I had a bad day. Well, to be more specific; I had a bad night, therefore I had a bad day. It was the last night before Matthew left to go back to England, so we stayed up till about 3 talking nonsense and having a great time. I then woke up around 5am to find my bag had burst, there was output everywhere, hence the appropriate title, “shit happens.” I’ve never felt so humiliated. Have you ever had that feeling when you feel like a child and you’ve done something wrong? I felt like this, but coupled with crippling embarrassment and humiliation. Here I am, a 19 year old teenager, in bed with her boyfriend and I’ve literally shit the bed. I’ve never felt so small in my life, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and never uncurl. I think the combination of it being early in the morning, me having no sleep, having Matthew in the bed and knowing that this was the last night before he left just had me feeling extremely sorry for myself. I gathered my stoma products together and went to the bathroom, cleaned myself up, had a freezing cold shower, put a new bag on, sat down and cried my eyes out. You see, I’m usually a control freak, I don’t like having things done for me, I’m too independent. I also don’t like things happening to me that I have no control over. Having my bag burst made me feel so helpless, so dirty and disgusted in myself. I know I couldn’t have done anything about it but I just detest the fact that I let it happen. I quietly went upstairs and got some more bed sheets and came back down, all the while holding my bag to try and heat the glue up to make it stick more, trying to see through the haze of teary eyes and trying to wipe my nose without hurting my new nose piercing, I was a mess. It was then that Matthew woke up, saw me struggling and took everything from me. He pulled me into his arms and calmed me down, told me there was nothing to be embarrassed about. His words were; “Roisin, look what you’ve overcome. You’re the bravest person I know. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about” he changed my bed for me while I went to get a tissue, I got myself some new pyjamas and he tucked me back up into bed. Although I had a bad night, I’m not going to let it phase me. I’m a strong, brave, independent woman, who has overcome something I would never wish upon anyone. Accidents happen and why should I be so humiliated when it’s something out of my control? Although I’m not in uni, I’m learning everyday. Last nights lesson is that I need to accept that I can’t always be in control of what happens, I just need to understand that if it’s good; it’s a memory and if it’s bad; it’s a lesson. This stoma saved my life, why should I detest something that allowed me to live? Without it I wouldn’t have been lying in bed with Matthew in the first place. Yes, it was humiliating, but it’s not the end of the world. Shit does happen and I need to learn that I have no control over things like this, it’s simply life teaching me how to live. So yes, I had a bad day, but it’s not a bad life. I’ve got to remember to take the good out of every situation.
“rock bottom is just good solid ground and a dead end street is just a place to turn around.”