Back at the Beach

One of the many people I met while working as a nude beach vendor was a fellow ostomate. I didn't realize he was one the first couple of times I saw him, but it finally clicked when I realized his little pouch never shifted from covering his lower-right abdomen... of course, it was a cover for his ostomy. Just like my little apron was a cover for mine.

The next time I served him, I asked him about his ostomy. There was a distinct language barrier between us, but I'm fairly certain that he overplayed it and feigned misunderstanding, until I lifted my apron to show him that I had one too.

There was a flash of surprise and relief on his behalf, and we exchanged smiles of understanding. I was amazed that it took me- an ostomate- so long to figure out what he was hiding inside that rectangular pouch that hung from a belt around his waist. I guess it shows how truly concealable ostomies can be.

I sold juice to my fellow ostomate several more times before the end of summer. We didn't talk about our ostomies or anything; it just a graceful secret that somehow meant we were connected.