In June of 1996 I had my first colonoscopy at the age of eighteen, where I found out that I had a hereditary disease called "familial adenomatous polyposis." I was told that I would need to have surgery to have my colon removed, and I should do so soon due to the amount of polyps that I already had in my colon. On September fourth 1996 I went under the knife, the surgeon performed a total colectomy with a partial proctectomy and a end ileostomy. Unfortunately this is not where my story ends, but where it begins. During the surgery an apple sized tumor was found in my rectum. My first memory upon waking from surgery was my grandparents standing to the left of me, and my surgeon standing at the foot of my bed, with about four other "doctor types" standing with him whom I had never met before. My surgeon then told me that I had stage three colo-rectal cancer, and a forty percent survival rate. From there, I was given an analogy by my surgeon that I will never forget, "Kris, this is game seven, and then proceeded to tell me that I will need chemo and radiation therapy. Being the vain kid I was, upon hearing that I would need chemo, I immediately looked at my grand father and said "I'm going to lose my hair?!?!." Being the kindest, sweetest, most caring man I know, he said, "don't worry we will got you the best wig money can buy." Little did I know I was going to lose my hair regardless due to male pattern baldness, but I digress.
In June of the following year, after I had completed my chemo and radiation therapy, I went back for my second surgery. This time the surgery was to remove my ileostomy and connect my small intestine to what was left of my rectum, via a "J-Pouch," which basically worked as a "mini-colon."
Next thing I know its September of '97' I get a call from the doctor who tells me, that I have been cancer free for one full year, which was great news to hear, now all I have to do is keep up with my doctors appointments, move on with my life, and hopefully the cancer will remain in remission. Thankfully the cancer did remain in remission, but unfortunately that's only half the battle.
A few months after my second surgery to "connect my insides," I started having trouble fully emptying my bowels, and the reasoning behind that was anal stenosis, which in my case is when the anal canal narrows due to scar tissue. To try and help fix this I was dilated several times under anesthesia, but to no avail, even after being dilated three times I still was unable to empty my bowels completely. The discomfort with not being able to go to the bathroom became so bad that I would drink one to two cans of prune juice a day purposely give my self diarrhea in hopes that would help me be to able to empty my bowels. I called and spoke with my surgeon, explaining to him that I was still having trouble despite the dilation's, and was using prune juice as a way to help evacuate my bowels. He suggested a "medina catheter," a tube that I would insert into my rectum, and use syringes to shoot water through the catheter and into my bowels, basically an over sized enema. While this new way of emptying my bowels was working the discomfort and annoyance of having to use a catheter every time I had to use the bathroom started to take its toll.
After a few months of using the catheter irrigation method, I was referred to a colo-rectal surgeon, who might be able to fix, or at least help me with my problem. After making a consultation appointment with him, a surgery was scheduled where he would make a few cuts in my rectum to help with my anal stenosis. A few months had passed since the surgery to help with my anal stenosis, and I was still having to catheter myself, not only that, now I have now no control over my bowels while I sleep, and partial control while I am awake. I am now wearing a diaper every night to bed so I don't ruin my sheets, and a pad in my underwear so I don't soil myself during the day. This was all becoming way too much for me to handle.
At that point in my life I was twenty five years old, extremely embarrassed of my situation, I would only talk about it with a select group of people, and even with the people I chose to discuss it with, I never fully disclosed exactly what I was going through, or the affects it had on my self esteem. The anxiety with my situation became so strong that I started pulling away from my friends and family, I was leaving my house only to go to work, I was turning into a recluse. I couldn't see a way out of my situation and because of that spent the next five years of my life withdrawn, scared, embarrassed and ashamed.
I was given the opportunity to talk to a therapist, and I made the right decision and took that step. I was diagnosed with panic disorder, and obsessive compulsive disorder. Through countless hours of very intense therapy I got to the root of all my underlying anxieties and compulsive behaviors, and wouldn't you know, it was my old friend cancer, I never dealt with all the emotions that came along with this disease and in my case it manifested itself in extreme anxiety and obsessive thoughts and behavior.
So, why am I writing this blog, many of you might be asking yourself, and here is the reason. Tomorrow, August 5th 2013, I am having a surgery to receive a permanent ileostomy. No more diapers, no more pads, and no more catheters in my rectum every time I need to use the bathroom. Physically my quality of life is going to change dramatically for the better, but I know from experience that there is more to deal with than just the physical. Regardless of how much better I feel physically, I know myself well enough to know that I am going to have some serious body image issues, and as a single thirty-five year old guy, rightfully so! Here is the important part, how am I going to deal with it, how am I going to turn this negative into a positive, and fortunately I have an answer. First I am documenting my entire experience from my surgery; I will be doing this by blogging, taking pictures, videos and being painfully honest with all my ups and downs on my road to recovery and beyond. Second, I have found myself a great trainer, who starting the first day I am able to work out, which should be a month from tomorrow is going to help me change my body, from a skinny, scarred, and now bagged body, to the "after photo" from your favorite infomercial. I will also be documenting my results as well as what I have been doing to obtain them on this blog as well.
The bottom line....I am scared, make that really scared of what the future holds for me, so I thought the best way to deal with this situation was to document it. Hopefully it will be therapeutic in some way, and help me come to grips with my new body. I know I cant do this alone, so I am asking you to follow me on my journey though all the peaks and valleys and help me stay strong, and in return I will answer any question you have with 100% honesty. Maybe I can help you while you help me? We all have our differences, physically, mentally and emotionally, they are pointed out to us on a daily basis, whether it be from the television, magazine, or some other media outlet, lets forget our differences, and focus on our similarities...
