innocent recognition and understanding that a little guy can offer.