Spinal Talk

I was laying in bed last night with my back aching and I thought about my surgery. Most of those who read this, you know that I had surgery almost 15 years ago. WOW! I hadn't realized that it is almost 15 years until just now. Any way...I had to have surgery to correct Scoliosis (curve in the spine) that had grown to be of great concern for both my family and my doctors. I thought that I would give you a little insight into what I experienced and share my story for those who haven't heard it before.

I was diagnosed with Scoliosis at the age of about 8. The doctors knew to keep an eye on this condition as it can worsen as a child goes through growth in puberty. This was the case for me. My curve continued to worsen over the next 5 years. By the time my family physician referred me to an orthopedic surgeon my curve was 42 degrees. For curves below 45 degrees most doctors will try bracing a patient first in hopes to stop the curve from worsening.
I was fitted for a brace the spring of 1991, the end of my 7th grade year. I wore a brace similar to this one. I hated wearing it. It was extremely uncomfortable. It was also hot and sticky. I had to wear it 22 hours a day. I cried when my mom had to adjust the velcro straps in the back that tightened the brace around me. The one thing I was grateful for was that by the time I actually had to start wearing the brace I was finished with school for the summer. I was happy to not have to sit in the awful school chairs in that terrible brace.

By mid-July the local doctor who was handling my Scoliosis noticed that the change in my back was not getting better but worse. In the few short months I had been in the brace my curve had increased to 54 degrees. This is a picture of a curve at a 50 degree curve so mine was slightly more than this. He indicated that I was going through a growing spell and it was causing the curve to worsen. He recommend we see a surgeon in Cleveland to discuss surgery to correct and stop the curvature. Of course I was scared out of my mind. I hadn't had as much as a pimple let alone a broken bone or any other major problem, that is until that moment.

I remember sitting in the office of the wonderful doctor who later corrected my back and crying so uncontrollably. Dr. George Thompson reached over gave me a box of Kleenex and told me to wipe my tears because crying wasn't going to change the fact that I had to have surgery. I thought at the time he was being insensitive, but I later realized how right he was. He hugged me and told me that together we would get through this and that I would be much better off in the end. The surgery was going was set for Oct. 1, 1991. The timing was important because my curve at grown even worse and was up to 62 degrees.

Less than 3 months later I was bound for Rainbow's Babies and Children's Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio. The month before I had to visit the Red Cross in Warren, Ohio to donate my own blood. This was done so that any blood lose could be replenished by my own. I donated 4 pints of my own blood in a 2 month time period. I was told that under normal circumstances a healthy person is only to give one pint and should wait 30-60 days before donating again. I didn't have any other option, so ever couple of weeks I went to give my blood.

The day of surgery was scary and I didn't sleep the night before. My sister Carol was home from Indiana so she was with us as my mom and I and a family friend, Sherri Garver, all made the trip to Cleveland at 4:30 in the morning. Lots of pre-op (as they call it) was done. We had to have blood work done, wrist bands made, and x-rays, lots of x-rays. Finally I was to change and it would be time to wheel me in to surgery. I was given an IV with what they called my "special juice" that would relax me. Let me tell you, I've never been "high" before, but whatever it was they gave me that day made me feel pretty darn good! I was so chatty, yes even more than normal. I didn't even care that they were taking me away. Even though I was floating on the clouds, I could still see the fear in my parents eyes as I said good-bye. It breaks my heart to this day to see it in my mind. Thank God for those meds otherwise I would have been a wreck!

In the operating room I remember lots of people coming in and out and the room was so very cold. I remember the one doctor informing me that they were going to put me to sleep and asked me to could backwards from 10. I began and don't remember a thing after 8. During the surgery two rods are placed along my vertebra bracing the spine. Bone was taking from my hip to graft to the vertebra in order to secure the rods. Screws and springs were also used to hold the rods in place. (This is an x-ray from iScoliosis that is similar to what my back looks like.) Six hours later and a terribly long day for my family, I came out of surgery. I had someone tell me that waking from surgery feels as though you were only asleep a few minutes and they were right. I felt as though I was in a black tunnel seeing a light above me and waking up. I awoke in the operating room just as they were removing the breathing tube. I didn't feel anything. It was like slow motion, watching something being done to you as if it were a movie you are watching. I remember going down the hall and being on my back watching the fluorescent lights above me and hearing the sound of the metal wheels; clang, clang, clanging as I was wheeled to recovery. I asked the nurse if it was normal to feel sick and she reassured me that it was but that my being so alert was not. From that point on I worked hard at being ahead in my recovery.

For the first couple of days I was in and out of being awake. I was pretty drugged for the pain. Though I didn't feel too much, I was asked to rate my pain every day from 1-10, 10 being the worst. I never went above 5. I believe that it was only by the grace of God that I was in as little pain as I was through out the whole process. I believe it was around the second day after surgery that my mom noticed that I was breathing heavily and looked pail. The nurse found that I had a fever and they ran tests to make sure there was no infection. The test results showed no infection but my white blood cell count was low. In order to fight any infection or so forth, my white cell count needed to get up. I had to receive a blood transfusion and with in hours was doing much better. The next day I was up and walking in my room. Within a few days I was eating, showering, and walking the halls. One full week to the day of surgery, I was released from the hospital.

The next month I spent at home with a teacher coming a few times a week to tutor me. My grades actually jumped during this time and I was ahead in my school work. I had friends that came to visit often and even had the whole church youth group pile into my living room room for youth group one night. By December I was back in school. I carried a pillow to rest against my back for awhile but otherwise was feeling normal. Within a year I was playing volleyball at church (not that I was very good). I also played softball and went bowling with my dad and friends.

So that is the whole story. I am living a normal life and glad to have had the doctors work for me the way that they did. Dr. Thompson informed my mom that if we had waited just 6 more months that the curve would begun to press into my spinal cord and if let go I could have been paralyzed. Living with a few aches every now and then is nothing compared to what could have been. I may have never had my son or rode a roller coaster or even walked again had my parents and the doctors not done for me what they did.

So that's my story. Quite lengthy, I apologize. So if you ever hear someone has had or is going to have a spinal fusion you can say "Hey, I know about that."