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A new low

Today I had the test that I have always hoped I would never have to have. The defacating pouch-o-gram. Aka the shit while we X-ray you test. 

You're probably reading this completely horrified. The thought of having to poo in front of other people, strangers, is well, quite frankly unthinkable. But I'm afraid that's what I had to do this morning. 

The test is used to help the surgeons determine my pouch function. To know whether it really is a truly naughty pouch as we all believe (which may mean having to go back to having a StomašŸ˜¢) or if it's just playing up but will get better with time. 

I was gowned up and taken down to the X-ray department. I really didn't know what to expect other than that they would fill my pouch up and then X-ray me whilst I pooed. The details didn't get explained to me prior to the test so my mind went crazy trying to fillin the gaps, imagining all sorts. 

I was taken into the X-ray room and they went through my details and asked by the radiographer if I was pregnant. Really? " You must be kidding!" I told him. Do you think I have energy for sex? I wanted to say. I can barely climb the bloody stairs let alone get jiggy at the moment. To cover their arses incase I was fibbing I had to sign a statement to that effect and then they explained the procedure. 

I sat- there were three people present. The doctor, the radiologist and the radiology assistant. Now the assistant- she was fantastic. From the north-east originally she was chatty and friendly. She put me at ease and tried to make light of what was a pretty uncomfortable situation. She said that they were the poo people and that this was an everyday thing for them and not to be embarrassed. She said it was a conversation killer at parties when she talked about her job though! 

There were three syringes laid out on a tray. One had a white watery substance in it, the second was thicker, more porridge like and the third contained contrast to make it all show up on the X-ray. 

I laid on my side, knees up to my chest while they lubed me up and inserted the syringes. I then had to stand up (on a mat incase of leaks I noticed) while they got out the loo. It was really more of a bin with a lid, complete with the yellow contaminated waste bag. It was placed by the X-ray machine and then I was told to sit and do my business. 

As I mentioned in a previous post I either have explosive bowel motions or these slow drip, drip ones that take forever. Today was the latter. So I'm sat there with it drip, dripping out conscious that behind the screen three people are watching me and taking photos (ok, X-rays) of me doing it. 

After about 5 minutes the doctor said that we were done and the assistant came out and started to get me a pad to wear back to the ward. "I'm not finished, there's still loads in there!" I found myself crying out. Why, oh why would I want this torture to carry on for one minute longer than necessary? I could have kicked myself. But they told me they had what they needed and that I could get ready to go back to the ward. 

So that was it. The test I had been dreading since it was first mentioned to me months ago was done. And truth be told, it wasn't that bad. I've had colonoscopies where I've felt more violated than I did today. The lovely northern lady definitely helped a lot and I try to tell myself not to give a shit (although today that was the complete opposite of what I had to do!)

This illness is crap. The tests and treatments can be degrading. But as a friend pointed out to me, the people that have to watch you, that have to poke tubes into my bum and examine the contents of my bowel and bladder- now they're the ones you should feel sorry for!

NB x 

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