Nearly every ostomate I've talked to has a horror story, including me.

After an aggressive hug, my bag came open and... SPLAT!
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This post was originally published on Cancer Owl.

For those of you who hadn't known already, the cancer I was diagnosed with was colorectal cancer and for nine months I had an ostomy bag. As anyone with an ileostomy or colostomy will tell you, it gets you more used to your own poop than you can ever imagine! 

Nearly every ostomate I've talked to has a horror story, including me. I would let the things fill to its maximum capacity. Call it laziness, or call it insanity. From an original story submission on Cancer Owl, I created this comic about a true life experience.

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After 24 hours of not hearing from me, my caregiver and best friend rushed over to my house to check on me. She thought I was dead. It was a Sunday morning. She was knocking frantically at my door. I rushed to answer it with a full ostomy bag. 

After an aggressive hug, my bag came open and... SPLAT!