In April, I went to the hospital with severe lower abdominal pains. I was diagnosed with diverticulitis (pockets in the wall of the colon - diverticulosis) that had become infected. I have no memory (at least none that make sense) of the next two weeks. From what the surgeon has told me, all did not go exactly as planned. The first surgery (cut out the infected part and sew the two ends back together) didn't quite work out as planned. The sutures leaked and polluted my abdominal cavity with [stuff] that shouldn't be there! Five days later, they had to go back in and sew the bottom end shut and divert the upper end to a bag hanging off my belly. After a month in rehab learning to deal with the bag and two months in a nursing home, and a bunch of other trials and tribulations, I'm home.
Tomorrow, I go back to the hospital to have the colostomy reversed. To tell the truth, I'm scared! The first time, I didn't have a clue! I had never been hospitalized in my life (pushing 60 years). The surgeon has assured me that there is a 99% chance of success and I'm hoping for the best!
All I know is that this brush with mortality has given me a new respect for and appreciation of life!
Thank you all and I hope to be back soon.