Swimming with a stoma

I did a little film last year with Clinimed about swimming with a stoma. It is one of the most common questions I get asked, “Can I still swim with a stoma?” (that and questions about sex…)

The answer is that you can swim with a stoma unless your doctor or medical professional has told you can’t. But there is no reason that you can’t swim once you have to wear an ileostomy or colostomy bag. They are waterproof, they are sticky and won’t just fall off in the water, you can have it on show or cover it up with a swimsuit or swim vest and no-one will know unless you tell them.

I have always loved the water and since having my stoma, I have swum in pools, seas, rivers, lakes and anywhere else I can find to have a dip. I have been to spas and gone in jacuzzis and steam rooms, and never once in ten years has my bag fallen off or leaked in the water.

Have a watch of the video and hear me talking about my own experiences and also the Aura Plus ileostomy bag. You can also see some cool drone footage of me wild swimming and loving it!

This was a paid video, but all opinions and reviews are my honest opinions. I only work with companies that I use personally and that I believe are trusted sources of support.

Enjoy!

Sam xx

Oh hi! It’s been a while!

Hello everyone, I know it has been a very long time since I wrote a new post on here. I have started so many times, there are many sat in my drafts folder that I just couldn’t hit post on. I am going to try again and attempt to explain a little of what has been going on.

Firstly, let me just say thank you to everyone who has kept up with me on Facebook and Instagram, also to the many people who still are reading my old posts here. Also a big thank you to the people I meet in real lift who read my posts and have such lovely comments.

So, what has been going on and why have I not been blogging for the past year…

In February 2020 I had a big surgery and things didn’t go too well. There were lots of issues post op and then I ended up with an Acute Kidney Injury and my kidneys were failing. You can read about it in the link above, we then went into lockdown when Covid hit and the world turned upside down. I posted a little about it here

“I feel so lost at the minute. This time last year I had a job I loved, I had my own radio show on the BBC, I was blogging and I thought my surgery had been successful and the future felt bright. Right now I’m recovering from 9th surgery. I have no job, the radio show has been put on hold due to corona and I just feel like I dont even know who I am any more. The one thing I’ve always loved is writing. But I have lost my confidence even with that. I try to blog and just stare at the screen. I just have lost it. “

April 2020

We trawled our way through Covid, I started therapy after being diagnosed with PTSD and though it helped, it also brought up a lot of past trauma. I tried to do what I have always done, write about it, explore those feelings, try and figure out what I was going through and how I could make it better. I spoke about family matters, and I was thoroughly told off and judged for doing this. I can see in hindsight that it felt too personal and upsetting, and that it wasn’t the right call, but the backlash was quite awful. This really effected me during a time where I was going through PTSD and so much trauma and it made me scared to write.

My health didn’t improve after the 2020 surgery, and in November last year I was admitted to hospital. I had been in agony for months and it had gotten to the point where I couldn’t eat, I lost two stone in 6 weeks and it turned out my intestine had moved into the hernia and got trapped. I was admitted to hospital and put on TPN as I was malnourished and though I needed surgery, my body was too weak to cope. After four weeks in hospital on TPN and other medication and treatment, I had surgery at the beginning of December 2022, it was a big surgery to try and fix the hernia and another full abdominal reconstruction. I woke after a 7 hour surgery and immediately didn’t feel ‘right’, I was in agony and having chest pains, I didn’t feel well but I had no idea what was to come.

The staff were incredible. And they soon realised that my bowel had perforated after the surgery, it was leaking into my body and I had developed Sepsis. A team suddenly was surrounding my bed, they were explaining to Timm and I what had happened and that they needed to take me immediately into emergency surgery. I was already exhausted, in pain and not really with it, I just remember there being so many people and I had to go there and then, I asked them “Am I going to die?” He said “We are going to do everything we can, but you are very poorly, you need to say your goodbyes”. Shit got serious. They wheeled me away and Timm kissed my head, we said I love you and the doors closed behind me leaving him stood in the corridor.

I woke up days later in Intensive Care. They had managed to fix my bowel but had put me into a medically induced coma, I was sedated and had a breathing tube in my throat. I had machines and tubes and wires attached to every part of my body keeping me alive. It was terrifying. Timm was sat by my bed, he looked like he had aged ten years since I saw him last. That whole time is a blur and honestly, this is the most I can manage to talk about right now. It was hell. It was the worst days of my life, and probably the worst of Timm’s.

Eventually I was moved from ICU onto a ward where they were still battling to fight the Sepsis, I was still on TPN and having multiple antibiotics every day to try and get on top of the infections. I couldn’t get out of bed, I had 6 drains in my tummy and so many tubes and bags, I couldn’t even sit up without help. I then caught flu and a hospital acquired infection called VRE (Vancomycin-resistant Enterococci). I was moved into a private room and everyone who came in had to wear apron, mask and gloves. At a time when I needed contact, I had never felt so lonely. Then Timm caught Covid and couldn’t visit at all.

It is incredibly hard to write about this. I can’t go into details, it is just too hard. I am shaking and feel sick just writing this, I think I have just tried to forget it all. I was finally allowed home in January, eight weeks after I had first walked through the doors, eight weeks of being an inpatient. Eight weeks. I had been allowed day leave on Christmas Day. I came home to Timm and my babies. But honestly, I barely remember it, I slept through most of the day and I cry every time I think about Christmas now. That is all I can say.

I came home, but I still had so many infections. I had to go to hospital every day for IV antibiotics through my PICC line. Timm then learnt how to administer them so that I could stay at home, as every day was agony getting to and from the hospital and it wiped me out for the full day. So then he gave them to me every day at home and we only had to go in once a week for blood tests and to collect the next weeks meds, syringes and all the stuff that goes with it. We did this every day till the end of April.

In April I had to have another surgery. The mesh in my tummy was the cause of the infections that we couldn’t shift with antibiotics and so they removed it. I had another couple of weeks of IV antibiotics and then eventually in (I think) the beginning of May, they removed my PICC line finally and I went onto tablet antibiotics.

Since then, I have been healing. Physically healing, but mentally and emotionally I think it is all blocked up in there. This is the first time I have tried to even lay out the timeline and go through the hell of the past 8 months. I am not ok. Timm has been through hell and back watching it and being there for me. He has done everything. He is everything.

It is times like this where all the shit in the world has hit every fan in the world that you take stock, you are grateful for the love and support of friends and family. It is the time where you realise who is there for you. I am so lucky to have an amazing husband who was there every damn step of the way, to have friends who were incredible, who looked after my kids, fed my family, was a support system for them when I couldn’t be there, who called and text, who visited and listened and loved and were just there. My sister in Australia called and messaged constantly, she was my night shift. My aunties who visited me and the kids, who cooked for them and brought gifts. Our friends who send weekly videos of their babies to make me smile. Friends who were just there and were amazing. Timm and I are so lucky to have so much love in our lives.

It has been the toughest year of our lives. But we have come through it.

Let me tell you about some nice things though, so its not all doom and gloom. Timm and I graduated this year, how on earth we managed to get through our final year when all this was going on, I have no idea! I think it just gave us something else to focus on, something other than medical crap and hospitals, something that brought us joy. I made all my work in hospital and used the experience to create my final exhibition. Ill post about that separate, but I only went and got a First class degree with honours in Fine Art!!! And Timm got the same in Film Production. We are both so proud of ourselves and each other!

This year has made us both focus in on who and what matters. On the people who love us and who we love. On the people who were there for us when we had nothing to give back. On what brings us joy. On how fragile life is. On what our future holds.

Mentally I feel like I have been in a tumble dryer, everything is so jumbled and staticky, I am anxious and low, I am masking so much and just shoving it in the bottom drawer, but man, that drawer is looking fit to burst. We are both a bit shell shocked I think and we need time and space and nurturing to resolve things and move forward together. I was offered and started therapy but honestly it was too much too soon. I had two sessions and it was hell, I couldn’t cope with it at that point. I am a huge advocate of therapy and highly recommend it, but it needs to be at the right time for you.

So why now? Why am I even writing this?

Well, I feel pretty empty right now, I have come through this trauma and survived, I have finished uni and so I feel like I should be on top of the world! But in reality, I still feel lost. I don’t know who I am or what I can do any more. I have lost so much confidence, I have been applying for so many jobs and it is a tough world out there now! I felt like this blog was done, that I can’t write anymore, that any spark of confidence I had in my writing had died. I felt I had nothing more to give.

Then I went to Tramlines festival this year, and I met a couple coming out of the accessible toilet. “Sam Cleasby?” she said. I panicked, thinking why don’t I recognise this woman?? She told me her husband had a stoma and they read this blog, she said lovely kind words and told me how much it had helped them. We hugged and said goodbye and I walked away feeling a bit dazed. I remembered why I started this blog and realised that it does still help people.

A week later I went to the Pain Clinic, after my appointment, the nurse said to me “Does your badge say So Bad Ass?” I looked down and realised it was on my old dungarees holding the strap together! She asked if I was the woman who wrote this blog and told me she had one of my posts (Letter to the tea lady) printed out and stuck on the wall of her desk to remind her to always remember the person behind the patient. I was gobsmacked.

And so it felt like the stars were aligning to tell me to get myself into gear and just jump back in and WRITE. So here I am.

I am going to try and write more. Though this has been truly difficult to write down, it has felt like slipping back into a comfy pair of slippers and I remember why I do it. I still have doubts and fears, the internet world can be a nasty place, with so many people wanting to write nasty, mean comments and messages. But there are so many others who are kind and lovely and who are struggling, so if I can write down some of the thoughts in my brain then maybe it will make it all feel a little better for both of us.

Thanks for reading and I am sending you all love and peace

Sam xx

Tramlines! Festivals and chronic illness

Tramlines is a Sheffield festival that is an amazing party in July each year. This year felt like the best one yet!

I got through on a bucket load of pain meds, my The Alinker UK, my Neo-Walk cane, very good friends and the brilliant access team. Festivals can feel like an unattainable mountain when you have a chronic illness. So I thought Id share a few of my top tips…

A woman sits on an alinker mobility aid posing with another woman at a festival in front of a sign that says I heart Sheff

Access Team

Get in touch with the festival access team asap to explain your needs and find out what support they have. I had a wrist band to use their many accessible loos, go on their viewing platforms and also just let them know I’d be bringing prescription meds (they even had a fridge if you need your meds to be kept at temp!) and I had my alinker and cane. I also got a PA pass for someone to be able to help me. Tramlines was awarded Gold Status by Attitude is Everything, a charity that improves deaf and disabled people’s access to live music. Search the website of the event or festival you are going to, to find out more about what they do for their access customers.

PA or Friend

Lots of festivals do a free ticket for you to bring a friend or PA with you. My friend Sarah helped me all weekend and I wouldn’t have managed to get through it all without her!

Know your limits

We’re all individual and have different needs. Know what your limits are, have a look on the website before and try to plan your day a bit. Who are your must see bands? What other activities are there onsite? My awesome friends Responsible Fishing UK were there stone balancing so I knew that was a bit of a chill out area that I could go and sit down at. Don’t beat yourself up if you have to arrive later or leave earlier, listen to your body x

Be prepared

Think about what you’ll need for a full day. For me it’s about how many ostomy bags do I need? What about a change of clothes if I leak? How much medication? Lots of festivals limit the size of bag you can bring in, but if you speak to the access team and explain what your needs are, they have to support you. If you’re at a festival with camping and will be away from home for a period of time, make sure you have more than you think you’ll need of your medical supplies! I once had a nightmare at Glastonbury when I just started to leak constantly and went through all my bags in a couple of days! I was saved by a kind stranger, you can read about it here!

You may no longer be a mosher!

Back in the day, I’d have been right down at the front for watching bands! Some of you may still be there! I am not! Viewing platforms are great sometimes, but honestly I prefer to just be further back in the crowd, you still get the audience atmosphere and there’s a bit more space! Personal preferences, but having a space where you can sit if you want, where your mobility aid has room and where you can get back and forth to toilets is the right choice for me!

Alcohol

If you drink alcohol just be aware of how it effects you. Can you drink on your meds? If you have a bag, do certain drinks make it fill up quicker? Don’t over do it, take care of yourself and be safe x

Medical needs

If there’s a medical need, festivals should have medical assistance onsite, though depending on the size of the event depends on how good it will be. Tramlines medical tent is like a little hospital!!! I can’t believe how much they have there! If you have a medical need onsite, ask someone for help and they’ll be able to show you where to go. For smaller needs, there should be a Welfare tent where staff can help. Don’t be afraid to ask.

disabled woman at a festival wearing a waterproof pink poncho and using a cane.

Have fun! (whether you make it or not!)

If you can make it to a festival, enjoy! Enjoy however you can manage, however makes you happy. If you can’t make it, then don’t beat yourself up. There was no way I’d have managed Glastonbury this year, we’ve been loads of times but I knew it was just too much for me this year. It happens and life goes on, have your sadness for a moment and then do some nice at home that you couldn’t possibly do at a festival! Gorge bubble bath watching Netflix and having a glass of fizz? Yes please!!!

Plan your journey

However well organised, getting tens of thousands of people off one site is always going to be busy! Planning your journey home is important. At Tramlines this year, the accessible parking was as close as they could get to the entrance but that did mean that you had to either leave a bit earlier or wait for roads to reopen. Not a massive deal for me but only because I planned for it, we just spent that time posting on Instagram, having a drink and chatting about our day. If using public transport be aware that it’s going to be BUSY! Planning ahead is key.


Festivals have always been an important part of my life, I love seeing live music, I love the vibrancy and sheer fun of them. I have taken my kids to festivals all their lives and have so many beautiful memories of them. After over twenty years of festivals all over the UK, as I become more poorly and have more mobility issues, I feared that perhaps I couldn’t manage them any more. But life is about adaptation, I may not do them in the same way as I used to, but I can still do the things that I love the most.

Tramlines is run by my husband, he has been part of the production team from the very beginning in 2009 and to see it grow into such an amazing, huge event is so heartwarming, I am immensely proud of everything he and his team have achieved! Some people say I get preferential treatment from this festival, but I go through their access team the same way as everyone else. The staff aim to treat everyone the same, to ensure access customers get any support they need to have an absolute blast and it’s important to me to go along as a normal guest so I can see how their team works and if there is anything they can improve on so I can feed this back to my husband.

This weekend was just incredible, I have to thank my friend Sarah again for all her help and support in being my PA. She’s a star and made everything a little easier.

I would love to hear your own top tips on having the most fun at a festival! Add yours in the comments below!

Peace and love

Sam xx

Covid and an ostomy

After 18 months of avoiding the dreaded Covid, I got a positive LFT test in December, followed by the PCR confirming it. No-one else in the house was testing positive so I was lucky enough to have a spare room in the house to move into, as my daughter is away at uni, there is also a small bathroom and it is on the top floor of the house, so I was able to avoid the family and isolate.

I searched a lot about how Covid could effect my ileostomy and didn’t find too much. I did find ‘An Ostomates experience of Covid19’ on the Coloplast website, so that is worth a look. So I thought I would share my experience, as always this is just my personal experience and Im not medically trained, so if you are concerned about yourself, you should speak to a medical professional.

It started with just feeling a bit off, a high temperature and a bit of a cough, after testing and isolating, I felt a little rough for a couple of days but nothing too bad. Then on day three, I began to vomit and have extremely high output, my temperature was sky high and I felt terrible. I started taking rehydration sachets to combat the vomiting and diarrhoea, but by day 5 it was really tough.

My husband tested positive at this time too, and he was feeling really poorly. We had similar symptoms in some ways, high temp, sweating, feeling hot and then freezing. We both had terrible headaches, were exhausted and sleeping a lot, were breathless and our chests hurt.

But it was the vomiting and high output from my stoma that was the worst. By day 5 I couldn’t eat at all, I was only keeping down sips of water and I had to call 111. I was terrified of being admitted to hospital. Would I end up on a ventilator? Would there be stoma nurses on Covid wards? Would this damage my kidneys again? What if I died? 111 were great and got a GP to call me, he listened to my concerns and prescribed some anti emetic medication to help me stop vomiting and told me to continue to take the rehydration sachets, with orders to call 111 immediately if it got worse, if I passed out, if I stopped peeing.

My lovely friend picked up the medication and dropped it at out doorstep and though it helped with the vomiting, I was still extremely nauseous and my ileostomy bag was just filling with watery bile constantly. On day 7, I had to call 111 again as I couldn’t even keep water down, they gave me some more anti emetics and I was told the next step was hospital. I had also started coughing up grey and green phlegm, which I was told is not a symptom of Covid but of a chest infection, which was probably caused by the Covid, so I was given a high dose of antibiotics.

Woman with an ileostomy and COVID 19 looks thin and poorly

What was so difficult is that my husband was as poorly as I was but without the vomiting. He was bed ridden and his temperature was frighteningly high, had awful headaches and fatigue. So we lay in bed, side by side feeling sorry for ourselves but they do say misery loves company!! So it was actually quite nice to be in it together.

Luckily the vomiting and output slowed down after this, and over the next few days, I started to feel a little more human. It was around 10 days of feeling really ill, and I lost over a stone in that time. I was still very weak and poorly, but once I could eat and drink again, everything became a bit more bearable.

Whenever I am poorly with a cold or infection, my stoma reacts badly and I get bad diarrhoea and so it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Covid caused the same thing for me. But it was a scary time and I am so glad we are over the worst of it now.

All I can say is that if you have any illness that causes your ostomy to act differently, it is worth calling your GP to check in. Dehydration is so often overlooked or thought to not be a big deal, but its huge and it can damage your kidneys and make you incredibly unwell.

The NHS says: You’re at an increased risk of becoming dehydrated if you have an ileostomy because the large intestine, which is either removed or unused if you have an ileostomy, plays an important role in helping absorb water from food waste.

This makes it important to make sure you drink enough fluids to keep your urine a pale yellow colour to prevent complications of dehydration, such as kidney stones and even kidney failure.

Symptoms of dehydration in adults and children include:

  • feeling thirsty
  • dark yellow and strong-smelling pee
  • feeling dizzy or lightheaded
  • feeling tired
  • a dry mouth, lips and eyes
  • peeing little, and fewer than 4 times a day

Dehydration can happen more easily if you have:

  • diabetes
  • vomiting or diarrhoea
  • been in the sun too long (heatstroke)
  • drunk too much alcohol
  • sweated too much after exercising
  • a high temperature of 38C or more
  • been taking medicines that make you pee more (diuretics)

How you can reduce the risk of dehydration

  • Drink fluids when you feel any dehydration symptoms
  • If you find it hard to drink because you feel sick or have been sick, start with small sips and then gradually drink more.
  • You can use a spoon to make it easier for your child to swallow the fluids.
  • You should drink enough during the day so your pee is a pale clear colour
  • Drink more when there’s a higher risk of dehydrating, for example, if you’re vomiting, sweating or you have diarrhoea.

A pharmacist can help with dehydration

If you’re being sick or have diarrhoea and are losing too much fluid, you need to put back the sugar, salts and minerals that your body has lost.

Your pharmacist can recommend oral rehydration sachets. These are powders that you mix with water and then drink.


The other thing I would say was quite difficult with having Covid and an ileostomy is that I also have a ParaStomal Hernia, this is a hernia that sits behind the stoma and I am used to having to support it when coughing. Usually this isn’t a big deal as you don’t cough that often! But when you are constantly coughing, it is important to support the hernia. You can do this by gently pressing and holding the hernia as you cough, you can use your hands or a folded towel or sheet.

I am well on the mend now physically, but mentally it really took a toll on me. I have been having therapy for the past six months for PTSD after my last surgery. One of my big triggers is from when I was wrongly discharged from hospital when my kidneys were failing. I came home and I started vomiting litres of bile and my body started to shut down. The hospital called when they realised their mistake and told my husband to bring me straight back in as I had a stage 3 AKI (Acute Kidney Injury). I was very unwell but thankfully it was a good outcome and I recovered. But the incident made me develop PTSD, I had panic attacks, insomnia and depression. The symptoms of Covid, the vomiting, the dehydration, the panic of whether I would go to hospital or not, it made those past feelings come flooding back and I have had a bad few weeks trying to deal with this relapse into anxiety.

Its been about 6 and a half weeks since I got Covid, and Im happy to say that I am doing much better now physically. But I wanted to just note down my experience and send lots of love to anyone dealing with covid, long covid or the mental health issues around living through a pandemic.

Peace and love

Sam xx

Hello 2022 – chronic pain and negative thoughts

Hi guys,

Firstly, an apology. It has been three months since I last blogged and I am sorry for not being about. I think I have just had so much going on in my head and life and I haven’t had the strength to talk about it too much. I always want to blog and have some lightness and positivity and when I haven’t felt that in the real world, it felt wrong to put out more negativity into an already messed up world!

But it is 2022, and though I am not doing any resolutions (mainly because most people break them and then just feel worse about themselves) I would like to get back into regular blogging. `I know how much it helps me and I have had some really lovely messages from people saying they miss reading my blogs and that they have helped them. So I am going to try and be more regular here. I hope to leave this world just a little brighter than when I came into it and so if I can do this through the blog, then maybe its ok to not always be sweetness and light.

So over the next few weeks I am going to try and catch up a little about what has gone with me over the past few months, but for today I just wanted to chat a little about when New Year doesn’t feel quite so happy. I want to point out now that I am talking about suicidal feelings due to chronic pain in this post, so please don’t read if it is going to trigger you.

As we say hello to 2022, I think everyone is feeling a little worn out, two years of a pandemic will do that to you! And for lots of people, it is an overwhelming time. As you see a million adverts for products to make you a newer, better you. As everyone talks about resolutions, and diet plans and changing things about themselves to be fitter, happier, better, stronger, sexier, blah blah blah, it can be a bit much.

As I start a new year, I think about what will be different for me? And when you have constant, chronic pain, it is easy to feel a little hopeless and think that nothing will be different. It feels exhausting to think about another year in pain. It feels draining and scary. Living with pain that the doctors tell you cannot be fixed means that I do feel overwhelmed at the thought of life without reprieve. And it is hard to feel happy or excited by that.

I don’t want to scare anyone by what I talk about next, and I do want to add in another trigger warning that I will be talking about suicide. I am not in danger, I am medicated, I am going through therapy and I am open with my partner about these feelings, so please do not worry about me. But I do think it is important to talk about the links between chronic pain and suicidal thoughts, or completion of suicide. If this is too upsetting for you to read about then please do skip this blog.

If you are feeling suicidal now, then please stop and get support. If you are in the UK, there is a great list of helplines from MIND here, if you are in another country, then speak to someone you trust or search for support in your area.

 This study states that, “individuals with chronic pain are at least twice as likely to report suicidal behaviours or to complete suicide”. I got a lot of information from a great website Pathways here, the blog is by Ann-Marie D’arcy-Sharpe and is very much worth a read.

She says “When you feel that chronic pain is forever, the future can seem daunting. You start to wonder if you can set goals for the future if you’ll ever be able to function and enjoy your life. It truly can feel hopeless, and this can pose a big risk for suicidal feelings. Being in constant pain is a horrible experience. Knowing that this pain is long term and for some people constant, can make it feel impossible to go on. It’s completely natural not to want to live in pain. Your body and mind are not designed to cope with being in pain regularly. When patients are not given another way to escape from their pain (meaning through treatment), they can feel that there is only one escape route.”

Though I haven’t been blogging here, I have been active on Facebook and Instagram and I know a lot of you follow me on those platforms. I have been sharing about my insomnia and how I am struggling to sleep due to anxiety since I had Covid (I will be blogging about the covid for sure as it was a doozy!!!) and pain. And so I was interested to read that “lack of sleep is one of the highest risk factors for suicide in any person, even without chronic pain. When we don’t get enough rest, our bodies and minds struggle to function. Tiredness can make your mood drop as well as causing you to feel weepy and confused. Fatigue can cloud your judgement and make you act out of character. For many chronic pain patients, sleep is the only respite they get from their symptoms. When they are deprived of this break from their pain, they can feel trapped and the need to find another way to escape their pain can increase. This study explains just how high of a risk factor insomnia is, explaining that frequent lack of sleep is, “linked to a five-fold increased risk of suicide in both the general and chronic pain populations”

So adding together chronic pain and a lack of sleep does make you struggle more and increases your risks. Oddly enough, just reading this has actually made me feel better! That may sound odd but I have felt like I was losing my mind recently. My pain levels are high and my sleep is at an all time low, I feel anxious, sad and hopeless and the turning of a new year has made me feel unsure as to how I can face another year of this. But knowing that I am not alone, that it isn’t just me, has made me feel buoyed that I am just processing these difficult events. I am not going ‘mad’ and I am not going to harm myself.

My brain is processing and working through chronic pain. I recognised that I wasn’t doing so well last year and saw my doctor who prescribed me antidepressants and referred me for therapy. I have been seeing a PTSD and trauma specialist who has experience in working with people with long term health conditions for around 6 months and we are working through a lot of my issues.

I feel no shame in telling you about my medication support and talking therapy support for my mental health, I don’t feel stigma or embarrassment. And I hope that times are a-changing and we are all recognising that every single one of us have issues that we may need a little extra support with! If you are struggling, then please don’t face this alone. Speak to someone you trust, speak to your GP, get help.

So anyway, finding this blog made me see that chronic pain and suicidal thoughts are a problem for a lot of people. But it also really made me think about what we can do to get support and to help ourselves. As always, just a reminder that I am not medically trained and you should always speak to a medical professional for any medical problems. This list is a few things that may help you.

Seek treatment for chronic illness

This may be psychological treatments, physical therapy or medication. Speak to your GP, specialist nurse or consultant about what treatments are available. I have finally been referred to a Pain Clinic after a long time of asking, don’t give up. You are entitled to support.

Meditation

There is a free meditation suggested by the NHS here. They say “With this guided Pain Management meditation anyone can start using meditation as a tool for managing pain. Pain, stress and our emotions are connected, making living with pain difficult physically and psychologically. With meditation we can change our relationship with pain, reducing its impact on daily life. Experience the amazing power of your calm mind!”

Studies say that “pain is a multidimensional experience that involves sensory, cognitive, and affective factors. (This) renders the treatment of chronic pain challenging” it says that meditation and mindfulness significantly helps with pain. I know people feel sensitive when we talk about non-medicated treatments for chronic pain, and I get it. If I could think myself pain free I would!! For me, meditation and mindfulness isn’t about getting rid of the pain, but I have found it helps as one coping strategy amongst many others.

Pain websites

There is a lot of information about living with pain, here are a couple fo websites to check out.
Charity: Action on Pain

Charity: Pain Concern

Pain relief

If over the counter pain relief is not helping, then speak to your doctor about prescription pain relief. Just remember that often pain relief needs some tinkering to get right for you. If your prescription pain killers aren’t helping, then get a review with your doctor to look at dosage or potentially a different type.

Exercise

Believe me, I know that when you are in pain, the last thing you want to do is to exercise!! But studies show that gentle exercise can help psychologically and physiologically with chronic pain. The important thing is to choose an exercise that won’t put too much strain on yourself. This might be walking or swimming or gentle stretching. If you have a long term health condition, it is good to chat with a medical professional before starting out on a new exercise regime.

Mental Health Support

I have been under the mental health team for around six months now, I see a fully trained therapist who has experience in working with disabled people and people with long term health conditions. Speak to your doctor about a referral or search for private therapy in your area.

On the NHS Scotland website, you can work through a self-help guide that uses cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) to help you live with chronic pain.

Speak up

Living with chronic pain can feel super isolating, speak up if you are struggling. That may be to your partner, a friend or family member, but speak to someone you can trust. You can also look for support groups in your area or online. You might want to look for a chronic pain group, or for a group that specialises in your specific illness. Speaking to others makes you feel less alone and can help you feel more positive and find coping strategies.

I suppose my biggest thing to say here is that whatever you are dealing with right now, you are worthy, you are wanted, you are better here. Please reach out if you are struggling with your mental health right now. Put your hand on your chest, can you feel your heart beating? That is called purpose. You are alive for a reason, so please don’t give up.

Peace and love

Sam xx

My head is full and my heart is heavy

“My head is full and my heart is heavy”. This was the only way I could describe how I am feeling to my husband this morning. Full, heavy, weighed down, overwhelmed.

I know that so many people are going through tough times right now, the air feels full of worry and stress, like when you get off a plane in a hot country and you can’t catch your breath. No matter how many deep breaths you take, you can’t seem to get enough oxygen. It is trapped and smothered by anxious thoughts and mild panic.

I wish I could pin point what is making me feel this way, but nothing is ever that black and white is it? It is the many shades of grey inbetween that dissolve the colours of life. Turning the technicolour of glorious life into an old, scratchy black and white movie. I am hopeful for the day that I will step into Oz and my eyes will see colour again.

I have a lot going on, the continuing saga of life with chronic illness, the stupid bloody hernias that haunt me. Then I slipped a disc in my back a few weeks ago that left me bed ridden for a week, it is better but still causing jip. I have a lingering UTI that I am fairly certain is ignoring the antibiotics and just sticking to the stress and keeping warm in my bladder. My awesome daughter left for university a few weeks ago and I miss them dreadfully. My eldest son has moved home with his lovely fiancé whilst they are between houses, my youngest has started college and a new job. Then there is the ‘stuff’, you know work, study, chores, food shopping, cooking, cleaning, walking the dog, taking the cat to the vet weekly as she has damaged her ligaments in her leg, sometimes it all just feels a bit overwhelming.

I feel like running away. I would happily take my husband, kids and friends with me on this escape. But man, life is a lot isn’t it.

I am usually a glass half full person, I can find the silver linings even in the shittiest of clouds. And I do still feel like I am that person. But everything just feels very full at the minute.

A friend told me of a story about a flower that droops and withers, no matter how much it tries to find the sun. And there comes a point where you have to stop blaming the flower for failing to thrive but look at the environment it is in. Without nutrient rich soil, sun and water, the flower will always struggle no matter how cheerful it tries to be.

Now, I know I am extremely lucky and privileged in many ways. I have a nice home that is safe, warm and mine. I have a great husband, kids and friends. I have money in the bank and I am not (too!) stressed about paying my mortgage or bills this month or next. I have food in the fridge and an oven to cook in. I am luckier than most people in the world.

But years of poor health and the mental health struggles it has brought with it has worn me down.

I know I choose to fill my days, I take on things that I probably shouldn’t because I have to prove to myself that I am here and valid and ‘normal’. That I can work and study and do extra projects because ‘this illness won’t stop me!’ And honestly, I love a lot of what I do. But right now, today, my head is full and my heart is heavy.

I want to simplify my life, remove the stuff that I do mindlessly, that wastes time and causes me sadness (instagram reels, news, scrolling through endless hateful internet comments). I am reading a book at the minute called Homesick – why I live in a shed by Catrina Davies about consumerism and simplifying your life and your surroundings.

The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, either immediately or in the long run.

Henry David Thoreau

She quotes Walden by Henry David Thoreau when she reminds us of how it is quicker to walk anywhere than it is to work to pay for the ticket to arrive in style. And this simplifying of life feels very attractive to me right now.

I look at the waste produced each week by me and my family, the stack of boxes plied awaiting recycling collection from the crap we have bought over the internet from companies that don’t give a shit about the environment or the people who work for them. I see the monthly outgoings that seems to get more each month. I feel the weight of the possessions I have collected over my lifetime. And I kind of wish it would just all disappear. That I could live more simply, smaller yet more connected, connected to people I love, to community, to good, to nature, to creativity.

Perhaps it is that I turned 40 this year and suddenly feel the rush of the years gone by and realise how quickly the next 40 years will go. And I wonder how the things we do, the things we buy, the need to live in a bigger house, a better area, whether these things become the chain that holds us back.

If I could snap my fingers, my life would look different. I would live by the sea, close to nature, I would swim and walk and grow vegetables, tend to my chickens. I would throw away my phone and just use one to actually speak to the people I love, I would untether myself from the tangle of social media. I would live in a little house in the woods with my husband, buying little, creating much and feeling more connected to the earth.

Then I wonder what is stopping me?

As I sit here, taking tablet after tablet of the medication that keeps me going, I do start to wonder if I changed my lifestyle, would I improve my heath, my stress.

I wonder how to make my head less full and my heart less heavy.

I wonder if now is the time to make some changes.

Peace and love

Sam xx

Acceptance

I am in the middle of having therapy, it is trauma focussed CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) along side talking therapy. This is to help me with the feelings I have had around years of illness, surgeries and ongoing illness. Though I was nervous going into it, it has been hugely helpful to me. I wanted to talk a little about acceptance today.

In my head, accepting my illness felt like giving in, like losing hope and accepting that my life will always be a bit shit. But in working with my therapist, I am learning about how that warped view is holding me back. Acceptance to me now is about giving myself the freedom to let go of all the negative feelings and learning how to use coping strategies to live with chronic illness in a way that allows me to have the happiest life I can.

I am realising just how much guilt, shame and anger I have carried with me. Guilt in how my illness has effected my family and friends, shame of the imagined failure of my body and anger that I am not ‘normal’. And what I have learnt is how those feelings are holding me back and don’t have any positive outcome.

woman with NG tube and a bag of bile

I have been incredibly poorly for half my life now, starting with ulcerative colitis and leading to multiple surgeries to remove my large intestine, then my rectum and onto life with hernias that cause daily pain and struggle. My first surgery was in 2013 when I had my first ileostomy formed and my last surgery was in February 2020 where I had a lot of complications, including my kidneys shutting down and I nearly died.

Till my last surgery, I was always hopeful. But that hope was a dream of returning to a life with no illness or pain. And so after my last op failed yet again I was told that I had reached the limits of medical science, and that it was now a matter of managing my symptoms and achieving the best quality of life I could with pain and illness. As my doctor said this to me, I felt crushed. I felt that I had no hope any more and that I was being given a long, slow death sentence. I was reeling and didn’t know how I could possibly live like this.

That’s why I started therapy, to help me deal with these feelings of utter hopelessness.

And slowly but surely, it is working. I am letting go of the negativity and beginning to work on making my life the best it can be. I’m questioning myself when that mean spirited voice we all have in our head and telling it to shut up! It isn’t the big things so much, as the little ones.

Accepting that it is ok for me to get a taxi to work. Before I would force myself to get public transport because I refused to accept that I couldn’t do a ‘normal’ thing like getting the bus and then doing a full day at work. It’s almost like I was punishing myself. Now, I get the damn taxi if I need to! And I celebrate the fact that I am well enough that day to go to work.

I accept that I may not ever climb a mountain but that is OK. I may never run a marathon, or cycle for miles, or swim the channel. Before I would beat myself up about these things, so angry that my illness has robbed me of opportunities. But this anger has zero positive outcome, so why I am wasting my time and energy with it.

I can give up these ideas of things that most people in the world will never do and just revel in the things that I can do. I have a job I love, working with my husband. I have wonderful friends, fantastic kids and I am studying Fine Art at university at the age of 40! I have this blog that allows me to connect with people all over the world and offer support. I love to travel both abroad and in the UK in my camper van, I have visited some amazing places around the world. I have a nice home, I am safe and secure, I love and I am loved by some of the most brilliant humans in the world.

I was wasting so much effort worrying about the things that I cannot do that I lose sight of the life that I do have. And it is pretty bloody good.

I’m not 100% there, but every day I am learning acceptance.

I will probably always live in daily pain, have to take many medications every day and not be physically able to do everything that I want to do. But that’s ok because it is the life I have and my illness is just one part of that life.

I love and I am loved.

I think if we can say that, then whatever our other circumstances, we are pretty lucky.

Peace and love

Sam xx

Looking after your stoma: helpful hints and advice

I am doing an event on Facebook premiere with Clinimed about helpful hints and advice for looking after your stoma. I am joined by a ostomy product specialist and a stoma care nurse to answer all your questions about life with a stoma.

Join us on Thursday 15th July at 10.30am on Facebook.

Sam xx

The Gap

I wanted to talk a bit about The Gap. The Gap between what I want to do and what I am able to do and how I am learning about it all the time.

When you have a chronic illness, there is this gap, a space between what you are physically able to do and what you wish you could. And it isn’t something that is often talked about. I suppose because it is such a sore point, it feels hard to admit when you can’t manage to do the things that others can.

For a lot of people there are coping mechanisms, changes in routine that allow them to do a lot of what they want, for others there are definite barriers and limitations and this isn’t easy to accept.

I can only speak about my own personal experience and how my journey is always evolving. I’m currently in the process of trauma focussed CBT and I am looking inwards and figuring out a lot of stuff. About what I want and what I can and cannot do and going through acceptance for some and coping strategies for others.

I have been talking to my therapist and Timm about my frustrations of how I wished my life looked and what it currently does, and this led me to think about The Gap.

There are things I probably won’t be able to do, in my personal circumstances, I have hernias that are currently inoperable. I am in pain almost constantly and physically my body isn’t able to do certain things. I can’t lift anything too heavy, I will probably never be able to surf in Hawaii, or hike through the Burmese Jungle. I probably won’t be able to run a marathon, do the Sheffield Round walk or dance all night in a club. (Just to stress that this is my situation, there are people with stomas who do all these things!) I can learn to accept these things. It’s ok! Also who knows what will change in the future with medical advances, but right now I cannot do very physical activities. This is my Gap.

Sam Cleasby is a Sheffield blogger, she stands with arms folded in front of a brick wall. She has pink hair, a jewelled headband and a floral dress

But you know, there are other things that sit in The Gap that are more mundane. I wish I could just feel the same physically every day. I wish I could know that I was able to wake each morning and not be fatigued, not be in pain, not feel filled with anxiety. I wish I could plan each week and know that I am able to work on Friday in the same way that I work on a Monday. I wish I could get up every morning and go for a swim, head to work, come home and cook a meal and hang out with my kids or friends, then plan a fun filled weekend of walking the dog, meeting mates in the pub, going shopping or just getting household chores done. And right now, I can’t do this. This is The Gap that I find so difficult to accept.

When I look at life like this, it feels awful and hopeless and it is easy to get stuck in that bad place, to wonder how life went so awry from the life you had planned. But I have always been the sort of person who tries to find the silver lining. I am also incredibly stubborn. Ok, so this isn’t the sort of life I expected, there are lots of parts that are very tough. As I talked to Timm earlier, he said something pretty wise.

“We all just live the best life we can. Some days, that’s going to mean our best life is sitting in our pants watching TV because you’re in pain. Sometimes it means we will hang out in the garden because you aren’t able to go out. Sometimes it means having a pint in the hot tub rather than in a pub. But these are all good things!

We are taught we should be living wild, crazy lives but we just need to do what we can to make us happy.”

Life is a learning journey, of figuring out ways to make your wishes a reality, accepting that some things won’t be as simple to achieve but finding coping strategies to make things work for you in your own way, adapting and reacting to changes in our lives and making yourself happy.

There are things that I difficult but I still manage to do them in my own way. I am a student! I went to university at the age of 39 and have just finished my first year of a Fine Art degree. That is something lots of people couldn’t do even in full health! I work running our photography business with my husband Timm, yes I need to work in a different way, I am not full time and I have to be flexible in my working hours. I run this blog, I started one of the very first UK based ostomy blogs, that is pretty special even if I do say so myself. I have done talks about disability all over the world and I am incredibly proud to have been able to help offer support to people all over the world.

Sam Cleasby Sheffield disability blogger

More than any of these things though, I am a kind person. I am loving and loyal, I am a great mum, I am the best wife to Timm. And I am a good friend. I am so amazingly lucky to have a fabulous husband and children and the best friends anyone could hope for. I have a lovely home in a nice place where I can walk my dog in woodland and a park at the end of my road. I have a good life.

I suppose my point is that we all have a gap between what we want and what we have, what we wish we could do and what we can do. And it is easy to dwell on that, but that ease doesn’t lead to happiness. What makes me happy is to think about the beautiful parts of my life and enjoying them. I know I will live with The Gap, but I will live the best life I can with it.

Peace and Love

Sam xx

World IBD Day 2021 – I am not broken

It is World IBD Day today and to celebrate this day, I thought I would write a little about the journey I am on and have been on for so long. After multiple surgeries and when my body is scarred, in pain and struggling, it is easy to feel broken. But I am not broken. I am a survivor.

I am at art college in Sheffield and my practice this year has all been around trauma, especially the medical trauma I have faced. I decided to do a photography project with myself in the frame. I wanted to show a body that may be in the middle of trauma but is also healing, both physically and emotionally.

Sam Cleasby disability activist and blogger sits naked covering her body with her arms, she has an ileostomy bag and is covered in medical tubing

Wrapped in medical tubing, naked and baring my soul, I am defiant, I am fighting, I am a survivor. There are times when I feel so weak and afraid of everything, but this is my anger, my strength, my fight. My stoma and my scars are the war wounds of my life and I will wear them with pride, they are a visual reminder of the battles I have faced and won. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like a win, but I am still here and every survival is a celebration of life.

My body has changed so much over the years, I am currently the heaviest I have ever been, I have hernias that jut from my belly like melons, I am covered in scars and take so much medication every single day. It wasn’t easy to shoot this, to shed my defence layer of clothes and sit naked and vulnerable. But I am so glad I did, I feel empowered and beautiful.

Today isn’t an easy day, I am in pain and the meds have kicked in meaning my head is fuzzy and my words may be a little jumbled, but I am here.

I am not broken.

I am a survivor.

Happy World IBD Day,

Peace and love

Sam xx