Well, hello there!
I pray you’re all doing well and looking after yourselves, with Divine Grace. It feels good to be back.
It’s been around 8 months since the surgery, and I’m 42 and officially post-menopausal 🙂
The hot flashes every 20 minutes or so, day and night, for the first three months were quite amusing! (I feel for those of you who are going through it). I carried a paper hand-fan and a small, wireless, rechargeable one with me everywhere; they were a Godsend. Thankfully, they’re not needed anymore. I decided not to take any HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy), and I’m incredibly grateful to Bhagwan that I’m doing well without it.
I felt the difference immediately after the surgery. I felt clearheaded as soon as I woke up. I had gone under whilst chanting my mantra, and apparently, I was smiling while unconscious. I saw a photograph of myself under anaesthesia, and I can’t believe I look so blissful. Maybe my spirit was hanging out with The Divine Mother while I was asleep! 😊
The initial recovery from the surgery itself wasn’t exactly an easy experience as I’d somehow managed to develop a chest infection, a urinary tract infection and a stomach infection all at once. And it seems one of my aftercare nurses was having a bad couple of days as she forgot to give me my painkillers, other medicines and the nebuliser when she should have. I ended up having to stay in the hospital for a couple of days longer, and it took six weeks of antibiotics to kill off the infection.
Since my recovery, I have been on a high. Some mornings I wake up and burst into song, sometimes devotional songs, some RnB, and sometimes even opera!
As the hormones settled for the last time, I had one final PMS wave two weeks post-surgery, where I was hit with that all too familiar extreme fatigue and emotional deluge. It lasted only a couple of days, thankfully; nothing like before. And since then, it’s been bye-bye to horrendous periods and PMS/PMT/PMDD forever!
So now, for the first time in my adult life, I’m able to exercise a little bit every single day of the month. Even if it’s just a 20-minute, brisk walk. Regular exercise was impossible in these recent years; my blood and energy were always depleted, and my PMDD cycles made me crash for a couple of weeks out of every month. Once perimenopause kicked in, it became even worse.
Also, I’d never been overweight before in my life, but the PMDD resulted in atrocious eating habits and a sedentary lifestyle for around a year before the surgery, and I piled on around 20 kilos. I had entered the overweight mark on the BMI scale. And every month, the water retention made my eyes disappear into my face, which resembled a football with a puffy nose and puffy lips. And my swollen fingers and toes lay at the mercy of my round, red hands and hot, round red feet. I’d also suffered a lot of muscle wastage because of inactivity. Most days, I couldn’t leave my room. And, on some days of the month, I could hardly get out of bed, not even to shower.
The most heartbreaking for me, even more than this, was that for the past four years, I’d been unable to sit in meditation without excruciating pain. I’d have to change my position every few minutes, and even then, the pain didn’t ease.
I was supposed to be a yogi, on the path of meditation. I’d already put in thousands of sincere hours of practice and months at a time in strict solitude. People always used to comment on my posture and ask me how I managed to sit so straight, but since 2018, no matter how much I stretched, no matter how many times I went to six different physiotherapists, nothing helped. I couldn’t sit without pain anymore. As so much time was spent lying down in bed, my posture crumbled, and I lost my straight, strong back. I never gave up hope, though. I had faith that one day I would be able to sit properly again.
Post-surgery, I learned that not only had I been suffering from the effects of PMDD and fibroids and endometriosis, but my uterus, which had become abnormally enlarged, was crushing my nerves and ligaments, causing this pain.
My uterus was blocking my digestive system too, which was causing a whole other set of problems, including deep, chronic anal fissures that refused to heal. I couldn’t walk, sit, or lie down comfortably. Going to the washroom felt like trying to pass broken glass, and my bottom was on fire any time I ate even the slightest bit of spicy food 🌶️ 😱 (and I live in India where its love affair with chillies and spices is well known!).
My 40th and 41st birthdays came and went almost the same way, with me lying down in my room alone, on antibiotics, antacids, fibre supplements, probiotics, and anti-inflammatory creams, gels and tablets.
Now I’m in full recovery mode and in the UK for the summer and in full recover mode. I walk a couple of miles 3 to 4 times a week, uphill through the woods and meadows full of bluebells and birdsong, past an idyllic lake to a wonderful support centre for patients with spinal injuries and disabilities. I’m making use of the swimming pool there, re-learning to swim, which feels amazing!
I’m eating healthier than ever now, too (no more crazy, hormonal cravings); lots of fresh fruit, vegetables and delicious salads.
And guess what! After eating right and working on my strength and flexibility for months, I’ve lost most of the weight and can sit cross-legged again! Woohoo! 😀 Not for long stretches, but enough to meditate and feel a gentle stream of bliss and quietude of the mind.
Admittedly and unsurprisingly, in the beginning, getting fit was SO SO hard. Because my muscles had atrophied, in the beginning, everything hurt; I had no balance and no strength.
There were nights I couldn’t sleep after I’d started some gentle walking and yoga. It wasn’t the usual ‘after gym ache’. The pain was constant for months. I’d wake in the night and have to take a painkiller and try to massage my legs with a thick rolling pin, rolling my legs like chapattis. Raising my arms to get dressed was near impossible; my shoulders wouldn’t cooperate. When I stood up from a sitting or lying position, every bone from hip to toe felt like it was rusted and locked. It would take a few minutes of movement for the pain to subside, and I could walk normally. I also managed to dislocate my right wrist and had to stop yoga for a while. Physically, I was at my rock bottom before and after the surgery. But Swami ji’s teachings constantly motivated me. I can achieve anything, I just have to keep at it, little by little, keep going and not give up.
It felt like I was starting from scratch, from absolute zero — with my meditative posture, with walking properly, and with my health in general. But I kept telling myself it’s not over, it’s okay, we all start from somewhere, and sometimes we have to re-start… a few times! We veer off course sometimes, and that’s fine. We simply have to never give up doing what we responsibly can to keep ourselves healthy in mind and body.
I’d like to share here two of the most inspiring videos I’ve ever seen:
If they can do it, so can I!
I want to say a big thank you to Dr. Geeta Baro ji at the ashram and gynaecologist Dr. Sonali Vashishtha in Haridwar for looking after me and diagnosing me correctly, where other doctors failed to do so.
My gratitude to my talented fashion designer friend Beenu Singh and her family, whose home I took over for months (once for four months in solitude, and this time for a couple of months around the surgery too) Beenu’s been with me since the day Swami ji first initiated me in July 2015 and has never said no to me for anything or let me down even once. She goes out of her way, above and beyond, to make sure I’m comfortable and my every need taken care of. Thank you, Beenuben!
To Chantal Om Espitalier-Noel, who has been a dear friend throughout and supported me in more ways than she even realises. She’s one of the most inspiring women I’ve ever met. Chantal is a go-getter and a life changer (her own and the many women she connects with through her foundation and Women’s Centre in Mauritius — FAM-UNIE). Chantal got me through many PMDD dips and gave me much confidence in my new career as a writer. Thank you, Chantal!
To my dear Divya Om Manoharan, who not only looked after me at the ashram and brought me my meals when I couldn’t get myself to the dining room to eat, but also gave up weeks of her time to be with me, away from our blissful ashram, before, during and after my hospital stay. Your help and kindness will never be forgotten, Divya ji. No matter what my body was going through in the hospital, you kept me smiling. We meditated, did japa, and laughed a lot, watching comedy movies, playing well-humoured children’s pranks on the staff like this. and making friends with them all. The staff will not forget us in a hurry!
In keeping with Swami ji’s teachings, we made sure that everyone we interacted with left smiling, and we tipped as many of the workers as we could, including the gate security, who often get left out. Thanks to The Rainmaker, I know to make sure I tip gate security now, too. Thank you, Swami ji!
And to all my spiritual family, I’m humbled by all your love, kindness, post-surgery visits, flowers and messages of support. I cried many times because I felt so loved and overwhelmed. I’d been in hospital before, but never been treated like this. Every day, I thought Wow! You are all my family, and my family is so AWESOME!
Swami ji, You who have given me ALL of this. Ever, Ever, Ever Grateful for Thy Grace, which I am far from worthy of and for how amazingly You put up with me. My most thankful obeisance at Your feet 🙏🏽🌺🙇🏽♀️
A final note: You might ask, if I believe in God so much, why didn’t God or my guru, Om Swami ji, wave a magic wand and make it all go away?
I believe that we are a product of not only our conditioning and karma but of our choices, too.
Swami ji and God are busy working on my soul. The least I can do is take care of my physical and emotional health.
I know I didn’t respect my body when I was younger, and I didn’t live in harmony with nature. I didn’t bother about living a saatvik lifestyle. I didn’t bother with yoga and Ayurveda. I didn’t meditate, do any pranayama or any sadhana then. I didn’t know how to handle stress or calm my mind, and I put all sorts of poisons into my body. All this was inevitably going to catch up with me one day. I take full responsibility for that.
It’s why it’s so important we teach our children about Sanatan Dharma and living in harmony with nature, from a young age.
Please watch those two videos and remind yourself that you can do that too!
With His Grace,
Sushree Diya Om
🧡
(Originally published on os.me on June 13, 2022)