I bring this up because we had a “poomadeggon” around here tonight. I had to take a shower, and change my ostomy bag. So, I get in the shower, with no bag on. Poo happens. I wash it down the drain with the shower head. I continue my shower, and look down, and there is some more pesky poo in the tub. EWWWWWWW! I wash it down again. Finally I finish my shower and get out of the tub.
I am standing there near the toilet, because you know, no bag, and knowledge that the stoma is active. If I stand near the toilet, whatever comes out will drop into the toilet, right? That is unless the shower head falls off the holder, and scares me. I jumped, the stoma spewed all over the place. I started crying. Fabgrandpa came in with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He got all the poo up and cleaned up the toilet, the floor, took the rug out to the back porch, and went back to the living room while I got things under control with my stoma. Got the new bag on, and I went into the living room. Sniff, sniff!
I caught of whiff of something rather POO smelling, so I started looking all over myself, looking for poo that escaped the cleanup. Not on me. I smelled it again. Looked over there and it is on Fabgrandpa’s foot! He had stepped in it! So, I told him to go in the bathroom and wash his feet in the tub. The shower head wouldn’t reach his foot. So, he came back in the living room, I got a towel and some wipes, and got him cleaned up. Finally, Poomageggon is over.
This is just a day in the life of an ostomate. Be thankful every day that you don’t belong to this club!
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