“Scoliosis, my experience of a lifetime” by Sama Arefi
My ribs always stuck out — I was on the skinnier side, after all. I never questioned it … until the day I felt my left arm graze against a protruding bone. I took a closer look, and noticed a visible bump on my left side that appeared to be my rib sticking out. On the other side, it seemed that my right rib was tucking inwards. I was freaked out. However, my first thought wasn’t to go to a doctor, but rather it was to consult Google. I was directed to an overview that told me I was experiencing something called rib flare, and that it could be fixed easily through exercises. Looking back on that now, Google couldn’t be more wrong.
At the time, I was comforted by this diagnosis. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was this nagging fear that sprung up every now and then — when I changed my clothes for PE and saw that bump, when my arms brushed against my sides on a jog, when I took a shower and saw myself in the reflection. For the next few months, I carried on like this. Once or twice I tried to bring it up with my parents so I could see a doctor, but they pushed my concerns away. It wasn’t until the summer before seventh grade, when I had to get a mandatory vaccine, did I see a doctor. It was a regular examination with a few shots at the end. I thought nothing would be wrong, and she would brush away the issue of my ribs. Unfortunately for me, this was not the case. She glanced at my uneven ribs and then to my back. I was asked to bend down as though I was reaching for something. Her hand traced my back before commenting that my spine had an issue — possibly scoliosis. That word sizzled in my mind. Scoliosis, what even was that?
Once I got home, I looked up this unfamiliar word, scoliosis — a curvature of the spine. As I scrolled through the images of crooked spines and startling anatomy, I found it hard to believe that I could have this condition. Sure, my ribs were messed up, but I never noticed anything else, and I hardly had any back pain. I felt certain that this wouldn’t turn into a big deal.
Soon, school started and I focused completely on my work. When my appointment rolled around, I was more annoyed than anything. My dad had picked me up early from school, and after a long wait, we entered the doctor’s office. I had to change into these silly shorts and a paper shirt for my X-ray. I was giggling as I waddled and turned in those shorts. After taking my X-ray and waiting for what felt like forever, the spine specialist entered the room. She confirmed that I had scoliosis, and began explaining the treatments for the different levels of severity.
She confirmed that I had scoliosis, and started talking about the treatments. She went through them depending on the severity: physical therapy for mild, a brace for moderate, and worse of all, surgery for severe. As she spoke, my anxiety threatened to bring me to tears, but I held it in. The spine specialist paused to open a photo of my X-ray on her computer. I was horrified to see that my spine was shaped like an S. She then revealed I would need surgery to correct my severe scoliosis. At that point, I couldn’t hold my tears any longer. I started sobbing while she explained the next steps and handed me a booklet about scoliosis.
At the time, I was so angry and confused. I spent late nights crying in fear. I spent my mornings scrutinizing every imperfection on my body. Not so long after that appointment, I had to get an MRI. I entered this skinny tube with nothing but a gown on. It felt like I was being strangled in there, and the darkness was so overwhelming. I had to meet my spine surgeon while I was still wishing for a miracle. Everyone was lying to me, telling me it would be okay. My surgery was scheduled on November 27, 2023. The weeks until then poster by in a blur of preparation and worry.
On the day of, I had accepted my faith. There was nothing else I could do to fix my spine. I had no more tears left to cry, so I felt empty inside. On the drive to the hospital, there was an eerie silence in my head. We checked in early, both of my parents shivering. That early morning felt cold. I met everyone who would be helping me. My parents finally let their tears go as I was rolled away. The anesthesiologist made small talk while administering the gas. It smelled like nail polish. My ears started to buzz, and the world faded away. I awoke with my spine fixed, and many months of recovery to come. Those were some of the hardest days, but they taught me so much. I learned how much my parents love me through the hours my mother sat beside me, and the loving arms of my father. I had to push against my pain and discomfort to sit upright and relearn how to get up again. I am grateful for this experience because even though it was terrifying, I would never change it.