No. Everybody does not poop. I do not. It is physically impossible for me to poop. And the same goes for an estimated 135,000 people living in Canada.

Sure some of these people have colectomies or urostomies so they do actually poop – but they don’t do it the same way as you.

Me. I’m totally different from you. (Unless you have an ileostomy. And if you do – welcome to the cool kids club!). I don’t have a colon. I don’t have a rectum. I don’t have the lower part of my small intestine.

Gone. All of it. And I’m never ever getting back.

I’m forever thankful to the brilliant surgeons who chopped out these organs and put my body back together so I can actually live and enjoy life. Finally, I kind of sorta get to be like you.

If you’re new to knowing about me or reading this blog then this might be a bit of a shock…

Instead of a colon, a rectum, and a butt hole – I have a stoma, an ileostomy, and a pouch. And this is how I get rid of food waste. For me it’s not poop – need a colon to make this, and I don’t have one.

A stoma is the part of my small intestine that sticks out of a hole in my abdomen. It’s through this stoma that I get rid of food waste (technically called chyme). Now this doesn’t just fall on the floor or into my pants – that would be sticky. This stuff is collected into my pouch.

The pouch is basically a small bag that is attached to my abdomen over top of my stoma. Chyme, stomach acid, and gas leaves my body through my stoma and goes into my pouch. I empty my pouch in the toilet. Unlike you, I don’t have sphincters to control when stuff empties into my pouch. So unlike you, I have zero control over how and when my body eliminates food waste.

So unlike you, eating is a big deal for me.

I need to think about what I’m going to eat, when I’m going to eat, and what I’ll be doing after eating. I have to plan my eating very carefully around activities like grocery shopping, attending work meetings, meeting up with friends, going for a walk, riding my bike, playing hockey, going swimming, sleeping, attending concerts, etc. Essentially every activity I do during my day requires me to think about what I might, want, or can eat.

The pouch attached to my body is stuck there with super sticky glue. But sometimes this glue fails. When this happens it is unfun. And messy. This is why I can’t just let my pouch fill up. This can cause a leak and frankly it’s uncomfortable.

Imagine if you taped a balloon to your abdomen and slowly filled it with water. The balloon starts pulling on the tape on your skin. And it starts expanding in size, making it tricky to move your body.

The other thing about my pouch is that I have to change it every 3 – 5 days. Things don’t stick to your skin forever. Think of how hard it is to get a band-aid to stick to your skin. Yep, same situation with a pouch. There are lots of sticky potions and sprays that I use to make my skin tacky to help the flange (this is the part of the pouch that sticks to my skin) stay put. But as you know, nothing is perfect.

So, why am I telling you all this? Because today, October 7 is World Ostomy Awareness Day.

A day for people like me to do our part to raise awareness of how lucky we are to have this second chance at life. It’s a day for us to be extra thankful for the brilliant surgeons, researchers, doctors, and nurses who devote their lives to making my life possible. It’s a day to celebrate how much of a gift it is to be alive.

I’ve said this before but it’s so important, I need to repeat it again: my ileostomy saved my life.

True fact. Without it, I would be dead.

Before August 8, 2016 I was at my physical and mental breaking point. Ulcerative colitis made living extremely painful. I did my best to hide this – so if you knew me before my surgery date, it’s very likely you had no idea how hard living was. Geez, I’m so relieved I kept at it.

Because, look at me know!

When I had my surgery, I gave my stoma a nickname. (Cause this is what us cool kids do – we give our small intestines a nickname.)

I called mine: Reset.

Reset let me hit the reset button my life. It’s my second chance. Reset lets me live and do all the things. Reset makes sure that there are zero limits on what I can do. Reset is a reminder that life is short. Reset keeps me alive.

Thanks Reset – I owe you more than I can ever explain.

Thank you to the super awesome colorectal surgical team at the Ottawa Hospital. Thank you to Dr. Gauthier for agreeing to take my colon out and gifting me Reset. Thank you to Dr. McCurdy for taking such super care of me and understanding that ulcerative colitis is not just about the physical health but also mental health.

Happy World Ostomy Day!

And in case you’re wondering what a person with an ileostomy looks like. Here’s a photo:

I’ve been meaning to write something here for a while now. More times than I care to admit, I’ve had a great blog post idea and then decided I just didn’t feel like writing or putting myself on the page.

But, I kinda sorta miss writing here. So I’m going to try to make this a regular habit again. Emphasis on the try.

I suppose lately, I’ve felt like there isn’t much worth writing about. The summer is over. I didn’t do anything spectacular. I didn’t set or accomplish any big goals. I had a normal person summer.

I had decided at the start of 2023 that I didn’t want to participate in any events. I found last year I became quite consumed and anxious with being as prepared as possible for the events I did. I spent a lot of time stressing and being anxious.

I told myself in January 2023 that I would have more fun if I just did things like ride my bike or swim without a tangible goal attached to these activities.

But now as I sit here in September I think this might of just been an excuse to not do hard things.

And now I realize that I need to be doing the hard things. I need to be setting big audacious goals. I need to channel my brain and body into goals.

This is how I stay motivated. This is how I stay balanced. This is how I stay happy. This is how I keep myself from slipping into the “I’ll do that tomorrow”.

So yeah, I guess I learned some important things about myself.

The question now is – what to shoot for? Vague goals like – lift weights or ride the trainer or go to swim practice are too soft for me. Sweating and moving is part of me.

Instead I need some real goals. Big ones. Similar to what I set way back in 2008 or in 2001.

So yeah, this is where I’m at. I wrote this so that I can be accountable.

I’ve watched the women in the Ottawa Women’s Cycling Club tick off huge cycling accomplishments this summer, I’ve watched my swim gang achieve big things, I’ve watched Marc continually putting in the time on the bike and believing in himself, I’ve watched my little (13 is still little right?) nephew consistently pick himself up and trying until he nails his latest bike trick, and I’ve read your updates on Facebook, Instagram, and blogs about what you’re doing and achieving.

Thank you for this. Because of you I want to do the same. I guess the next step is up to me.

(And because the algorithms like blogs with photos, here are a couple of photos…)

Lots of lucky days happening around these parts lately.

20-year wedding anniversary on August 7.

7-year stomaversary on August 8.

Today’s anniversary wouldn’t have happened without the first anniversary.

This morning as I was getting ready to leave for my annual mammogram, I was thinking about where I was 7 years ago and how lucky I am to be here today.

When I had my colon removed, I really did not fully understand the implications of this. I just knew I couldn’t keep going with the game of medication roulette. I needed something else. Yes, having my colon removed was my choice.

And while there are days when I struggle with my ileostomy. I do not ever regret having this surgery. Because I know it truly saved my life.

I know what it’s like to lose control of my body.
It’s awful. It’s scary. It’s humiliating. It’s depressing. It’s debilitating. It’s painful. It’s life-changing.

Having my colon removed saved my life.

And now, I have superpower. I have a constant 24/7 reminder to never take anything for granted.

I know that whatever is happening right now, I’ve been through much worse. And deep down I know how strong I can be.

I nicknamed my stoma “Reset”. Because it let me reset my life and get back to living.

I have ulcerative colitis, my small intestines stick out of my abdomen, I have a pouch stuck to my skin all day every day and forever, I have pain every single day, I can’t eat like most people – this is the opposite of fun.

But I’m alive. All thanks to my superpower hidden under my clothes, swimsuit, hockey equipment, and cycling kit.

How lucky am I?

Dudes, it’s been a hot minute hasn’t it? I had the best of intentions, but well, you know how it is.

Every week, I’d think, hmm, I should write about that. And then the moment would be gone. I suppose I’ve been wondering what the point is of jotting down the inner workings of my brain on the world wide web.

But well, I have time so – why not see what happens.

I’m not exaggerating or telling tales when I say that I have no idea what will come next. I don’t have a plan. There isn’t an outline. I don’t have a notepad full of notes. There isn’t a Word document titled To Blog About . Maybe this is the reason why it’s taken me so dang long to do this thing I’ve been doing here for a very long time.

Don’t know. It is what it is. And the secret is – I haven’t got much to say right now.

It’s the summer. I like it. As much as my body dislikes the heat – I enjoy it. I find people are friendlier in the summer. There is less scowling. Fewer grumpy people in the grocery store. More people willing to hold open a door. Less hunching of the shoulders. More eye contact. But underneath it all – I’m sweating, a lot. A lot of sweat. But it’s worth it. Besides, soon it will be so cold that the air will hurt my face.

Normally I tell you about all the things I’ve been up to. The events I have signed up for. The frantic training. The stress about the events. The doubts. The insecurities. The milestones. Well, this summer there aren’t any events.

Okay – one, but it’s not anything I’m overthinking or stressing over.

Last summer I thought I’d do some MTB racing. I signed up for a local series. And I didn’t go to one single race. Too nervous. Too everything. So I decided that my MTB racing days are behind me. I don’t need to be scared on my MTB. I like riding at Larose. Fast, swoopy, gentle trails with a mega dose of green and quiet. This is why I ride my MTB. There is minimal being scared at Larose. And if it does happen, it’s because I’m talking too much and not paying attention to what I’m doing.

Also, no swimming events this summer. Last summer was all about swimming. I swam a lot. I spent a lot of time thinking about swimming. I stressed a lot about swimming. I revelled in it and I also grew tired. By the middle of August, my body simply could not swim. I hit my wall. 4 kms. This was it. Swimming is hard. It takes a lot of training and technique to swim long distances. I found last year I spent so much in the water that I missed my bikes. And I was stressed. Oh boy was I stressed. Anxiety. Stress. Overthinking. Call it what you want – it was happening. Don’t get me wrong – I’m so happy I did the two events. Some days I sit here and think – dude, you really did that!

So this summer is different. No events. Just the 100% Feminin Ride in August. I missed this last year due to the virus that shall not be named.

I’m riding a lot more. I’m still swimming. But not as much. In fact I’ve developed a new habit. Plan to swim. Pack my bag. Set my alarm. Tell Marc that I’ll be swimming and what my swim plan is in the event of disappearance in the deep blue wonder. And then nothing. Alarm goes off. I turn it off. Think about getting up. Change my mind. Go back to sleep. And tell myself that I’ll go tomorrow. Strangely, this elusive tomorrow never seems to come.

I think this is okay. I mean, I’m okay with it. Don’t get me wrong, I had serious FOMO during Bring On The Bay. I vowed to Marc that I will do it next year. I even suggested I’d go for 10 in a row. Marc’s response was to aim for two and see what happens. Besides, BOTB has new t-shirts – and I need one.

Yeah. So, now I’m drawing a blank. Nothing. Not sure. Maybe this is the end of the blog? Or if I sit here for a while, something might creep in. Hard to know.

Okay, yep, looks like this is it. Hope you weren’t expecting more. Because, ya, I’ve got nothing. We’ll see, maybe I’ll try this again next week.

I’m off to look at my gardens. So much weeding. No one told me about the weeding.

And because I know you’re more likely to click and read this if I add a photo or two, here are some photos. Random photos.

Of course you’ve already read all the way to the end. So these photos are kind of in the wrong place. Oh well.

On Wednesday I was having a crap time at swim practice. I couldn’t make the pace times. I felt like I wasn’t moving in the water. I was slow. I was angry at myself. I really really wanted to get out of the pool and go home.

I was standing around getting ready for the next set. I took a look at the workout and then I heard:

“Vicki, you’re doing good. Don’t give up. You’re getting better.”

This made all the difference for me. I kept going. I kept swimming. I felt better.

I was ready to quit that day. But I didn’t because my lane mate noticed I was struggling. She took the time to let me know that she saw me and understood what was going on.

Just a reminder that small actions make a big difference.

Good words really do work.