At the time of illness, I didn't know that the stomach is referred to as "the second brain". I found this out much later, after embarking on an intuitive process by which, I narrowly avoided a second operation.
On Wednesday 13th February, 2 weeks after my initial operation, I was zoned out one afternoon when I was woken by a member of the surgical team. The agonising pain to my gastric region had not dissipated and they were still draining up to 2 litres a day, of trapped fluid away from my body through an NG tube and by aspirating me. The medic told me that they had decided to conduct an emergency operation on me the next day as my bowels still not opened since my initial surgery. She explained that they would make a small cut of around 5 inches to access my stomach to find out why the pain. I was quite shocked at this news. I hadn't known that a second surgery was on the cards. I'd had x-rays and scans but none of these were ever shown to me and there had been no discussions about treatment. In my mind, I thought I was waiting to hear their diagnosis after several scans.
Next, the medic talked me through the risks and possible complications. To my horror showed me a whole A4 sheet with a listing too numerous for me to remember. I do recall the following;
Wound infection
Blood poisoning
Intestinal leaking
Stricture – where stomach acid leaks up into your oesophagus and causes scarring, leading to the oesophagus becoming narrow and constricted over time
Chest infection
Lung infections
Internal bleeding
Blockage of the small intestine
Sepsis
Complications leading to removal of the stomach/stoma (necessitating life long use of colostomy bag)
Damage to other near by organs
Gastroesophageal reflux disease
Death
The list I was given was longer. Seeing my shock, the medic advised me that they had to list all the possible complications but that I was young and fit and it might not happen to me. I did feel reassured. She wanted me to sign the consent form right there but I felt that I wanted to discuss this second surgery with my family first. It was around 2pm and I knew that my sister would be visiting by 4pm. At my request, surgeon left the form with me and left me to rest some more.
My rest was very short lived. All of a sudden my consultant (who I had secretly named Sledgehammer for his approach) swung into my bay with his medical team and my surgeon Mr Hing. He informed me loudly and urgently that they were scheduling me for an emergency operation at 7am the next morning. He informed that they would be cutting me open from sternum to abdomen and would take out all my bowels and go through them. I was well and truly shocked! I asked why they couldn't just operate on the area that was causing the pain and vomiting for the last 4 weeks. He felt that should open me up completely to explore my bowels. He explained that their strategy was "operate, investigate, diagnose" and to do this they would bring out my entire 40km of gut and go through it inch by inch. He urged me to sign the form at once and that an anaesthetist would be coming to talk to me. At this point my head was truly reeling. Feeling bamboozled and under pressure, I asked how the operation had changed from a 5 inch incision, to cutting my whole torso open and getting all my guts out. They insisted that this was the best operation. They urged that I should sign at once as surgery was already scheduled. I insisted that I needed to speak with my family. In that space of about 5 minutes, I had lost some faith in them.
I was in no hurry to make this decision.
I refused to feel pressurised.
I refused to sign the consent form.
I held on to the consent form to show my family.
That evening there was a lot of discussion between my sister, my cousin, my brother in law and close friends. All of us had been taken off guard by this news of emergency surgery. We were all unsettled, confused, uneasy. There were so many questions; why had we not seen any scan results? Why could they not just operate on the gastric region? Why had they not seen this inflamed/blocked bowel in the torso scan for my blocked intestine? And my sister's particular concern, how were they going to put my intestines back in the right order? Were they just going to shovel them up and dump them back into my body any old how?
When my consultant came back, he explained again to my family, "operate, investigate, diagnose". My friend Art replied "You want to cut her open entirely, but you don't know what you're looking for?" They affirmed this to be the case. Exploratory surgery. The consultant argued that I had not opened my bowels for over a week since surgery. I argued that they had been administering me non-stop morphine on tap since my arrival 3 weeks before, not to mention the doses of morphine they had given me the 3 times at accident and emergency before I'd been admitted
A highly flagged side affect of morphine is extreme constipation. Add to this 3 weeks of nil by mouth, a recent intestine resection, plus a week of excessive vomiting and I'm not surprised my bowels hadn't opened yet.
I asked for more time to resolve this in my head. They agreed that they would come back, with Dr Hing my surgeon for a 7am meeting the next morning "before surgery". My sister and Art insisted that they would be there.
I would learn later, that my sister didn't sleep that night for fear. I didn't sleep either. That night I spoke with gut and I let my gut speak to me.
Back track to earlier in the day. Amongst all the conundrum, I had started to see a slight change in my body. I was producing less bile. Where they were once draining 2 litres of it from me, it had now decreased to 350ml. I noted that I'd only needed one bag change that day and no fluids could be drawn out through aspirating. 350ml is still a lot of bile, but enough of a change for me to notice.
In the intense quiet of the night I began a process. I was awake, in full and intense communication with my gut. Literally speaking with my gut! I asked my gut to listen and to understand. "Please work with me" I urged, "or they're gonna cut us wide open and sift through every inch of you and then just stuff you back like a heap of old sacks."
I told my gut it was my gut and how I loved it dearly. It was my private gut. Just for me. Not for strangers to go exploring through! I told my gut to remember how good it used to feel to just 'let go' and how enjoyable the feeling of a satisfying poop.
Moreover I asked my gut to speak back to me in a way that I would understand. I asked it to explain the pains to me and explain what it was holding on to. It took a while but then it showed me 2 painful things it was holding onto. At one gripping pain-seizure, I asked what this was. In the dark of the night as if a voice had spoken into my ears it offered back one word. The name of my manager! I was shocked! My gut was holding on to an aggravated, intense work situation that had not been resolved. I asked my gut to release this to me, I would take care of it once we were healed. I told my gut to simply let it go.
Another pain "spoke" and I simply forgave. A past. A loss. A sorrow that I had been unwittingly holding on to.
With hands gently placed on my tummy a sudden internal gushing started. It would woosh through one part of my intestine and then in totally different part of my intestine. A strange call and response began to resound within my gut like a guttural choir. If I didn't my touch my tummy, it stopped, but the minute I would lay my hands on gently, it would begin. "Blub!...blub-blub-blub...whoosh!" my intestines were awakening like a creature coming back to life. There was nothing I could do but witness like a spectator.
The following day, my sister the Reverend Ijeoma Ajibade came for the meeting. My dear friend the musician Art Terry came to support her. After all our questions were answered, I did what I knew I was going to do. I followed my gut instincts.
I turned down that second operation.
This very act bought me some time. It was Friday. I now had the weekend. We would all reassess on Monday. My consultant now flagged that my body had gone into starvation. I had not eaten for 4 weeks and had been sustained only by IV saline fluids. They booked me to have a PICC line of nutrients administered through my arm to drip over my heart.
I alerted my WhatsApp Wellbeing Group of what was happening. My sister alerted prayer warriors around UK, USA and Nigeria. My friends and energy healers Melissa Munn and Tara Whittle stepped up their game and intensified their spiritual work and support. My friend Sophie from Brighton came with me as they wheeled me off to get the PICC line inserted. And that very Friday afternoon, whilst waiting for the PICC line...whooosh! My system woke up 💩💩💩💩
Later that afternoon my surgeon Dr Hing swung past. I told him that I'd had a bowel movement (albeit a loose one). "I don't think you're going to resolve this on your own. Let's check back on Monday" he said.
"Who said I was doing this on my own?" I thought to myself as he walked away.
My consultant Dr Sledgehammer swung by late that afternoon. He advised me kindly not to keep watch of my bile bag and to hide it from view. I hid it in my bathrobe pocket, out of sight and full of intention for it to be empty.
On the Saturday, being flanked by physical weakness, I learnt a special lesson. Sometimes there is nothing I need "to do" other than be open and simply receive. People around the world were "holding me up". My friend Sterling Reigns had sent me a powerful Greg Braden video reminding me to "create the feeling" and see my gut as already healed. I heard the echos of my late father's words. "Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have already received it". I visualised what my end goal would look and feel like. Next I pulled close my ranks! I asked my beloved Wellbeing Group to visualise my bile bag as empty by Monday morning. They replied that they would visualise one step further, my bile would now go into my body where it belonged.
Visualisation.
Intention.
We were in agreement.
So, that Saturday morning, I simply plugged into soothing jazz, took up my colouring book and transported myself to 'somewhere else'.
Dr Hing swung by that afternoon. I was surprised "Hi! I didn't think you worked on a Saturday. Have you had a hair cut?" I chirped. Dr Hing was surprised at my 'presence'. He peered at the bright colours dancing on the pages of my colouring book. He looked at me pleased but suspiciously "I don't know what you're doing, but keep on doing it. You might actually resolve this yourself"
What a difference as day makes I thought to myself.
By Sunday the content of my bile bag decreased to 10ml of clear yellow fluid.
On Monday there was no more talk for surgery from my medics. I was allowed to sip fluids. On Tuesday I was allowed to sip fluids with bile tube clamped. On Wednesday, the nasogastric drain was removed! No more uncomfortable, smelly tube down the back of my throat! Whoop! I was allowed to consume free fluids. I had a chocolate soya custard and nearly swooned in ecstasy for the taste. Later I had a few spoons of some sweet potato soup. This was rather an uncomfortable leap but no harm done. On Thursday, I managed soft solids; soggy Rice Crispies an plain egg omelette. The egg was insanely delicious according to my desperately starved taste buds. It was another uncomfortable leap but it gave my surgeon the reassurance that I was able to eat without vomiting. "Any vomiting?!" My surgeon would holler at me every morning. I would beam back with a smile "Everything has stayed in!" He would beam back.
They discharged me on Friday 22nd February. At home I needed to take a few steps back, staying on soups and fluids. The gastric inflammation had gone down, but was still there. I was still partially obstructed. I began to self medicate with turmeric. A very high concentrated organic dose by Oxford Vitality (2,500gm). It was so affective that after 8 days I could lie on my back for the first time in months. Since then it has been a case of slow and steady! My little body went through the wars! I was freakishly under weight. My thighs looked more like calf muscles. My arms and back betrayed the bones beneath them, but slowly, over the last 3 months I have restored this temple. A temple given to serve me and many.
