If you would like to get in touch with David, please reach out to info@CDHF.ca
*Important: This is an opinion piece. This information should not be used as a substitute for the medical care and advice of your physician. There may be variations in recommendations and treatments that your physician may recommend based on individual facts and circumstances.
That was the date that will forever change my life. That was the date and time of my surgery. It finally happened.
Crohn’s disease had fought back. I was having a flare so bad that it needed to be removed from my body. I had lost 30 lbs in about 3 weeks and was in constant pain. As a result, I underwent a pretty standard procedure, at least that is what my GI doctor and surgeon re-assured me. The procedure was called a right-hemicolectomy. I had 8 cm’s of my ileum (small intestine), my appendix and about 10 cm’s of my colon removed from my body. The surgery itself took a little over 3 hours; however, the worst was yet to come.
Following the surgery, much like any surgery, you are required to rest and recover. August 15th was a Sunday, so on August 16th, my nurse entered my room and said: “you look as a stiff as a board, are you okay? When was the last time you walked?”. I looked at her and said, “yesterday before the surgery…I don’t plan on moving until this dick tube is removed” (for reference, I had a catheter put in, which is horrid. I would not wish this fun on anyone). So, being the baby I am, she removed it for me a few hours later and re-asked when I was going to get out of bed and move. The first step out of bed was the worst. I have never felt so weak and pathetic in my life. It definitely took a hit on not only my ego but also my physical well-being. Imagine, a man who could deadlift 415, squat 355 and bench 230 be brought to needing a nurse’s aid and a walker to get out of bed…it was devastating, let alone painful. I managed to walk to the bathroom (about 1.5 meters away) before basically collapsing and needing help back into bed. By the end of day one, I eventually did walk the hospital’s hallway, very slowly, dragging my feet, with the nurse’s assistance, and a chair rolled behind me; for when 10 meters resulted in a rest.
On day two, family started to visit, which was great, it brought up my spirit and made me feel more human. I was able to walk a little bit further and without any assistive aids. I was still exceptionally weak and in quite a bit of pain. Though, at this point I started to decrease the amount of painkillers I was taking (hydromorphone was the drug of choice, which might help with pain but made it hard to go to the bathroom, so it was a double-edged sword). Day three was more of the same, but this time I was able to travel outside, this really helped with my psychological well-being. Being locked in a hospital feels gloomy, depressing and as if no end is in sight. Being able to go outdoors changed that: my appetite started to improve, and I started to feel psychologically better.
This leads us to day four: release day. At 10 am, I proved to my nurse and surgeon that I was no longer having fever spikes (which I did every day prior: and is also quite common with this form of surgery), was eating and able to go to the bathroom and pass gas from the bottom (this sounds weird, but this about it logically: the surgery is to bring two points of intestine together, if I wasn’t that means something was not working or working incorrectly).
From day 5 to now (I write this on day 8 of the recovery process), everyday I have been able to eat a little bit more, move a little bit further, do a little bit more with my day and have less pain overall. Some foods cause an increase in gas, which is uncomfortable so that is a process to learn, but overall, in a week’s time I’ve made substantial improvements. By far the worst side effect still to date is the CO2 gas provided during the surgery, which is only removed from passing gas from the bum. Not only is it uncomfortable, but it travels through the body; my shoulders and neck have never experienced such a large burning pain before. But, at day 8, the amount is far less and is much more manageable.
As an aside, this surgery could not have come at a potentially worse time. I had just begun a master’s program a month prior. My supervisor knew everything that was going on about my health: which was hard to divulge since I barely knew this woman; but, when I informed her about the surgery, I was promptly forced to withdraw. This was devastating at the time. But now, looking back, it may be for the better, for a chance to grow as an individual and to try other avenues. In previous blogs, I’ve made it evident that I work in exercise, nutrition, and the health sphere. Potentially, by not pursuing this master’s program, I can work to spread more practical applications with the lay and IBD community. I look forward to what my future holds.
At the beginning of this article, I wrote how Crohn’s had fought back. Well, this is me fighting back. I haven’t given up, this surgery has put my life into perspective and given me a chance to lead a quote on quote, more normal life, whatever that means. In a weeks time, I’ll be able to begin back with light activity in the gym, some light resistance training, and cardio. I can’t wait to get back to what I love.
I wrote this blog with the intent of sharing my experience with the surgery, recovery and my mental well-being. Crohn’s and IBD is a large part of my life, for many years I let the disease dictate what I do and how I do it, I felt helpless. With this surgery, I feel as though I am leveling the playing field (I use the term leveling since I am still recovering as I write this).
If you are struggling with IBD, don’t be hesitant to reach out, I would love to help at any capacity I can.