Dear Colon,
You were in my life for a lovely 30 (almost 31) years and you were good to me. Until. Until March. Until you decided you would rather keep the poop in, instead of letting it come out. That was mean and uncalled for, but I think you got the worst of this deal. It was such a long standoff that I can't really remember the very beginning anymore and who cares how it started? How is it going to end? After arguing, calling, and harassing the doctors at UT Southwestern, I got the medical attention I deserved. I was my own advocate. I truly put my heart and soul into getting the appropriate medical care. As I read blogs and websites about other people in my situation, I see the years these patients have to wait for the surgery I got in less than two months, am I lucky? You see, Colon, I am torn. Am I lucky? I traded you for Ethel. Ethel is happy and loves to poop. She likes to be hidden and makes the funniest sounds when the room is quiet. You, Colon, were discreet and normal. Until two months ago; then you were a rebellious teenager. I was informed. I knew what a coloscopy/ coloectomy was; what I didn't know? The pain and irritation that would follow. The severe pain that my small intestines produced because the doctors waited so long that they were shutting down. So, Colon, I hope you enjoy your life at the hands of medical students dissecting my "amazing" colon. Colon, you will not take my life- there is much living to do.
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What exactly did I have done?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ileostomy
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