I find
that there are a lot of interesting ideas on what a person with an ostomy can
and cannot do. There are a lot of post surgery facets that folks seem to
fixate on: a very specialized diet, activity restrictions, regular
checkups, etc. These are very important while the body is making that
transition, particularly the parts like "don't lift over ten pounds of
weight for three months" after the surgery because this can put a lot of
stress on some of those fresh sutures. The dietary changes, too, are
especially important as your body is adjusting, that the last thing you would want for a fresh ostomy is a blocked-up ostomy. Hell, no one wants a
blocked-up ostomy. The body is going to be swollen in these different
places for quite some time--any kindness we can give ourselves post-surgery is
a good thing.
But these things don't have to be the forever situation. This is not to say that some accommodations
won’t be made, that there won’t be some permanent changes to diet and activity,
but in my experience and in the experience of a few others of my acquaintance
the severity and the specifics vary.
For
example, the ostomy diet swears off roughage of any sort: no leafy greens, anything with seeds, fibrous
vegetables, etc. Makes sense,
really. These contain a lot of fiber that can
thicken stool up, cause gas, and/or otherwise be difficult for the body to
digest. At this point, though, I totally have salad, not
usually twice in a day as a precaution, but my body can handle salad without much issue. Some sources will recommend ostomates
stick with the rules indefinitely; other sources will say stick with it rigorously
for the first six months, then slowly test a food a time to see how it sits
with you. For me, Melvin does not like kale. For some reason, spinach is fine, but kale
can be weirdly painful for me to pass. But
if it were an ingredient in a smoothie, I doubt I would much notice it, apart
from flavor (which I’m also not a big fan of, truth be told). However, I still don’t eat much popcorn
because of how the seeds can tear their way through my system, sharp bits in
the ostomy bag and everything.
Essentially everything that ends up looking pretty much the same way
coming out as it goes in (like corn kernels) doesn’t jive well. Some folks are troubled by strawberry seeds
or cannot stomach more than a cup of lettuce at a time; other folks don’t have
any problem at all with these. We don’t
know until we carefully stretch those limits.
Sometimes, I choose to accept the consequences, if that means I get some of
that delicious caramel corn in the breakroom:
I have met my emotional need and am prepared for the discomfort to
come.
More than
one source has recommended keeping a food journal. Can you remember what you ate for breakfast
yesterday, before you felt nauseous and uncomfortable for a bulk of the
afternoon? Maybe, maybe not, but this
way you can at least start to spot those patterns. I have used MyFitnessPal for tracking online and on their app. At this point, I have a pretty good idea at this point how
my body reacts to different things. Not
everything, certainly, but I have an idea of what things I can eat that do and
do not bother my ostomy. I’m very grateful
that my list of what I can eat is pretty broad at this point. What additional restrictions I place on myself, therefore, are an active decision to follow a diet plan of my choice.
However,
in addition to the overall problem of blockage and/or painful bowel movements,
I also have to keep tabs on how thick or thin my stool is. Too thick and I could have issues with
everything moving through; too thin and I could be losing too much water. Your large intestine does do the bulk of your
water absorption, and I am missing two of the five feet of organ that most
people have. Some foods help thicken
things up: marshmallows and applesauce
have been my go-tos, sugar free jello now.
Some foods help thin things out: juice
of some kind tends to be a winner for me. For my body, a keto diet tends to lend itself toward having looser stool,
which I don’t mind because I drink a lot of water to replenish it AND it makes
cleaning out the bag a lot easier, letting the liquid roll out instead of
squeezing the most disgusting piping bag into the toilet.
But what
about activity? Can one still go to the
gym or build muscle or whathaveyou with an ostomy? Of course!
Are there some modifications to keep in mind? Also yes.
But this, too, is going to be specific to the individual, what their emotional
and physical limitations happen to be.
There are some aspects to bear in mind:
it’s not particularly comfortable to lie on a plastic ring surrounding
that sensitive part of you, a few layers of plastic and cloth between your
intestines and the world. More urgently,
though, there’s a hole punched into your abdominal wall—that is bound to affect
you core strength, in both general weakness as well requiring some other potential
modifications in how one holds equipment or what exercises are used.
For myself,
I have done free weights, machine weight lifting, Zumba, yoga, and lap swimming,
all with an ostomy. I can absolutely do
these things. But I do have to be particularly conscientious
of what my body is telling me. It’s a tough
balance, really, between being aware and being hypervigilant. I need to listen but not obsess, where I might spend so
much energy listening that I don’t end up doing much anything out of fear. So, in lifting weights, for example, I will
go about this activity as one might normally.
The only difference is I am internally watching my abdominal muscles for
any sign of discomfort. Pain is an
important indicator, for sure, however in the context of working out, some strain
is expected. Shaking
muscles, that’s good, but outright pain is a strong indicator that I need to
stop whatever it is I am doing and at the very least lighten the load, likely
consider how my body is positioned if I need to adjust that, too, if I don’t
stop the activity entirely. With Zumba,
there is a lot of different movement involved, and mostly there is not an issue
any of the movement, excepting any activity that involves doubling in half very
quickly which I do not do with the same enthusiasm as other movements. Yoga has a couple of different modifications
that I need to keep in mind with any action that takes place lying on my
stomach. The bow pose is one in
particular that I am decidedly uncomfortable with, where one lies on their
stomach and grabs their ankles behind them or otherwise lifting the legs and
arms forward in more of a “Superman” style of things. This puts a lot of pressure directly on
Melvin. What I end up doing for these
moves is either choosing to stay in child’s pose or resting gently on my
stomach. I don’t mind being the only
person not doing the pose in these cases.
Lap
swimming might seem the odd one out of the group. Yes, I can go swimming with my ostomy. Yes, I do have a plastic bag full of poop and
air strapped to my side as I do so, but otherwise there is no different than it
was before. This activity was safe
before and is safe, still, just with that background concern. Well, that and one more thing: it’s really odd to have something inside the
bag when I’m swimming. I tend to empty the
bag right before swimming to avoid the sensation. When I’m swimming freestyle, any liquid in
the bag will slosh left to right as my body twists along with the stroke, just
a bit delayed from my body’s momentum. This
is even worse when there is air in the bag.
Try taping a partially filled balloon to your side and swim a lap—it gently
sloshes back and forth with the body, unconcerned with what the rest of your
body is doing. It feels rather weird. It’s not painful, just weird.
The thing
is, I’m actually able to do more now with the ostomy than I was able to without
it, because my health has been so much better with it. My colostomy has allowed me to do more than
it has limited me. Isn’t that something?
My colostomy empowers me to do more than I could before I had it, not less.
My colostomy empowers me to do more than I could before I had it, not less.
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