The Ten-Year Journey: From Misdiagnosis to Life-Changing Discovery

For years, I knew something was wrong. Deep down, I felt it in my bones, but no one seemed to believe me. Doctor after doctor told me it was depression. “You’re stressed,” they’d say, “you need to see a therapist.” It was like they couldn’t see past the surface, unable to recognise that the pain I was experiencing was more than emotional. My body was screaming at me - constant heartburn, debilitating migraines, and an inability to keep food down - but it felt like the world was ignoring those cries.

For roughly ten long years, I searched for answers. I was gaining weight rapidly, particularly in my stomach, which was frustrating and confusing. I remember the constant barrage of advice from well-meaning people - exercise more, eat less, try different diets. But no one could see what was really happening beneath the surface. The bloating, the migraines, the daily struggle to even function, all of it became part of a routine, as I tried to keep going despite feeling like my body was betraying me.

The turning point came when, finally, a doctor discovered a 38cm tumor - a mass the size of a newborn baby, weighing as much as twins - growing on my uterus. It was the answer I had been searching for, but it came with a terrible cost. By the time it was diagnosed, it was too late for anything but an emergency hysterectomy. In that moment, I lost the option of ever having children. That loss hit me hard, like a door slamming shut on a future I had always imagined. I had no choice but to accept it.

But that wasn’t all. The doctors warned me that the tumor was likely cancerous. If it was, I would have only a 75% chance of living for just five more years. The weight of that possibility was overwhelming. I had to sit with that terrifying thought for a month or so before the surgery, thinking that I might not have a future beyond five years. It was an emotional rollercoaster, a dark cloud that followed me through every moment leading up to the operation.

On day five after the surgery, the biopsy results came back, and the news was both shocking and relieving. The tumor wasn’t cancerous as they had suspected - it was gangrene. While still terrifying, it was a much better outcome than what I had been preparing myself for. The relief was immense, but that doesn’t mean the experience hasn’t left its mark on me.

Living with Anxiety and PTSD

The whole ordeal, from misdiagnosis to the scare of potentially only having five more years to live, has left a permanent imprint on me. I’ve struggled with anxiety for years, but after this experience, it’s intensified. It’s a kind of anxiety that lingers, quietly present in the background, sometimes rushing to the forefront when I least expect it. I can’t shake the feeling that something else could go wrong at any moment, and that feeling leads to an ongoing battle with a mild form of PTSD.

There are moments that trigger me, like Mother’s Day - a day that used to be about celebration but now serves as a painful reminder of the loss I’ve experienced. I’ll never forget the Mother’s Day when I broke down completely. I was hysterically crying and couldn’t breathe. My anxiety had taken over, and I knew I needed help. I drove myself to the doctor’s office, tears streaming down my face, barely able to see the road. When I arrived, the doctor gave me Valium to calm me down, and I had to lie to my family, telling them I had a headache and couldn’t participate in the celebrations that day. It felt like I was drowning in grief and sadness, alone in a room full of people who couldn’t understand what was happening inside me.

A New Outlook on Life

While the physical battle was difficult, the emotional and mental battle has been just as challenging. But through it all, I’ve found ways to keep going. My outlook on life has shifted in ways I couldn’t have imagined before this experience. Facing the real possibility of only having five years left made me realise how precious time is. It’s made me more determined to live my life fully, to focus on the things that matter most, and to let go of the things that don’t.

I’ve become more mindful, more intentional about how I spend my time and energy. I no longer take things for granted. My health, my relationships, my work - all of it matters more now because I know how easily it can be taken away. I’ve learned to navigate the triggers, to acknowledge them and find ways to work through them. I still struggle, but I’m stronger now. I know that life isn’t guaranteed, and that understanding gives me the courage to push forward, even on the hardest days.

How I Navigate Triggers and Anxiety Today

To manage my anxiety and the emotional aftermath of this experience, I’ve developed coping strategies that help me stay grounded. I’ve turned to meditation and mindfulness practices to calm my mind and keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control. Physical exercise, like walking with my greyhound Lucy, has also become a crucial part of my routine, helping me release stress and maintain a sense of balance. And great doctor with all the medications!

I’ve also leaned heavily into reading and exploring self-help books, which has become a passion of mine. These books offer practical advice and actionable steps for managing mental health, and I’ve made it my mission to share what I learn with others. By implementing the strategies I find in these books and reporting back to my followers, I hope to offer guidance to those who might be going through similar struggles.

Life is unpredictable, and while I’ve faced some of the darkest moments, I’m grateful for the strength I’ve gained along the way. I’m still here, still fighting, and still working toward a life filled with purpose and meaning. Each day is a gift, and even though the road hasn’t been easy, I’m determined to make the most of it.