Two months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know, it’s never really over.”
– Kelly Clarkson, “Sober”
🎧 Listen here
Monday Musings (Post-Op, Post-Uterus, Still Processing)
Today was hard.
I started writing this piece yesterday.
Today is Monday—Monday in every sense of the word.
My gynecologist appointment got postponed to tomorrow.
My colleagues were moaning (as usual) about the same old kak (Google it)—how the world is unfair, how they deserve more money, while many of them enjoy layers of privilege.
Meanwhile, I just kept praying and drowning myself in work.
Might as well work—because if I procrastinate, I’ll only suffer later.
I’m two months post-op.
Two months without fibroids.
Two months without a uterus.
And I still don’t know how to feel.
The surgery was necessary—urgent.
My doctor said he may never see a case like mine again in his lifetime.
He also said I’m healing faster than most women would in the same position.
That’s something to hold on to.
But still… I feel a strange sadness.
Maybe it’s the ghost of old symptoms.
Maybe it’s my body adjusting to its new self.
In May, I had a subtotal abdominal hysterectomy (what that means).
No period.
June? No period, only light symptoms.
Then July hits and—bam—a period.
WTF even.
My doctor said it’s hard to say if I’ll have another.
I still have my ovaries and cervix, but no uterus.
My body’s learning a new rhythm.
July also brought a breakdown (Thank you, post-surgery symptoms)
I cried when my boss hinted at a hidden agenda behind my performance evaluation but I advocated for myself and others through the tears.
But today?
MOFO—I was redeemed.
I found out I can’t be fired over my surgery or recovery time.
Thank you, South African labour law.
(Yes, I’m proudly South African.)
It’s been two months “sober.”
Not from alcohol—but from fibroids. From chronic pain.
From bleeding. From a uterus I no longer need.
And I still don’t know how to feel.
Directionless—but somehow full of direction.
Thank you, Jesus.
The surgery changed me in ways I can’t yet explain.
But one thing’s for sure: I’m deeply grateful.
Grateful that God carried me through it all.
(More on that in another post.)
And now, things that used to get under my skin?
They don’t.
Toxic work culture.
Colleagues throwing themselves at a man to impress him.
It’s comical.
It’s tragic.
People I once saw as brave, grounded, loyal—now playing into the same broken systems.
I look around and think:
“Oh. Okay.”
Being away for five weeks gave me perspective.
But coming back? It felt like walking into a circus with a front-row seat.
What happened to their values?
Their boundaries?
Their moral compass?
Out. The. Window.
WTF even.
It disgusts me. So, I float through the workplace now in a strange state of neutrality. That was my Monday.
How was yours?
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