On a Thursday afternoon, while reviewing my work notes and looking at the plan for the week ahead, I received a call from a private number. I paused and stared at the screen for a few seconds – my heart sank, because I knew what this call was going to be about. I quickly answered.

“Hello, can I speak to Monique please? This is Natalie from the Women’s Health Clinic.”

“Hello, speaking” I replied. Trying my best to keep an upbeat tone.

“Before we continue, can you please confirm your date of birth and full address please?”

I provided my date of birth and address.

“And confirm your GP”

I provided my GP’s details.

“Ok lovely, we received the haemoglobin level results back from the test today and it’s quite low. It’s at 60..”

I knew it.

I had mixed emotions while listening to her say those words. Deep down, I already knew – the symptoms I’d been feeling all week were warning signs. But hearing it confirmed was still disappointing. I knew I had dropped the ball.

Natalie continued,

“We’ve arranged for you to come into hospital tomorrow at 10am to see the doctor, who will discuss your options for either a blood transfusion or an iron infusion. There’s a chance you could be admitted into hospital.”

Damn, admitted.

“Okay, thank you Natalie. I had a feeling something wasn’t right. I’ll need to speak to work and move some things around but I’ll be there tomorrow”. I replied

“Bless you. Please bring your documentation with you, and the team tomorrow will take care of you. Thank you and take care. Bye ”

“Okay, thank you Natalie. Bye”

The call ended.

A huge blanket of disappointment covered me in that moment.

Great. I’m back here again.

Needing a transfusion.

I was doing so well just a few months ago – my levels were normal. I was consistent, and I felt accomplished.

But honestly, I wasn’t completely shocked. I knew I’d fallen off. I hadn’t been staying on top of my juicing, and even when my husband made a big batch filled with beetroot and all the iron-rich nutrients my body needed, I was reluctant to drink them. I hadn’t eaten steak for weeks either. There was no one to blame but myself.

How can I say I want to heal but not stay consistent with my health in order to heal? Make it make sense.

My body had been screaming for attention- yet I was ignoring it. I kept pushing through the dizziness, the breathlessness, the fatigue, and even the restless nights. It was like I’d become exhausted from being exhausted, if that makes any sense at all.

After sitting for a few minutes absorbing the information, I called work to let them know I couldn’t come in and then spoke with my family. I had to accept it for what it was.

My husband said something that brought me right back to reality:

“Document this experience. Show that you’re human, and what happens when you don’t stay on top of things”

He really held the mirror up to my face that day- lovingly but honestly- holding me accountable while reassuring me everything would be okay.

What led to this was an earlier clinic appointment I’d attended after being referred by a private doctor who specialises in helping women with menstrual conditions preserve their uterus. As usual, my MRI results hadn’t been sent over, so they had no record of my medical history. I found myself filling in the gaps with all the documents I’ve collected over the years. Luckily, I had my referral letter with me, listing my previous MRI findings, which helped them understand my situation.

I won’t go into detail yet about the outcome of that appointment – though it was positive and encouraging for my future plans – but during it, I mentioned to Natalie that I’d been feeling light-headed and breathless. She immediately asked for a blood test.

After that, I went home and jumped straight back into work emails and meetings for the rest of the day.

The next morning, I woke up, prayed and meditated – asking God to give me strength to get through the day and the will to stay on top of my health. Because He knows, and I know, what I want for my future – and I can’t get there if I don’t look after myself.

At the hospital, my husband stayed with me as they prepared me for a blood transfusion. I was admitted to a ward and was led to my bed. I was relieved to have my own room – large, clean, peaceful. The nurses were warm, attentive, and kind, which helped to calm my nerves.

This wasn’t my first transfusion, and my previous experiences in London hospitals hadn’t always been pleasant. So I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. But this time, it was different. The care and ease of the team really surprised me.

I was given two bags of blood – each lasting about three hours – and wasn’t discharged until 10pm. It was a long day.

During that time, I sat in stillness.

Sometimes life gets so busy that we forget to pause. While receiving the transfusion, I was reminded how vital is it to put my health first. If I don’t pour into myself, I can’t pour into my loved ones or into the dreams and visions I have for my life.

The reality is, I’m human. I’ll show you my highs and lows throughout this journey – and I’ll take accountability for where I fall short, because healing isn’t about perfection. It’s about awareness, grace, and getting back up again.

I learned so much from this experience, and it has reignited a fire within me. The lesson hit hard: consistency with love and self-care matters. Healing isn’t only about what you see on the outside – it’s about nurturing what’s happening inside your body.

So now, I’m back on my juicing. I’m back to having my vitamins and being more mindful with what I eat. I really don’t want to go through another blood transfusion anytime soon. I’m thankful that I spoke up during that appointment- that I mentioned feeling light-headed- because who knows what might have happened if I hadn’t.

Maybe I would’ve eventually gone back to my healthy habits on my own, but this transfusion gave me a push and the top-up I needed. I’m grateful for it, but it’s not how I want to live my life.

Be your own advocate. Ask the questions. Request the tests. Don’t ignore the symptoms.

“Managing fibroids is not a straight line- it’s a journey of ups and downs”

I keep reminding myself: this was just a setback, not the end of my journey. My journey is still being written. My dreams and visions are still alive. I just need to get back on track – one consistent step at a time.

Have you ever had to pause and reset on your healing journey? – you never know who you might encourage by sharing your story.

I hope my journey reminds you that we’re all human. We make mistakes, we lose focus, we get distracted- but we don’t give up.

Happy healing

Mon x