People with stomas, like me, are supposed to drink. A lot.
Sadly, that doesn’t necessarily involve alcohol. (And in theory at least, given that I’m taking morphine, not in practice, either.)
Basically, the suggestion is that you should guzzle about two litres of water (or something equally mild but possibly more expensive) every day.
Which, I have to say, does not come naturally to yours truly.
I don’t mind drinking water, as such. It doesn’t appeal, and I don’t enjoy it much, but I don’t mind. (There are things you can add to it, but they’re not necessarily an improvement…)
My problem is that after a lifetime of not worrying about thirst, I’m not really in the habit of quenching it. Nor do I crave alcohol, much. (A particularly stubborn recurrent infection in my 20s had me off alcohol entirely for nearly 18 months. And before you ask, no, it wasn’t an STD…)
I’m beginning to feel like a truculent teenager who’s refusing to do something that’s good for him just because everyone, but everyone, is noisily telling him to do it.
Slimming World is telling me that it helps me to lose weight.
My stoma nurses tell me it’ll help me digest my food better.
My cancer team are telling me it’ll help reduce the nastier side-effects of my chemo.
And I can still make it to early evening, look at the large water jug on my desk, and realise I haven’t touched it all day.
OK. I know I can change old habits and start new ones. (I’ve done it before – that’s how I lost four and half stone with Slimming World.)
Just don’t expect me to enjoy it…