ranjithashankar

Through writing this testimonial, I hope to reassure anyone walking a similar path that they are not alone. This is not only a glimpse into what life after surgery can feel like, but also an invitation to embrace your body’s “new language” with curiosity, humor, gratitude, and grace.

I was living a peaceful and balanced life with my family — my husband Dinakar, my mother Shailaja, who inspires me daily to stay fit through yoga and walking, and my son Bhuvan, who keeps me active and on my toes while thoughtfully supporting my work–life balance.

Life felt steady. Predictable. Good.

Everything was going well until 26th December 2025.

THE DIAGNOSIS

In 2024, it began as mild neck stiffness. Over the next 6–8 months, it gradually progressed into severe nighttime neck cramps that sometimes made breathing difficult. During my two-month stay in Spain in 2025, the nights became especially distressing.

After returning to India, I consulted an orthopedic specialist and was diagnosed with cervical spondylitis. I diligently followed the prescribed medications and treatment plan.

However, in December, something changed.

New symptoms appeared.

I began losing strength in my left hand and felt unsteady while walking. I experienced sharp, stabbing pain in my left chest whenever I coughed or sneezed, along with radiating pain down my left arm that caused numbness in my fingers. Deep within, I sensed that something was not right — this felt like more than just a bone-related issue.

Trusting my instincts, I consulted neurologist Dr. Vikram Huded and underwent an MRI as advised. My intuition proved correct. On 26th December, I was diagnosed with a Grade 2 ependymoma — a tumor located within the spinal cord, extending from cervical disc C6 to thoracic disc T2.

I sought multiple medical opinions, but the conclusion was unanimous: the tumor had to be surgically removed.

It felt unreal. It felt unbelievable. I had always been health-conscious — practicing yoga regularly, maintaining a disciplined diet, and taking Ayurvedic therapies for stress relief. I was not ready to accept surgery or the idea of an incision on my body. I truly believed that strong willpower, a cooperative body, yoga, and Ayurveda could heal anything.

But this was something beyond what those alone could address.

THE REMOVAL

When I met Dr. Thimmappa Hegde, a leading neurosurgeon in Bangalore, he was surprised to see me walking. In most cases with this condition, paralysis is common — yet there I was, standing on my own feet as if nothing were wrong.

Neither my family nor I were mentally prepared for surgery. Dr. Hegde and his team arranged counseling sessions for all of us to help us understand the possible post-surgical effects and the recovery journey. Gradually, I came to terms with the reality and chose to move forward with the operation.

On 29th January 2026, I underwent a six-hour surgery. Thankfully, it was successful — the doctors were able to remove the tumor completely.

When I regained consciousness, half the battle felt won. The first thing I did was try to move my hands and legs. When I realized I could, I smiled in relief, through the haze of anesthesia — I was not paralyzed.

But I had no idea how unfamiliar and overwhelming my sensory experiences would soon become.

DAY ONE

Relief quickly gave way to a new reality.

Although I felt relieved, I experienced constant stabbing pain radiating from my right shoulder down to my right hand. My legs felt numb, as if my nerves were stretched beyond the limits of my skin.

The sensation was strange — my abdomen and legs could not properly register touch. I could see the medical staff touching both my feet, yet I could not distinguish which foot was being touched. It felt almost as if it were someone else’s body, not mine.

DAY TWO

Even as pain gripped me and my legs felt distant and unfamiliar, I anchored myself to one unshakable truth: this was temporary — I would not feel this way forever.

At the same time, I was deeply grateful that the surgery had been successful and that the tumor had been removed. I felt proud — proud of my surgeon, proud of myself for taking the risk, and proud of my body for enduring such a major procedure.

I remember waking up, seeing my family standing beside my bed, and saying, “I did it.”

That simple sentence held victory, relief, strength — everything

DAY THREE

Once I could sit up independently, it was time to practice standing and walking with the help of my physical therapy team and a walker.When I moved, it felt as though my hips and legs were hovering above the ground. It was disorienting. I had to rely on my eyes to confirm that my legs were beneath me, assuring myself that I was standing upright and not floating.

But I could walk — like a toddler taking her very first steps. There was some pain in my shoulders and back, yet I knew this would be a long journey back to feeling “normal.” Still, the worst had not happened. And that filled me with overwhelming gratitude.

RECOVERY CONTINUES

It has now been a month since the surgery. The surgical site has healed beautifully. I can take a few steps without support and manage some daily activities independently — things I once relied on my caregiver for.

What I want to emphasize is this: It keeps getting better. Healing continues. Recovery unfolds day by day.

The day I was shifted to the ward, I realized something powerful — I am responsible for my recovery.

Every morning, I began telling myself:“I love myself. I am doing great. I feel normal. Nothing is wrong with me.”

With those words, my body softened.

It felt calm.

It felt hopeful — even glorious.

I found myself smiling again.

Deep within, I knew: I will recover.I will return to myself.

Sometimes resilience is not about pushing harder.

It is about surrendering wisely — and rising stronger.

There are battles you fight physically, but you win emotionally because of the people around you. I am forever grateful to my family, relatives, and friends whose prayers and blessings became my greatest source of strength during the toughest days.