How can 4 years seem so short and so long at the same time? It seems like just yesterday I was scared and feeling horribly sick preparing for this surgery, but at the same time, I almost can’t remember what it was like beforehand. It’s been 4 years… 1461days, to be exact, that I have been living with my ileostomy.
The good news is, throughout that entire time, I have never regretted my decision. Yes, I have had times that I resented having to make the decision in the first place, or wished none of this had ever happened to me, but that’s not anything I can change. Based on where my life has brought me and the decisions I was faced with, I am so glad I made the choice that I did.
Living with an ostomy is a funny thing. Like anything else, after time you get used to it and you stop thinking about it all of the time. It’s like my phoenix tattoo I have on my forearm. 
I see this tattoo every single day. It is always right in front of me. Yet, there are many times that it will suddenly catch my attention and I will realize that I haven’t noticed it in a while. It has simply become part of the scenery of my life.
I feel the same way about my ostomy. Obviously, I have to deal with it every day, multiple times a day. It’s impossible for me to go a day without me thinking about it at all, yet I still find at times that I have “forgotten” about it for a little while. Or at least I haven’t paid any more attention to it beyond the usual daily maintenance. It, too, has slipped into the background.
Obviously it’s not like this every day. I still have times where it very loudly announces its presence in the form of a leak, or itchy skin, or a literal loud noise. But after 4 years, it’s so ingrained into me as part of my normal routine that it often takes something like that to make me pay a little extra attention.
And that is what my normal has become. I truly don’t remember what “normal” is—at least normal for the majority of the population. I don’t remember the last time I had a normal poop and I definitely will never have one again. And it’s thoughts like this that still freak me out a little bit. Never. It’s such a big word. It’s so… final.
Despite how much of a blessing my ostomy has been and how much it has changed my life for the better, I still struggle with the nevers and forevers. I wonder if I will ever get used to them. I don’t honestly know. Ask me in another 4 or 40 years and maybe I can tell you then, or perhaps I’ll still be wondering.
This is a major reason I try to simply take it a day at a time. When I think about my future, I don’t think about my ostomy. I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing. I think it’s good because I’ve never wanted it to consume my life to the point that it’s all I think about and it’s a constant, painful reminder of how my normal compares to other people’s interpretation of normal. The fact that I don’t automatically think about it when I picture the future makes me feel I am holding to that. But I also realize that when I do consciously think about having an ostomy for the rest of my life, it still hits me kind of hard. It’s almost like there’s still this small part of me hoping that one day I would no longer have it. (Trust me, though, there’s nothing left in there. It’s not going anywhere!)
Even so… while it may be difficult imagining the rest of life with an ostomy bag, I will always be thankful for it and how much it has changed my life. The past 4 years have absolutely been some of the best of my life and I am so thankful that my ostomy has allowed me to live it much more fully than I had been previously. So I guess here’s to the next 4 or 40 or 400 years with an ostomy!
