After months of meticulous planning to coordinate my work leave, my colleague’s vacation, and the complex paperwork for health insurance funding, the time for the big step finally arrived. My mother and I set off for Belgium again, feeling like seasoned travelers in a land that was beginning to feel familiar.
- A Home Away from Home
This time, I chose an apartment with a kitchen to accommodate our long stay. It was a small sanctuary—nestled near public transport and a supermarket, giving us a sense of normalcy in the midst of medical uncertainty.
The Hospital: A Lesson in Vulnerability
The Belgian hospital was a revelation of kindness. The staff treated me with a warmth that I hadn’t experienced very often. However, the moment I woke up from anesthesia, I faced a hard truth: in my focus on logistics, I hadn’t fully researched the physical reality of the procedure. I woke up with tubes emerging from my abdomen and a level of pain I hadn’t anticipated. I learned then that this was only Part One; I would have to return in six weeks to replace the tubes with the permanent “Chait button.” After a brief moment of sadness, my survival instinct kicked in, and I started planning the next trip from my hospital bed.
- The First Real Test
The week in the hospital was a blur of recovery and my mother’s daily visits. On the final day, we performed the first irrigation. It seemed successful at first, but my body told a different story. A week of post-operative constipation meant the water had simply bypassed the blockages.
The “Reality” of Recovery: Just as we left the ward, intense, contraction-like pains seized my body. For an hour, I fought through the agony as my system finally cleared itself. It was a brutal reminder of the physical toll of surgery, but I was grateful it happened before we boarded the bus.
- Music and Healing
The following week in our apartment was one of quiet recovery. Walking felt strange—my abdomen felt disconnected, almost as if it were bouncing separately from the rest of me—but the days were beautiful. My mother and I spent precious time together. There was a piano in the apartment, and we spent hours learning musical notes—a surreal, poetic contrast to the medical battle I was fighting.
- The Brussels Challenge
Of course, no journey of mine goes strictly according to plan. A strike in Brussels grounded our flights. We had to find a new apartment last minute and trek several kilometers on foot with our suitcases because public transport had vanished. It was a grueling physical challenge for me, but we made it.
- The Flight Home
After a final check-up of the stoma, we finally boarded the plane. I was returning home with tubes in my body and a long road ahead, but I was carrying something much more important: the knowledge that I could handle whatever chaos life threw at me.
”Recovery is never a straight line. It’s filled with unexpected pain, logistical nightmares, and surprisingly beautiful moments—like learning piano notes in a foreign city between surgeries. Have you ever been blindsided by the reality of a medical procedure? How did you find the strength to laugh through the pain? Share your stories below—I read every single one.”
Continue reading: Chapter 13: Back-to-Back Battles – Home, Friendships, and the Final Repairs