Eight years ago I was diagnosed with excessive lumbar lordosis thorasic kyphosis, a major deformity in the spine. This evolved to also having slight scoliosis, degenerative bones, consistent sciatica, and three partially herniated discs. I was twenty-one years old when I had to make the biggest decision of my life. The decision whether or not to have surgery was made after two years of weighing out the pros and cons with my surgeon and parents.
For three years I lived in constant pain not counting the six prior years. Visiting the emergency room had become a frequent occasion for me: as often as two or three times a month. When I wasn’t in the emergency room, I could be found sitting in a doctor’s office to receive a stronger pain medication and new orders for more rounds of physical therapy. After trying a genre of narcotics to ease the pain they became sugar pills to me as my body got used to them. I began getting cortisone shots in my back every two weeks for a month and a half. Every attempt of healing the pain only brought more pain physically and emotionally.
I had become a stranger to myself and alienated those around me. It was hard for me to deal with my pain and I didn’t want others to suffer because of my own state of mind. It was difficult for others to understand what I was going though because I was so young and well bad things aren’t supposed to happen to young people.
The way I was living life wasn’t a life at all, it had completely drained me of everything that I had. Before I would leave the house in the mornings to go to school I would take a cocktail of pain killers. The drive to school slowly became unbearable as my leg would go numb down to my toes that felt like they were being pricked with hundreds of tiny needles. During school I had a set schedule for taking cocktails to bring my pain level down slightly. Days when I could not get any relief of pain from medicine I was found sleeping in my car instead of attending my classes. Once I was home from school I would rest until it was time to go to work and of course take more pain meds.
I spent hours researching information on spinal fusions. Everything that I read had positive outcomes with patients that were happy with their decision to have surgery. The doctors gave a somewhat promising outcome if I were to have the surgery, though they hesitated to paint a complete recovery outcome for me. The doctors insisted that with every surgery there are always chances of complications. In fact, the first doctor that began treating me thought that surgery was a last effort, he wanted to try more pain pills and back exercises.
For three years I lived in constant pain not counting the six prior years. Visiting the emergency room had become a frequent occasion for me: as often as two or three times a month. When I wasn’t in the emergency room, I could be found sitting in a doctor’s office to receive a stronger pain medication and new orders for more rounds of physical therapy. After trying a genre of narcotics to ease the pain they became sugar pills to me as my body got used to them. I began getting cortisone shots in my back every two weeks for a month and a half. Every attempt of healing the pain only brought more pain physically and emotionally.
I had become a stranger to myself and alienated those around me. It was hard for me to deal with my pain and I didn’t want others to suffer because of my own state of mind. It was difficult for others to understand what I was going though because I was so young and well bad things aren’t supposed to happen to young people.
The way I was living life wasn’t a life at all, it had completely drained me of everything that I had. Before I would leave the house in the mornings to go to school I would take a cocktail of pain killers. The drive to school slowly became unbearable as my leg would go numb down to my toes that felt like they were being pricked with hundreds of tiny needles. During school I had a set schedule for taking cocktails to bring my pain level down slightly. Days when I could not get any relief of pain from medicine I was found sleeping in my car instead of attending my classes. Once I was home from school I would rest until it was time to go to work and of course take more pain meds.
I spent hours researching information on spinal fusions. Everything that I read had positive outcomes with patients that were happy with their decision to have surgery. The doctors gave a somewhat promising outcome if I were to have the surgery, though they hesitated to paint a complete recovery outcome for me. The doctors insisted that with every surgery there are always chances of complications. In fact, the first doctor that began treating me thought that surgery was a last effort, he wanted to try more pain pills and back exercises.
Gruesome stories of the surgery and doctors who were not convinced that I should have the surgery made me think that surgery was not the right course of action to take. On the other hand, just the very chances of being free of back and leg pain made me think I should have the surgery. After comparing the items listed as pros and the items listed as cons I decided I could live with minimal back pain if I had to, I just needed to try something, and I could no longer travel this non-ending road of pain.
Three months before my twenty-second birthday I arrived at the hospital ready to change my life. I changed into a hospital gown and robe. I placed my personal garments in the plastic bag provided by the hospital. The room was cold and dark. I sat alone for what seemed to be an eternity waiting for my parents to join me before my surgeon would brief us on the procedure. I woke up six hours later.
For four and a half months I wore a plastic back brace also known as a ‘turtle shell’ as I gained my strength back. It is now six months after my surgery and I couldn’t be happier with the decision I had made. Having surgery, I knew I had to face all of the consequences that came with it. I faced the danger and the unknown fears to gain my life back. Making a major decision such as having reconstructive back surgery has taught me that in order to be happy you sometimes have to give up a little to gain happiness into your life. I also learned that you can’t just count the number of pros and cons; you need to weigh them out. It was the best decision of my life.
Three months before my twenty-second birthday I arrived at the hospital ready to change my life. I changed into a hospital gown and robe. I placed my personal garments in the plastic bag provided by the hospital. The room was cold and dark. I sat alone for what seemed to be an eternity waiting for my parents to join me before my surgeon would brief us on the procedure. I woke up six hours later.
For four and a half months I wore a plastic back brace also known as a ‘turtle shell’ as I gained my strength back. It is now six months after my surgery and I couldn’t be happier with the decision I had made. Having surgery, I knew I had to face all of the consequences that came with it. I faced the danger and the unknown fears to gain my life back. Making a major decision such as having reconstructive back surgery has taught me that in order to be happy you sometimes have to give up a little to gain happiness into your life. I also learned that you can’t just count the number of pros and cons; you need to weigh them out. It was the best decision of my life.
*Five years post op I'm doing great! I have a huge scar (12") that is incredibly sensitive to touch as the nerves crossing from my navel around to the bottom of my shoulder blade were all cut. There are times that the rib where the doctors took my bone grafts from gets a sharp pain but I look as it as a reminder of how far I have come. As far as life in general goes I'm able to do almost anything everybody else can do. I am so blessed to have had such a wonderful surgeon and his assistant. I am even more blessed for my family who didn't kill me when I gave them plenty of reasons to want to but most of all for supporting me in getting my life back and getting the old me back!
