It’s been such a great week, made all the better because my stoma has been behaving so well (dare I even mention this and jinx it?).
I haven’t needed to take any laxatives since my colonoscopy. I know a lot of people with stomas get the opposite issue. But that’s generally related with ilesostomy, not colostomy.
I very rarely get diarrhoea. Never say never. But it really is a rarity.
I do however get constipated regularly. It’s possible that I eat totally and utterly the wrong foods. And I’m a terrible chewer, which I imagine plays a part in my slow digestion.
But since my colonoscopy, and then going down with that rotten virus straight after, which by the way, I’m 99.99% sure was actually covid…my first ever covid infection come to that!!
It tested negative on the tests, so I didn’t even get to join in the lateral flow positive test photos that I saw the entire way through the pandemic.
So not only did I get my first and only covid, while it was completely out of fashion, it didn’t even have the decency to bother showing up on a test. The cheek of it.
What makes me think it was covid? Well I was dog rough, really rough, and I lost taste and smell (and still have!!).
Plus a few friends were ill at the same time as me. As were their whole families. And although all were ill, only a couple in each household were positive on a test. That’s lateral flow tests for you.
Anyway, the good news is I’m feeling much better now and my bowels are behaving remarkably well.
So you might think it’s the perfect time to get out and about and enjoy myself.
And yes, it is, but, and it’s a big but…
…the loss of taste and smell (actually, it’s the loss of smell that’s crucial here) means that I feel destabilised, insecure and downright uncomfortable out in the world.
My sense of smell is vital for me to interact with others. I need to know at all times, constantly scanning and checking for signs of leaks.
*the leaks I mean are very rarely physical ones. I have had a few incidents of pancaking, which is where the poo finds its way under the adhesive pad and pushes out of there. This will cause smell and mess. But the leaks I refer to in general are not actually leaks, but rather, filter failures. For reasons known and at times, unknown, the filter stops working and smell is leaked from the bag. This has happened on many occasions. It’s not as devastating as a physical leak, but emotionally it’s incredibly distressing. It unnerves me, and at times the fear of filter failures consumes me.
No one wants to be smelly, no one wants to have the finger of shame pointed at them, and the risk of ridicule.
So with no sense of smell I feel incredibly vulnerable. My feelings of confidence evaporate. And I am far more reluctant to venture into the unknown.
My only hope is that Chris isn’t suffering from loss of senses at the same time, God, that really would be game over. Time to stay at home.
So you see, even with being as happy, and as at peace and brimming with stoma confidence and joy as I am, there can be a chink in the armour.
I’ve no idea how long it’s going to take my senses to return. But I really hope it’s very soon.
A few things I do if I’m going out alone senses-less;
Change my bag just before I leave the house. So it’s as fresh and as intact as possible.
I spray myself with perfume to the point of overload. Smelling utterly overwhelmingly perfumed like a walking Lush store.
Plus I wear loose fitting clothes for minimal leak risk.
It’s all I can do to protect myself as best I can. I guess what I’d prefer to do would be to stay at home and hide. Because, let’s face it, it would be so much easier than risking embarrassment. But staying home isn’t really my thing is it.
I don’t want to waste a day, an hour or a minute of my time on fretting about the what ifs.
Friday I got myself dolled up to meet a friend, and then after to go to an appointment.
I had intended to wear a dress. But the appointment got cancelled. Therefore I wouldn’t be out for as long expected, I decided to wear jeans.
Yes, it’s a risk, yes the fear is ever present. But I trusted my friend to kindly tell me if I was smelling at all.
Top from Ralph Lauren, Jeans from Tesco, Shoes from Gucci.
I wasn’t out that long, and I had changed my bag about 10 minutes before I left the house, so I was fairly confident that I’d be okay.
It’s such a strange situation because I love getting out and about. I just have this nagging, deep sense of anxiety and wariness of leaks that will occur and I’ll be completely unaware.
It was a flying visit to catch up with my friend. But it was the longest I’d been out alone since before my colonoscopy and virus.
But I’m glad I went. I really can’t face the thought of letting my stoma decide what I get to do. For me personally, it would defeat the object of the exercise. My stoma gave me a chance to stay here and live a good life. And for me, a life cooped up, fearful of going out, isn’t an agreeable option.
Saturday came round so fast, time is passing in a blur at the moment.
We were booked to go back to Arros QD in London to meet up with my cousin Emma and her husband.
I gave the booking details to Chris because I can’t read the font properly, and we turned up 2 hours late to meet my cousin Kerrie a few weeks ago.
I have dyslexia and dyscalculia which means I can often struggle with numbers. Put the numbers in a font I find tricky and what you get is us turning up hours after the actual booking time.
I keep reading the time on this booking confirmation as 3.30pm. I have now relinquished my role of trip organiser.
I booked it and sent it to Chris to get us there on time. :)
Anyway, thankfully this lunch date went far more smoothly.
I wore a dress, I find dresses so much more comfortable than anything else. The risk of pancaking or filter failure is almost, very close to, zero. It’s never going to be 100% guaranteed but it’s the best option I have.
And the upside is, I really like dresses anyway. If I didn’t, then life would be somewhat different.
But I count my blessings where I can, and I do love a good frocking. :)
Dress from Zara, Belt from Gucci, Boots from Holland Cooper, Bag from Dior.
The food at Arros is the best Spanish food I’ve ever had. And I go to Spain every few weeks or so.
The owner of Arros, Quique Dacosta, is the holder of eight Michelin stars.
And the food at Arros in Mayfair is as equally exceptional.
We arrived on time, which was great. I had a mild anxiety issue the night before we went, and I’m pretty sure it was to do with wanting to be on time.
This bread is so good it’s worth booking to go for that alone. :)
I had the Valencian paella ~ without the rabbit. I love that it has vegetables and chicken. It tastes sensational…although I didn’t actually get to taste it this time. But the texture was amazing and I was happy with that. :)
My perfect day. Family/friends (Emma and Steve are both), and good food. What more could anyone ask for.
Our baby boy popped in to say hi, he hadn’t seen Emma and Steve in ages, so as he was in London he came in for a drink and a spoonful of paella.
Chris and Steve were there but I didn’t think to take any photos of all of us.
We decided to be very bold and try the Gorgonzola cheesecake…yep, you’re are reading me correctly, a dessert made from blue cheese.
I tried it but I’m not going to be much good at describing it as all I got was texture, but as textures go it was very pleasant. The others have assured me that it’s incredibly good. The sweetness is balanced perfectly with the slightest hint of blue cheese flavour coming through. A surprising and delightful dish.
The paella is cooked on a wood fired stove, which really adds depth of flavour to the food.
We had a very leisurely lunch. It’s very chilled and relaxed there. The staff are attentive and knowledgeable. The rest of the customers are mostly Spanish, which is wonderful. With the sun shining and the conversations around us in a beautiful language, it felt like we’d gone on holiday. It was perfect.
After we said our goodbyes to Emma and Steve, we headed to the shops…no, not for me, I know this is probably a shock, but I want for nothing. ;)
But Chris wanted new shoes. I find his shopping style fascinating anthropologically speaking.
When I go shopping I like to touch and feel everything, even the things I’m not even directly looking at, I’ll be feeling everything all at once. My eyes and senses immersed in the process.
He went in tried on one pair of shoes, asked what colours it came in and then bought all the colours, and then we left. I’d barely even sat down.
I’d gone back to the car to change into a more comfortable walking boot (not walking boots as in the hiking variety). I don’t think I actually really needed to because the man shoe shopping experience was over pretty quickly.
We had the most amazing day. I asked Chris to sniff me every now and then, the lucky fella! But I was fine, the filters held up well.
I’m so glad I didn’t cancel. That panic experience the night before had given me cause for concern, and it would have been far more easy and comfortable to have said I’m not going. But that sense of comfort would have been quickly eroded by the disappointment of missing out.
Feel the fear and do it anyway. :)
Then Sunday Chris said he’d like to take me on a surprise day out.
Agreeing to this does come with some trepidation. Chris can do these amazing, elaborate, incredible things. Both in presents and experiences…but also, sometimes I just have to stare at him and think what the actual fuck is this!?!
So, yes, most likely it’s going to be a fabulous event. But in the back of my mind I have the list of weird things he thought I might like. Hahaha hahahaha
I approached the day out with cautious, yet hopeful optimism.
…Mainly because it was just a really lovely thing to think of me. He saw something on Tiktok, and thought I’d enjoy it. I think it really is the thought that counts. It’s very romantic too.
So as long as it’s not rock climbing - in Ferragamo sandals again, or looking at used car parts, or steam engines, I think we’ll be all good.
Top and Jeans from Tesco, Shoes from Gucci.
Chris took me to the Emmaus Center in Cambridge.
*The history of Emmaus started in France shortly after the Second World War, when homelessness was a big issue.
The history of Emmaus began in Paris in 1949 when the first Emmaus community was founded by Father Henri-Antoine Grouès, better known as Abbé Pierre. He was an MP, Catholic priest and former member of the French Resistance who fought to provide homes for those who lived on the streets of Paris.
One night, a man called Georges was brought to Abbé Pierre after a failed suicide attempt. Georges had been released after 20 years in prison, only to find his family unable to cope with his return home, leaving him with nowhere to go.
He turned to the Abbé for help, but instead Abbé Pierre asked Georges to help him, building houses for the homeless mothers who came looking for his support.
Georges became the first Emmaus companion, living with Abbé Pierre and helping him to build temporary homes for those in need, first in the priest’s own garden, then wherever land could be bought or scrounged. He later said:
“Whatever else he might have given me – money, home, somewhere to work – I’d have still tried to kill myself again. What I was missing, and what he offered, was something to live for.
The history of Emmaus in the UK starts in 1989 when Cambridge businessman Selwyn Image was volunteering at a soup and sandwich shelter in the city. He was keen to find out what he could do to help from the people who were using the shelter.
In one particular conversation, a homeless man shot down every idea that Selwyn had. Increasingly frustrated, he asked: “Well, what do you want?” The man responded: “I would have thought that would have been obvious to an intelligent man like you. I want somewhere where I can work, where I feel I belong, and where I can recover my self-respect.”
Then, in a sentence that would change Selwyn’s life forever, the man said: “And what are you going to do about it?”
Selwyn remembered some work experience he had done 30 years previously in Paris, when trying to brush up his French for a language exam. It was at a social enterprise that provided a home and work to people who had experienced homelessness, and it seemed to provide just what this man was asking for.
Not knowing if Emmaus even still existed, the next day Selwyn went to the library and picked up a Paris phone book. He managed to reach Abbé Pierre, told him he would like to open an Emmaus community in Cambridge.
Since the first community opened in the UK in 1991, Emmaus has grown quickly. There are now 28 communities spread across the UK, with a further five groups currently working to establish new communities. The UK is now the largest Emmaus movement outside of France.
Why did Chris think this would be somewhere I’d love to go?
Well, the Emmaus community in Cambridge is fabulous, it has their flagship store and it’s a wonderful place to visit and pick up table scaping!
I didn’t know anything about Emmaus before Sunday, and nor had a lot of people, but a wonderful lady, who likes a good rummage through treasures as much as I do, put it on her Tiktok and Instagram and she’s sent the place viral!!
I put my visit there on my Instagram Stories and 6 friends contacted me to say they’d seen it on Tiktok and wanted to go too.
I love everything about the concept.
Housing homeless people is vital, but giving people a sense of self worth with employment, housing, companionship and community is essential.
There were such a lot of wonderful finds to be had on Sunday! I was absolutely delighted Chris thought to take me.
From now on if I’m going to have a clear out in the house I will be dropping it to any of the Emmaus facilities, they have them all over the UK.
Unlike some other charity organisations, at Emmaus, you can see directly how your donations are making a difference.
A bit like when I volunteer at the foodbank for the Trussel Trust. I like to be able to see the difference it’s making to people’s lives.
The staff at the Cambridge site were so friendly and helpful. It has a really good energy about it.
It’s worth Googling to find out more.
I bought some lovely bits. But the whole shop was full of wonderful things that brought back wonderful memories.
It was an absolute pleasure to walk down memory lane seeing all these beautiful things.
They even had a few pieces of the dinner service that my mum gave me, that she got for her wedding day in 1969.
I bought a few bits and bobs and came home and made a beautiful table scape…
I loved creating this table scape, made with love, with pre loved items. Ones man’s trash is most definitely another man’s treasure. Xx
Have a great week. Keep well. Xx