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. ♡
Wow! What a story. Prayers for you and wishing you well.
Thank you for sharing your brave story. When I saw the pic, I thought it was about Princess Eugenie’s Wedding gown. And thank you for the reminder of the preciousness of life.
O sweatheart. Lots of love, joy and strength for you.
My scoliosis has been the thing that has always reminded me to take care of myself, stay strong, & pace myself. Now in my 60’s I think I’m actually in better shape than many friends who have not needed to be so careful. Gifts come in very strange & crooked ways sometimes!
Amazing story. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. The awesome part is that you’re optimistic even with the pain you know is ahead. Very Inspiring. Thanks for sharing.
So is the other part still in your CALF??
That is what I am wondering!! Is your leg ok??
So sorry for your pain but admire your approach to life. Princess Eugenia got married last Friday at Windsor Castle. Her wedding dress had an open back to reveal her scar from her socolious surgery when she was 12. She wanted to bring awareness to this condition. Brave girl
This is so inspiring. You have every reason to feel self-pity and succumb to the pain that plagues you and yet you’ve given and continue to give the world such an incredible gift through your blog and your recipes! Your blog is my GO-TO for fabulous recipes and you’ve honestly made me a better cook by helping me build confidence in my abilities. Thank you so much for all that you do!
I have scoliosis too, and while our situations are different, I know how exhausting that kind of back pain can be. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through it.
This is beautiful. Sending you lots of love, girl.