Jo’s Diary: Overcoming Mountains

22 April, 2026

Readers will no doubt recognise Jo as Tidings’ resident fitness guru. However, with further medical issues to address over the coming months, Jo is hitting pause on her regular column. In its place, Jo will be sharing personal insights from this latest chapter of her stoma journey.

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro in October 2025 was set to be my ultimate challenge since becoming an ostomate five and a half years ago.

This trek was more than a personal milestone. It was part of a stoma charity’s mission to support women in Kenya living with birth injuries and stomas, with the goal of building a dedicated stoma care clinic. A cause that resonates deeply with me and reflects my commitment to advocating and supporting women living with the long-term impact of birth injuries. I also hoped to inspire and empower ostomates too.

This adventure was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be part of an all-female team, including several fellow ostomates, sharing the journey, strength, and solidarity every step of the way. After the climb, I was due to travel to Eldoret, Kenya, to meet some of the incredible women and dedicated team supported by the stoma charity.

Sadly, I’ve had to step back from this challenge to put my health first. It wasn’t an easy decision, but as many of you will understand, sometimes our bodies demand that we pause and redirect our energy. I’m now facing my biggest surgery yet, and with it, another steep climb on the road to recovery.

I’ll be undergoing proctectomy surgery, removal of my rectum, often referred to as ‘Barbie Butt’ surgery, in September, just weeks before I was due to depart.

Like so many of you, I know the frustration of having plans disrupted by health, but I also know the courage it takes to keep moving forward. This surgery feels like another mountain in my journey, but mountains are climbed one step at a time. My hope in sharing this is to remind anyone facing their own challenges that it’s okay to prioritise yourself, to slow down when you need to, and to take each day as it comes.

It has been an emotional rollercoaster, especially knowing how many people have supported me so far and the amazing women in Kenya we set out to help. I’ve always taken pride in finishing what I start, so stepping back hasn’t been easy, but I’ve come to realise that listening to my body isn’t a failure, it’s a strength.

Rectal mucus is problematic for many ostomates, and I cannot control the relentless amounts that my body produces daily. It is messy, uncomfortable, and it’s made me incontinent again.

The irony of my situation isn’t lost on me. My end colostomy freed me from the debilitating faecal incontinence I had lived with since a birth injury decades earlier, and having a stoma truly transformed my quality of life. Yet, as one clinician aptly put it, I’ve now traded one form of incontinence for another – one which has become increasingly intolerable.

When I elected to have a colostomy, it wasn’t a short-term decision. I approached the surgery knowing my stoma would be permanent. Technically, it could be reversed if needed, though I have no intention of doing so, as that would simply take me back to the problems I had before.

A proctectomy, on the other hand, is final and removes the possibility of reversal entirely. One of my concerns was wondering what might happen if I experienced complications with the stoma in the future.

Making this decision has been tough. Whilst removing my rectum will eliminate the mucus, the outcomes surrounding rectal pain, rectal spasms, and the constant urge to open my bowels remain uncertain, complicated further by pelvic floor dysfunction.

I have been advised to have robotic surgery ‘laparoscopically’; a minimally invasive approach to optimise the result. As with all surgeries, there are risks, but I feel confident after much discussion with my surgeon that this is my best way forward and hopefully will increase my quality of life.

Naturally, I’m anxious and worried about the surgery and the recovery, but I’m also looking forward to being free from constant mucus and the stress of it leaking.

I’ve been fortunate to receive excellent counselling from my stoma nurse, who happens to be the same nurse that counselled me for my colostomy surgery. We discussed physical movement post-op, wound management, how long to expect recovery to take (roughly eight weeks), and practical tips such as seating support. On her advice, I’ve ordered an orthopaedic donut cushion to help with comfort during my recovery.*

I’ve also connected with other ostomates who’ve been through this surgery. Having that peer support has been invaluable. I’m going to try a knee pillow to help keep my knees rested together when sleeping on my side, a suggestion from another ostomate. Hearing about their recovery journeys and learning from their experiences has reassured me that their quality of life is better following the surgery.

At the time of writing, my operation is less than four weeks away. As I prepare for surgery, I’ve been maintaining my fitness with strength training, walking, and swimming. While I’m staying active, I’m also listening to my body and not pushing myself as I would if I were training for a competition, especially as fatigue has been a real challenge.

Alongside this, I practice 15 minutes of guided meditation each day, concentrating on breathing and relaxation. It’s been especially helpful in easing my mind, allowing me to switch off and find calm, particularly at night when I tend to overthink everything. I plan to continue using these meditations in hospital to help me relax.

When it comes to a hospital stay, it’s often the little comforts that make the biggest difference. Aside from the basics like toiletries and nightwear, I’ve found that a few personal essentials can really help. Headphones to tune out the noise, an eye mask for better rest, lip salve to keep dry air at bay, and my favourite full-sugar fruit cordial for a touch of familiarity and comfort during an otherwise challenging time.

As I look ahead to turning 50 next year, I’m setting my sights on new goals and fresh challenges. If all goes well, and depending on my recovery, I would love to be swimming competitively at the end of January. Whether that timeline is possible or not, my focus remains on the bigger picture: returning to competition. When I do return to the start blocks at a swim, my mind will be able to focus fully on the race and not the worry of leaking mucus.

*Some ostomates find that donut cushions can pull the wound. A ridge-type cushion may be better suited instead, depending on what works best for you.