Trial & Tribs

I haven't written in quite some time. I think I've misplaced my faith in the healing powers of putting everything out there. I don't feel healed. Not to mention that it's not very nice of me to put all my negativity into the universe via this blog, but here it goes. I'm hopeful that everybody I've told about my bloggin' is no longer tuning in so now seems a good time as any to spout off. My dad was diagnosed with rectal cancer in November. It's weird how quickly things take off after an initial diagnoses.

The surgery was set for December 4Th, same day mom died. The days after surgery will be ingrained in my mind and my heart forever. They removed his rectum and rerouted everything through his stomach. Although they had him doped up with morphine and pain meds I can't even pronounce, he suffered. His memory is sketchy on the days following the surgery, but I remember. In the days since, he's learning to live his life with a new appendage, the colostomy bag that must be emptied twice a day, every day for the duration of his life. Up until yesterday, this duty was performed by my niece and I who were "trained" by the ostomy nurses at St. Joseph Hospital. Because of the red tape that is synonymous with insurance we were initially told he would only be allowed up to 20 bags a month which means he would have to empty and reuse bags to conserve. The pre-registration nurse at St. Joseph told us there was an option for getting disposable bags, however "they", I'm not sure who "they" are but I can guarantee you they're probably not dealing with the mess of having to reuse bags, disapproved of human waste being deposited in the garbage can, ergo the first option to reuse bags. Of course, we know it has to do with insurance costs. It always does. The nurse said we had to prove my dad was a candidate for the disposable bags. So let me tell you the process for emptying a bag. Supposedly for a man, he should be able to sit on the toilet and allow the bag to hang between his legs. Remove the clip from the end of the bag and allow the waste to empty into the toilet. This is how things are supposed to work. Not so in real time. One, the stoma -- the medical term for the new organ on my dad's stomach where waste is secreted, sits high on his really full tummy so when it hangs down it literally sits on his lower abdomen. Before emptying the bag, he has to remove the clip, then fold the end of the bag up so waste does not soil the end -- if waste taints the end of the bag, there is odor because that's the part exposed after applying the clip. Well regardless to whether the bag is folded up or not fecal matter always finds its way to the end of the bag. To circumvent this we were told to use wet wipes to clean off the end of the bag, which is not a pleasant task. After emptying the bag, he has to unfold the end and gently wrap it around the clip. My dad is 78 years old this January, a diabetic, which means that cleanliness is critical, and at times his right hand shakes so badly he can barely hold on to the needle to give himself a shot of insulin, let alone maneuver the colostomy bag attached to his stomach. There is no way he will be able to easily adapt this routine into his daily life, not without there being some messy moments, which would be very embarrassing and upsetting for my very proud father. And just for the record, the waste in the bag never smoothly flows from the bag to the toilet especially as it becomes more solid. After a bit of discussion with the home care nurse, it was agreed disposal bags would be more suitable for Dad. Yesterday Dad was able to change the bag in the privacy of his bathroom, by taking off the soiled bag and tossing it in the garbage, and sealing the new one to the wafer attached to his stomach. I'll tell you about the wafer later. I think that small measure of privacy and independence will go a long way to getting some normalcy back into his life, which I hope will help in not just his physical recovery, but emotional as well. We get 60 of the disposal bags. So generous. Okay, I'm done talking about this for now. But I have so much more to say.