Bindi Irwin fights to be healthy for her family following emergency surgery
Bindi Irwin is on the road to recovery and taking the time to heal after suffering a ruptured appendix earlier this month.
Irwin, the daughter of late animal advocate Steve Irwin, was forced to miss an annual gala in honor of her father due to emergency surgery.
While the surgery was initially intended to address her appendix, doctors discovered a myriad of issues Irwin, 26, needed medical attention for, including 14 additional lesions related to her endometriosis diagnosis.
"Healing. Thank you for your incredible words of support and kindness," Bindi shared on social media. "The reason I share my health journey is because more girls and women desperately need answers to their undiagnosed pain.
"I've battled with endometriosis for more than 12 years. This disease is crippling and can make you feel incredibly isolated. We need to raise awareness and change the narrative for women's health. I see you, your pain is real, and you deserve answers and genuine health care."
Her husband, Chandler Powell, praised Bindi on social media, and wrote, "I've said it many times already, but as time goes on I'm even more convinced that you are the strongest person I know."
He added, "Going through everything you have to get on top of your health as well as help others along the way is incredible. You are a warrior in every sense of the word. Grace and I are so grateful for you and everything you do."
She responded, "My hope is to be healthy for our family. I love you so much."
Irwin detailed some of her medical journey on social media shortly after she was hospitalized.
"After having a grumbly appendix, I finally had to seek help the day of our Steve Irwin Gala in Las Vegas," she wrote earlier this month. "I consulted with Dr. Seckin, and we agreed that if I flew to New York, he could also check for endometriosis again.
"Surgery was a success. My appendix was removed, along with another 14 lesions (after having 37 endometriosis lesions and a cyst removed two years ago). I also had a repair to a large hernia I acquired through childbirth four years ago. Thankfully, I am on the road to recovery."
This is not the first health scare Bindi has encountered. In 2023, the mom of one revealed an endometriosis diagnosis that also required surgery.
"My life now looks completely different than it did before I had my surgery," Irwin told Fox News Digital at the time. "Over the 10 years that I was really battling with endo[metriosis] without knowing it, I would get progressively worse every week and in the end, before my surgery, I was barely able to get out of bed."
Irwin, who described the pain she experienced as a "stabbing feeling" and "really scary," revealed in March that she endured the painful condition for 10 years and struggled for a proper diagnosis.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
40 minutes ago
- Yahoo
For Trans and Gender-Diverse People, Community Is a Verb (Exclusive)
It's a curious thing to come into yourself. Like a bodily homecoming – some truth you'd long forgotten – now recognized in the shimmer of a shop window, where you catch your reflection and feel a kick of excitement between your shoulder blades at the you who looks back, smiling. It's a curious thing to come into yourself, like a bodily homecoming – a returning that brings you so much joy – and to find that the more aligned and yourself you feel, the more hostile the world beyond your body becomes. There are myriad explanations for why people feel affronted by gender variance, and why trans and gender diverse communities – especially those who are racialized, and especially those who express femininity – are once again facing hatred that at best, tires and erodes the soul, and at worst, steals life through acts of depraved violence. But in a world that continues to insist on the expulsion of trans and gender diverse people not only from public life, but also from the public imagination, I am choosing to place my emphasis on the ways in which trans and gender diverse people insist on living. ! Two years ago, around a table at a dinner party in a friend's sharehouse, over full-bodied wine and empty plates still glistening with rich bolognese sauce, a friend of mine clinked their glass. We were packed like sardines into a living room that'd been rearranged to make way for foldout plastic tables that could accommodate of light from the candlesticks wedged into the necks of old wine bottles glinted in eyes and across cheeks. This friend who had quietened the group asked, when do you feel most free? Despite resonating in part with those who described feeling most free when they're on their own, devoid of attachment, I couldn't help but think of a party I'd recently been to during Pride where, for the first time, I'd taped my chest flat and taken to the dance floor without a shirt on, feeling the sun hooked into my shoulder blades. I remember how I'd realized, in that moment, that I feel most free when I am in attachment. Most free when I am bound to others. Because my friends keep talking about community, and what I think they really mean by this is freedom to feel into and fall into the arms of those willing to hold us. Freedom, in this sense, is being able to express yourself and be witnessed, relished, celebrated, called out, called in, held. I am most free when I am in connection, when I'm on a dance floor, or at a protest – arms linked – or in a cuddle puddle in the late afternoon or in the last hours before daybreak. I am most free when I am beholden to others. I am most free when a friend who's been recently evicted is snoring on my fold-out couch. Or when another friend knocks on my door, having come do my laundry while I'm nursing my broken ankle. Or when we're all together, cleaning out a friend's house in the wake of a devastating flood, cutting waterlogged furniture with a chainsaw into pieces that'll be light enough for us to carry out to the street. I am most free when I am in connection, because I know my liberation is bound up with yours. Once, I wrote the sentence: I find myself wondering, more and more, if being trans will always feel this humiliating. When I find this quote in an old journal, I think back to when I was young, when I was lean muscle and all limb, before my body swelled and became something like a shadow, outside and beyond, stalking the edge of me. Back in that beautiful before, when I first learned how to hold my breath through the pearlescent belly of a wave, bursting out its broken shoulder, into the light of day. I think about the boys I hung out with, in the back alleys of my youth, bombing hills so steep my heart got stuck in my throat. How once I got death wobbles and jumped off my skateboard and landed so hard on my left leg, I threw my pelvis out of place. How I thrashed my body, over and over, injury after injury, so that by the time I was 15 I had a file at the emergency department three inches thick. How maybe I thrashed my body to stop it changing. Or, maybe I just liked moving. That's how I describe being trans. For me, it's all about movement. The walking and the running and the flying and the swimming. Because, even now, I don't know where I'm going, only that I am going. It therefore makes sense to me that the people who've taught me community is a verb, are, first and foremost, my trans siblings. Learning community as a thing that is made through ongoing actions – housing friends, meal drops, carpooling, helping with rent, sharing work, information and resources, showing up to protests and direct actions in support of and in solidarity with all marginalized communities – is something my friends have taught me through their own ongoing doings. I've come to understand 'queer,' too, as a doing, predicated on its ongoing actions. 'Queer,' to me, is visionary and imaginative ways of caring that ultimately carves out space for futures in which all of us live. I consider myself especially indebted to the First Nations friends in my life where I live in what we now call'Australia' who, in the face of ongoing colonisation and systemic oppression, embody community as a way of being, as a way of moving, as a way of resisting, and as a way of surviving. is now available in the Apple App Store! Download it now for the most binge-worthy celeb content, exclusive video clips, astrology updates and more! I think of that quote again – I find myself wondering, more and more, if being trans will always feel this humiliating – as institutions render us illegible and illegal, and JK Rowling celebrates her losses with a cigar. And I take, instead, to the water with my friends, and we let the water carry what we can't, because it's in the water, with them, all of us together, that I swim through humiliation and learn humility. My lover glides up against my chest and I feel an explosion of futures being felt as I feel myself. I dive under the surface and open my eyes, even though the saltwater stings, just to watch my friends. They kick and glide through pillars of yellow light, and I grin and shake, because it feels so good to be in the water, swimming with these people who know, like I do, that our survival has always depended on our movement. I start to laugh underwater, and my love for them escapes me in bright blue bursts. Against all of it. I love, I love, I love! Never miss a story — sign up for to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer , from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories. A Language of Limbs by Dylin Hardcastle comes out June 3 and is available for preorder now, wherever books are sold. Read the original article on People
Washington Post
2 hours ago
- Washington Post
‘Femtech' takes on the women's health-care marketplace
Could you use some discreet help with birth control from a $14.99-a-month period-tracking app? How about a hands-free, wearable breast pump, for $549; a $299 wristband to soothe hot flashes; or an extra-slim, temperature-neutral, LED-lit speculum to bring to gynecologists' appointments — part of a $125 kit including 'comfy socks'? These products and more are part of a fast-growing industry known as 'femtech' — high-tech solutions for women's health needs — whose many female founders say they're tackling age-old inequities.
Associated Press
2 hours ago
- Associated Press
Exercise boosts survival rates in colon cancer patients, study shows
A three-year exercise program improved survival in colon cancer patients and kept disease at bay, a first-of-its-kind international experiment showed. With the benefits rivaling some drugs, experts said cancer centers and insurance plans should consider making exercise coaching a new standard of care for colon cancer survivors. Until then, patients can increase their physical activity after treatment, knowing they are doing their part to prevent cancer from coming back. 'It's an extremely exciting study,' said Dr. Jeffrey Meyerhardt of Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, who wasn't involved in the research. It's the first randomized controlled trial to show how exercise can help cancer survivors, Meyerhardt said. Prior evidence was based on comparing active people with sedentary people, a type of study that can't prove cause and effect. The new study — conducted in Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom, Israel and the United States — compared people who were randomly selected for an exercise program with those who instead received an educational booklet. 'This is about as high a quality of evidence as you can get,' said Dr. Julie Gralow, chief medical officer of the American Society of Clinical Oncology. 'I love this study because it's something I've been promoting but with less strong evidence for a long time.' The findings were featured Sunday at ASCO's annual meeting in Chicago and published by the New England Journal of Medicine. Academic research groups in Canada, Australia and the U.K. funded the work. Researchers followed 889 patients with treatable colon cancer who had completed chemotherapy. Half were given information promoting fitness and nutrition. The others worked with a coach, meeting every two weeks for a year, then monthly for the next two years. Coaches helped participants find ways to increase their physical activity. Many people, including Terri Swain-Collins, chose to walk for about 45 minutes several times a week. 'This is something I could do for myself to make me feel better,' said Swain-Collins, 62, of Kingston, Ontario. Regular contact with a friendly coach kept her motivated and accountable, she said. 'I wouldn't want to go there and say, 'I didn't do anything,' so I was always doing stuff and making sure I got it done.' After eight years, the people in the structured exercise program not only became more active than those in the control group but also had 28% fewer cancers and 37% fewer deaths from any cause. There were more muscle strains and other similar problems in the exercise group. 'When we saw the results, we were just astounded,' said study co-author Dr. Christopher Booth, a cancer doctor at Kingston Health Sciences Centre in Kingston, Ontario. Exercise programs can be offered for several thousand dollars per patient, Booth said, 'a remarkably affordable intervention that will make people feel better, have fewer cancer recurrences and help them live longer.' Researchers collected blood from participants and will look for clues tying exercise to cancer prevention, whether through insulin processing or building up the immune system or something else. Swain-Collins' coaching program ended, but she is still exercising. She listens to music while she walks in the countryside near her home. That kind of behavior change can be achieved when people believe in the benefits, when they find ways to make it fun and when there's a social component, said paper co-author Kerry Courneya, who studies exercise and cancer at the University of Alberta. The new evidence will give cancer patients a reason to stay motivated. 'Now we can say definitively exercise causes improvements in survival,' Courneya said. ___ The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute's Science and Educational Media Group and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The AP is solely responsible for all content.
