|Before and after x-rays|
Friday, March 28, 2014
The Summer I Turned 16
Sometimes It's hard to fully understand the depth of a situation until it's over. At least, it has been for me. That's one of the reasons it has taken me this long to write about a particular time in my life, the summer I spent recovering from surgery. The other reason is because I just don't like for people to feel sorry for me, or to think that my disability is what defines me. But now that I am away from that time in my life, I want explain it from the perspective a person who survived it. I don't want you to think that this blog is going to be about my disability or my "struggles", because it's not. I just feel ready to look back on that time and explain how I felt during it, so that's what I'm going to do. I don't want this to change your opinion of me, and it is my deep hope that you will not think or say "bless your heart" after reading this. My heart has been blessed more times than I can count, trust me. So now that I made that snarky disclaimer (yes I know snarky isn't an actual word but it's so fun), I will begin my story.
When I was 15, my doctor decided that it was time to do surgery to correct the scoliosis in my spine. Scoliosis is not my disability, it's a whole other thing, so this was not a surgery to "fix my disability", which I think some people may have thought at first. However, my scoliosis needed to be corrected so that it would not continue to get worse, which would most likely have eventually made me have to be in a wheelchair. I didn't want that to happen, so preparations for my "anterior and posterior spine fusion with instrumentation" began. Looking back on that time now, I realize that I didn't give myself enough credit for dealing with all of that. Sitting there listening to a surgeon describe what you are about to go through is not pleasant in any way, especially when you're only 15. I remember him saying that he would have to take one of my ribs out, (sorry for the graphic fact, I just have a weird fascination with that), and my innocent 15 year old self asked him if he was going to put it back. Now I could get even more gross and tell you what he did with it, but i'll spare you the details and just say that no, he did not put it back. How's that for shocking? Anyway, my point is that mentally preparing for the surgery was pretty brutal. It was really scary and confusing, although I tried to be as brave as possible. But it isn't until after the surgery that the really difficult part began