LAVH: Walking Alongside Women Through Healing
By Dr. Anil Khetarpal, (MBBS, MS, FAIS, FICS, FACS, FIMSA, FIAGES)
I’ve learned that in women’s healthcare, listening is often more important than speaking. Every woman who walks into my office carries not just physical symptoms, but months or years of dismissed concerns, delayed diagnoses, and the quiet exhaustion that comes from suffering in silence.
Understanding the Emotional Landscape When I sit with a patient considering hysterectomy, I see beyond the medical indication. I see a woman grieving what this surgery might represent—the end of fertility, changes to her sense of femininity, or fear of the unknown. These feelings are valid and deserve space in our conversation.
Sunita, a 44-year-old school teacher, once told me, “I know this surgery will help, but I feel like I’m saying goodbye to part of myself.” We spent time exploring these feelings because healing happens not just in the operating room, but in the moments when fears are acknowledged and addressed.
Creating Safe Spaces At our practice, we’ve redesigned everything around women’s comfort. Private consultation rooms where partners can join conversations, educational materials that address emotional concerns alongside medical facts, and dedicated time for questions—no matter how small they might seem.
I remember Kavita, who asked me seventeen different questions about her upcoming LAVH. Some colleagues might have felt rushed, but each question revealed another layer of her anxiety. By our third meeting, she said, “Doctor, I finally feel ready. You helped me understand that this isn’t happening to me—it’s something I’m choosing for myself.”
The Healing Circle Surgery is just one part of a larger journey. Our team includes counselors who specialize in women’s health transitions, support groups where women share experiences, and follow-up care that acknowledges both physical and emotional recovery milestones.
Beyond the Procedure Three months post-surgery, women often tell me they wish they’d done it sooner. But I understand why they waited. In a culture that often dismisses women’s pain, choosing major surgery requires courage. My role is to honor that courage and ensure no woman walks this path alone.
When I see a patient fully participating in her sister’s wedding without worrying about sudden bleeding, or traveling to her daughter’s college without fear of unpredictable symptoms, I’m reminded why this work matters. We’re not just performing surgeries—we’re helping women reclaim their lives.
