Jiving on Regardless

{May 19, 2008}   Post Weekend Downer

I’m having a bit of a post weekend downer.  I had an awesome weekend doing the thing I love most – dancing West Coast Swing.  It was a weekend I had a lot of involvement in organising and I, and my friends/teachers, had great satisfaction in seeing it come together so well.  I met some amazing dancers and really felt my dancing come on.  I didn’t dance as much as I would have liked as I get so tired but I had a good go.

The trouble is the weekend was tainted by me thinking about my pending surgery.  For hours I would get lost in my dancing and my head would work over time working out patterns and variations as well as a lot of  work on technique. We had our first private lesson which was excellent and got me really excited about our future dancing but then of course I realised that no matter how much work I put in now, come September it will be buggered for two years.  People were talking about planning a trip to the US next year and was so up for it but then realised that regardless of money I wouldn’t be going.  I know I might dance a little in that time but no where near as much as I would like and my ability in West Coast will definitely suffer as a result.  This flattens me.  I hear everyone excitedly discussing what they want to achieve and feel so frustrated that my bowels prevent me from doing this.

On Sunday we were meant to have a chat with my in-laws about the op and how they might help during my recovery.  All Saturday I kept on thinking about this chat and I so couldn’t face it.  I couldn’t face their sympathy and disappointment. In the end I danced the Sunday all day and night so got out of it.  I have only put it off for week but it was a bit weak of me.

I feel terribly selfish for letting this get me down because of my dancing.  I know I have to do this op because it is the best (and ultimately) only thing I can do. My dancing will suffer anyway when I get really ill so it is pretty irrelevant.  It is much more important that I get healthy, then stay healthy for me and my family.  It’s pants though, I find something I love to do and am then prevented from doing it.

I don’t know, but do people look at your stomach rather than your face when they’re talking to you after this op?  I bet they do, i bet they check you out to see if they can see your bag.  It’s bad enough having men talk to my breasts, having them talk to a bag of shit really doesn’t do a lot for me 🙂

My nurse rang today with details of a lady my age who has had the ops over the last five years (she had a three year delay between illiostomy and J Pouch).  I shall call her this week for a chat but it feels a bit weird.  How do you pick up the telephone and start talking to a complete stranger about bowels?  If I had her email it would be easier but I have to do it by phone. It’s a strange thing to do huh?

I had a horrible dream last night which actually left me screaming out loud in my sleep.  I am sure it is because I am whittleing.  If I am whittleing about this now, what on earth am I going to be like when it actually happens?  I do still feel excited at the same time but then that makes me feel wierd as who gets excited about having their bowel removed and having a bag?!  I feel a bit like I am wading through fog, suspended in mid air with no idea quite where I am heading.

It’s funny as I never have a problem talking but when I feel very stressed I find it incredibly difficult to get it all out.  I can talk to people matter of factly and be apparently honest and open but I am not truly.  I think truly I would quite like to curl up in bed and hide, or stand in a field and scream.  It’s very lonely being ill and facing such a huge change.  No matter who you speak to about it, even those who have a shared experience, it still feels lonely.

I guess I could really do with some sleep.


et cetera