My Ileostomy...by Donald F. Wallbaum, 2009

I've viewed my body traditionally,
My guts should be inside of me,
Not hanging out for all to see.
My ileostomy.

On my side there is a sack,
To substitute for what I lack,
what comes out front used to go out back.
My Ileostomy.

In my guts there is a hole-in
To which was stuffed my colon.
Missing now, but was not stolen,
My ileostomy.

My guts were one score feet and ten,
Six I shall not see again.
Tossed in some disposal bin.
My ileostomy.

I look down toward my feet'n
See just what I have eaten.
Corn and beans and eggs well beaten.
My ileostomy.

My favorite game is hide and seek,
A little poke, a covert peek,
Checking for that sudden leak,
My ileostomy.

Some may think it quite a trial,
Walking with a bag of bile,
Always thinking of, with some small guile,
My ileostomy.

But I look at those who must run and jump,
To rush and sit upon their rump,
For I alone can stand to dump.
My ileostomy.

Mr. Wallbaum, please forgive my posting of your poem, I hope you are pleased
that it will be shared with so many in need of a little levity and grace!
Dr. Karen