A lot has changed since the last time I wrote. I had 11 fibroids removed from my uterus; four of the fibroids were big, the rest were medium sized, and one was small. To say I feel better is an understatement. My surgeon, Dr. Azizi, is such a blessing to me. The quality of care that I received at St. Joseph’s Hospital was off-the-charts amazing. The doctors and nurses took such good care of me that I didn’t want to leave the hospital--not kidding!
Before the surgery, I was scared. I was scared of having surgery and all that it entailed. I was scared of staying in the hospital overnight after the surgery, and I was scared of being alone in the hospital with no visitors due to COVID restrictions. I was scared, period. But I did my best not to work myself up or dwell in the fear. How did I do that you ask? I reached out to people for support, and I felt truly guided along my way.
After I shared my experience leading up to my diagnosis and decision to have surgery, I received a surprising amount of support from many people sharing their experience of having gone through the same or similar surgeries dealing with uterine fibroids. Hearing from other women made me feel like I wasn’t alone, and I was encouraged. My physical therapist, Cori Mack in Chicago, connected me with a colleague of hers who’d had the same surgery, a myomectomy. I didn’t know her, yet she spoke with me on the phone at great length and in great detail about her experience. Hearing about her experience made me feel clear and strong on the inside. She’d had the surgery, came out the other side, and had a total recovery. But I also heard from another friend about her challenges with the myomectomy and how the surgery wasn’t effective for her. She’d had to have an additional new procedure to manage and eliminate the symptoms of the fibroids. That procedure, called Acessa, thankfully worked for her. And there were other women who shared their experiences with me as well. I felt so grateful for the women who opened up and shared with me. This sharing was a big deal to me. I felt cared for by friends, my students, and even people I’ve never met!
I also received some new information about other ways of dealing with these fibroids, including shrinking them naturally with diet and herbs. However, after reviewing my MRI with my surgeon--and seeing how the fibroids were intruding in on other systems of my body, how the number of fibroids had increased, the way they had grown, and where they were situated in different areas of my uterus near other organs—it was clear I needed to have this myomectomy. The fibroids were affecting other systems of my body and the symptoms had become too much to ignore.
I kept moving forward and kept myself busy preparing for my clear liquid pre-op day, as well as stocking up my kitchen for my post-op recovery. The day before my surgery was an experience. I followed my surgeon’s instructions to drink that magnesium citrate stuff. Ugh. I don’t know if you are supposed to drink it all at once, or sip on it, or what, but drinking that stuff was a challenge–and I got the tasty lime flavor. I had made several flavors of Jell-O for myself for my fancy pre-surgery dinner; that didn’t feel all that fancy. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, I was anxious about not being able to drink any water after midnight. Unintentionally, I was awake until 11:59 PM taking my last sip of water. I slept probably for a few hours before I had to get up to be at the hospital at 5:30 AM for my 7:30 AM surgery.
I arrived at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Lincoln Park, Chicago. It was time to check in. I found myself sitting at a desk across from a woman who registered me to have surgery, and it was surreal--bizarre even. I am here to have abdominal surgery--this is really happening. Then I traveled up a floor or two. It was very odd; there wasn’t even anyone there at the front desk. No one. I later learned that the woman who checks people in to pre-op called in sick. Between COVID and the fact that I’d never had surgery before, I didn’t really know what to expect. It felt like I was on this wild ride into the unknown, taking one step at a time.
A nurse came out a couple minutes after I knocked on the door next to the empty desk. Not long after, she ushered me into my own little partitioned pre-op area. The nurse who took care of me was doing double duty, and doing it all very well, I might add. She took care of two people’s jobs until back-up arrived in a couple of hours. She gave me my sweet hospital duds, complete with those non-skid socks, a surgical cap/shower cap looking thing, and she did a great job of putting my IV into my hand--I didn’t even really feel it. That was a big deal!
I was just lying in the hospital bed for what felt like forever. Then my anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself. He asked me about my allergies, which helped quell some of my anxiety and fear. I was nervous about having an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. Weeks earlier, I had mentioned this fear to my surgeon, and he had told me that allergic reactions to the anesthesia are very rare. Then the resident doctor came in and I can’t really remember what she said to me. All I wanted was to see Dr. Azizi.
When Dr. Azizi walked into my little partitioned pre-op palace, I reached out for his hand and tears started rolling down my face. Fear, relief, comfort, anxiety, security, love, so many feelings happening all at the same time. I remember asking him how long the surgery was going to be. With his cute little chuckle, he responded that I wasn’t going to remember how long the surgery would be. I still wanted to know, though! Something about keeping track of the time was a way for me to feel more secure, more like an active participant, even though I was going to be unconscious for most of it. Then the anesthesiologist’s magical assistant, a registered nurse, came in. This woman was so very warm and calming to me. I told her I was feeling kinda nervous. She assured me that she had the good stuff. I didn’t ask what it was, but she told me that it would feel like I’d had a few drinks. That didn’t sound bad. I then met my nurse for the surgery. She had a warm presence as well, and I could tell that she had her head in the game and she was making sure things were as they were supposed to be.
After the second time I told the anesthesiologist’s assistant that I was feeling nervous, she administered the good stuff. Then the magical anesthesiologist’s assistant, the surgical nurse, and the resident doctor all started to roll me up to the operating room. This was a fun ride! I want to be friends with these women. The assistant was right there with me the whole time. I asked a bunch of them if they’d gotten into the cold shower movement, and she said she basically thought the whole cold shower idea was crazy, especially in the Chicago winter--I get it. Then somehow we started talking about the epic Prince concert at the Super Bowl in Miami, Bears v. Colts. She couldn’t believe that I was there and saw Prince playing “Purple Rain” in the pouring rain! She thought it was one of the greatest shows of all time, because it was! By this point, I’m being wheeled into the actual O.R., which felt oddly like a party, and I see Dr. Azizi! As I enter the O.R., I’m checking things out and asking questions about “what’s this” and “what’s that,” and I got the feeling like maybe I’m being a little too interactive. Then they pulled out the “oxygen,” and she instructed me to breathe in deep. After a deep breath, I shared with my new B.F. that I also saw Prince at City Winery and was as close to Prince as I was to Dr. Azizi! It felt like a mutual WOW, we all love Prince--this is great! Then I took my second deep breath.
The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a largish room with a very alert and engaging nurse in the center saying, “Alie, you are awake! We are going to remove your catheter and take you right up to your room.” Sweet, I’m excited! Then while I wait, I’m looking at the clock, trying to see what time it is--that time thing to help orient myself. Although I can’t remember the time, I know I was glad I was there, in the recovery room, and this nurse was ON IT. There were a couple of other patients there too. One woman kinda moaned and another nurse began speaking to her to help her into consciousness. It was a weird limbo-land, and some people were having a harder time waking up. I was excited about getting to my room.
I was getting wheeled up to my room and the ON IT recovery nurse met my post-op floor nurse and took my catheter out once we got into my room, to give me privacy, she said. That was thoughtful and something I really appreciated, given that I was not in the headspace to ask for that type of consideration. Someone handed me my phone, and I asked if it was OK to call my dad and my boyfriend. I’m feeling good and think I’m doing great after my surgery and I’m ready to FaceTime them to share the good news--I made it! They answer and they are at GIBSON’S steakhouse celebrating my successful surgery. HA! Good for them. Though I wished I was at Gibson’s with them too. Dr. Azizi had already called my father to let him know that my surgery was a success, that he removed all 11 fibroids, and that I did well and was in recovery.
Not too long thereafter, my post-op nurse wanted to give me my pain meds. I started feeling all nauseous, probably from the anesthesia, and I was nervous about taking the pain meds because I felt so upset to my stomach. So, luckily, my nurse didn’t make me take it; she allowed me to figure out what I wanted to do. I’m lying there feeling like, oh boy, now what? So, I called my friend Leslie, who used to be a registered nurse. I think, Leslie will know what to do. I can only imagine how I sounded. I felt so nauseous, and I explained to her that the nurse wanted to give me my pain medicine, but I was nervous to take it because I felt sick to my stomach. All I remember is Leslie communicating that I don’t know that the pain medication will cause nausea. OK, so I’ll ask the nurse for the pain medication. That was my first big post-op turning point. After I took my pain medication, the nausea went away! The second big turning point arrived when the nurse asked me how I was doing, and I told her I felt a burning sensation at the incision area. She asked me if I wanted an ice bag, and that sounded like the best idea ever! Yes, please! From then on, and with the help of others, I felt capable of resting to recover and heal. Having the experience of my actual needs being met as they arose helped me feel safe and comfortable. These significant healing experiences enabled me to move forward, all from the comfort of my fancy hospital bed immediately following surgery.
The nurses at St. Joseph’s Hospital helped take care of me so that I could take care of myself. The care I received was incredible. I wanted to get up not very long after I was brought to my room. With COVID, there was no room sharing, which turned out to be a major bonus--I had my own private room! I wanted to go to the bathroom, and I wanted to walk in the hallway a little. It all happened with the nurses’ help, guidance, and supervision. If I needed more water, I just pressed a button and I had water. The day of my surgery, I was on clear liquids only. Jell-O was great! My evening nurse asked me what number my pain level was. When I was in bed not moving, I thought it was about a six, but if I moved, that changed. The nurse didn’t give me the pain meds, stating that she only gives the pain meds if the pain is at a seven or higher. I didn’t argue with her, given I was a bit worried about the side effects of pain meds. However, I did think it was a little odd, given that I’d just had major abdominal surgery less than 12 hours earlier. I don’t remember much about that first night, so I did fine.
The next morning, my resident doctor visited me EARLY, like at 6 AM. I had a major bandage over my incision. It was huge, almost comically big, thick, and much larger than my incision. The resident doctor checked me out and then removed the bandage. The adhesive was super strong and later I developed a rash from it. The resident doctor was happy with the way my incision looked and gave me a pep talk about how to get out of the hospital. You want to know how I got out of the hospital? By passing gas. I know, gross, TMI, all of it! But when it happened, I felt like a victor. So, after the resident doctor left, the day nurse took over. When I told her that I wasn’t given the pain medication, her eyes opened wide, her brows raised, and she had this look of disbelief. She told me I had to ask for it, and then she got me the pain medication. Anyways, I wasn’t complaining. As long as I had my ice bag and ice water and my channel changer, I was happy. I was approved for a legit breakfast, and I ordered an omelet with toast off a menu with solid food! I was living large. More doctors came and visited me and told me that I was going to be discharged later that day. I was actually bummed; I was being so well cared for that I didn’t want to leave. I’m grateful that I felt that way. It says so much for the nurses who took such good care of me. Afterward, I made sure to send each nurse a thank-you card expressing my gratitude for their wonderful care. I feel blessed.
The day of my surgery, Wednesday, January 26, I told my surgeon, Dr. Azizi, that I wanted to see him before I left the hospital the next day, and he told me he would come to see me. On Thursday, the resident doctors told me that I was going to be discharged. I communicated that Dr. Azizi was coming to see me, and I wanted to wait to see him before I left. They told me that he wasn’t coming to the hospital. So, I figured that although he was supposed to come see me, something must have arisen that he needed to take care of, and I was good to go and it was time to leave. My nurse left the room for some reason and when she came back in, I was dressed. She did look surprised that I had gotten dressed all by myself. Funny, I did want privacy! My nurse wheeled me downstairs after I called my dad and boyfriend to pick me up. They were there in 10 minutes.
Once I got home, moving, walking, and getting into and out of bed were all very slow going. The pain medication was extremely helpful for me to move, rest, and sleep well, though I was anxious about the constipating side effects of pain medication, especially after having major abdominal surgery. My goal was to have no strain, or to at least minimize strain. Thanks to my first nurse out of surgery, I was an ice bag professional. My boyfriend turned into a post-op nurse extraordinaire, refilling my ice bag, bringing me broth on the fancy bed tray, and helping me in and out of bed. I felt better every day after the surgery. It wasn’t long before I felt better than before the surgery. Having those 11 fibroids removed from my uterus improved my energy, my comfort, the functioning of the systems of my body (namely my urinary and digestive systems), and I was looking better too!
On Monday, I called Dr. Azizi and reported that I had redness and itchiness around my hips. Dr. Azizi told me to come in so he could take a look. It turned out to be an allergic reaction or sensitivity to the adhesive from the serious bandaging over my incision/pelvis. My dad came with me to the appointment, and I was so happy that he could meet my surgeon! My father was leaving for Florida a couple days later and the doctor gave me approval to fly to Florida with him! So, guess who spent their recovery in sunny Florida? You know it--I DID! And I am so glad that I had the opportunity to go outside in the warmth and feel the sun on my skin. I was feeling good! I began to sit down and get up and get in and out of bed with a little less care. I also began to feel more pain. My body let me know that I needed to continue to consciously baby myself. I got serious about going slowly with greater care, plus giving myself regular doses of extra-strength Tylenol, icing, and rest. That worked. Then, after a couple of weeks, I felt curious about walking. I began with five minutes and after another week aimed for 10. I spoke with my doctor every week for six weeks after my surgery. Asking questions, telling him how grateful I was for him, and reminding him I was going to see him on week six, the anniversary of my surgery!
My surgeon had instructed me that I was not to do yoga for four to six weeks after the surgery. I planned on taking two weeks off teaching and returning to teach verbally without demonstrating the postures. But I realized that I needed three full weeks before I could verbally lead a yoga class. For those three weeks post-op, it wasn’t easy to talk. I felt some pulling around the incision area when I spoke for more than a short time, breathed deeply, coughed, or even laughed. My students were super supportive and encouraged me to take as much time as I needed to rest and heal before returning to teach. I knew that honoring myself with rest was vital to healing and being my best.
After three weeks, I started teaching live online classes verbally, without demonstrating the postures as I normally would, and I loved it. My regular students expressed their gratitude that I was back teaching and told me that I looked great, and I felt great! That was the whole point of having the surgery--to feel better--and I did.
I am so grateful for everyone who took care of me and made my surgical experience so profoundly positive. I flew home to Chicago on the six-week anniversary of my surgery, and Dr. Azizi gave me approval to resume my normal activities! I started doing gentle yoga the very next morning. I told myself I would do 15 minutes, but it felt so good I enjoyed 30 minutes of gentle yoga! I also resumed demonstrating the yoga postures in my live online yoga classes with modifications. Not long after, I flew out to California without wheelchair assistance in the airport! I’ve been walking a lot and doing yoga as I did before the surgery, not to mention I’m off the Tylenol and feeling great! I am motivated to get stronger and I’ve dedicated myself to feeling better and better and better, doing what I love and committing myself totally.
While in recovery and healing, I was struck by some observations--like how much better I felt after a major surgery thanks to rest and a whole food diet. My need for healing was in my face and my experience of healing was major. There was no way around it. I had to take excellent care of myself, or my body screamed at me. It occurred to me that so many of us are in need of healing. Healing from less-than-ideal lifestyle choices, as well as from past hurts and trauma. What if, when we experience discomfort or dis-ease, we were curious about what it is we need to experience greater ease? What if we were patient and curious and open enough to receive a response to satisfy our needs? What if we took time to develop a relationship with ourselves and our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs? What if we discovered that our feelings and emotions exist to communicate something bigger to ourselves? What if, when feeling emotions, instead of reacting, we stopped and inquired what that emotion was communicating, then listened to what arises in response?
This is the practice of self-inquiry and inner guidance. This practice is always there for us to lean into. Being open to receiving information on how to proceed, or maybe even waiting! When clarity arises, then go, do, act. Doing, or not doing, what is best may be different than what you think you should do or not do. There is a need to be open and trust the inner feeling that arises. Sometimes this is easy; sometimes this is challenging. With practice, trusting your deepest inner guidance feels best, even when it’s difficult. Like my decision to have surgery--that was a difficult decision, but I knew it was best for me.
Being guided from within is trusting in your Self. Healing, wholeness, and feeling better and better and better will happen within you. Radical shifts of perception and changed behaviors will occur, and when you feel better, and your energy and vitality increase, and the quality of your life improves, you receive confirmation and validation that you are in alignment with your True Self. It feels undeniable that the Universe, the Infinite, Divine Consciousness, the Great Spirit, or the Supreme Being will conspire to provide you with everything you need to be healthy, happy, and full of life. Feeling your connection to the Divine is easy, without resistance. All it takes is a moment to pause, breathe, relax, and inquire what is best for me now? And then listen for a response.
I am super excited to offer the first workshop of its kind, Finding Your Voice: Accessing Your Inner Guidance, on Saturday, May 21 with yogaview Chicago. The workshop will be offered both in person and live online. Please join Alie to learn ways to access your inner guidance and be guided from within! Click HERE to register.
I’d love to hear from you! Please share your experience with me below.
Namaste,
Alie