Colectomy

After a couple of weeks in the hospital I was introduced to a surgeon – Doctor Kortz  (Think that is how you spell it). He was honest, had a good bed side manner and was highly recommended by my Dr.. He explained the surgery and said that it wasn’t a great solution but it was the only one he had. I appreciated the honesty. He also had a dry sense of humor that I appreciated. But I thought I still had some fight in me and told him thanks but no thanks I was going to keep my colon. After one more night of absolutely no sleep and 20 trips to the bathroom I called him and said if you don’t take it out, I will rip it out myself. So, the date was set for the surgery. I was amazed at how quickly they could schedule the surgery. A nurse was sent in to talk to me about some of the specifics and to mark a place for the stoma. Basically this is where part of my small intestines would come out of my gut so I could poop into a bag. Interestingly enough as sick and week as I was I still wondered if I would be able to have sex after the surgery- (am I a guy or what). She assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem “you should be able to have sex as often as you want.” That’s great!!!! could you tell that to my wife!!!!!!

So the surgery. I had no time to think about it. If you are about to go through this or are considering a Colectomy (if you can) talk to some one that has been there. Not just the Dr. or the surgeon but someone that has had a Colectomy.  Some one that has had a Colectomy and is enjoying life. It can help allot to see some one that is doing well because as I remember I wasn’t sure that I would ever feel better. I will say this a few times- I live a very active life now - Skiing, bike riding, almost keeping up with my kids,  and that’s not easy.  Speaking of kids – my wife Pattie was pregnant and had to go to Lamaze classes without me. Her friend Tami went with her.  Tami was a great source of comfort for Pattie during that time.

 Exactly what is the surgery?  Well I see it as being split open and gutted like a fish!!!  I am sure Dr. Kortz would not like that analogy but it seemed like that to me. He cut me open (almost top to bottom) removed everything and put some stuff back. My gut was open and on the table for about 7 ½ hrs. After the operation I would no longer have the disease ridden colon ( I would not have any colon) and my small intestine was attached to my anus (an ileoanal pull through). A persons small intestine isn’t meant to be attached there but it sort of works. I read some place that this allows the patient to have normal bowel movement. (I am not sure what is meant by normal) I also had a temporary Ileostomy (a small part of my small intestine was pulled through my stomach {a stoma}). Again I read that this whole in my stomach would be about the size of a quarter – that must have been a big quarter!!! This “stoma” was basically so I could poop into a bag on my stomach while my anus healed. I know – NOT DINNER CONVERSATION !!!!

I awoke in the recovery room. At that particular time I was actually feeling better than I had in a long while, good drugs. But I was extremely week and I had even more tubes attached to me. I even had a tube up my nose, I lost count of how many other tubes were attached to me. I ate through a tube, I peed through a tube and I pooped into a bag. I looked down and my stomach was held together with staples. I found I was still physically and mentally drained. I had just enough energy to hit this button that released some sort of pain killer into my system, DESSERT. It had some kind of monitor on it to keep me from using too often. Damn it

After a couple of day’s I was still incredibly week. I was week enough that some young woman was sent in to give me a sponge bath. I would of enjoyed it if I wasn’t out of it. While my shriveled up body sat in a chair with just a little napkin thing covering me two more people came into my room. These two wanted some blood – one was training the other. The new person taking my blood took out one of my larger needles and blood shot out of my arm onto the Floor. (I said you might want to plug that.) Not a problem because just than house cleaning came in to empty the trash and dust or something. some one else came into my room and I never did know what they wanted. So I sat there in my little napkin with a carnival of characters parading into my room.  I could not believe that many people could fit in my room.  Believing I could not possibly feel any more humiliated - this young woman asked if I needed my scrotum washed.  At that point  I truly became numb to it all and just shook my head.

I do not remember how long it was before I was able to get out of bed on my own but it was a while. The big day was when I finally was able to walk around the nurses station on my own. This was more of a challenge with all the tubes attached to me. It was truly gratifying when I was able to make it all the way around the nurses station. One day I finally reached a porch at the hospital and for the first time in a couple of weeks went outside. That breath of fresh (OK polluted)  OUTSIDE air was more refreshing than I could have ever imagined – difficult to describe. A part of me wondered if I would ever get to be outside again.

A few day’s latter I started felling better and I was allowed to eat something other than ice chips. The various tubes were taken out of me one by one and I was able to walk a little farther each day. I got my hair cut in a shop in the hospital and started to feel almost normal.

The Dr. told us it was time to go home.  Pattie went home to get a good nights sleep and prepare to bring me home the next day.  That night after taking some oral pain killers my gut started to hurt just a little. I got out of bed to go for a short walk, I felt a sharp pain and the next thing I knew a couple of men were picking me up off the floor.   Instead of going home in the morning I got to get an MRI.  

The MRI was an experience all its own. I was told to lay down on this cold metal bed like thing than I was put into a large tube, a voice from with in the tube spoke to me. DON’T MOVE, LAY PERFECTLY STILL!!!. “OK.   NO TALKING”. –tic tock — tic tock—hrs latter, weeks later, OK not that long but it seemed like a long time! than the voice “WE ARE FINISHED”. Dose that mean I can talk now?

So I am bleeding internally, I have a bump on my head (and a broken floor tile in my room) and my bowls have stopped working. I was not going home. The Dr. told the nurse to give me an NG tube. The look on her face told me that this was going to be unpleasant.  I had one before but it was put in while I was under (way under). Now she was going to put this tube up my nose until it reached my stomach while I was awake.

The nurse wasn’t happy about putting the ng tube back while I was awake. I had to drink water while she was inserting to make sure it would go to my stomach and not my lungs. I would drink, gag, and watch as the water was sucked back out of me through the tube in my nose.  Latter I heard someone that had to have this done that she believed that in hell you would have to have an NG tube put in daily – Yes it seemed that bad.   Back to ice chips for me.    It was almost worst than starting over.  I was completely devastated.  Hope of getting out of the hospital were shot.  I had seen many patient’s come and go and yet here I stay.  Pattie decided to stay with me every night until I was able to escape.  She slept on a (hard as a rock) recliner, remember she is pregnant. 

On a side note: My brother whom I had not spoken with in years came by this week to see me at the hospital (crap am I dieing?). I am glad he came to the hospital and that because he came to see me we actually speak to each other.  But I would of thought that I could have found a less painful (and more dignified way) to start talking again.

At any rate the tubes were slowly removed again and I slowly got off of ice and onto cream of wheat.  The first hamburger that I had when I got out was the best tasting thing in the world.  a few days latter I was set free. sort of.

One month after being admitted to the hospital I was going home weighing in at 155 ponds.  A good 75 ponds lighter than I was just two months earlier and with a new appendage called an Ileostomy.   I would not recommend this as a weight loss program.  It was time to go home. I was incredibly week and I was afraid of my own shadow.  When Pattie and I meet I was a bouncer at a little bar spending  most my time in the gym and I was not afraid of much.  Now I was afraid of everything.  I don’t know if it was because I was so week or because of the drugs that I had been on but I remember fighting off incredible amounts anxiety about everything and everybody.  My dogs did not even know who I was for a couple of days.  We had to have a nurse stop by and help with the Ileostomy as well as checking my stapled body. ( I don’t remember much about the day the staples were taken out.  It must not have been a big deal in the whole scheme of things.)  My father and Tod took turns babysitting me while Pattie was at work.  Than one day Sam came by and introduced himself.  It was great to meet him as he had been through this and he was one of the most lively people I have ever meet.  It was truly great to see how alive he was and to think I might get there helped my attitude greatly.   It was shortly after this that Pattie and I went to a support group meeting.  Going to a support group did not seem like the kind of thing that I would do but once there it was inc readable to meet people that truly knew (truly, truly, truly) what I was going through and I could actual tell that they knew.  {I have not meet with the group for a long while but would like to see them again} They all had there own stories and all seamed to have full lives.   I was looking forward to getting back to life.  

At some point Pattie had me go with her to her ultra sound. I guess she wasn’t going to let me stay in the house forever.   The nurses could not believe she made me go (because I was still so week) but I am glad I did.  This is when we found out that we were having a boy. 

One of my first real outings was to go out to dinner with Eicon.  Eicon is an electronics company that I was working for.  I was really only working part time for them when I got sick and they continued to pay me while I was out sick.  Incredibly gracious  nice of them!  so Pattie drove us to the Christmas dinner party.  It was great to see everyone and  I had a great spaghetti dinner. I was not up to eating much or staying long, as I was still fighting constant anxiety (over nothing).  Pattie had to take me home after a short time.   This was still a step in the right direction.   That is out of the house.  

I was actually able to go back to work part time for Eicon while waiting for the take down of my Ileostomy.  I always believed I was a good hard working employee but during this time I am not sure how effective I was.  I cant began to say how much I  appreciate Gary and Mary (my boss’s) putting up with me during that time.  Working (even just part time) helped me feel a little more normal and gave me some reason to get out of bed.  Actually we had borrowed a recliner from my dad and I spent more time sleeping in that chair than in bed.  

The time came to schedule my next operation. 

Twelve weeks after my first operation the Dr put me under and basically stitched my intestine back together so I could have “normal” bowel movements again (whatever normal is). When it came time for my second operation I had put a little bit a weight back on and was starting to feel better. The Idea of going under the knife again scared the hell out of me even though the first operation did not worry me at all. The first operation was so much more intense and a greater possibility of complications. This procedure in comparison was very minor. The difference was that at the time of my Colectomy I was so sick and insanely tired, anything would be better.  And at this point I was feeling a bit better so I was not wanting to go back to the hospital for anything.  Lying on the table waiting to go in for my operation I was truly trying hard to not panic.  It seemed like I was in the pre surgery room forever just waiting to be taken in to the operating room. 

next page life without my colon.