“February 5th will forever be a date tattooed in my brain…”

I had monumental hopes and dreams to be in a completely different place by my one year anniversary. I had all of these things I wanted to have accomplished, things I wanted to have done by now. I wanted to be fit – physically, financially and mentally. I wanted to own my own world. Quite the amazing feat to accomplish, I assure you.

Looking back at the last year with the eyes of an observer,  I absolutely did not accomplish these dreams. I am not physically, mentally, or financially healthy in the way I was expecting to be. However, I have accomplished some pretty amazing things that I need, I must, to stop and respect.

I have learned to cope without a body part. While my large intestine is not something that others can physically see, challenges I have faced have been similar to someone dealing with losing an arm, an eye, a leg – some tragic loss that others can see. I have dealt with being embarrassed by others and embarrassing others, I have experience being frustrated with myself and others, I have had to rely on extensive help from others, I have learned to cope with new lifestyle habits, I have dealt with saying goodbye to old lifestyle habits.

These are all accomplishments that have been difficult, that I have fought to achieve. I have had to work hard at understanding and appreciating what my body is having to deal with. I have been learning patience with myself, and my body. I have been learning compassion towards myself, as well as learning to respect what my body has been through and has accomplished.

This road hasn’t been easy, but it has become manageable. Lying in the hospital bed, I was told this day would come, I knew in my head it would happen. Understanding my “new normal,” and accepting it are also not easy to do. This is my life from now on, this is how things will continue to be, and they are not amazing and unassuming. But that does not mean that I am confined to a life of unobtainable dreams.  I have realized that I can not only survive my circumstances, but that I can actually, with a little work, thrive in them.