I have been keeping family and friends informed of my surgeries etc, and wrote this message that I thought some of you might enjoy (sorry for the length):

Sat morning, and though the all-important Low Residue breakfast (I guess I won't be getting any Kashi cereal) is not due for hours, I am quite awake, having had 2 inspections already, so I thought I'd write up a short eulogy that has been growing in my mind. It is a eulogy to my little stoma, whom I dubbed my "Homie Stomie" and who has now joined my colon in the big GI tract in the sky. I had hoped that the "take-down" or reconnect surgery would involve snipping the connection of the stoma to my skin, reinverting it to "right side out" (since while it was functioning it had been inverted like the sleeve of a shirt), sewing it back together with the other end, and sticking it back in. But no. I found out from my surgeon that in fact the part that was sticking out, the part that formed the actual stoma, got cut off and "discarded" - a euphamistic term for "thrown in the biological waste trash" meaning it probably got incinerated along with the rest of the day's harvest of ruptured appendices, non-functioning gall-bladders, cancerous ovaries and maybe a bit of liposuction residue. But those are all diseased or unwanted tissues. In the same way, after my first surgery my colon, useful as it was for all those years, was in the end diseased and needed to go. But my Homie Stomie had done nothing in its 3 months of existence but serve with loyal diligence. In fact, that little bit of small intestine had actually been doing its quiet unrecognized duty for lo these 52 years before it got yanked into the lime light so to speak. And it rose to the occasion with valience. It took on the new job brilliantly with only the rare (though admittedly painful) complaint when I did foolish things like scarf half a pint of Cooks Farm Double Chocolate Brownie Chunk Ice Cream. And it asked for very little, just the biweekly appliance change. I will say that my Homie Stomie was probably luckier than some (all of whom seem to have quite a variety of names I have found). Mine at least got some serious appreciation. I had no qualms about showing it off with pride to whomever might like to have a look. Two classes of Mount Holyoke bio lab students seemed to find it quite fascinating. The cousins were intrigued. And as for myself, I could be entertained for hours just watching it do its peristalsis thing. It would move about, shrink and swell, do its little stoma dance. OK, I will admit, my first reaction on seeing it was that it looked like the parasitic bot-fly larva that one of my rabbits had embedded in its neck last summer. Now THAT was not a pretty thing. It was about the same size and did the same sort of moving about, the difference being that the opening of the bot-fly was for taking things in, while the opening of the stoma was for letting things out. And the bot-fly I yanked out with horror, while I never felt that way about my Homie Stomie, even when the "letting out" occurred at inconvenient moments like during those early bag change attempts. Not my Stomie's fault, it was just "doing its thing." It could not help it if I had chosen to eat lunch half an hour before deciding to change the bag.

So my Homie Stomie is now gone. I suppose I should be greatful that it was incinerated and not just thrown in the trash to be hauled to some dump. It has more of a Hindu symbolism. It was cremated, not perhaps on the Ganges, but close enough. It served with loyal stoicism and was sacrificed for the greater good. I will take a moment (you can join me if you like) of silence to appreciate all it did. And those of you with functioning colons, take an extra moment to appreciate that quite amazing and somewhat maligned organ...............................................................................................................................

OK, that's done. Now, as in any funeral service, on to the food!!!!!!!!!!
Jenny

Jenny that was great I can't believe you had an ostomy for only 3 months- didn't we go into surgery on the same day? Wow, time flew! Hope everything is going good with you

WE did - March 11. And as you may recalled, part of that time crawled....like when you were so sick and stuck in the hospital and I was so nauseous with dehydration. It's the more recent part that has flown by, funny how that works. And somehow once things are working so well, the bad stuff ends up way back in the recesses of memory. It's a good thing because otherwise no one would ever have more than one child! Well now I am home and except for finally understanding everyone's obsession with butt burn (OOOOWWWWW) I am feeling great.
btw - I love that you used your senior night photo for your new pic. It seems to symbolize your new start - the other one was beautiful, but you looked so sad and pensive.
Jenny

As time goes by and the swelling goes by you'll notice that the rest of your intestine will join in in an earthly recreation of the dance that your dear Homie Stomie is doing amongst the stars. Your belly (especially along the big scar) will happily undulate in unison to the joyous steps Homie Stomiee takes amongst the stardust, every wave an homage to his service and duty to bring you back to health and provide you with a no-fail cocktail party trick.

Raise a glass to Homie Stomie, his life was a productive one.

Suzanne

How super neat to learn that you teach at Mount Holyoke.

All I can say is that my professor, Elizabeth Boyd, never showed us students anything so interesting as "Homie" decades ago when I was a student there.

Good luck with your new plumbing!