My Most Heart Felt Blog To Date….

I got my hospital letters through and I got really excited because they mean the dates for when I can have my xray and then after that my clinic meeting to discuss when I can have my surgery. 

Pouch xray : 28th February 
So far so good. 
Clinic meeting with surgeon : 19th April
Hold on what?
APRIL??? APRIL?!?!?!?!
I was told two weeks after my xray I’d be in clinic. Thats seven weeks right there. 
Man. I am so disappointed I could cry. Key word being could. 
I was never meant to have this for a year. When I was told in surgery it would be about 9 months I was like okay, I can do that. Its not long. But a year?!?! Okay so some of you are thinking its only a three month difference. And yeah okay it is but for me thats a whole three more months than anticipated with this stupid fucking bag.
yes I know the bag saved my life yes I know that it gives me a longer time for my pouch to settle its self. YOU try living with a stoma, cleaning it, changing its bag. YOU try living with having to find clothes that conceal it, worrying whether people can see it. basically YOU TRY LIVING WITH A SACK OF SHIT ON THE SIDE OF YOUR BODY!!!!!!


One, Two, Three. 

Okay. My apologies. Living with the stoma bag for me is no hardship, it gave me my life back. A life without medication, a life where I can eat the food I Want to eat. It just comes with some complications that’s all. Mostly emotional ones. 
People keep telling me how strong I am. Im not. Inside I am broken which is why I need these surgeries. This is all one massive learning curve, the only reason I can do this is because I am from The White Family. We deal with pretty much anything with a smile on our faces. Which is why certain people will ever see me fall apart because I cant bare the thought of people thinking I might actually need someone or something, 
But fuck I need these surgeries. I need to get out of the UK and experience life. I feel so trapped. So frustrated. So.. so… ugly. Argh. Please dont be like aww you’re not, we cant even see the bag. You cant but I can, I can feel it I see it everyday. 
 I wake up in the middle of the night “fuck is it leaking, am I leaking everywhere?” No, Im not, Im just paranoid. 

However, Like I said above, its just a whole heap of emotions that come with it. Being completely honest with you there are only certain days I want to curl up in a duvet and cry. I never do, but you know I feel like it! Most days I just get on with it. 
Tin Tin, which is now technically Tin Tin The Second as its a different part of my intestine, is just part of me now, hell I once chased my brother around with it trying to hit him with it. It is me. Sometimes I don’t even worry about it. I’ve forgotten life before him. And though I’ve just gone on a massive rant about it, its easy to come to the conclusion I hate having a stoma. I don’t. I cope exceedingly well with him. There are plenty of people out there with Stoma’s who have it a lot worse than I do and who don’t cope with it half as well as I do.  
This rant was just brought on because all though I don’t mind having a stoma, I don’t want to have it for longer than is necessary. 
In a weird way I think this is some sort of higher weird thing telling me to stop planning so much. I plan for pretty much anything you can think of, its the Higher weird thing trying to get me to loosen up and take life as it comes. 
I know you’re thinking what? But trust me, this whole ride things have been delayed and so many unexpected twists and turns. Life is just telling me I need to roll with the punches :D

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