Yesterday, I sat down with yet another doctor to talk about the story of this curve.
About how a titanium rod was screwed in to help straighten it when I was a freshman in high school. About how a decade later, I felt a frightening snap. About how after going from doctor to doctor to doctor — begging for months for someone to figure out why I was suddenly in so much pain — I woke up one morning and couldn’t move my knee. Then later felt a mysterious bump. Then, after being told by multiple doctors “not to worry about it”, eventually discovered that half of my scoliosis rod had somehow broken off…and (unheard of) come unscrewed…and (crazier yet) “migrated” down past dozens of critical organs, where it was lodged in my calf muscle.
Yyyyeah.
The radiologists clustered around the x-ray machine that day told me it was impossible. The nurses told me it was a miracle that I was alive. The orthopedic surgeon on call broke the news that — contrary to what we had originally been told — my spinal fusion a decade before had actually failed, leaving my spine unstable. But that unfortunately, it was too dangerous to re-operate and see if the remaining half of the rod was still screwed in tightly.
Ever since, this curve has haunted me. I try hard not to think much about it. But every time my back pops, or I twist an inch too far in yoga, or think about the next 5…15…50 years, I worry about that rod. And say my thousandth prayer that it stays snugly in place.
Ever since, this curve also just hurts. Most days, it’s a chronic ache that I’ve learned over the years to live with. Some days when I push too hard, it lights my entire back on fire and clears my calendar. Some days I forget all about it, although those days are fewer as I grow older.
Ever since, this curve is also my most visible reminder of the sheer preciousness of life. I used to look in the mirror and only see asymmetry and scars. But today, I see a strong body that still gives me the extravagant gift of being able to walk, travel, do my job, and go on living.
It’s the one precious body I’ve been given. And even though we’ve had a complicated relationship, I’m learning how to fear it less and love it more. And be so very grateful. ♡
God truly has blessed you and kept you. Stay strong. Your attitude is the only way to look at life. We must live it to the fullest. Each day is filled with blessings no matter the down times or those times when we just want to give in, we have to keep moving forward. Keeping you in my prayers.
A wonderful story. We should all be grateful for each day that is given to us in health. Your journey shows us how God’s blessings work in our lives every day. I thank you for sharing your journey with us — along with those yummy recipes! : ) May God continue to bless your and your husband.
Thank you for sharing your story. We never know what is going on in someone else’s life, no matter the outer glow that shines.
My daughter has lived with her post-scoliosis fusion/rod surgery pain for years, yet an ‘outsider’ would never know the struggles she overcomes everyday. It takes great strength, physically and emotionally, to live the life you have, not the life you are ‘dealt’. As a parent, her having the surgery is my one regret.
The grace, strength, attitude and perseverance you both share (as well as anyone dealing with chronic pain/illness) is a gift, for it reminds us life is precious and living positively outweighs the negative.
With gratitude
I can’t stop thinking about you and your situation and am so sorry – am praying for some good solutions for you that will come quickly. Also praying for peace for you!!! Thank you for letting us know. Hugs to you!
I’m sitting in the ER with my husband as I read this. He, too, has scoliosis and we are here because he’s having the worst headache of his life and it’s scaring us both. Back, neck, hip, and head pain are a part of his daily life as well and it’s been a frustrating road to find any answers of how to better control the pain. He’s 36, and we also both worry about the future. Thanks for your transparency and we pray for your health as well.
Beautiful words from a unbelievably strong person. From reading your blog over the years, I would never have thought for a minute that pain was part of your life. Thanks for being such a wonderful example of the beauty of life. I’m going to think of you the next time things are “rough”. If I can be half as positive as you, I will consider it a success.
I was just logging into your site to bake some of your oatmeal cookies…now I wish I could send you some!
Prayers for a solution. You are an amazing, gifted sweet lady and as I read some of the comments posted, your readers are too! Wishing you the best!
Ironically, I found your website as I’m laying flat on my back in excruciating pain trying to explain to my 15-year-old so how to roast a chicken breast! I couldn’t remember what temperature for the life of me. ( pain med brain! Lol) My web search led me straight to you. I think it was a God thing to read your story while feeling sad/angry about all I can’t do some days. I’m sorry for all your going and have gone through, and thank you for sharing it. I look forward to digging deeper into your site.
That sounds terrifying and it sucks you have to go through it. Now there will be people all over the world praying that rod stays snugly in place.
I’ve never heard of anyone else that had titanium rods placed in their back besides myself. I had difficulty in walking due to degenetarive discs in my back. I met witja few doctors in Rhode Island and none would be able to perform this surgery. About 9 years ago a Dr David Meutuz in NYC performed the surgery. It was great, I was able to stand for long periods and walk. About 5 years ago I fell down the stairs, broke a few ribs and survived the fall. However during a snow storm I was using my snowblower to clear snow, bend over SLIGHTLY to clean the machine and heard a pop! I swear I didn’t know what it was (no pain). The next day the pain kicked in. Dr Matuz replaced both broken rods!