Early morning wake up call

 

 

I finally nodded off to sleep

My mind got out of hand

I think up all scenarios

That would keep me from dream land.

Would Tomas misbehave tonight?

Would I misjudge the bag

Or would I change it far too late

And wake up ready to gag

Sorry if it’s too much info

But stoma life is real,

Worrying what I can eat that day

Or should I skip that meal?

Shit in a bag, and belly farts

Is the life that I now lead

So if you want to be my friend

A sense of humour is all you need

Friends are very special

They know you inside out

They embrace your quirks wholeheartedly

Without showing any doubt.

Now back to being in my bed

And in a restless sleep,

I wake 3 hours later

In a bed with poo knee deep.

I jump up quick as lightening

Grabbing many tissues

Why do I have to live like this

Others don’t have these issues.

“F–k boll–ks, sh-t, tw-t”

I couldn’t type the real words

I was too busy washing and changing

After being covered in my turds.

I need to tell the real life trials

The life of an ostomate

It’s not just shitting in a bag

It’s a life of love and hate.

My stoma gave me back my life

I know this to be true

But occasionally I have to remind myself.

That it’s not all about the poo.

TOMAS THE STOMA 

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