It's not if, but when at this point.
Surgery, that is.
My pouch is failing. I have the third fistula (this one draining to the surface) in a year. I could go back to Florida for 2 - 4 weeks to get this latest fisulta "fixed"; or, I could go back to Florida for 4 1/2 weeks to get a whole new pouch; or, I could get a local surgeon to give me a Brooke's (an external pouch for the uninformed).
If you said, "Hmmm, door #3 looks nice," then you're thinking the same way I am.
I don't know when it is quite yet. I'm holding everything off because I'm in the middle of refinancing my mortgage. I also haven't met the surgeon yet, so it'll depend on his schedule as well. Right now I'm holding steady (well, as steady as you can with a draining wound) on Cipro twice a day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, there's fiends that need thrashing on the Moonglow Road. And chocolate to eat. And whiskey to eyeball.
**How can you care?** 'Because I choose to.' **You make it sound so simple.** 'That's because it is simple. Hard sometimes, but simple.'
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