How I learnt to come to terms with my endometriosis diagnosis

I’m sipping a cup of lemongrass tea looking at mango orchards framing the sun, which sets lazily into the horizon. I’ve just finished an Ayurvedic massage where I was rubbed down with red rice and milk, followed by shirodhara, which has calmed me to a state of divine bliss. I can taste the warm, sun-ripened strawberry in my mouth, which I’d plucked from the garden during my walk. Today is one of the few moments in life when I feel pure happiness. And this feeling has come into my life because I suffer from grade IV endometriosis—my friend, enemy, teacher and guide.

When I was first diagnosed with grade IV endometriosis in 2006, I didn’t understand the complexities of the disease. I never understood that this battle would change my personality and transform me into the person I am today. Nobody knows what really causes endometriosis. Modern medicine says it’s because of oestrogen dominance, acupuncture suggests an imbalance of chi (energy), while Ayurveda says that it is a vata disorder. Whatever the reason may be, like most gynaecological conditions, the beginnings of this disease can be traced back to emotional stress. “Emotions reach the uterus before medicine does,” says Dr Supriya Gugle, a Pune-based Ayurvedic gynaecologist, who took my pulse earlier this week. Being an empath, I tend to feel things deeply, which leads to worry, fear and overthinking. If it wasn’t for my endometriosis I would have carried on being a people pleaser, putting other’s needs before my own. But recurring IVF rounds and surgeries made me prioritise my own needs. Over the last few years I’ve had to weed negative influences out of my life, because toxic emotions could trigger yet another bout of pain. I’ve had to think about what caused my disease to come back over and over again.

“I ate every superfood that was trending at any given moment—raw cacao, moringa, chaga mushrooms”

I first started yoga eight years ago to prepare for my IVF sessions. The pregnancy didn’t come through, but I got the gift of yoga because of endometriosis. When I started practicing, I was a size 14. The combination of Zoladex injections and fertility treatments made me put on weight, which was impossible to work off. “The injections made you menopausal; this is your body now, you can’t change it,” said my gynaecologist about 10 years back. So when I practiced yoga, I didn’t do it to lose weight. I did it because it made me happy. Still, despite my best efforts the pain didn’t go away. I was continuously on birth control pills, but at the same time I tried crystal healing, yoga nidra and positive affirmations. I ate every superfood that was trending at any given moment—raw cacao, moringa, chaga mushrooms. I gave up gluten and dairy and drank ghee every morning. I learnt chakra meditation, did level I and II of Reiki, found a healing mantra and went out and bought a japa mala. I also took a Vipassana course, where for the first time in my life I experienced unadulterated happiness. Yogis believe that spiritual practices neutralise your karmas so you can follow your life path. I have no doubt that today I’m where I’m meant to be. I would have never experienced my own evolution if it wasn’t for my endometriosis.

But even though I felt I was in the clear, I wasn’t prepared for the worst that was yet to come. In December 2016, as soon as I completed my 300-hour yoga teacher training, I was wheeled in for an emergency surgery. The doctor suggested a hysterectomy, but at 38, I wasn’t prepared to lose my ovaries and uterus, so she removed the tennis-ball sized cyst that was giving me pain. Relief was short lived though: just a few months later, in July 2017, during the week I got my book deal from Penguin, I was in excruciating pain yet again, and finally chose to have the hysterectomy. And a year later, a month before my book launch, I was rushed in for yet another surgery—more pain caused by yet another endometrial tumour.

Looking back, my book Glow became an overnight success not only because it was relevant for today, but also because it was deeply personal. I tried every herb, fruit, grain and oil to reduce pain and eliminate disease. If it wasn’t for my disease, I wouldn’t have half the knowledge I have today. In Vipassana they talk about the difference between believing and understanding. You’re reading my story right now and believe that I was in pain. But you will never understand how I felt unless you too have had this disease. So when I talk about wellness it doesn’t come from a belief, or something I read in a book or a journal. My knowledge comes from experience, which I’ve got because of endometriosis.

“Maharishi Mahesh Yogi says that when you’re in deep trouble, shoot in all directions—and so I did”

This January I was in pain again. The endo was back—a small collection that was sitting on my colon. “I can’t do more surgeries on you, or it will get very complicated,” said my doctor. “Try acupuncture, if you can find a good practitioner,” Alongside ,he gave me six weeks of steroids and some supplements. Rare is a doctor who will ask you to give alternative medicine a chance. But Dr Debasis Dutta at Sir Gangaram Hospital is a real gem. Pity I found him only after my hysterectomy. Maharishi Mahesh Yogi says that when you’re in deep trouble, shoot in all directions. And so I did. I went to Dr Adil Khan, a renowned acupuncturist in Delhi after he was recommended by a close friend. In one session Dr Khan removed the heaviness in my pelvis. In three sessions the pain was completely gone. With the help of acupuncture, my digestion improved remarkably. This is very important, because excess oestrogen is thrown out of the body when your systems are regular. Otherwise it will get reabsorbed and cause oestrogen dominance, which is responsible not just for endometriosis but also breast cancer.

Five sessions a week made me feel extremely light hearted. Acupuncture got rid of anxiety and fear, which are also caused by hormonal imbalances. The second thing I did was to find a good Ayurvedic doctor. I post a lot about endometriosis on Instagram and every time I do, I get tremendous response from others in the same boat. All these years I thought I was alone with a rare disease, but its remarkable that there are so many of us out there. One of my followers told me that her condition was completely cured with a panchakarma treatment called virechana. So with the help of another knowledgeable friend, I found Dr Subhash Ranade, chairman of the International Academy of Ayurveda. He gave me some Ayurvedic churnas and jams to prepare me for my panchakarma.

“The fact is that we are born to have it all, and tough times like these make us understand that we are capable of getting everything we want”

Meanwhile I also visited a healer. While I have visited healers before, I couldn’t completely connect with their energy. But this wasn’t the case with Dr Roma Singh, traditional Reiki grandmaster and teacher, clinical hypnotherapist and past life regressionist. A visiting master at Ananda in The Himalayas, Dr Singh’s sessions helped me release emotional traumas that were contributing to my illness. My surgeries and book promotions left me feeling tired to the bone. I don’t know how she did it, but my tiredness was gone after those sessions. These days, I’m at the Tanman Ayurvedic Research Centre in Pune, under Dr Ranade’s care. I’m drinking ghee shots every morning to prepare for virechana, which will be followed up with basti. Both are purgation therapies to pull out all blockages and toxins from the pelvis and lower abdomen. I’m confident that they will work. My neighbour at this Ayurvedic centre is an ascetic who stays in an ashram ahead of Uttarkashi. “When I saw you, my impression was of supreme health, I couldn’t imagine that you would have any sort of illness—it just shows how much personal power you hold inside,” he said. My faith in my personal power, trust in my own intuition are the biggest gifts that endometriosis has bestowed upon me. Somewhere along the way, I had lost my sense of self-belief, but after fighting this battle for more than a decade, I know that I can bounce back from anything.

My friend often remarks that I have nine lives. “Just nine?” I laugh. But I’m not joking. We women always think that we can’t have it all. I feel its a ruse to get us to compromise (I hate this word). But it’s this negative belief that prevents us from getting everything we want. The fact is that we are born to have it all, and tough times like these make us understand that we are capable of getting everything we want.

Vasudha Rai has been writing on beauty and wellness for more than 15 years. She’s the author of Glow: Indian Foods, Recipes and Rituals for Beauty Inside and Out, and blogs regularly on Vbeauty.co

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