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It just occured to me to wonder about my care. Cause the jpouch...you know...can be messy. And need special attention. Has this thought ever occured to anyone else? I'm young and can take care of myself now but to think of being old and having these things and need someone else to care for them or clean up after them is humiliating.
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Old people with colons are messy, and that could actually be the least of one's worries in getting old. One of my former neighbors, who is in his late 70s and has Alzheimer's Disease, was just asked by his family to give up driving. The reason why is he drove to a nearby town to visit family and could not remember how to get home, got lost, and had to call for help (or someone who found him called for help). He has probably driven that route a thousand times in the last 50 years. I know the route that he drove and I have driven it myself to that neighborhood many, many times.

Bottom line is that there are a million things to worry about with respect to growing old and being messy is just one of them.

By the ways you have to make it to old age before you can worry about any of these things and there are no assurances that anyone will. Although I have an IRA, I seriously wonder whether I will ever use any of that money, unless it is for medical treatment. I doubt I will ever retire, and I doubt making it to such an old age as to need to spend any time worrying about these things.
It's funny you mention this. I've also thought a bit about this myself, but more so when I had the ostomy.

But I do wonder; since there are very few octogenarian pouchers, what happens to us as we age? Will we have control issues? If we are in nursing care, our skin needs would be much greater than the average patient.

But I have more than enough to worry about today rather than something that might happen in 40 or 50 years. *LOL*

But, like CTBarrister, at this point I wonder if I'll ever retire. Stuck working for life. Smiler
Believe me, caregivers of the elderly have pretty much seen it all, and having fecal incontinence is nothing unusual as we age. Why do you think there are somany commercials for incontinent briefs and pads out there?

It is something in the back of my mind, but not something I dwell on. I try to enjoy today and assume things will be OK tomorrow.

Jan Smiler
Also, what you have not considered is that most likely your way of thinking will be different when you are older. The brain ages and our thought processes change. How you think and feel today, while young, will not be the same in your elderly years.

This might be a comfort to you; I heard a well-regarded CR surgeon speak in Los Angeles. His belief was that jpouchers will do better in old age, with continence issues, because our sphincters get more exercise, and are better-toned than the average colon person.

Sue Big Grin
Thanks. It is the mess of going for me that I hate. Its like an all the time reminder of how close to dying I came. I have to clean the bathroom basically when I'm done somtimes. And then I thought...oh man...this is private right now and no one even knows it happens that way. Smiler

But oh well. I guess. One day at a time. Thanks for the replys
Holly, your husband is a winner! Think I'll have a sign made....or add it to my Advanced Directive......"Tired of wiping my butt?....Take me outside and hose me down.....just be sure the water is warm before you do so!". I'm sure a good plumber can link the outside faucet up to the hot water source of my house. Then, it will just need a "mixer"! At least this will insure I get out of the house/bed several (if not more) times a day!
Just be careful about how public the hosing is, because public displays of nudity are generally illegal and can get you charged with indecent exposure or some other semi-bogus criminal charge made due to your neighbor's complaint.

For some reason this discussion reminds me of my neighbor who passed away last year. I live in a condo complex which has common grounds, and things are not so private as anyone is free to enter the lawn in my backyard, but it is semi-private in that the back of my condo faces the woods and tidal wetlands, where there are no buildings. My late neighbor, a woman who was in her 90s, had lived on private property all of her life before moving next door to me, and she could never get used to what our neighbors did on the common grounds. One time I was sitting with her in her living room and talking to her and as we looked outside, a neighbor walked by her unit's side window with his dog, which stopped and suddenly took a massive dump outside this lady's window. I remember her angrily saying to me, "does he have to let that dog take a **** right outside my window???????" about 5 times. I had to explain to her the concept of common grounds. I don't think she really understood it. To her, it was her property.

I sometimes like to walk around in my condo naked or in my underwear but I have to be real careful that all my blinds are drawn because really anyone can walk by my windows at any time. Lots of my neighbors have small dogs that need to be walked, and they tend to walk them near my condo building grounds.
Last edited by CTBarrister
Liz, IRA = individual retirement account.

There is enough in there right now to support about 2 years' worth of a modest retirement for me (also adding in my projected social security income), and also assuming I do not need to withdraw money to pay for surgery for a permanent ileostomy, to revise the pouch or for some other reason between now and my retirement (which will never happen).
Been thinking about this more and more as well. I tend towards Shaz's outlook - I'd rather have someone empty my bag then empty my diapers constantly. I had an aunt in the nursing home with an ileostomy and she never reported any problems with the care of it.

Hopefully, though, I'll be caring for my own j-pouch or ostomy when I'm 95!
Ha, if only that was possible! They don't use chronic urinary catheters unless it is an absolute necessity. That is because of the high risk of serious urinary tract infections. So, back to diapers...

But yeah, my grandma had Altzheimer's (confirmed by brain biopsy after death). Not sure being smart or exercising my brain matters, but hoping they get some new data before then... I know my cognitive abilities on short term memory are not what they used to be since menopause.

Jan Smiler
My paternal Grandfather had Alzheimer's Disease. It effected his short term memory mostly. He actually did not have a clue that he was institutionalized at the time (this back in the 1990s). I would ask him if he knew where he was and he gave me replies that were somewhat elaborate, but completely incorrect. At the same time, he could give me very coherent and detailed explanations of experiences he had while serving in the United States Navy in 1926.

Every time I visited Grandpa - with whom I was very close as he was my daycare provider as a kid - I would ask him if he knew who I was. Almost every time he correctly stated my name. A few times he thought I was my father (my father has a youthful appearance for his age, looks like me and is the same height as me).

Grandpa ultimately died of an internal hemorrhage. When he was rushed to the ER and examined by the ER doctor, he was asked how he felt. His answer: "Doctor, I am 90% gone." He died shortly thereafter. When I heard that those were his last words, I knew it was 100% consistent with something he would say in that situation, assuming he heard and understood the question. It's how he would have answered the same question before he had Alzheimer's.

The process of Alzheimer's is tough to watch because there are bizarre fluctuations in the lucidity of the patient. Grandpa had good and bad days. On the good days he could give me detailed recitations of events occurring 70 years earlier. On the bad days, he was either unresponsive, and strangely detached, or he would engage in a lot of incoherent babbling. I would have no idea what he was talking about sometimes on these bad days.
Last edited by CTBarrister
In my French step-family the 'Mammie' (great grandma) was hospitalised at 93 for various ailements, I was in the same hospital for sepsis and a cystectomy...so I would pop up to visit her daily...the conversations were enlightening...she talked about the past (1920's-today), friends and family and told me that they all thought that she had altzhiemer's...but that she didn't, it just made life eaiser for her to allow them to think so...So while she was giving me elaborate receipes and telling me about her 12kids (yup, 12 live births, as many miscarriages etc)one of her daughters came in, speaking loudly, over-pronouncing, making wild hand gestures and nearly screaming into her ear, "Ma, do you know me? I am..."...she played dumb, "who are you? Do I know you? What do you want from me?" and then would wink at me and give me a quick smile...
She had no diapers, ate, drank, danced and basically participated in every aspect of life until 6 months before her death at 93++...cooked, baked and loved all of us with tons of humour and generosity...and she did not have altzhiemers, just a wacky sense of humour!
I hope that we can all age as well as she did...and die as beautifully...Surrounded by dozens of loved ones...now that is how I want to go out.
Sharon
ps, I figure with the k pouch, I can just be hooked up and worry about peeing elsewhere
In the early days of Alzheimer's Disease, my Grandfather knew something was wrong with him. He would take questions as very personal challenges, and when the answer would not readily come to him, he would start swearing a stream of profanities and say to me, "my [bleeping] head is full of marbles!"

But you could keep Grandpa in good spirits by talking about the "good old days". He served in the US Navy during the 1920s, on the USS Oklahoma which was sunk in the Pearl Harbor Attack in 1941. He could tell you anything you wanted to know about that ship.

Grandpa died 13 days shy of his 90th birthday. He was aware of, and proud of, the approach of his 90th birthday in the months before he died. It saddened the entire family that he did not make it to 90.

I wanted to deliver the eulogy at his funeral, but my father talked me out of it.

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