A year after my mum passed?
The nightmare of fibroids strolled into my life.
Unannounced.
First, I bled.
Too much and too often.
Then my belly started swelling.
Round and tight like I was 7 months pregnant.
And the pain?
It was sharp.
Impossible to ignore.
Doctors?
They handed me pills.
But nothing changed except my mood.
Angry one minute, crying the next.
Then the doctor said, “You’ll need surgery.”
“Surgery”? I shouted. Horrified.
As I walked out of the hospital,
a voice in my head whispered, “This will kill you too.”
Just like it killed your mother.
I felt goosebumps all over.
“No way,” I thought.
I couldn’t let that happen to me.
So I started searching.
Desperately.
For a way out.
So, I jumped on a plane.