When the Doc said - You'll live on Sanober...

For some unknown reasons I've become aversive to writing anything about myself; it leaves an air of vanity behind. But I had to write this, because there are millions of women out there whose life has been changed or will be changed (for good or worse) for the same reasons as mine.

Endometriosis - The best thing to have happened to me. No, I didn't think so when my life took a 2 days pause every month leaving me paralysed. I don't have the count of how many '2 days' there have been in the last decade that have made me hate myself for being a woman. Finally, when in 2009 I was diagnosed with endometriosis and 5cm ovarian cysts, I didn't know what it meant and decided to let it go untreated. Not to browse about it was a conscious decision. But when the 2 days turned to twenty days, I realised it was a problem that required immediate solution.

Google and docs said the only solution that existed was a surgery. Being cut by a knife was out of question, and the fear of anesthesia I didn't want to face anytime in my lifetime. I believed I would never wake up after it. But the biggest fear was of losing the endurance I had built up for running. I was sure to run a sub 2 hr for a half marathon with the way I had trained myself so far.

 So what followed was a series of visits to ayurvedic doctors, an online search for 'home remedies' and extensive shopping from 'ebay' for remedies that weren't available in India. The pain did subside, but the problem didn't. Sonography showed the cyst was now 8cm, and a new one of 5cm had cropped up on the left ovary! So was it the time to face the fear?

The first person to guide me beautifully and extensively was Priya Vaidyanathan, a runner friend and an anesthetist from Hong Kong. She made everything seem unbelievably easy and positive. I'm still ashamed of not keeping her updated about my progress, the only reason being I had consciously decided not to talk much about it until I'm through with the operation. In fact my family knew about it just an evening before the surgery. They were mad at me, but I was convinced I had saved them the unnecessary stress.

The doc suggested it wouldn't be laproscopy (key hole surgery), but an open abdomen surgery (laparotomy), as mine was an advanced case. But what really made me happy is  that the anaesthesia would be spinal, which would numb only my lower part, leaving me fully conscious to talk to the doctors and witness the procedure.

For some reason I was extremely happy for the last 2 days before the surgery, may be because I was finally going to face my fear. That saved my husband of any unnecessary tension too. He could effectively focus on the preparations required for the surgery rather than my panic attacks!

I did not feel the fear of the spinal injection, until the anaesthetist said it will all be over in a second and I'll realize the futility of my apprehension. But I had not been apprehensive until he had said this!

Next after a brief interval where all the docs and nurses hurried, what I saw was a knife in the doc's hand. Strangely, everything felt so smooth. I'm not sure was it because of my determination to stay calm, or the anaesthetist who had engaged me in an interesting conversation.!

I can clearly remember the doc with the knife in his hand making a big incision from the right to the left. Though the part was numb, I could clearly feel the knife moving across and the strange satisfaction that swept through my nerves. I had done it! I had faced my fear. Earlier, I had been determined never to undergo the knife ever in my life no matter what. What I hadn't remembered then was you really cannot plan your life. Life is all about being prepared for the unprepared.

The first question I asked the doc during the surgery was - when can I start running again. I ignored the grin and went on to ask if I could run the Delhi Half Marathon on Sept the 30th, which would be a month later. The answer was interesting - you can but you shouldn't.

The assistant doc immediately after the incision asked for the suction something and within no time a machine (size of a brick) was kept in the abdomen. I kept talking and told the anaesthetist how I had faced my fear, though the biggest one was of being under general anaesthesia and was glad that I was given only a spinal one.

However after around 20 mins, the pressure inside my abdomen went on increasing, as the docs did things there - cutting, exploring etc. and I requested them to be slow. It was then the anaesthetist asked me if I wanted to sleep for a while. I said no and he started talking to me about my profession. It was when he asked me if I could cast him in any of the films, the pressure in the abdomen once again increased (no, it wasn't because of the question) and he said he thinks I should go off to sleep and delivered some medicine through the IV. Only when I opened my eyes for a second or two while being shifted to the recovery room, did I realize I haven't been 'sleeping' after all. Even in that brief period I knew I had faced my second and biggest fear! Lucky me!

I was discharged after four days and was to receive the biopsy reports in the next 4 days time. I was told it was one of the most complicated operations that had been carried out in the hospital as the endo was widespread. There was a rarest of rare chance of the tumor being malignant, though it is generally benign in endometriosis.

When I sat before the doc 4 days later after my dressing, he asked me to wait outside as the requested my reports be brought to him. He took an unusually extra time to call me in. While I was seated, he continued to read the report and make some notes in his book. He coughed a bit, just the way one does while hesitating to speak up. It was then I learnt what 'those were the longest minutes of my life' really meant. I decided instantly how I'm gonna face this. I knew exactly what I'll be doing in these last moments of my life. After a while he kept down the pen and handed over the reports to me without saying a word. I gathered strength and asked him "what is it". He simply replied, "nothing, normal, endometriosis only." What I heard was, "don't worry, you are going to live now, and you know exactly what you have to do with your life."

Within no time all the regrets I've had in life, every fear I've ever known or would have known, the sorrow of losing the endurance for running, and the anxiety for the unknown vanished. I was reborn. The good news was, I didn't have to die for it.

I'll be eternally grateful to my family and friends, specifically Priya Vaidyanathan, who first gave me the courage to go for it. I still remember her words, no matter what, my running life will never end. I still doubt if I would have visited a gynaec, if it wasn't for her mail. I'm thankful to Rajashree Kamath, no more only a runner friend, who was with me before, during and after the surgery and still is. I'd like to thank Aditi, a childhood friend whose purusuing her MD, for patiently clearing all my doubts, and there were many! I'm grateful to Rupal who enquired after me. I'm grateful to Sanjoo, who took care of me every single day before and after the surgery. I'm thankful to Roshni Rai, who didn't call me during that time as I had casually told her I'll be keeping her updated, and she cutely waited for my call! Last but not the least I'm grateful to my family, because of whom in doctors words my recovery has been faster than it normally is.

Today is the last day of  my rest.  I'll start running tomorrow, it's just 3 months for the Mumbai Marathon and I need to begin from a scratch. But do I mind it? Actually I don't mind anything at all. Had I not been lucky enough to have a great husband, great parents, great sisters and great friends, I would still not mind it. It's Vipassana, Running and Endometriosis that have thought me to be in the moment, and I've realized that every moment is worth dying for :)