The two months I spent in the hospital was the easiest period of my recovery. People told me I was a wonderful patient. I was always smiling and doing thumbs up while cracking a few jokes. Nurses would tell me how surprised they were of my resilience when facing bad news after bad news, week after week. They kept repeating that accepting the pouch was a difficult ordeal filled with ups and downs. Yet I was at peace with my decision, and I accepted my fate.

After leaving the hospital I realised I was now walking on a bumpy road. When wearing a hospital gown you feel so vulnerable, and it’s only natural when you’re surrounded by sick people. But when you’re back home, life needs to return to normal. You feel like picking up where you left off, even though you know it will never be the same.

When walking down this bumpy road, I had to mourn for many things. I had to say goodbye to my colon, my belly’s nice look, and my ability to fart or defecate from a natural orifice. I experienced a lot of sadness and anger back then. I was so mad at life… I hated it. I probably cried all the tears I had, and I threw multiple insults at life. Then I had to go through the last stage of mourning: acceptance. I had to accept my stoma, my pouch, my scars and the fact that I was now a different person.

I wanted to hide my pouch at all costs. I became best friends with high waist pants and ostomy underwear. They made me confident enough to dress like other girls my age. Also, while I was recovering I oddly started talking to my stoma. For example, I would tell it to shut up when it was making too much noise. I even gave it a name. Tomie the stoma would be my companion for life after all! Then I started looking at strangers’ stomachs when I was in public. I was looking for a bump or a deformity, only to try and convince myself that I wasn’t alone. I stopped doing it when I found out about the ostomate community on the internet (mostly on Instagram). There are enough people on there to make me realize that indeed, I wasn’t alone. Participating in the community greatly helped with my self-acceptance. People are there to read, support and cheer you on. Sharing pictures of my pouch and me really helped me increase my self-esteem!

While I was walking down that road, I noticed that « first times » are really scary. First boyfriend, first sexual intercourse, first job, first school year, first summer, first trip to the beach or the pool, first travel, first accident in public, and more! These can be seen as obstacles on the bumpy road of self-acceptance. We all react differently to those. As for me, all the guys I’ve dated since the surgery have accepted me as I am. My first sexual intercourses were awkward, and happened in the dark. My stools leaked under my ostomy pouching system on my first day of CEGEP. I showed my belly for the first time in Cuba, a year and a half after my surgery. I was scared during all of those first times, but ultimately, it was worth it!

Know that whatever you’re going through, it’s natural to face difficulties. If the road ever seems too difficult, and if you feel like you’re in a dead end, don’t hesitate to get help. Walking down this road is not something that can be done alone. My family, my friends and my boyfriend at that time were all supporting me. I was taking it one day at a time. One step at a time.

I’m still walking this road today. Sometimes, it’s bumpy and full of obstacles, and other times, it’s peaceful and beautiful. I think that’s what makes life beautiful.

Laurie-Anne

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