October 2017 - Hoot Deconstructed

Go Time – The Crohn’s Saga Part 78

Go time. Surgery time. I went under the knife and got my ostomy in early November 2016. Strangely, I can remember the date of my first surgery (11/2/99), but for some reason I can’t remember the exact date of this one. I think I’d been out of work and feeling lousy for so long at this point that time was pretty much meaningless.

Aside from that you get to feel better after recovery, the best part of surgery is the knockout drugs. Here’s how it goes. They wheel you into the room and move you onto the bed where it will all go down. The surgery team and anesthetist introduce themselves. If you’re like me, you’ll wish everyone luck. And then they give you the blessed drugs. You get a little something to relax first and then they pull out the big guns. Imagine you’ve been suffering and exhausted for 12 months. You just want it to end. Then, with the push of a button, your consciousness slips away like a wave receding back into the ocean and you fall into a deep sleep. Those few seconds between awake and asleep are just wonderful. For this reason, go time is relief.

As a heads up, the next few Crohn’s Saga posts are going to be rough. From where I am now, I’m grateful that I had the surgery and got the ostomy, but be aware that I had a very bad recovery. One of the biggest reasons for my writing these is to help me wrap my mind around everything that happened. I got through it, but I had a very bad time.

Gate Crowders – The Worst Person Ever

Gate crowders drive me absolutely nuts. My wife and I just got back from our honeymoon and for both of our flights, we were lucky enough to be assigned to early boarding groups. It didn’t really matter though since we also encountered this with both flights. When it comes to boarding, I’ve noticed that IQs drop and people behave more like cavemen than socially-evolved humans. For some reason, people always feel the need to form a protective barrier around the gate that prevents others from boarding. They have guaranteed seats and boarding numbers, but still they mill around like some sort of vapid cow/vulture hybrids.

There are two reasons for this:

Airlines now oppressively charge fliers. It feels like they all collaborated to cut leg room and nickel-and-dime passengers as much as possible. We all need to pay to check bags now and no one wants to do that, so everyone tries to get away with carry on. Planes were designed more for checked luggage instead of carry on, so there is limited room. This means you need to board as early as possible to avoid having to gate check your bags. It slows everything down, stresses everyone out, and turns what used to be a pleasurable activity into a competition. Thanks airlines!
Groups of people are just stupid like that. I think they nailed it in Men In Black when they observed that “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals”. Want to see society devolve? Try flying Ryan Air sometime. That airline doesn’t allow reserved seats and it doesn’t offer boarding groups. It is first come, first serve. Gate crowders get even more aggressive and fights have been known to break out. Yay people!

So, airlines, stop contributing a larger system that’s destroying the middle class. Stop screwing us over and let us be civilized.

And people, get your shit together. You’re about to go flying up in the sky. Relax, enjoy, and be civil.

Waking Up Is Hard To Do – The Crohn’s Saga Part 79

If falling asleep for surgery is heaven, then waking up from surgery is hell. Remember last time when I wrote that I had a very rough recovery? I wasn’t exaggerating. Waking up is where things started to become unpleasant.

My doctors gave me an epidural (yeah, the same as in childbirth) so that I wouldn’t feel pain in my stomach but I also wouldn’t be all drugged out. The problem was that it didn’t fully work when I first woke up. They put an ice cube on my belly and asked if I felt the cold. When I couldn’t feel the cold anymore, they’d know it was working properly. Unfortunately, mine took a bit of time to tweak. Everything hurt, I couldn’t distinguish the pain from surgery from the cold of the ice, and I was still too drugged to be coherent. Heck of a start to a new life, isn’t it?

Oh, and if you noticed the red spot in the comic, that’s the stoma. The term ostomy refers to any surgically created hole in the body through which waste can pass. The stoma refers to the protruding part. In a colostomy, part of the colon sticks out. In a urostomy, part of the ureter sticks out. I have an ileostomy, so it’s my small intestine (ileum) that protrudes. They removed my colon completely.

I’ll also note that even though I woke up with the ostomy, I wasn’t able to look at it for a few days. I hear that’s very common. I guess us ostomates just need to hold on to those last few minutes, hours, or days before everything becomes really real. Besides, there’s enough physical pain in recovering from surgery. Adding the emotional trauma of the horror of seeing your intestine sticking out of your body is something that can wait.

Psychic Connection – All Sorts

My dog and I have a psychic connection. She’s almost 6 now and she’s been in my life for 5-1/2 years. In that time, I’ve learned to read her looks, her sighs, and her woofs. Somehow, she’s learned to generally understand me too. Exchanges like this happen at least once a week and I think they’re pretty cool.

Overly Candid Medical Professionals – The Crohn’s Saga Part 80

Post-op reviews are complex.

On one hand, I was happy that my surgeon confirmed that I needed the operation. If you remember from “It Gets Real“, my insurance company had approved Stelara, but my doctors had given it a very low probability of success given how sick I was. If I’d tried Stelara, I would’ve had to have been tube fed for months to give it a chance, but in the end, I’d still probably need surgery anyway. So, I opted to skip the drug and have the surgery in order to save myself from more unnecessary suffering. However, even though there was a low probability of success for the Stelara, it was still possible that it could have worked. My surgeon’s confirmation that the operation was necessary was a godsend. It allowed me to not have to wonder about my decision for the rest of my life.

On the other hand though, I don’t ever think I’ll forget him calling my colon “icky”. I don’t hold it against him, but damn, that was very upsetting to hear. I don’t want to think about my internal organs being icky, mealy, or disintegrating. I didn’t know how to emotionally handle that description. I still don’t. Every time I feel sick now, that’s the go to image in my mind. It’s a bit messed up.

Yay Crohn’s Disease!