Living, Travelling, Thriving: Melvyn’s Stoma at Five Years
22 April, 2026
Melvyn Wilkins first wrote about his stoma experiences in the Summer 2020 edition of Tidings. He then followed this with a second feature in Winter 2023. In this third instalment, Melvyn shares how, five years on from his initial surgery, living with a stoma is still full of surprises, not least while on holidays.
To go back to the beginning of my stoma journey – which is owing to having bowel cancer – surgery was planned for January 2018 which required an APER operation (Abdomino-Perineal Excision of the Rectum). Thankfully this went according to plan. I felt relatively OK on returning to the ward. So, what happened? After going home, the wound sites took ages to heal, and I had two abscess breakdowns. One site was being dressed daily, so after nearly two years I went back to Gloucestershire Royal Hospital in August 2019 for some reconstructive surgery on my APER site. But then the keyhole site got infected. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, just a daily task to change a basic dressing. I saw the consultant again in February 2020 to determine the depth of the abscess track, and she said a further bit of reconstructive surgery may be needed. However, my GP nurse suggested we try a PICO negative pressure dressing instead. (A ‘PICO’ being a small, battery-operated pump and special dressing which applies continuous pressure to a wound, helping it heal by removing excess fluid and bacteria).
The PICO dressing was on for about six weeks, but fraught with leaks and pump failures. An abnormal cavity, known as a ‘sinus’, had now also formed and refused to heal, so we went back to Plan A – daily dressings. To be honest, these weren’t a problem, just a large wound dressing applied each day, undertaken by my wife, Mandy, with occasional visits to my local GP nurse to check the skin and the site itself, which, if anyone wonders, was on the very top of my bum, so not a dressing I could do myself!
I decided I could keep this up almost indefinitely and so chose not to have yet further surgery. But then something made me think differently. Mandy went down badly with Covid in November 2021 and was bedridden for over a week. I needed to drag her out of bed to do my dressings every day. Then I contracted Covid too. Here I had a mindset change – what if she was no longer able to do my dressings?
In January 2022 I went back to the consultant and said I would be prepared for her to attempt a second reconstructive surgery. The second wound site had healed, and I was ready for another try.
After eight months of waiting, I finally went for a pre-anaesthetic assessment – but then heard nothing. This was October 2022, and as the assessment is only valid for six months, another had to be set up for the following May. Surgery was then at last set for June 2023. Typically, however, I was due to celebrate my 70th birthday that very same month, and I had plans to holiday in Switzerland with friends and family. So I requested the surgery date be pushed back.
In the meantime, I had an appointment with a new consultant, mine now having retired, and the news wasn’t good. Following his assessment, he concluded that the surgery would be unsuccessful once again, and in effect, I would have to live with constant daily dressings – forever.
It was now time to take that trip to Switzerland and we were going to fly, whereas in the past I drove, or we went by train, as I don’t really enjoy the whole air travel fiasco. This created further concern for me; what to do with all my dressing materials, as well as all my stoma products – which were enough to fill a suitcase before even packing anything else. What if they lost my baggage and I arrived in Zurich with nothing to use for the next seven days?!
I had a plan though; I had a friend in Switzerland who happened to live about five miles from our accommodation. Labelling all the items, sealing them in plastic sacks, filling out all the different customs declarations and packing them in a box, I posted them all to her in plenty of time to ensure they would arrive. The plan worked and she delivered the box to me on arrival in our Airbnb, a huge apartment above a Mexican restaurant – the smells were amazing!
Putting all my worries behind me, I made sure the holiday and celebration would go like clockwork, which it did. My daughter and her partner flew in from Canada and my son and his partner from Gloucestershire. We were also joined by my friend Steve. It was planned that both he and his wife would join us, but she died from motor neurone disease the Christmas before, so it was sadly just him.
On the day of my 70th, I met up with my Swiss friends and we enjoyed a light lunch and a few drinks at a lakeside restaurant, then they started to strip off to go swimming. Ever since the initial surgery I was no longer confident to be immersed in water; no baths, no swimming pools, and no seaside swimming. They all enjoyed it, but I felt that I could never get in water again, as concerns over waterlogged dressings and a leaking stoma pouch filled me with dread.
Every morning, Mandy would do my dressings and we would leave the apartment for the day, me accompanied by my ever-present ‘man bag’ which always contained all my stoma products should they be needed. We travelled around by train, and even paddle steamer. One evening I had pre-booked a table for us all in a restaurant. It was a revolving restaurant at 1898m (6227ft) on the Stanserhorn – a mountain overlooking Lucerne. To get there, we first took a local train from Lucerne to Stans, followed by a 120-year-old funicular for the first quarter of the ascent. From there we transferred to the new CabriO aerial cableway with its open roof. It is a truly amazing feeling to stand on the open roof of a cable car and experience up close the passage between the supporting masts, just enjoying the headwind and the magnificent view – without any cables overhead. We dined with a panoramic view for about 10 minutes before the clouds rolled in, the wind increased, and we sat through a massive thunderstorm which cleared as quickly as it arrived.
Back home, and several months later, things started to look different, in more ways than one. A small lump appeared on the hole that was where my sphincter used to be. Mandy decided it looked like a wound granulation which we hoped would slowly cover the hole. But over the next few days it got bigger and bigger, until it was finally the size of a broad bean. We decided I should go and see the practice nurse, but then it suddenly came off when Mandy was doing a dressing. Several days later, Mandy declared that the hole was drastically reducing in size and just two days later it had closed completely. Two years on and I’ve still had no further issues. Was there a ‘foreign body’ or dislodged piece of surgical mesh that had been forcing the hole to remain open and discharging, which had finally worked its way out? I will never know.
In June 2025 we holidayed in Brittany, France, with an apartment right on a secluded beach. The year before I had threatened to get in the sea in this same spot, but chickened out as I was still self-conscious about my stoma pouch being visible and the possibility of it leaking. This time I was going to do it. I had purchased some swimming trunks that would cover my stoma pouch, but I felt they looked ridiculous on me – almost coming up under my armpits. I considered going in with a T-shirt on and that was my plan, until I saw something which changed my mindset 100%.
Lying just in front of us on the beach was a woman in a bikini sunbathing. Then she got up and went down to the water’s edge – and threw down her crutches, she only had one leg! Then she hopped into the water far enough that she could swim and repeated the exercise to get out. No-one turned an eye to stare at her. If she could do it, so could I. Remembering to put a sticker over the stoma pouch filter, I stripped off my T-shirt and walked bravely down the beach. The sensation of entering water after seven long years was amazing, I did it three more times that afternoon and again the following day – and no-one took any notice. I was cured of my doubts thanks to that woman.
As well as enjoying such holidays, I also run a 1980 Triumph Dolomite Sprint in classic car shows and scenic tours in the summer months. Throughout the winter, I now write as a hobby, and I have just had my fifth book published. Why worry when there is more to life? Enjoy it and make it the best you can.
