My Fibroid Journey by Maimuna Garba [Part 2]

by Editorial Staff | Jun 18, 2024 | Diaries

I can’t believe I’m about to go down this lane again of writing about fibroids.

There was a time I dreaded the word “fibroid”, sadly because for almost 3 years, fibroid took charge of my life, I couldn’t have a normal life as I was constantly in pain; my stomach, my back, my feet, every part of my body hurt. My blood level never went past 18% no matter how much I tried to eat right. I was bleeding days on end.

I remember on day I was driving to work, I started having severe cramps, for someone who was used to being in constant pain, I thought I could handle the pain. Barely 5 minutes away from home, the pain went from a 30 to a 100. I was in so much pain I thought I would pass out behind the wheels. I managed to get to the office, requested for an uber to take me straight to the hospital, I called my siblings to meet me in the hospital. I pitied the uber driver as he was so confused, by the time I got to the hospital, the back seat was drenched in blood, I kept apologizing to the uber driver, and he kept saying I’m sorry madam with so much fear in his eyes. I was immediately admitted, given some pain killers. I dozed off for like 5 minutes and the pain came back with a vengeance. The doctor immediately ordered for a scan. All the while I thought my friends “the fibroids” were the culprit, but this time around the scan was pointing towards hernia. We were all shocked, because I always thought that hernia was a ‘male’ thing. The pain wasn’t abating and my siblings were getting impatient. They decided to move me to another hospital. By the time we got to the 2^nd hospital I just wanted die at least that will end my pain.

I was immediately admitted and a CT scan was carried out. The CT scan confirmed the scan in the previous hospital, it was the hernia that was causing the pain. The doctors said I needed immediate surgery. The surgery could not be done as my blood level was too low. I had to undergo a blood transfusion. The next day, the doctors came to do a review and to propose a date for the surgery. I asked them if I could go and think about it since the pain had reduced and I wasn’t in danger anymore. The doctors discharged me and I went home. At this point I still wasn’t convinced that surgery was not my only option. I went back to my normal life (the constant pain and endless bleeding). I went on to try and look for other solutions. I would try anything and everything. I spent thousands of naira buying herbal medicines. I was taking them religiously, the symptoms would abate for a short time and once I stopped, the pains and bleeding came in full force.

I started experiencing fainting spells. My blood level had dropped to 14%. I had to undergo another blood transfusion. The scan showed that the fibroids were scattered all over and there was a particular one right in the middle of my uterus that was responsible for the excessive bleeding. This time around, I had consultation with a gynecologist who had over 35 years’ experience. He spoke to me not just as my doctor, but as a father. He placated me, I kept complaining of how I had done a previous myomectomy and was so terrified of having another myomectomy and all the cons I have read about multiple myomectomy. The major one being difficulty in conceiving naturally. The doctor went ahead to give me stories of women who had multiple myomectomy who still went on to conceive and had children. At that point I began to embrace the idea of another surgery. I wanted this particular doctor to do the surgery, but the fee for the procedure in his hospital was over a million naira. I had to look for an affordable alternative and someone who could do it as good as the doctor with 35 years’ experience.

So my search for a doctor and hospital began. I was working in the health sector so I knew who to speak with. I spoke to some couple of people in my hospital circle, they gave some doctors names. One of my uncle was told about my ordeal and he asked that I go to Army Command and NAOWA Hospital. As usual, I dragged my feet about going, but decided to go when my family continued to push I go. Immediately I stepped my foot in the hospital, something in me just knew I was in the right place (I had prayed for Allah’s guidance before setting out to the hospital). I met a lovely lady (we are good friend’s now) at the front desk. I told her why I was there, I made all the necessary enquiries. I asked her to please grant me audience as I needed to speak to her in private. I told her my story (my previous myomectomy journey and how I needed to have a very good doctor handle my case). She told me that NAOWA had a track record of carrying out successful myomectomy surgeries and in fact one of her friend just went through the same surgery some days ago and it was very successful. At that point, my mind had calmed down. I was gradually accepting my reality of having a second surgery. My new friend helped me to register and booked me to see a doctor the coming week Tuesday. Tuesday came and I was in the hospital before 7am, as it was clinic days for pregnant women too. I waited till about 12pm before it was my time to go in. A very beautiful female doctor was seated behind the desk with her assistant by her side. We exchanged pleasantries and I told her why I was there. She requested I do another scan in their facility. I did the scan, of course, I knew what the result was going to be, so I wasn’t surprised. When the doctor looked at the scan result and my blood work, she told me what every other doctor has been saying “surgery”. I accepted my fate and told her to book me. I was booked for July 22^nd 2022. I was expected to be admitted in the hospital on the 21^st of July.

I checked into the hospital on the 21^st of July, series of test were carried out, as usual my blood was too low for me to go into surgery. I had to do a blood transfusion that Thursday evening. On Friday morning, my doctor came, did a review, asked for another test to know if my blood level had come up, the test was done and the doctor said it still wasn’t enough to get me into surgery, I needed to get another pint of blood and because of that the surgery couldn’t be done on the 22^nd. My doctor rescheduled the surgery for the 23^rd. I woke up on the 23^rd, I was prepared for surgery, all the shaving, the pep talk. We were waiting, waiting for minutes turned into hours. I started getting agitated, I demanded to know why a surgery that was slated for 10am hadn’t started and this was almost 1pm. The nurse went to get the doctor. The doctor came (not my doctor) and casually told me that they are sorry, but the surgery has been postponed. I was shocked and livid at that moment, I lost it. I was shouting down the hospital, how was my surgery postponed and no one deemed it fit to inform me. I had lost my patience and was ready to bring down the hospital. My parents, siblings and partner were all trying to get me to calm down. They said I should take it as an act from Allah, just maybe it wasn’t the right time for the surgery to be done. I had to calm down and asked to speak to my doctor. She called me and I registered my displeasure. I asked her since the surgery didn’t take place, when was it going to take place? She said she was busy, the surgery has to be rescheduled to a week after. This got me upset again, I told her I couldn’t wait for another week. I had been placed on Primolut N for almost a week just so I don’t bleed and if my period comes, they won’t be able to do the surgery and the blood transfusion would have been in vain as I would likely bleed out the whole blood again.

My doctor said I should give her some time to see if she can get her other colleague to do the surgery since I couldn’t wait for her to return.  She called me, her colleague had agreed to do the surgery, I was booked for the 25^th of July. I left the hospital that Saturday night, and was to return Sunday evening. I checked back in on Sunday evening, they conducted some test again and I was certified ready for the surgery the next day. The day came, I was prepared for the surgery. The anesthetic came and asked what type of anesthesia I would like. I told him I wanted to be conscious during the surgery. The nurses came to wheel me to the theatre. My sister followed me down to the theatre. We said our goodbyes, I was trying to remain calm just the way I could see my sister was trying to remain calm. In the theatre, I finally meet the doctor who agreed to do the surgery. He asked if I was married, if I have kids, he told me not to worry that the surgery will be over before I know it. The procedure began and the doctor and I were gisting, I just noticed that his disposition changed, he asked me “you said you are not married”, I told him again I wasn’t, then he jokingly asked me “is there someone you broke his heart” I laughed and I asked why he asked, he kept quiet. Some seconds after, I felt a sharp pain, I screamed, the doctor asked “Maimuna, did you feel that” I said yes, then I heard him tell one of the theatre attendant to call in the general surgeon now. The general surgeon came in and I could over hear them talking, my doctor was saying the fibroid were everywhere and the best option was to do a hysterectomy, as soon as I heard that, my heart sank, I just did a short prayer, I said “Ya Allah, if this is what’s best for me, Alhamdulilah”. The doctor came back again, “Maimuna, you said you are not married and don’t have any kids” I nodded, then he told me, “do not worry, we will do our possible best to save your uterus”. He went back to work, I felt a sharp pain, I noticed he signaled to the anesthetic and that was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up at about 10pm, I asked what time it was and they told me. I asked how long the surgery lasted and I was told I was in the theatre for 6 and half hours. I was drifting in and out of consciousness. This time around, the post-surgery pain was minimal. The next morning, my doctor came to brief me. He said I’ll have to stay for at least 8 days without taking anything, because I had 4 major surgeries done. I was shocked. He said they had to do the myomectomy (they didn’t do the hysterectomy again after I told him I do not have any child), a hernia surgery was done, an endometrial polyp surgery and in the process of trying to take out the fibroids, my bowels were ruptured, so they had to fix that and that’s the reason why I couldn’t eat anything because they needed to be sure that the bowel had healed to avoid another rupture. That explained why the surgery took so long, the surgery was conducted by 2 teams. My previous doctor’s assistant came to check on me as she was also assigned to manage my case. She said “Maimuna, if I wasn’t a firm believer, your case would have made me believe that witch craft do exist. She said for over an hour, they were trying to figure out my anatomy as the whole of my insides were in utter mess, they couldn’t tell what was what. She said , it was like the fibroids was cemented to your insides, some they just couldn’t access, but the doctor told them that he promised he was going to do his best , so they needed to get every fibroid out to reduce the chances of the fibroids reoccurring anytime soon. She said, when you leave this hospital, please, go and thank Allah as all she could think is Allah was on my side”. I was shocked to my bones. I was filled with gratitude. The recovery period was smooth, but God I was hungry, the 8 days felt like a year. I was begging them to please let me take something, even if it was just a drop of water. The doctors said I couldn’t take anything. Then my second fear came, the ulcer started bleeding, they had to start treating the ulcer, I still was not allowed to take anything only fluid through IV. By the second day, they said I needed to get off the bed so I don’t get blood clots. I tried, it was so painful, but my mom, sisters and the nurses helped. By the fourth day, I was getting up from the bed with a little bit of aid. I was placed on many antibiotics, many pain killers (there is one I can never forget, “penta”, that drug was from the pit of hell). It made me act hysterical. I had to ask for it to be discontinued (thinking about it now, I’m laughing so hard).

On the 9^th day, I couldn’t take it anymore, I said they needed to give me something to drink or eat or else I’ll die. I had not farted yet, one of the doctors asked that my sister get me tom-tom. I started taking tom-tom, it wasn’t what I was looking forward to take because on a regular day, I don’t take it, but I was just glad that I finally had something in my stomach. By the time I was on my 4^th tom-tom, I farted, I was so excited, I was screaming with the little energy I had. I asked my sister to inform the nurse that I had farted. I thought shey I have farted, why was I not asked to take at least water. The next day when the doctor who asked me to take the tom-tom came, I cried to him and said “doctor, you said once I pass gas, I’ll be allowed to take something” he started apologizing, saying I was supposed to be informed to start taking liquids, those were music to my ears. I told my mom, please, give me water. I had to take little sips. I was allowed to take lipton, pap and to the glory of Allah, I was able to poo. The doctor was informed that I pooped. He said that was what they were waiting for, it showed that my bowels had healed.

A total of 35 fibroids were removed, my doctor who lead the surgery said in his 25 years of practice, he had only seen my kind of case twice. On the 11^th day, I was discharged from the hospital, I was so happy to be going home, but then came another bomb shell. One of the doctors came in to tell me all I should do, all I should avoid and then she goes “has anyone come to talk to you”? I said talk to me about what? She said “because of your previous surgery, there were a lot of adhesions and with this difficult surgery you just underwent, you may not be able to have kids”. My world stopped that very moment. My sisters started to cry, I told the doctor thank you and I was ready to go home. At that moment, I didn’t want to think about anything, I had just gone through a difficult 11 days of my life. I just wanted to go home. I had to be coming to the hospital for my stitch to be dressed as some part of the stitch broke down. That was another painful process, but hey, the worst was over. After 2 weeks, I had a review with the doctor who carried out the surgery, I told him what the other doctor told me when I was about to be discharged. He was furious, he said “I performed your surgery, I didn’t tell you that, all I’m going to tell you is to go and start trying for a baby”. I was relieved for a brief moment, deep down in me, I said “Allah, you are making me go through another test, Ya Allah, You know that unmarried and as a Muslim, I’m not supposed to have a child outside wedlock, how do I do what the doctor is asking me to do???  

My Fibroid Journey by Maimuna Garba

by Editorial Staff | Jun 18, 2024 | Diaries

My name is Maimuna Garba, and this is my Fibroid journey.

During my university days, almost towards my final year, that was around 2011, I started experiencing heavy bleeding. At first, I took it as a normal thing, and attributed it to stress, because anyone who was in the final year in the university knows how stressful it can be. Not only did the flow become heavier, but I also started experiencing cramps and clots during my menstrual period. My period days increased from 3 days to five days, to 7 days. I didn’t take it to be anything and still attributed it to stress.

I went on with my normal activities but dreaded seeing my monthly cycle because it turned into a scary experience. It became so severe, that I rarely go out any time it was that time of the month. Even when I had to go to school, it was with a full bag of sanitary towels, toilet paper, extra underwear and if possible change of clothes because one could never predict the flow.

I decided this was not a normal experience and I had to see a doctor but didn’t know which hospital to go to in Jos that had a good gynaecologist. I asked around and some people gave recommendations.

On that faithful day when I set out to go to the hospital, my mum asked if I was ill. I told her I needed to do a check-up because I didn’t understand the symptoms I have been having. I got to the hospital, did the necessary procedure of registering and getting a card. I was nervous and afraid.

All sorts of ideas had crossed my mind, was I dying, was it cancer? My name was called and I went into the doctor’ office, he asked the usual questions, when I saw my period last and all that. I told him about all the symptoms I have been experiencing and he asked me to lay down so he could do a physical examination. As soon as he placed his hands around my pelvic area, I felt a very sharp pain, the doctor looked at me and said, ‘do you know you have fibroid?’

As soon as he blotted those words, the world stopped, I was trying to process what I had just heard. The doctor asked again and I got jolted back to reality, I said fibroid how come? He said as he touched my pelvic area, he could feel it, but to further get a confirmation, he said he will do a scan.

The scan confirmed my fears, it was indeed fibroid. I was perplexed, my thoughts were racing all over the place. The doctor asked a couple of more questions like if we had a family history of fibroid and all, I answered in affirmative. I told him I thought these things do not occur except in women in their 40s (I was just 27 years old). He told me he had operated on a 16-year-old who had fibroid. I was shocked. He gave me a pep talk reassuring me that having fibroid does not mean I won’t be able to conceive and it could be treated with surgery. Two types of surgery were required to treat fibroid. One was uterine myomectomy which was the removal of the non-cancerous cells known as the fibroid and the other treatment option was a hysterectomy, which was the complete removal of the uterus.

He suggested I take the former treatment plan because I was not married and had not had children. The latter treatment option was for women who had had kids and didn’t have a need for their uterus anymore. The doctor gave me some medication to help with the pain and the excessive loss of blood. He told me to go home and think about when I wanted the surgery to be. I thanked him and left the hospital.

It was the longest drive of my life that day, I thought of all sorts; how could I have this, where did I go wrong, what did I do? The questions were endless. I got home, I told my mom, called my sisters who were in school and told them too… It’s was an emotional moment. We were all crying. My mom told me she will support whatever decision I made. My sisters were also supportive.

I managed the symptoms with the medications, but it really didn’t help, I had a terrible habit then of taking fizzy drinks (I didn’t know I was doing a lot of harm to myself) the fibroid kept growing.

During my first visit to the doctor, the biggest size of the fibroid was about 6cm, after 6 months when I went for another scan, the size of the biggest of the fibroid grew to 11cm…unknown to me, the fizzy drinks and dairy products were feeding the fibroid and making them grow at a faster rate. I had to do a test called HSG to know if my fallopian tubes were blocked(that test was a test from hell) it was so painful, it was like my whole insides were tangled and were trying to untangle.

It took me 4 days to recover after doing that test. I had graduated, the symptoms were more severe. One morning I woke up and decided I couldn’t take the pain anymore, I was going in for the surgery. I informed my mom, she was her usual self, very supportive and calm. We went together to book the appointment for the surgery, I told some of my family members… Some were of the opinion I should not do the surgery, my mind was made up, I couldn’t deal with the pain any longer.

The surgery was scheduled for the 21st of March 2014, which was almost a year after discovering I had fibroid. I had done extensive research on the fibroid. I prepared my mind for the worse (which was death). Prior to the surgery date, I had bled the whole month of February into March.

When I went to see the doctor for a final check-up on the 20th of March, I was still bleeding. He told me if the bleeding didn’t stop, they couldn’t carry out the surgery, because it was a life-threatening situation. I went back home and I prayed, I was tired of all the physical and emotional pain. My mental health was also suffering.

By the mercy of Allah SWT, the blood stopped on the night of the 20th. On the 21st of March, I packed my bags with my mom in tow and went to the hospital. I tried to remain calm because my blood pressure could not rise beyond a certain level, if not the surgery will be cancelled. The surgery was slated for 2 pm. I had my family around me. The situation was tense, but I tried to make jokes so everyone could relax. By 1 pm, the surgery team came in and gave me some talks again, asked if I wanted to be put to sleep or I wanted to be conscious. I chose the latter.

At 1:30 pm, it was time to go, I hugged my mom, my family members and told them, I’ll see you all later in shaa Allah. Some of them had tears in their eyes, I braced up and walked out of the room (I didn’t let them wheel me into the theatre). I walked in myself. I said my prayers and lay down waiting for the unknown.

The surgery took almost 3 hours. I was wheeled out at about 5:00 pm. The anaesthetic was still in effect, but I could feel the pains. They sedated me and I fell asleep. I woke up at about midnight with very severe pain. I was crying and weeping and asked for water. They said I couldn’t drink anything. I was crying and shouting. The pain was unbearable. The nurse on duty that night was the sweetest nurse I have ever met (we became friends to date)

I started vomiting, I vomited blood all on the nurse. I was apologizing to her and weeping at the same time. She told me not to worry, that it’s okay, she sedated me again and I went back to sleep. Apparently, it was an ulcer that was making me vomit. In the morning, the pains were more severe. They had to call the consultant who then said they didn’t have to wait for me to fart, they could give me Lipton to drink because I had an ulcer.

I stayed five days in the hospital. Recovery was painful and very slow. I was in and out of hospital for two months. At one point I just wanted to die so all the pains could end. My mom was there every step of the way. My family was also there.

For 2 months, I couldn’t eat anything. Nothing will stay down, everything I ate, I vomited. My blood level was low (17%). I had to have a blood transfusion in that 2 months of gruesome pain. I felt like I was carrying a stone in my stomach, I couldn’t walk upright. The doctors had scanned, they could not figure what was wrong, but I was in pain and wasn’t eating. In one of the checks up, the doctor said if they couldn’t find out what was wrong, I may have to go back to the theatre, be opened up to see what was really happening inside of me.

The night before the scheduled second surgery, I went into the bathroom to pee, after peeing, I stood up, I felt a liquid coming out, I thought I was still peeing, but it wasn’t pee, it was pus from my operation site. I screamed for my mom, the whole house was in pandemonium. I was rushed back to the hospital. They had to open up the stitches a bit to suck out all the pus, they did that for 5 days. It was after this that I started to fully recover. It was a scary and painful experience.

After the surgery, my period went back to normal, it lasted 3 days, the flow wasn’t heavy. I was happy… But that didn’t last long. After 3 years, the heavy periods were back, the period went from 3 days to 7 days, the clots were bigger. I was back in the hospital. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong because the scan wasn’t showing anything, they suspected a lot of things including adenomyosis.

I was asked to do another HSG to determine what was happening, and I did. This was timeless painful because the doctor gave me some injections and medication on the day I went for the HSG. I was afraid, I didn’t want to go through another experience of pain. The HSG results came out and my worst fear was confirmed, the fibroid was back.

This time around, I was calm, I prayed, I said oh Allah, I do not know why you are giving me all these trials, but I know it’s for the best and you are never wrong. I was expected to conceive after the first surgery to eliminate the chances of the fibroid reoccurring. But since I wasn’t married, there was no way I could have conceived. I made up my mind I did not want another surgery and was going to manage it to the best of my ability. I did further research, found some supplements online that claimed they could shrink fibroid without surgery, and bought a whole lot of them, I drank, but when nothing changed, I stopped buying.

This time around I knew I had to control my diet, so I don’t have the fibroid growing at a fast pace. I had stopped taking fizzy drinks, dairy products. To the glory of God, the fibroid didn’t grow bigger, they remained the size they were when it was discovered again. I also tried to control my stress level, because, in the course of my research, I found out that stress made the fibroid symptoms worse.

I’m still managing it, I have learned to live with it, I have learned to not let it dictate my life. Some days I feel overwhelmed by the pain and the bleeding, other days I just try and be happy and LIVE.

One thing I noticed is, I didn’t find support groups for people living with fibroid, because there were days I wanted to talk to someone who was experiencing what I was experiencing, but I couldn’t find any. If there is anyone going through this, you can reach out to me, we can start our own support group for women who had/have a fibroid.

Read My Fibroid Journey part 2