the struggle is real

It's pretty much a given that I will not have surgery anytime in the near future.  There's a whole lot of risk and money involved.  Therefore, my next step is to find a professional to help me manage this ostomy.  It's kinda' sorta' a specialty in nursing.  I plan to visit my GP this week and ask about that plus some kind of management for the squirts.  That is the crux of my problem.  When it works right, all is well like pudding.  If not it leads to a breakdown of the skin surrounding the ostomy.  It took HH forever to figure out how to get one that fit right but I've gained ten pounds so it might be time to re-visit that.  Most people don't like to gain weight but I was tickled to death when I topped 130.  I was so very sick for such a long time that I dropped 20 pounds. 

It is difficult to get a routine down with an ostomy like when to eat so that you don't end up with it all over the stoma in the bed.  Last night as the storms raged, I was hurting so bad down there that I prayed for a pain pill and I don't normally go that route.  I woke up twice when the electricity went off but from what I hear I was lucky it came back on both times.  

The surgeon I saw last Monday reminded me that Dr. Drew Turner saved my life.  I will never forget that. At the time he said there was a possibility of reversal after six months.  I just didn't know how risky that procedure would be.  I've been chasing that dream for a year now and as Carney says "leave well enough" alone.  My goals have changed in a big way.  I joined an online ostomy support group and plan to take baby steps to live with what is.  

Tiny little bees have taken over my porches so that I have to stay in the screened in part.  Reaves and I ventured out into the yard today and picked a few apples off of the trees dedicated to Daddy.  There is one peach, not quite soft enough, that we'll pick another time.  Country girl has to learn her heritage.  She really loved picking the low hanging fruit.

Peace be with you ^j^