It’s been a couple of weeks since my last op and slowly, my wounds and scars are healing. It’s yet another big scar, though it has gone through the scar site of previous surgeries.
Just a warning that there will be some graphic images of my wounds in this post, so if you have problems with that, perhaps click away now.
Part of my scar opened up after having the staples removed and so I’m cleaning it daily and trying to encourage to to heal from the inside out. This means I have a little hole in my tummy just above my belly button. Inside my belly button is also very slow to heal, so it’s a case of keeping both wounds clean and dry and letting time take its course.
Cleaning the sites is a little tricky as I can’t quite see, so I am doing it in the mirror. I have this magnifying make up mirror on my dressing table and that helps for me to see inside the wounds as I wash them.
Unfortunately it also gives me this close up, well lit, view of my stomach and all it’s many scars, marks and bruises. This morning, it all got a bit much and I got really upset looking at the state of my body. I have always dealt with my scars quite well, I see them as war wounds and have always been quite proud of them.
Yet after surgery number 5, it is getting harder and harder to see the bright side. My stomach is covered in scars, my ostomy bag and currently lots of little marks and bruises as I’m injecting myself with blood thinners to counteract DVT and blood clots. (I’m not very good at it and keep hitting blood vessels!!)
I have to admit that I’ve sat and had a big cry. I just felt so sorry for myself and I hate that I’m moping but fucking hell, my body is a mess! I saw myself with fresh eyes today and recognised just how battered my stomach looks. It made me wonder how Timm could ever find me attractive again?! He’s loving and sweet and I know he’d never say anything unkind to me, but it must be tough for him to see how awful my body looks right now.
I’m sorry this is such a ‘woe is me’ post, I know I’m usually banging on about empowerment and loving your body but right now, I’m finding it tough.
Saying that, I still do respect my body and think I’m a total badass! I love that I’m still standing (well mostly sitting or laying) after everything that’s been thrown at me. I’m in awe that my body is doing such a great job of healing itself after surgery. I feel tough and strong knowing that I’ve been through a lot and I’m here.
It’s not fucking fair. This isn’t fair, I don’t want this, I’m sick of having operations, I’m so fucking fed up of not being well and ok. I hate looking in the mirror at my scars, these open wounds make me feel queasy. I am fed up, angry and heartbroken that 3 years after the first surgery that I thought would solve all my problems that I’m still struggling.
I feel hopeless. And that’s the hardest feeling. It’s like I can’t feel optimistic because optimism hasn’t faired me well so far. There’s no point in believing this will be my last surgery as I’ve thought that every time and it got me nowhere but disappointed. So it’s probably easier to assume the worst and then at least I’ll be proved right.
Fuck, I hate that I’ve just written all of that. I read it back and it’s not me. I’m not a pessimist, I should be sticking rhinestones on myself and celebrating the silver linings but right now I just can’t.
I read back at my older posts and wonder what has changed. Why don’t I feel hopeful and optimistic now when I have in the past? I’m now aware just how annoying it must have been to read my jolly posts whilst you were struggling. Sorry about that!
People say I’ve inspired them. I find that hard to say because it sounds big headed. But I am proud that in sharing my journey that I have helped people. I just hope people can find comfort in the rough posts too. I’m sorry I can’t be rainbows and kittens for you today, but I hope anyone who is having a tough time can read this and know they aren’t alone.