In my shoes: Manopriya
In my shoes: Manopriya
In my shoes: Manopriya
In my shoes: Manopriya
In my shoes: Manopriya
Four years before she came to us as a patient, an epidural injection administered during her pregnancy damaged a nerve. When she tried to get out of the hospital bed and walk, she realised that she lost the function of her left leg.
She was told that the loss was permanent and she was lucky that she didn’t lose both her legs (yes, there are women who did). Mano refused to accept what the “experts” had to tell her. When they brought a wheelchair to cart her out of the hospital, she refused to sit on it and dragged herself out of the hospital, with her husband and her father supporting her on either side.
Since then, she and her family turned every stone that there was. Like I did back in 2008, eight years later, she would rather be an optimistic fool than accept it as final. Over the next four years, she managed to recover part of the lost functions. Though, a strong limp and continuous pain both have become a standard part of her life.
In the meanwhile, pain killers, lack of physical activity and incessant stress made her accumulate plenty of excess body weight. That was when she received a warning from her neurologist: Lose weight or risk losing the recovery.
Mano came to ask for weight loss. I took her first call. I listened to what life did to a bright, young woman. I wanted to scream that there was hope, even if it were a faint one. Some people are so optimistic, they can never tell when their optimism turns into delusion. I am one of them and Mano is another; back then, I didn't know that about Mano. I tried to keep quiet and listen to her. At one point I blurted out: “What do you want Mano?”
As horrible as it may sound, we have many credible and safe science sitting on the shelves about how people like Mano can recover, at least partly. I have no idea why all that science hasn’t found its way to the mainstream. Nevermind these are safe solutions with minimal or no adverse side effects.
So, Mano started on her weight loss journey with Amura, with the possibility of rehabilitation as a free added bonus.
A month into the program, Mano became one of the volunteers who took up building many healthy recipes that we use even today. Vandana, Janani, Ashta and Nivas were also part of this gang. Amura was lucky in that they were all extraordinary people. Janani and Mano eventually became a part of Team-Amura. Vandana and Nivas helped us go through phases of explosive growth. Ashta was one of the most brilliant 24 year olds I ever spoke to.
But we are digressing.
Two months after she started her Amura program, Mano called me on the phone one day. It was an unscheduled call. I picked up the call a little worried. Like how my parents were worried when they received a middle-of-the-night telegram (if you are too young, ask your parents).
On the other end of the phone, Mano was sobbing. In between all the sobbing, she managed to tell me that her left toes were burning. “I can’t bear it”.
I was muttering to myself “hey, why is that my fault”. I don’t remember what I told her. Whatever it was, I am sure I missed the plot. So she repeated “no, you don’t understand; my left toes are burning”
I was “so what”, but as politely as I could.
She continued sobbing and said “I haven’t had any sensation in my left toes till yesterday. I could feel them today”.
I stopped!
“It hurts like hell, but I am so happy”. I could hear her laughing between her sobs.
Eventually, Mano went on to recover lost sensations on many other spots on her left leg. She must put up with the pain everyday. Sometimes it becomes unbearable.
Between all of that, she managed to run 10km multiple times, rose to become one of the most important people in our health coaching team, became a great friend to every one of us, helped hundreds of people heal themselves, be a great mom and play the perfect fauji wife (her husband is one of the most commanding young officers in the Indian army).
Amura changed her story in more ways than one. For the last two years, she has been paying it forward. Wherever she goes, she carries a cloud of love and a tinge of drama. Not to mention a large dollop of delusional optimism. But then, hey, she earned it, didn’t she.
Four years before she came to us as a patient, an epidural injection administered during her pregnancy damaged a nerve. When she tried to get out of the hospital bed and walk, she realised that she lost the function of her left leg.
She was told that the loss was permanent and she was lucky that she didn’t lose both her legs (yes, there are women who did). Mano refused to accept what the “experts” had to tell her. When they brought a wheelchair to cart her out of the hospital, she refused to sit on it and dragged herself out of the hospital, with her husband and her father supporting her on either side.
Since then, she and her family turned every stone that there was. Like I did back in 2008, eight years later, she would rather be an optimistic fool than accept it as final. Over the next four years, she managed to recover part of the lost functions. Though, a strong limp and continuous pain both have become a standard part of her life.
In the meanwhile, pain killers, lack of physical activity and incessant stress made her accumulate plenty of excess body weight. That was when she received a warning from her neurologist: Lose weight or risk losing the recovery.
Mano came to ask for weight loss. I took her first call. I listened to what life did to a bright, young woman. I wanted to scream that there was hope, even if it were a faint one. Some people are so optimistic, they can never tell when their optimism turns into delusion. I am one of them and Mano is another; back then, I didn't know that about Mano. I tried to keep quiet and listen to her. At one point I blurted out: “What do you want Mano?”
As horrible as it may sound, we have many credible and safe science sitting on the shelves about how people like Mano can recover, at least partly. I have no idea why all that science hasn’t found its way to the mainstream. Nevermind these are safe solutions with minimal or no adverse side effects.
So, Mano started on her weight loss journey with Amura, with the possibility of rehabilitation as a free added bonus.
A month into the program, Mano became one of the volunteers who took up building many healthy recipes that we use even today. Vandana, Janani, Ashta and Nivas were also part of this gang. Amura was lucky in that they were all extraordinary people. Janani and Mano eventually became a part of Team-Amura. Vandana and Nivas helped us go through phases of explosive growth. Ashta was one of the most brilliant 24 year olds I ever spoke to.
But we are digressing.
Two months after she started her Amura program, Mano called me on the phone one day. It was an unscheduled call. I picked up the call a little worried. Like how my parents were worried when they received a middle-of-the-night telegram (if you are too young, ask your parents).
On the other end of the phone, Mano was sobbing. In between all the sobbing, she managed to tell me that her left toes were burning. “I can’t bear it”.
I was muttering to myself “hey, why is that my fault”. I don’t remember what I told her. Whatever it was, I am sure I missed the plot. So she repeated “no, you don’t understand; my left toes are burning”
I was “so what”, but as politely as I could.
She continued sobbing and said “I haven’t had any sensation in my left toes till yesterday. I could feel them today”.
I stopped!
“It hurts like hell, but I am so happy”. I could hear her laughing between her sobs.
Eventually, Mano went on to recover lost sensations on many other spots on her left leg. She must put up with the pain everyday. Sometimes it becomes unbearable.
Between all of that, she managed to run 10km multiple times, rose to become one of the most important people in our health coaching team, became a great friend to every one of us, helped hundreds of people heal themselves, be a great mom and play the perfect fauji wife (her husband is one of the most commanding young officers in the Indian army).
Amura changed her story in more ways than one. For the last two years, she has been paying it forward. Wherever she goes, she carries a cloud of love and a tinge of drama. Not to mention a large dollop of delusional optimism. But then, hey, she earned it, didn’t she.
Four years before she came to us as a patient, an epidural injection administered during her pregnancy damaged a nerve. When she tried to get out of the hospital bed and walk, she realised that she lost the function of her left leg.
She was told that the loss was permanent and she was lucky that she didn’t lose both her legs (yes, there are women who did). Mano refused to accept what the “experts” had to tell her. When they brought a wheelchair to cart her out of the hospital, she refused to sit on it and dragged herself out of the hospital, with her husband and her father supporting her on either side.
Since then, she and her family turned every stone that there was. Like I did back in 2008, eight years later, she would rather be an optimistic fool than accept it as final. Over the next four years, she managed to recover part of the lost functions. Though, a strong limp and continuous pain both have become a standard part of her life.
In the meanwhile, pain killers, lack of physical activity and incessant stress made her accumulate plenty of excess body weight. That was when she received a warning from her neurologist: Lose weight or risk losing the recovery.
Mano came to ask for weight loss. I took her first call. I listened to what life did to a bright, young woman. I wanted to scream that there was hope, even if it were a faint one. Some people are so optimistic, they can never tell when their optimism turns into delusion. I am one of them and Mano is another; back then, I didn't know that about Mano. I tried to keep quiet and listen to her. At one point I blurted out: “What do you want Mano?”
As horrible as it may sound, we have many credible and safe science sitting on the shelves about how people like Mano can recover, at least partly. I have no idea why all that science hasn’t found its way to the mainstream. Nevermind these are safe solutions with minimal or no adverse side effects.
So, Mano started on her weight loss journey with Amura, with the possibility of rehabilitation as a free added bonus.
A month into the program, Mano became one of the volunteers who took up building many healthy recipes that we use even today. Vandana, Janani, Ashta and Nivas were also part of this gang. Amura was lucky in that they were all extraordinary people. Janani and Mano eventually became a part of Team-Amura. Vandana and Nivas helped us go through phases of explosive growth. Ashta was one of the most brilliant 24 year olds I ever spoke to.
But we are digressing.
Two months after she started her Amura program, Mano called me on the phone one day. It was an unscheduled call. I picked up the call a little worried. Like how my parents were worried when they received a middle-of-the-night telegram (if you are too young, ask your parents).
On the other end of the phone, Mano was sobbing. In between all the sobbing, she managed to tell me that her left toes were burning. “I can’t bear it”.
I was muttering to myself “hey, why is that my fault”. I don’t remember what I told her. Whatever it was, I am sure I missed the plot. So she repeated “no, you don’t understand; my left toes are burning”
I was “so what”, but as politely as I could.
She continued sobbing and said “I haven’t had any sensation in my left toes till yesterday. I could feel them today”.
I stopped!
“It hurts like hell, but I am so happy”. I could hear her laughing between her sobs.
Eventually, Mano went on to recover lost sensations on many other spots on her left leg. She must put up with the pain everyday. Sometimes it becomes unbearable.
Between all of that, she managed to run 10km multiple times, rose to become one of the most important people in our health coaching team, became a great friend to every one of us, helped hundreds of people heal themselves, be a great mom and play the perfect fauji wife (her husband is one of the most commanding young officers in the Indian army).
Amura changed her story in more ways than one. For the last two years, she has been paying it forward. Wherever she goes, she carries a cloud of love and a tinge of drama. Not to mention a large dollop of delusional optimism. But then, hey, she earned it, didn’t she.