Where on earth do I even begin. The begging I suppose.
Right, well about 2 months ago I walked into St. Barts hospital, up to the first floor and instead of turning right as I normally do into the medical outpatients wing I turned left into surgical outpatients. I was due to see a surgeon for the first time to discuss ” the possibility of surgical options” which is a nice way of saying we definitely need to chop you up a little bit but don’t want to scare seven shades of shit out of you. I checked myself in and took a seat. To be honest, I can’t even remember what was going through my head, I think on a subconscious level my brain was stopping me from thinking about it. I don’t remember walking into the consulting room just vaguely bits of the conversation, I don’t know if that just because of my abysmal memory or because I had so much going through my head at the time.
To cut to the chase, and my god are these people blunt about what has to be done, they want to take all of my large intestine out, leaving me with a bag for life, and I’m not referring to those big orange fuckers from Sainsburys.
Yes sports fans, I am due to have an epic bit of shit surgery, but on the bright side it will be keeping me alive for the forseeable future and if I can get my head round it, it will only improve my day-to-day quality of life. They want to do it as I have a 20cm stricture in my large intestine and a shed load of active disease aswell. So they figure fuck it, lets get rid of it all and be done with it.
I’ll sum up the last few years with the main points of the story. Now I have been in a pretty sad state of affairs for the last 4 or so years. I was first properly diagnosed with Crohn’s disease in my second year of University and eventually in my 3rd year it had become so bad that I was hospitalised for a short stint, although it seemed like years. see below.
So during my stay I was fitted with one of the above bad boys, a naso-gastric feeding tube, aka a long yellow straw that goes up your nose, down your throat into your stomach and feeds you with this ideal diet which helped to pack weight on me. This was because at 6′ 2″ and weighing under 8 and a half stone I was massively underweight.
Since then I have been on various drugs, some which work, some which don’t. Currently I inject myself once a week with Humira, a drug, which to be fair, has worked wonders for me although it does have some pretty shitty side effects that I have somehow, so far, managed to avoid. Also I’m on Azathioprene, another immunosuppressant, and clomipramine, which is for my fantastic anxiety attacks I get due to constantly having to worry where the nearest fucking toilet is every second of every day.
Now since being diagnosed, I just about managed to graduate university in Industrial Design with a 2:2. I’ve only managed to do one full-time job, and even then I struggled. I cannot tell you how much I hate not being able to go out and work a full-time job and earn a half decent wage. At the moment, I have been properly signed off work until after this operation.
I go and see my surgeon in just under 2 weeks, where they will discuss the procedure with me in-depth and put me on the list for surgery which unfortunately does mean another 3 to 4 week wait till it actually gets done.
I’m now at the point in my head where I just want it over and done with. Its going to be a shit procedure with bullshit things like having to have catheters and drains hanging out of me when I wake up and then 2 months of recovery at home, but if and when I come out the other side of it my life should change dramatically for the better. I’m so fed up of spending what feels like half my life in various toilets and having my life dictated to me by some shit fucking disease whereby I can’t go out and work, I worry anytime I leave my house and only feel comfortable enough to venture to a handful of places.
However, hopefully soon all of that should change =D