The Evolution of Mark

Version 1(arrogant)

Born with a serious glint in my eye,

No in fact a terrible squint in my eye,

Dyslexia made Academia hard,

Struggling for each inch, each yard,

Cocky little dude who had it to easy.

Until 14 his life was pretty easy,

Doing well at school, no struggles,

Diagnosed with ulcerative colitis,

As well as Autoimmune Hepatitis,

This was his end he turned the light out,

He wasn’t equipped for the fighting.

Version 2 (Angry) 

Every three months in the hospital admitted,

Difficult to control my conditions,

Changing of pills and increasing steroids,

Rage building in my soul,

Part pills and part self hatred.

Hard to get along with,

In constant pain, lashing out,

Hard to live with,

But hard to be,

Conditions downward spiralling.

Till the fateful week where the bowl failed,

Blood running fast,

A wish to be dead,

Begging to end it all,

No fight in his souls.

He died no the surgical table,

Metamorphosis brought about a new age.

Version 3 (Mr Grit)

After the Surgery entered Mr Grit,

A fighter at his core,

Not stopped by twists, surgeries,

Nor ITP nor Neutropenia,

Going head long through every fight.

A kinder version but still hard on the edges,

Softening over the years despite the fights,

Helpful when you needed him,

Few friends but ride or die with them,

Until the 27th December 2015.

The date etched on my soul and my bones,

The start of the worst time in my life,

It was only a couple of days till I was fighting for my life,

The end of Mr Grit,

In the darkness of hospital recovery,

In the darkest of times spawned Mr Positivity.

Version 4 (Mr Positivity)

Modern Day Mark is so different,

Positive, supportive, Strong,

Undefeatable, different goals,

Different life, limited but not demished,

When down and out came the light inside.

Came the ability and experience to help,

Story laid bare for the benefit of others,

A part of my soul given to those who need the words,

A shoulder or hand given to those who wish it,

An ear to those who wish to share or commiserate.

A conscious choice to bring positivity,

To be as positive as can be,

If asked to help and able to, do,

A hand given because it’s right,

Knowledge shared freely.

Experience explained,

Turning the darkness into light,

Making the bad into good,

Staying positive when wounds turn infected,

Staying upbeat when life is affected,

Always looking back always reflecting.

Proud of who I am,

More friends now than I ever expected,

So very moved to be respectfed.

Hey guys thanks for reading, today is the 3rd anniversary of my admission that sent me to icu so after over coming my first panic attack in over a year I decided to set aside an hour to compose these and reflect on my life. I am so proud of the volunteering I do and I am so very humbled when I am asked to speak at events. I am so glad to have been given the chance to make my bad times into positives for other people and I am glad for each and everyone of you reading This because you have supported me in my recovery. My recovery from ICU will never be over as the after effects are still being felt and will no doubt linger as they have got worst with the passing years not better. I thank each and every one of you for your help support and love. I thank those who have asked me to speak, volunteer or help out, it means the world to me, you all know who you are.

Please feel free to comment or share 

With great joy

Mark

Terror on the horizon

The third anniversary

Terror in my gut is rising,

Gazing out my window at the horizon,

Dark clouds looming,

A storm is coming,

Steadfast in its way,

Girding myself for the fight.

My body wears battle scars,

My medals of victory,

Both pride and sadness,

Wars I’d rather not’ve fought,

Bitter sweet wins.

Broken, weakened, lifeless,

Death awaiting beside me,

But fight in me still,

Digging my trenches,

Readying for the war.

The battle done but the darkness remains,

Friends and comrades fell,

My sanity changed forever,

Memories gone never to return,

The darkness my friend my foe but never my master.

The 27th December is the anniversary of my admission which ended in my 3 week icu stay (17 weeks in hospital in total) I am so thankful that I am still here still fighting. I am grateful for the ICU staff at crosshouse hospital who gave me a fighting chance. I am thankful for the chance to volunteer with InS:PIRE and to speak at delirium conference in March. I have a lot to be thankful for and things I can still do, it’s easy to dwell on what we can’t do. I am aware that over the next few weeks I will be battling my inner demons but please know that dark Mark is still Mark he’s just got weights trying to hold him down. He will fight through it because I always do, just remember my friends that I love you and you mean the world to me. You teach me things everyday from POCUS to how to write poems to how to slay at podcasting or crushing it in making a new conference to promote women in medicine to the kindness I am shown everyday by you.

You been with me during my peaks Well now comes one of my troughs but remember we need the bad to appreciate the good. We need dark to appreciate the light.

My bowels, my surgery and my scars

Above is my abdomen at the moment I had surgery in August and it’s taking a while to heal so hence the dressing. Scar one is my original stoma site 0 was a stoma put in ~2010 it was placed as an emergency because I was bleeding profusely and wanted to die but it was the greatest thing ever because it stopped the pain of my ulcerative colitis and made me feel so much better I went from 60kg ish to about 75 kg and for 2 years it was bliss, I didn’t and still don’t like my stoma but it was a vast improvement. Then I started getting peristomal hernia and bowl twisting issues, I have had with that stoma maybe 8-10 hospitalisation with twists and two resulted in peristomal hernia repairs until 2015 when it was moved to site 2 now this stoma had no chance of surviving and it I am honest I am surprised it lasted as long as it did, it was another emergency move but one month after it I was in ICU for my coma time I went from 90kg down to 65kg (i’m 6’1” for reference) so all the muscle it was stitched to and relying on was wasted away. That brings us to site 3 relocated in late August 2018 it is December at this moment and it has not fully healed because site 2 got infected and went septic, ML my mid line wound which was about 10-11 inches long dehisced (burst open)leaving a wound 2 and a half inches deep and four inches wide. Thus it has taken a long time to heal needing the assistance on vacuum dressings and Iv antibiotics to treat the infection which undermined it in the first place. The reason the area around 1 and 2 is so saggy is that it was heavily herniated and I have lost 12kg so I have a lot of loose skin, my abdomen doesn’t have many flat places it is akin to the alps

Remember just because someone looks normal (and I do most of the time because of how I dress and the behaviours I use to draw attention away from it) doesn’t mean they’re not scars lying underneath. This trauma on me is easy to see once the barriers are removed but it’s exactly the same for all trauma we put up barriers to protect ourselves all you need to do is know how to look or what to ask. Whether the scars are physical or mental remember they are the result of trauma and are often hard fought for, they should be treated with respect and dignity. I am very anxious about posting this as the internet is often a nasty place but I think this might help some people so it is worth any shit that comes my way. Just remember people we all have scars never be ashamed of your battles and remember no matter how hard your fight there is always people to talk to even if it’s just on Twitter.

Capital Night

My trip to the capital quick and fun,

Till we got to the centre then the nightmare begun,

Round and round we go, tempers beginning to fray,

Driving around till day became night,

Thank gosh I only here for a one night stay.

Excited for the night out but equally frightened,

These people I’ve met once so kind and inviting,

I sit in my hotel anxiety building, 

The knot in my stomach slowly churning,

But my conditions will not stop me,

Nor will I let them define me.

Met them once but some feel like lifelong friends,

Funny how ICU can unite you,

That journey shared needs not to be spoken,

Each of us strong when formerly broken,

Unashamed, unafraid, unbashful,

Life is for living not living in fear.

They invited me even though practically a stranger,

Accepted into their group without reservation,

Fortunate to have such wonderful friends,

Blessed to have found them in my recovery.