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 STOMAÂ
