Mittwoch, 16. März 2016

That creepy story

Monday I had pain and yesterday there was a wound and today I got some care. It was all ok. The sutures that should have dissolved didn't and were expressing their need to be removed.

I visited my local stoma counselor and as they are all psychic there, she told me that though she was removing my stitches, I should know that I have NO chance of this causing my stoma to slip back into my body. I dunno how they do it without a crystal ball or some magic cards or anything. They just know my brain. And my brain is always expecting the zebra at a horse ranch. When taking hormone shots for IVF, my mind went straight to extreme ovarian over stimulation. And since  February 4th, I have had reoccuring nightmares that my intestine gets sucked back into my abdomen. Even though the more common issue is it herniating further out of the abdomen.

If you're not grossed out yet, I shall tell you that creepy story. The one that I try never to tell to any hypochondriac: Back when I was in Floating hospital in Boston, I was allowed to have a roomate again after I had my lower intestine removed. (If you've got to be in hospital with Crohn's, it's pretty great that they typically give you your own room because of Cdif risk.) The chick who moved into my room had a story. She was 17 and seemed way cooler than me and had arrived at the hospital in a chopper after breaking her ankle in South America. They'd set the ankle and sent her home, but it was all inflamed and they had to operate and reset it back in Boston. Her mom was super attentive in the way that a mother would naturally be after allowing her minor daughter to go to South America without her and return broken.
While attending to her daughter, my roommate's mother was rubbing some cream on her daughter's knees for her. It was a lovely smelling cream and was meant to help her daughter relax and gave the whole stinky hospital room a lovely lavender scent. Her mom asked her "What's this? Does it hurt or itch?" and her daughter and I both got curious. The mom showed the lump that she was talking about and palpated it gently and gasped "oh, it's moving!"
THAT'S RIGHT! AND THERE WERE MORE BUMPS!
My roommate got her own private room once they'd opened her back up and removed the things that had hatched inside my roommate's wound from her break in South America.

This story gives me perspective. I can remind myself that I'm dealing with a horse problem. But it also gives me the peace of knowing that there are Zebras out there. 

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