Let's Take a Look

Eventually, after marriage, Geoff would get to experience the yearly ileoscopy.  This would be where my gastroenterologist would take a look at my small intestines and make sure there were no signs of Crohn's Disease making its return and that all looked healthy.

Lucky for him (and luckier for me), Geoff didn't have to endure my experience with the prep needed for colonscopies to clean out the intestines.  I don't have to do this with an ileostomy.  If anyone has had to be prepped for a colonoscopy, or had diarrhea due to a stomach virus, imagine that experience with a bag attached to you.

Now I've had to deal with diarrhea and my ileostomy because unfortunately the stomach virus still finds its way in my body.  It would seem great that one wouldn't have to run to the bathroom with those sudden and emergent urges.  But the problem is emptying a bag full of liquid.  It doesn't even have to be full.  Any liquid output can be hard to aim into the toilet without a mess.  The bag has to be emptied often.  Sleep is at a minimum with this issue.  It fills up so fast and sleeping doesn't slow the output down.

The worst part of the ileoscopy (besides being a mess after the procedure due to output) is the bloating.  They blow air into the intestines to widen them to make them more visible.  The air doesn't absorb into the intestinal walls.  It's got to come back out.  For the next few hours after the procedure, I have to deal with a bloated ileostomy bag (the bag balloons) and the discomfort that being bloated affords.  (This is still better than a colonoscopy prep.)

Anyway, back to the ileoscopy: the more entertaining and challenging part for Geoff would be after the test is complete.  The first few scopes, I had after having an ileostomy, I would be sedated.  So Geoff would come back to the recovery room to a groggy, slightly incoherent Megan.  Who knows (except for him) what I said.  I'd ask this once I awake enough to think.  He never admitted to anything.  He probably has videos stashed away to use in case he needs to pay me back for something someday.

I wouldn't be under anesthesia long because the test itself is maybe ten minutes long.  I know this because I no longer get sedated for the procedure.  This wasn't an issue the first couple of times.  My gastroenterologist even suggested it.  And for me, it’s barely noticeable that he's in there with this long, skinny, flexible tube looking at the inside for my small intestines.  It's even neat for me to be able to see what's going on.  And I like not having the 'hangover" when the procedure is finished.  It allows us to be able to leave the hospital quicker.  And the procedure can be messy as I’m not allowed to eat or drink for so many hours prior to the procedure, so whatever output there is becomes liquid, and inevitably there is a mess around my wafer once the procedure is complete  The more awake I am, the easier it is to get cleaned up.

However, the lack of anesthesia was an issue for one person at my last ileoscopy: the anesthesiologist.  My gastroenterologist had already confirmed and okayed that I didn't want anesthesia (like I said, it was his idea to begin with).  But the anesthesiologist didn't like that I refused the anesthesia for the procedure.  He wanted quick access in case of a need to administer a medication in an emergency.  I get that.  I said if he wanted an IV access point, go ahead and put one in.  But I do not want to be sedated.  My doctor and myself had already discussed it.  He was perturbed I could tell.  As if I couldn't hear him a few feet away, he was discussing with the other staff the situation.  And then he commented as they wheeled me out that I got what I wanted using that tone of voice that makes one feel 2 inches tall.  Real good bedside manner huh?  The nurses and my doctor made sure to let me know that my decision was fine.

Geoff's experience after this ileoscopy: he saw his wife's anger directed not at him for once.  Haha!

How I Met Your Ostomy

Well, so this is Geoff, the husband. Megan asked me to follow up last week's post by giving my point of view of my introduction to her ostomy.

To be honest, I don't remember much from that moment. That, of course, doesn't surprise me as I can't even remember what I ate for lunch yesterday! But I do remember that we were at my apartment in Ashland City, TN, and we had probably just gotten back from going out to eat somewhere. She pulled out an extra set of equipment to try and show how things connected together for the process as a whole.  I probably got a little queasy as I seem to do any time she talks about it with others, but I didn't get too bad that time.

It seems weird that I don't remember a whole lot from this time where she told me all about her ostomy, but isn't that kind of the point? One of the main reasons I encouraged Megan to write this blog was to show people who may be just getting started with an ostomy bag that life can be relatively normal. So the fact that I don't remember a lot from this sharing is also a testament to how it has just been a normal part of our relationship.

In regard to our first date, the story she told last week is completely true! As she mentioned, having been on eHarmony, I had been on a few other "first dates". This one obviously had a very different feel, and I know the manager at Longhorn Steakhouse only referenced her smile, but I know that I wasn't frowning either!

Our second date was quite the story as well... We decided to go see a movie! Well, being Labor Day, there wasn't a wide selection of movies out and available. So we ended up seeing the movie "Gamer" with Gerard Butler. It was quite possibly one of the worst movies I've ever paid to see! My apologies if you liked this movie, but only 28% of people on Rotten Tomatoes did, so I guess most people agree with us! I remember thinking the entire movie, "This is terrible and inappropriate. We really should leave. But would she think of me less that I can't handle scenes like this? Maybe she likes it?? (Which of course, she didn't either!)" But it was afterwards that Megan and I officially started dating, and of course, the rest is history!

One last point I'd like to mention while I have the floor is the blessing it has been to have her. Besides of course the obvious years of marriage, son, and memories. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis. It clearly is not at the extreme of Megan's Crohn's, but it requires me to take medicine everyday for it. Having Megan around made the process so much easier as she knew how the different procedures would go! Without her guidance, I have no idea how I would have made it through the diagnosis, and very well could have not even brought it to the attention of a doctor in the first place! I hope that this blog of hers can help someone else who is staring at procedures like the ones Megan has had, but that she can guide and share the expectations through the process for someone else.

Love & An Ostomy

I have to share the story of my husband and myself met.  For one reason, it's too special not to share.  And for another reason, he wasn't just getting me in the relationship.  He was getting my health baggage, too.  And I would have to tell him about it and explain that and hope that he would not run away.

 As has been mentioned in previous posts, I was depressed and lonely.  I had been looking for "the one" since I was 13 or 14 years old.  At this point I was 23.  My siblings were married and out on their own.  And one had a child.  I guess I probably felt left behind.  With my health issues, I wasn't up to dating much, but I was always looking for that one guy that would make my life complete. 

Where I was at the time didn't lead to the meeting of many people anywhere close to my age.  And I didn't go out much in general due to not feeling well with Crohn's.  Plus, I'm just a homebody.  I got the suggestion from my mom to try eHarmony.  I was floored that she would suggest because it was such an out-of-the-box idea that I never expected to come from anyone in my family.  But I went with it.  The site asked many questions to get the best idea of the interests and desires of the client and to be able to match them with a potential suitor.  After filling out the necessary information, I was given a list of male matches that can be contacted if the client finds them of interest.  I sent out a few messages, but the only one that contacted me back was my now husband.

We communicated through the eHarmony site briefly and realized we had both were on Facebook, so we switched over to that as our sole source of communication for a while.  Of course, we would need to meet sooner or later if this relationship was going to go anywhere.  But this was where I was most nervous, and not only because we would be meeting for the first time, but because I was meeting someone I'd only spoken to on the internet.  Now I have seen enough movies, TV shows, and news reports to know that people can be on the screen may not be the person who is communicating with you. 

With this realization, Geoff suggested we meet in a public place and in our case, that was the food court of a mall.  I'm sure I got the approval of my family before the outing.  And thankfully, he looked like his profile picture. 

We decided to eat at Longhorn Steakhouse, and the story to follow has provided us with a yearly tradition to celebrate.  As we walk into the restaurant, the manager is standing there.  Apparently, I had a large grin on my face because he asks Geoff if he just proposed.  We told him that we'd just met.  He takes us to our table, we order and eat, and the manager cimes back to our table with balloons and their Chocolate Stampede dessert.  He apologizes for embarrassing us (although we were more humored than embarrassed) and says our ticket is taken care of.  We like to think we have
a great first date story.  Every year we go to Longhorn around the time of our first date and always order the Chocolate Stampede.  (This year, we happened to get the dessert for free.)

A few weeks into or relationship, I realized I would need to be upfront about my health issues.  It seemed unfair not to share issues that would be a part of his life if things grew more serious.  I'm not good at explaining things verbally.  I need visual aids.  But I didn't want to shine my ostomy bag to this guy I had known for just a short time.  However, I always have my spare ostomy bag, wafer, and accessories with me just in case I need to make an emergency appliance change.  I used that to give him a more visual idea of what I was trying to explain.  I don't know how much he understood, but he didn't run away in disgust or fear. 

On one date, in the beginning of our relationship, I had to use the spare ostomy appliance.  We were going to a football game with some of his friends and went to eat first.  The ostomy bag I had on sprung a leak.  I was trying to subtly get his attention to let him know this and find out where the restrooms were.  He just kept saying hold on because he wasn't understanding what I was trying to say.  I learned then I would have to be more blunt.  (This is still the case.)  Once he figured out what I was needing, he was apologetic, and helped me the best he could.  That was the first time I'd had to change my ostomy appliance outside of home or work.  And this was the first time I'd met his friends.  I'm not sure they were aware of the situation but I almost wish they were.  It was embarrassing because it seemed like I was in the restroom a long time.  And it was a single occupancy restroom.  People were waiting on me.  And I had leaked enough to get my shirt dirty.  I was thankful to have worn a long sleeve shirt under a short sleeve one.  I could just take off the dirty one and be good to go.  As embarrassing and gross as that was to me, he still stuck around. 

He was there when I had surgery to remove the rectal muscles.  He despises hospitals.  But he tried to be there the whole time I had to stay there.  We continued to date.  And seven months after our first date, he proposed.  Six months after that, we were married.

There's Always a Rainbow

I wish I could say that after my nephew was born, after I had my epiphany that his existence was enough reason to keep pushing through each trial that I faced, that the clouds just rolled away and that out came the sun and a rainbow of beautiful colors.  But it wasn't...

People don't get into debt overnight, and it takes a while to pay off that debt depending on how much is accumulated, the income available, and the intensity in which you go attack the debt.  When people realize they've gained too much weight, it wasn't like they went to bed slim and woke up the next morning overweight.  The weight gain took time, and possibly bad choices were made.  Losing the weight will take time, sweat, and determination.  (This one I know from experience.)

Getting out of my depressed state would take me facing intense moments of opening of myself up and becoming vulnerable and having a determination to keep doing this until it became a habit of purpose.  Only then would my dark clouds start rolling away and my burdens become lighter.

This is where I had to go to counseling.  Even though my parents have great ears to listen with, they couldn't help me through my depression any more than they could cure me from Crohn's Disease.  But they could help me find the source who could walk me through my struggles.  If nothing else, speaking to an unbiased, unattached personally individual was a great avenue to relieve my inner thoughts that I had a tendency to carry inside for too long.  I was a a hoarder of my worries.  And hoarding isn't healthy in any circumstance.  My counselor had me keep a notebook of what was going through my head, and we would go over it at each session.  It provided a way to dig through the thoughts I had that I wouldn't remember to (or maybe want to) speak about at my appointment.  And it also helped to relieve those thoughts that would build up.

I also quit my job and tried a different area of nursing.  However, the anxiety I felt everyday remained.  I lacked so much self-confidence.  And eventually, I had to walk away from nursing altogether, an occupation that I was sure at one time was my life's calling.  The experience I had of my call to nursing and the one I was currently facing with depression were so conflicting and very much confusing.  And certainly didn't help the depression.

At this time, I had also started dating the man I am married to today.  Having him in my life was helpful to me as it was when my nephew was born.  He gave me yet another reason to push forward through my depression journey.  And of course, being in love gave my mind other areas to focus on than just on myself and my troubles.

He got me back into church.  I didn't completely walk away from church.  My relationship with God had been barely existent.  Here was a guy that took his walk with God, his church attendance, and his involvement in church very seriously.  His knowledge of the Bible amazed me as it still does.  I saw how important it was to be a part of the church and how much it meant to him, and it made me want that as well.  He was able to use the fire from his light to rekindle the fire that was dim from my own candle.

It didn't take us long to realize that we were meant to be together.  We had some struggles with lack of jobs while we were engaged.  And as much of a worrier as I am, I don't remember this being as much of a worry for me.  I know that sounds crazy.  Maybe I was too in love to think otherwise.  Maybe I was still too absorbed with my depressed state to notice something that today would probably throw me into a tailspin of worries.  But regardless, the Lord had our lives in His hands and provided each of us with new jobs.

With these changes, He also pulled me out of my depression.  What seemed like a scary time, getting married and being jobless, turned into a test of patience and faith.  Deep down, I had faith.  I like to think that God had to allow me to go through the illness with Crohn's Disease, the ileostomy surgery, the depression, and the unemployment to show me (and others) that He was the One in charge.  That He wouldn't leave me.  And that He truly doesn't give you more than you can handle.  There's always a rainbow...

Great Things Come in Small Packages

It took me a while to realize that God wanted a relationship with me and that a relationship takes two active members to work.  And due to my holding back, my dark days lingered.

My oldest nephew (who is almost nine years old now) was born during this time in my life.  His arrival into my bleak world helped to push away some of the darkness because I had something else to focus on.  Here was a baby who knew no wrong and was perfect in every way to a first time aunt.

However, even with so much joy that he brought, those storm clouds still came, and with a vengeance it seemed.  It's not that I was suicidal.  I really didn't want to die.  I just didn't want to live with every day being showered with such great emotional pain either.  Of course, I didn't want to go back to the days of living with the physical pain of Crohn's Disease either.  But in some ways, this depression I was in was so much worse than that part of my life.  It's even more of an invisible illness than Crohn's Disease is.  With Crohn's, my doctor was able to run a scope of my intestines and see the actual disease inside.  But with emotional pain, on the outside, I looked okay, but inside, I was in absolute turmoil.  And there were no scopes to run to find that out.  It's a matter of the victim describing to someone what they are feeling.


Somehow, as always seems to be the case, my mom figures out something is not quite right with her daughter.  I can't recollect what brought about a conversation over the topic of my emotional distress, but one guess would be that I probably lost control of my emotions all together.  I'm great at letting them build and collect until there is no room left to store them and so I burst into tears and incomprehensible words that would sometimes come out in anger, but I'm thinking in this case, it would have been a flood of body shaking sobs.

I remember clearly stating that I had no interest in dying.  But living was awful.  And that the one thing that held me in check at all was my nephew.  I couldn't give up because he needed me.  I had to be an example of strength for him. 

Today, I still look at him and remember those dark days and think how amazing God is.  Even when I wasn't the person He needed me to be, He had mercy and love enough to send a baby into my life, and that baby helped me recognize that we all have a purpose and can all be used for His glory.  Because, at that time, my nephew unknowingly gave me the desire to keep pressing forward.  And that great things can come in small packages. 

My Mysterious Mind

My personality is one that leans toward being uptight and anxious.  If things are going smoothly, I'm calm and satisfied.  Who isn't?  But throw a stone in my path, and I may look at it and kick it out of the way, or (most likely) I will see it and think what am I supposed to do to move this?!?  It may then grow to the size of a boulder in my mind so that I can't move it at all.  I'm afraid I may be a pessimist.

Even as a kid, when things would happen differently then I thought they would, I would be nervous about what was going to happen.  Now everything was happening as it should, but in my mind, things were going to fall apart.

Now you would think that upon getting sick and being diagnosed with a chronic illness like Crohn's Disease, that I would have fallen apart and lost my mind.  Initially, it all happened so fast, and I was so unsure of what I was dealing with, that I went with the ebb and flow of it all.  It probably wasn't until the first medication didn't work that I started to lose my sense of childhood naivety and comfort.  Then I started to become anxious with the uncertainty of my illness: 1) how long did I have after I finished a round of steroids until my symptoms return? 2) how often would the symptoms bother me in a given day? 3) would the next medication I try actually work?  Before this, the medications I had taken were for general and more common childhood illnesses where you take an antibiotic, and in a few days, the infection is gone and all is well.  This medication failure was alarming (as it wasn't what I expected).

I also became self-conscious of my physical appearance once the prednisone was back in my system
full force.  Here I am, a 14 year old girl with a face so swollen that I don't recognize myself, acne on steroids (pun intended), and extra body hair.  And then there were the heart palpitations that would come on so suddenly and be so uncomfortable.  I had a lot of unease over this as I had no control over any of it.  These were some of the unfortunate side effects of prednisone.

I don't feel like I lost my mind over this, but it obviously fed into a lot of my anxiety that I already carried inside.  I just had my focus more on my struggle with Crohn's and less on the rest of my world.

With that focus, what I may have lost was a bit of my ambition as I felt held back by my illness and its unpredictable ways.  I didn't have a clear idea of what I wanted to do for a career after high school, and then initially, I chose wrong.  It wasn't until I took time to listen to God and actually focus on this part of my life that I made an actual choice that worked for me at that point in time.  That's when I decided to go into nursing.

I had ileostomy surgery after my career in nursing had started.  After that, things were going great for my physical health.  But mentally and emotionally, I was going down.  Now, I believe this was happening before my surgery, but like I said, my focus was on battling Crohn's Disease.  I went into the nursing career knowing that's where I was supposed to go.  And yet I found myself dreading going to work.  I had great coworkers.  You couldn't ask for more supportive people to work with.  I tried to focus on the people I served daily as a nurse.  They depended on me after all.

Even as I write this, I can't pinpoint what my issue was.  I needed to work because I was an adult, and that's what is expected.  Plus, I had bills to pay (especially medical bills) and for me, health insurance was a must.  But I was so unhappy.  Miserable really.  (And I'm sure even more miserable to be around.  To those in my company, I apologize greatly!)  However, all I could see was a thick, dark storm cloud hanging all around me threatening to let loose at any moment.  In my eyes, I had no one to turn to.  Not even God.  Why would He allow me to go through so much already, bring me healing to my physical body, just to have me go through this emotional turmoil that I couldn't figure out the cause of?

Eventually, I would realize that I had to take initiative and get back in touch with God.  He needed to hear from me.  He wanted to bless my life.  I just failed to let Him in so that we could talk.  No one wants to stand at a door knocking over and over and not get an answer.

It's All So Heavy

I wrote this poem a few years ago.  It seemed like the perfect introduction to my next blog post coming up.  

It's All So Heavy

It's all so heavy. 

How do I carry

All that's weighing down my heart?

My body is tired. 

I'm uninspired

From all the things that tear my world apart. 

Lord, I don't know

Where I should go. 

All this worry has me lost in my own maze.

There was a sun, 

But for now there's none

As the clouds seem to make a foggy haze. 

My hurt is great. 

On You I wait

To bring me back into the light once more. 

And there You are. 

You're never far. 

You have never locked Your door. 

It was me 

Whose bended knee 

Never took the time to reach the ground. 

Prayer had stopped 

When I reached the top, 

And flat on my back is where I now am found. 

Here I plead 

That You'll help me; 

That You'll pick me up and dust me off again. 

Heal my hurt, 

From sin avert, 

And lead me to where I should have been.

-Megan Combs

I just want to add here that if you're reading this and going through something that feels like more than you can bear, please don't let yourself think that you're alone.  Talk to someone.  It helps.  No one has to carry a burden alone.