Hello
This is my journey through scoliosis correction surgery, recovery, and the unexpected challenges along the way.
I was born with kyphoscoliosis, which is a curvature of the spine both side-to-side and front-to-back. It’s a combination of kyphosis and scoliosis. From a young age until I was 14, I had to wear a back brace to stop the curve from getting worse. Sometimes I wore it all the time, sometimes just during the day, and other times only at night.
When I turned 14, I stopped growing, and a doctor told me the curve of my spine wouldn’t progress any further. They asked if I wanted scoliosis correction surgery, but at the time I said no. In 2018, I was asked again, and this time I agreed. I was given an information leaflet and placed on the waiting list.
Preparing for Surgery
In March 2019, I received a phone call saying I was next on the list. Shortly after, I got a letter about a pre-operation assessment. At the appointment, I spoke with a nurse and the surgeon, who answered my questions. They tried to take a blood test, but because my veins aren’t great, they couldn’t get enough blood. I was then sent for a breathing test, which involved inhaling fully and then exhaling as quickly and forcefully as possible to measure my lung function.
Admission Day
On June 10, 2019, I was admitted to hospital for surgery. My mum picked me up and took me to the ward. We waited for hours until my name was finally called. At first, we were taken to a large ward with lots of beds, but were told it was temporary until my room was ready. We sat there for hours. In the evening, someone offered me soup, but I wasn’t hungry. A nurse later came to complete paperwork and noticed I hadn’t passed the breathing test. To double-check my lung function, she asked me to walk up five flights of stairs with her and my mum.
Later, a doctor offered me some toast, and I was so relieved because I was starving. Around 7 p.m., I was finally moved into my own room. I got settled, changed into pyjamas, watched TV on my phone, and then my mum went home after spending five hours waiting with me.
The Operation
The next morning, my mum came back, and the surgeon went over the details of the procedure again. I was prepped and wheeled into theatre.
I woke up that evening in the high dependency ward. I remember seeing my mum and, later, my dad, but I drifted in and out of sleep, so my memory is hazy. I had really bad pins and needles in my leg when I woke up, but a doctor checked on me and made sure I was comfortable. Later, I tried eating dinner, but I threw up afterwards.
Recovery and Setbacks
The next day, I was moved to another ward. On June 15, I had a WhatsApp video call with my sister, but afterwards, I was sick again. I was sore and uncomfortable, so they increased my pain medication. The following day, doctors inserted a tube through my nose into my stomach to remove an air pocket. An X-ray confirmed it had worked.
That afternoon, I suddenly woke up in extreme stomach pain and ended up screaming. They put me on a nebuliser to help me breathe more easily. Every day, my blood pressure and heart rate were monitored. On June 17, my oxygen levels dropped, and after tests and X-rays, I was diagnosed with pneumonia. I was moved back to high dependency for extra oxygen.
That evening, a nurse washed and conditioned my hair, trimmed out some glue left from the wires used during surgery, and even plaited my hair—it made me feel cared for in such a difficult time. The next day, I was given a nasal cannula to help me breathe.
By June 20, I developed severe diarrhoea. A nurse explained it was from all the antibiotics I’d been given, as I hadn’t had a bowel movement since surgery. Because I was on oxygen, I didn’t do much physiotherapy in high dependency—just short transfers from bed to chair.
Getting Stronger
On June 21, I was moved back to the regular ward. I started to feel better and did more physiotherapy to regain my strength. At first, I needed to hold onto two physiotherapists to walk. Then I managed with just one, and eventually, I used a zimmer frame. I kept the frame for about a month after being discharged.
Finally, on June 26, I was discharged from hospital. I was supposed to stay for about a week, but because of pneumonia, I ended up being there much longer. I was so glad to go home—I was fed up with hospital life.
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