Romance and stress

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Hi, it’s me again. The farting one.

I am feeling a bit better now, and just trying to get back to normal. With lots of painkillers.

Right now I am trying hard to get myself and the rest of my surroundings ready for our last wedding party on Saturday. The third – final celebration.
I have been looking forward to it all summer, because in my mind it was also going to be a celebration of the final operation and me being back to my normal self again.
Since I don’t feel quite normal yet it’s not going to be exactly as I imagined, but it will be great anyways. It’s just about changing the expectations of how much I am going to prepare and make amazing things happen. Perhaps I will not be doing a choreographed dance with my girlfriends. Perhaps I will not have made the food and dessert myself. And perhaps I will fart or be embarrassing in other ways. But it will be fun.

And I am so looking forward to celebrating, seeing friends from near and far away, dancing, wearing something glittery and some nice heels.

But of course with a party comes some stress. Even though I try hard to keep the levels down.
That means that this night I have been dreaming about all the things that could go wrong, so in my dream it was 6 pm Saturday night, and I had not ordered food, prepared drinks, washed my hair, or thought about how I was going to fit twenty people around our table.

And the dream went on and on, even though I was up several times. It just started up again. Why can’t the good dreams ever continue like that..?

And speaking about good dreams – I have found a new happy place that I go to before falling asleep. A place much better than the place of fear, angst and dread – and it’s the world of Anne of Greengables. We began watching the box set in the weekend. Alan laughed at first, but he liked it too. And I like him very much for indulging me.
Sometimes something overly sweet, romantic and totally safe is just what the doctored ordered.

And then I can dream on about being a cute, 1920s looking Anne on Saturday.

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News from the embarrassing and awkward dark side

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Back again.
Feels like quite a long time, and when I see the last post with beautiful wedding pictures, it seems even longer.

It’s been exactly a week since I got home from hospital. I was there for only one night, which was nice considering that I shared a 4-bed room this time. With an extreme snorer, an old lady who could not control her cleanse (so so bad..) and a young lady like myself whose healing after the operation had gone wrong (which just made me worry about my healing even more of course).

So it was good to come back home.
For the first days I just waited for the system to work again – to feel a little fart after almost 4 months. It was crazy when that happened. And then imagine you have not pooped for 4 months. That’s some really crazy s..t.
Literally.

And now I know I am supposed to be feeling happy and well that all is over. But I don’t. I am in pain. A lot. And on the toilet. Not just a lot, but all the time.

And it’s one if those things that you don’t say. Out loud, to people or anywhere really.

Bowel problems are not sexy. They can be fun perhaps, as long as you are not the one having the problems, but still, it’s not as easy to talk about as a broken leg or pretty much anything else.

And it’s not that I need or want to talk about it a lot. But the everyday is calling me. There is school, the girls’ routines, Alan’s new job, and our upcoming wedding party for our friends. And I just feel like breaking down a little bit all the time, because I can’t do any of it as well as I want to. Because i can’t just go to the bathroom like a normal person, but because I live my life from there. Day and night. It’s a struggle find a window of twenty minutes picking up the girls from kindergarten. Getting a nights sleep is harder than when the girls were little. And I don’t know how I will manage to feel glamorous or act sane for our long anticipated party.

And when people ask my if I am ok, it’s just so hard to tell that that my ass is on fire. That it is killing me. (Or at least tried to).

I just really hope it gets better soon.

Having an iliestomy was easy compared to this. I don’t miss it. But I was feeling a lot better in my body when I actually had it. How weird. I almost miss it and the simplicity of it.

So that’s how it is.

I am happy, relieved that the operation went well, and I know that even though my body will always be a bit of a mess, it will hopefully get better.

For now it’s just a crappy, shitty, stinky hard time.

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Wedding bliss…

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Tomorrow is the day for the first of my two rescheduled exams, and I can´t say that I am looking forward to it. So what better to do (than read and prepare) – posting some of all our lovely weddings pictures from our two great days in July.

 

We had several photographers on our wedding day, and my friend Michelle was so sweet to do an excellent job for us! Some of these are hers, and some are from our fathers. They are all in one big crazy mess now..

 

Looking at them makes me so happy. I wish I could travel back in time and do it again.

 

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I Love Jolinas legs in this one – she looks so grown-up.

 

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Our cute little girls. They did so well for the ceremony. Just sat nice and still paying attention. Later, for my speech, it was quite a different story – lots of noise and fun – but they had a good time!

 

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And a precious moment when my dad sang a song for me -

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Then off to London! Another awesome party!

 

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I did not do do a choreographed dance with Alan, even though it would have been the coolest. Jolina got to do the jump in stead – and she was well happy. Next time we celebrate I want more dancing.

 

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Two perfect days. I could not ask for any more than this.

 

 

 

 

 

Procrastination and hopefully not jinxing it..

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For the last couple of hours – THIS is what I have spent my time googling. And Oogling I guess.

Not really useful, but in my mind I am counting down the days until my bag is gone. Hopefully gone, I say, cause I still worry that it will stay forever. Perhaps all this longing for it to go away jinxes it, and the doctors can´t reverse the operation…

No! Positive thinking, Karoline. Positive thinking.

And since I feel both I  and Alan got cheated out of anykind of white see-through romantic sexy awesome over-the-top bridal action on the wedding night – or any other night, I will be going crazy in this stuff once I can.

- And of course I could now. In theory. There is nothing stopping me putting these garments on my body. But no. Even though I am proud enough to post a #getyourbellyout picture on Instagram, I still can´t “sex up” a stoma bag. So rather cover it.

But in 24 days I hopefully won´t have to anymore.

Just you wait world, I will be walking around the house in something like this all the time! (Or perhaps not THAT one in particular…There is some wild and crazy stuff out there..)

 

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Summer break sigh

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At last I am back from the long break. I don´t even dare look at how long it actually is since my last post, but it feels like ages.

A lot has happened. Marriage the most important thing for sure. But apart from that it has not been quiet either. I will post lots ans lots (and LOTS) of wedding pictures later, but for now I think I just need to breathe. A long written breath of all the things that are going on inside me.

 

The day after tomorrow it will be 3 months exactly since  my operation. I was supposed to only have the ileostomy for those 3 months (which is NOW), but due to summer holiday and all I will be having it an extra month. That means, if all is well with the healing inside my, as I will go to have checked out in a couple of weeks. If the doctors say ok, then I am off to the surgery table again, hopefully to come back without a bag attached to my stomach. That sounds great, doesn´t it!

Of course it is hard for me to really trust that that will happen. That all will go well, and that no complications will occur. My worrying nature is not dealing with all this very well. Apart from that, there also is the fact that after the operation is reversed my body won´t function as well as it used to. So the even worse taboo-thing like crapping your pants might happen. That is no fun, and also kind of tough on your social life. (All you ladies out there going through crazy hard childbirths with that kind of complications, please feel free to comment and say that it´s really not that bad.) Shit happens. But not a thing to look forward to, when you finally think you will be yourself again. When I imagine myself in a month, all I see is me wearing nothing but bikinis or cropped tops. But perhaps I will not enjoy it that much, if I will be stuck in the toilet all the time.

 

But so far I still have a ileostomy. And I took a picture of it today for the #getyourbellyout campaign. It was in the gym, after showering there after my class – IN PUBLIC – for the first time in these 3 months.

I felt oddly about it.

For one, all the amazing nice comments make me blush and smile.

Secondly I feel that I am such a fake for doing it, since I will (most likely) not have my stoma in a month. So it´s like this weird accessory I borrowed, and then it suddenly gives me lots of attention.

Third – I am sure I would not be coping half as well if my stoma was permanent – like it is for most of the people with it, and which I fear is going to happen to me, if I get sick again.

 

Vanity and the fear of dying. Such simple emotions that both grip me most of the time.

 

One of my old friends sent me a message last night, ending it with the words – “remember you are well and cancer-free” which was nice to hear. Maybe even nicer because she is a doctor. But I really need to remind myself of that, because in my head I still feel sick, worried and afraid of being sick.

I hope it will change when my body feels more like my own again.

 

Sigh.

 

Thanks for listening. Apart from all this life is good. Great. It´s awesome to finally be able to call Alan my husband, and I so enjoy the ring on my finger.

The next post will be less about poop and more about the wedding.

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The weirdest countdown for a long time..

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I don´t know how normal people prepare for a wedding. And with normal, I don´t really know what I mean, maybe just people who can focus only on the wedding. Without having to worry about other things.

 

Those people probably don´t exist, and I feel quite stupid for writing it.

 

What I mean is just – I am getting married in 6 days. 6 days!

 

And I feel like I would have liked to prepare more.

 

Back when we planned the whole thing, decided on a date, now more than 4 months ago, we were just so excited and so happy. And I was looking forward to all this planning, matching napkins and flowers, little wedding presents for all the guests, everything being beautiful and thoroughly planned out – and most of all perfect.

 

Then cancer came along. Cancer does not care about perfect.

 

Suddenly we had worse shit to think about, and the wedding was a weird thought in my mind. Something in the near future, but I could not really grasp it – what if it would turn into the saddest event of all times in stead of being happy and awesome.

Then I had surgery, and the cancer was gone. I was well, even though still in pain and super stressed about my body not really working properly. That pain is mostly gone now, I can wee myself (yay) and I have gotten used to my stoma as well (as used to it as you can get, I guess), and the only sideeffect of it all now, is just that I still get really tired quickly.

So all is well – it´s just that this wedding is happening right now, so soon, and I feel so underprepared. It´s not that I have not made stuff for it, I have done my 2 dresses, some dresses for the girls, I have practised and failed at doing my hair a million times, tried to make  weddingcake tests,  I have even thought about lipstick and nailpolish colour. But  I still just don´t feel really ready.

I don´t feel happy enough.

I imagined the build-up to the wedding would be such a positive, exciting time. So much joy, love and  anticipation. But in stead we have been sad, stressed worried and overexhausted. And even though the immidiate fear of dying right now is gone, their is a huge build-up of anxiety and sadness in me. Just not that much space for happiness, even though it´s all I want to feel.

 

The last couple of weeks we have desperately tried to finish our delayed exams, to not have them hanging over our head for celebrationstime. We have tried to clean, make less mess, prepare the garden so it does not look like a dump when we are having guests over. We have made endless lists of shit to do, and stressed about all the things we have not done yet.

I imagined that we would just be jumping and running around in flowery meadows. Kiss all the time. Giggle over how much in love we are. Practising our amazing beautuful personal vows. And more romantic silly stuff.

Ha! That has not happened.

 

But we do love each other, and we sometimes giggle. And we have sometimes slowed down to do nice stuff. Perhaps even kissed once or twice.

 

It´s just the way it is, especially with what has been happening. Perhaps, if we had no other stress, no cancer and all that filth, I would have been the worst bridezilla ever. Lucky for Alan I have not had the time or the energy for that.  I have not been on a crazy diet, obsessing over wedding menus or if my cake will fail miserably. Right now I don´t even really give a damn that I am wearing a bag of poop under my dress. Yes, it sucks, but that´s the way it is. I am not perfect, and that bag there is a great reminder, that I am just me. That even though I am heavier than before, older, more annoying maybe, and now with a stoma-bag (that does not go well with sexy white bridal underwear, I tell you) then I am me, and appearantly Alan is happy and ok to marry that.

Not it will just happen. As it is. And it will be amazing, gorgeous and great. How can it not. Happiness does not come from matching flowers and napkins.

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Race for Life with my Bestie

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I have this amazing friend – my best friend from when I was 13. We have been through a lot together, and because she lives in London still, I miss her very much.

 

Her way of dealing with my cancer has been to take on pretty much every Race for Life in London she could find. Which means she has been raising money, running her pants off, and will continue to do so – all this summer. For me!

No way of saying how that makes me feel, apart from very grateful,  fuzzy and warm in my heart.

 

I just found out that there is a run the week when we are in London this summer, which means that I can run alongside her. Or huff and puff and stumble alongside her. But anyways, how great is that going to be! She has done all this to fight cancer, to raise money, to support all the victims and survivors,  and then I can actually take part too. It´s going to be awesome.

 

Fuck you cancer, we are coming to get you.

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My homegirl – running for me.