Facing my Fear & How I Learned to Ask for Support.

It’s All Going. Orange = Surgery

This month, I am offering readers the stories behind some of the drawings from my recently published book, I AM ALIVE: Creating Resilience and Healing Trauma through Art.

As my tumour had reduced I was exempt from six months of chemo (talk about a miracle… that story is for another day). The final part of my treatment included a radical hysterectomy. The surgery took place a month after I had completed brachytherapy radiation (being radiated internally, every hour for 24 hours a day over 7 days).

I had been completely knocked down by the radiation. I could no longer recognise myself. I had been a spiritual warrior of Oneness for the seven days and nights of radiation. It had been a profound spiritual experience. But after radiation, I had to return back to my body: a body where the entire pelvic area had burnt internally. A body that was devastated. A mind that had shut down from the pressure of the experience.

Radiation had drained me of my life force. I had never, ever felt this weak. My brain had slowed down completely: I could barely string thoughts together. I could remember faces but could no longer connect the names to the face of my friends. Getting to the toilet was a momentous effort: then I would have to wait for the pee to pass, it felt like pissing razorblades each time. What has happened to me?

The night before (surgery and drawing my fear)

I visited the gynecologist to prepare for the hysterectomy. She asked if I had saved my eggs? I had not. Why?

“Your entire reproductive system was destroyed during radiation.”

What??? This hadn’t been explained to me.

“You have gone through surgically induced menopause”

What???

I had been so struck by so much already, it was too much to process any more information. It had never occurred to me that I could lose my eggs during this process.

I had already had three surgeries in the last month on top of the radiation. That was it. I did not want any more interventions. A friend knew of my fear of general aneasthetics, of being cut open and stitched back, so he recommended a book Prepare for surgery : Heal Faster by Peggy Huddleston. I followed its recommendations religiously.

Hysterectomy 4 May - drawing the fear of going through surgery

I was already constantly chanting Om Namo Narayani, my mantra to Mother Nature in my mind. It was my internal anchor that connected me to Mother Earth. Peggy Huddleston’s book encouraged me to meditate, to prepare my subconscious to feel safe and feel supported, so, I spoke to my surgeon - to understand that I was truly in good hands. I messaged my friends who were spiritually connected and asked them to pray for me during the lead up to the surgery. I also gave them the time I was to go into surgery, so they would be mindful to be with me during it and coming out of it. The night before surgery, friends came over and we did a small fire ritual, called a puja (which I had learnt in India) to feel the support of my community and the universe.

It was definitely not protocol in France as surgeons have a very scientific way of looking at the world, but I asked my surgeon to do something he had never done before. I said to him, “When I go under anesthetic, please tell me you are going to take good care of me. And when you have finished the operation, please tell me that it has gone OK and that I will heal fast.” By this time, my surgeon was used to me asking weird and unusual questions, so he kindly agreed.

The moments before I went under, I remembered all those who were thinking of me, praying for me. I was supported.

After the hysterectomy, I woke up with a bloated belly which had been stapled back together. I had been cut across the lower part of my stomach from one pelvic bone to the other. The pain was excruciating. I had a morphine drip which I could administer and I maxed out my dose on the first day. I shared a room with a woman who had received a mastectomy. We looked into each other’s eyes. We didn’t need to say a thing. We both knew that we had traveled to deep and painful places.

When my surgeon came to see me for the post surgery visit, he told me that he had spoken to me before and after the surgery. I was amazed that he had done this and remembered to tell me. I felt like a pioneer within the french medical system by creating a more meaningful connection between the the doctor and the patient.