Scoliosis: Life, Support & Friends

It started so well, we casually gathered our belongings as we were heading down to the coast so my husband could play poker with his friends, stay at our townhouse and then get up the next day and finish off the last few bits before our guests arrive on Sunday for 3 months, from Canda. We spent a few hours at our friend's house, Chris played poker while I chatted to my girlfriend, Karen. I was comfortable while at their house, we were sat on a swing which has good support for the back and not too soft. This morning we went out for breakfast and I was fine, although feeling the effects of the bottle and a half of wine we drank each, hehehe. We then had to go to the shop and buy some curtain ends, nothing too exciting or over strenuous! Back at the house we put curtains up, checked the internet was on as planned and I cleaned the windows and did some light pruning in the garden, the plumbago and gazanias are amazingly large now so I cut them back and cleaned up after myself, s

My mom and I were recalling some of our later experiences in the blood thirsty adventure that is the Alberta Health Care system, and a particular memory got me thinking more about my second surgeon. I figured I did an Ode to Dr. Elf (lord help me if any doctor ever stumbles upon this page), and now it's time to address the issue of Dr. Stoic. When I hit the tragic age of 18 I was informed that I was no longer allowed to go to the Alberta Children's Hospital as I had exceeded their maximum height allowance. Also, last time they opened me up they counted my rings and discovered I was far older than appropriate for hanging around small children (apparently clowns can do it and no one makes a sound. Go figure.) So as I stated previously Dr. Elf and I laid out three potential surgeons. He patiently went through them one by one, giving a thorough explanation for each although suspiciously leaving out their criminal records which I request from anyone I spend more than five minutes

Simone's last post got me thinking more about my own personal experiences with my surgeons. Not the experiences involving them explaining what exactly scoliosis is and why I should fear for my life (I was a teenager, everything is exaggerated in my memory), but the personal experiences that rose from the witty banter and crude sarcasm that was exchanged between us while my poor mother watched on while shaking her head in dismay. When I was first diagnosed back in Kelowna at the age of 11 I went, at least temporarily to a local doctor by the name of Dr. I-Can't-Deal-With-Children O'Farrell. Maybe that's a bit unfair of me, my memory of that whole time is a bit blurred, and any recollection I do carry of him generally involves me feeling about two inches tall. I'm sure he was/is a good Doctor, but his experiences were with adults who figured the high arches in their feet gave them reason to complain until they had passed out. Perhaps it was a mercy that my spine went

I am now ready to talk about my visit with Mr Evan Davies on Friday 9th April, 2010. I have been very quiet which is unusual for me but I did my normal thing - keep busy and ignore what was said until there is a point where I have to think about it. I am usually such a gob shite but I switched off, I avoided anything social media and just turned off my PC, I know I should have updated my wonderful Scoliosis family but I was torn inside and really did not want to talk. I met on time with Mr Davies and first impressions were wonderful, I was told he was a good guy and out of all the Drs I have met in my time I warmed to him very well, I thought he had great bedside manner and I also appreciated his bluntness. He did more x-rays and he was very impressed that I had all my medical notes and x-rays since the original surgery - well considering I have been banging on about getting medical history and how important it can be I could hardly arrive without mine could I!? hehehehe He read th

Another bad back week; for some reason the last month has been a bit more rough than its predecessors. My theories are as follows: 1) The stress from school ending, work getting hectic, and my cat nearly croaking has caused some sort of strange pain increase that doesn't really make sense but hey, who am I to argue? Or 2) Aliens have begun to carefully harvest the muscles in and around my back during the night in order to create a duplicate of me on Mars so they may cultivate a new humanity with myself as the almighty and benevolent ruler. I'm thinking it must be one but secretly I'm rooting for two. Of course, with my pain fluctuating so much recently my mom and I have begun to once again wonder where the heck our appointment for the pain clinic in Calgary is? I received the paper work for it way back in January and sent it in fairly promptly. When I called last month the obligatory irate secretary sounded completely miffed that I'd have the nerve to assume that thre