That Moment When Surgery Felt Too Fast — My Story

It started suddenly: sharp, painful swelling at the side of my jaw. It looked like I’d swallowed a golf ball. This happened less than a week ago.

I found the first doctor I could get an appointment with. I didn’t know him, but he worked quickly, examined me, ordered a scan, and told me to get it done immediately.

Within hours, the scan was complete. I went back to see him, expecting a conversation. Instead, he looked at the report, nodded, and said: “We’ll need to admit you today.”

Admission arranged. IV antibiotics started. Surgery scheduled.

All of it, without a real conversation.

But as I sat there, my inner voice whispered something I couldn’t ignore: This is too fast. I am feeling rushed.

I began asking questions about what general anaesthesia would be like, my options, timing, recovery. And that’s when it happened.

But as I sat there, my inner voice whispered something I couldn’t ignore: This is too fast. I am feeling rushed.

I began asking questions about what general anaesthesia would be like, my options, timing, recovery. And that’s when it happened.

That look.

Not overt. Not cruel. Just a flicker of impatience—a subtle tightening around the eyes. The kind of look that makes you wonder if you’re taking up too much space, if you’re asking too much.

I think many of us know that look.

Then something unexpected happened. The hospital called to say one of the instruments needed for surgery was broken and would take a week to repair.

It felt random—almost absurd—but it gave me exactly what I needed: time.

Time to understand.
Time to seek second and third opinions.
A moment to breathe and think.

And those few days changed everything.

I spoke with doctors I trusted, friends in medicine, people who helped me see the fuller picture. Nothing I’d been told was technically wrong. But so much of it was interpretation—coloured by urgency, by one particular lens, by a mindset that acts from fear rather than clarity.

That experience reminded me of something I’ve always believed, but this time I felt it deeply:

When it comes to our health, we must be our own advocates.

We can’t know everything. We do need expertise and guidance. But we also need to stay in the driver’s seat of our own bodies. 

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What being on both sides taught me

We all need expert guidance. That’s not in question. When something is wrong with our health, we need people who know more than we do.

But this experience reminded me that as someone who gives guidance—even though I’m not a surgeon making life-or-death decisions—there’s a responsibility that comes with that role.

No question should be dismissed. No fear should be met with anything less than “I’m here to work through this with you.”

The day I can’t do that is the day I need to pause and rethink what I’m doing.

Because at the core, whether you’re a surgeon or any other kind of practitioner, the need is the same: people need your expertise and they need to be heard. They need space to process and they need to choose.

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What I’m Doing to Prep My Body

For now, I am on a full-blown “stone reduction routine”. It it works, fantastic. If not…well, I’ll see you post-surgery.

Here’s what I’m learning in real-time: preparing for surgery (or anything that feels like a challenge) means facing a fundamental paradox. On one hand, I’m doing everything I can to help myself — researching, planning, advocating. But at a certain point, I have to let go. I have to sit with uncertainty. I have to hand over control — and I know for me, that is especially difficult.

Cheryl, the mindfulness coach at TNC, is helping me with tools to calm the nervous system. Here is what I’m doing in the weeks leading up to the procedure, both physically and mentally.

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1. Protect my gut (because antibiotics are brutal.

I’m on heavy-duty antibiotics, which means my microbiome is under siege.

• L-Glutamine + collagen → Gut lining support and collagen for tissue repair
• IgG Shield → Binds toxins and supports immune function at the gut barrier
• High-potency probiotics → 250 billion is what I’m aiming for + oral microbiome specific probiotics
• Daily cup of green soup → as a way of getting fiber + supporting liver detoxification

2. Counter steroid-induced insulin resistance

Steroids are lifesavers for inflammation—but they wreak havoc on blood sugar.

• Berberine (500mg 2x/day) → Lowers glucose and improves insulin sensitivity
• Alpha-lipoic acid (600mg/day) → Enhances glucose uptake and protects against oxidative stress
• Inositol (2-4g/day) → Improves insulin signalling
• Chromium picolinate (200-400mcg/day) → Supports healthy glucose metabolism
• Low-carb, high-protein diet → Minimizes glucose spikes and preserves muscle mass

3. Nervous system regulation and mindfulness

• Morning breathwork → 4-7-8 breathing (inhale for 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8). The key is keeping the exhale slower and longer through pursed lips—this activates the parasympathetic system for calm.
• 60-second resets (daily) → Especially between meetings or stressful moments. A single minute to pause, breathe, and reset. I’ve literally scheduled these in my calendar because sometimes it’s not about the length of the pause—it’s about giving myself that care.
• 7-9 hours sleep/night → Sleep deprivation can reduce immune function by up to 50%
• Neuromag (Magnesium threonate) → Supports sleep quality and parasympathetic activation
• PharmaGABA → wonderfully calming chewables that I find very helpful

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I’m really glad I listened to my inner voice. Many of us have one that speaks up at important moments — but when it’s met with doubt, things get complicated.

Here’s what I’ve learned: it’s not just about listening to that voice, it’s about giving it space. You don’t have to follow it or make it the only voice in the room. But you do have to let it surface — to acknowledge it, to say, “This is here, and it matters.”

Whatever you’re navigating right now, I hope you give that voice some room to breathe.

Pooja