Life with a Ostomy

Accepting the Hospital

One night in bed I insisted on being left alone I had an out of body experience and realized that I was going to die. I was in bed yet my spirit had sunk below the bed through the floor of the house and was looking up towards my body. The realization of death took over and I decided that I was not going to let this disease take my life. A flush of energy took over my body and even though I was still sick I knew I was going to be ok.

Booking into an alternative bowel treatment center, I tried many treatments. That clinic was just learning about oxygen therapy, which I did along with colonics, wheat grass juice and many other treatments. Having never taken any steroids or medication for my crohns I had done these kinds of treatment off and on for years. This time it was different, no response and I was deteriorating.

It was time for something drastic. Being still scared about the thought of surgery realistically this was the only option left. I had lost all control over my bowels and vomited anything by mouth.

Being in Toronto, Mount Sinai hospital was the best for bowel problems. At 82lbs, having lost most of my vision due to dehydration, not being able to stand I consented to going to the hospital. When we got there my hemoglobin was so low from bleeding that they could not understand why I had not died. The oxygen therapy and my decision of not dieing earlier was what was keeping me alive.

Once in the hospital, on some steroids, and TPN, my mind started to come back. Becoming aware of my surrounding again it was quite an experience for me to. Having only been in a hospital once or twice in my life for a quick visit, I was in shock. Mount Sinai hospital has a whole wing dedicated to bowel surgery, the biggest in Canada. The saddest place I had ever been.

Most hospital stays for people are a few days maybe a week, well not here, a few months maybe a year, and the average age was under 30. Most of you with an Ostomy know what I am talking about. The despair that one gets when they are admitted to hospital with no idea of when they will be able to go home, and it looks like it will be months. I was defiantly not staying; I would be out of here next week.

Well the weeks turned into months, and I did not get to go home but at least I was being transferred to a hospital closer to my family.

Love Love Sheri