It's been a week since my surgery and I'm pissed. Nobody told me about this part. Nobody told me how I can't do ANYTHING by myself including showering, going to the bathroom, walking, etc. Nobody told me that every part of the day would be spent in pain. I knew there would be a recovery, but I thought it would be like if I stayed in bed and kept up on my meds I'd feel fine and be able to do stuff. I can't even get a full nights sleep! Every two hours my mom has to come turn me over because I can't stay in the same position for too long. My poor mom. Nobody told me how much this would suck.

So it's 1 am the night before my surgery. Every time I look down I see the hospital bracelet I received when I had my blood drawn today. Up to this point the surgery seemed to be happening to someone else, but the bracelet serves as a reminder that that no, this is actually happening to me. It still doesn't feel like a big deal. If I heard of someone else getting this surgery, though, I'd be horrified for them. This is just something I have to do, and I will be relieved when it's over. I just keep thinking that 24 hours from now it will be over. There will be pain and discomfort, but all the terrifying stuff will be over. I report at 12:15 tomorrow afternoon. I should probably try and sleep now. Hopefully I am able to post soon.

I've had a few "I should not feel this way already" moments in the last few days. I stood up from the couch yesterday and had to hobble for a minute before my back relaxed enough to walk normal. I'm also redecorating my room before the surgery and I've had a hard time with some of the projects. I just spent the last hour and a half sitting on the floor painting the baseboards and my lower back is killing me. Yesterday I helped my mom uncover a chair we're planning to reupholster. I had to get some staples out from under the  chair arm, which meant craning my neck a little and I couldn't do it, not even for a minute.  I'm 19 years old for crying out loud! Life should not cause me this much pain. Not yet. Hopefully it won't in a few months and I'll feel like a normal person my age.

When I tell people I'm getting back surgery I receive a variety of responses. My grandpa thought I should go somewhere where they would pull my arms and legs in opposite directions to straighten out my spine. I'm not sure anyone even does that anymore.

The place where I'm forced to explain my summer plans the most is church. I've learned to hate the question, "So what are you doing this summer?" I have this inner battle of whether I should tell the person or not. Keeping it a secret seems silly since everyone is going to find out anyway, but I also don't want to have a pity party. If I don't know the person too well I try to go around it by saying that I'm working a little bit. If I'm forced to tell them I try to brush it off like it's no big deal. The typical conversation then proceeds as follows:

There eyes grow wide and the look of horror and concern spreads across their face. "I'm so sorry, what's wrong?"

"Basically, I'm a hunchback."

"You don't look like a hunchback."

"Well, thanks... I guess."

Not everyone points out that I look fine, but most people do and I hate it. I feel like that response seeps of judgement as they wonder why I'm taking such drastic measures for what seems like a small problem. When you consider it is progressively getting worse and I could be a hunched over old lady at 35, my organs can literally be crushed inside my body and I will suffer from decreased lung capacity it's kind of a big deal.

I don't usually have time to explain this to a lot of people, though so instead I play the pain card. Usually they ask if it hurts and I say yes because it does. If I was guaranteed my spine and the accompanying pain wouldn't get any worse, however, I would probably not be getting surgery. I don't tell them that though and use the pain as an excuse for the drastic measures.

A few days ago while talking to someone about my surgery she said, "Well that just shows that life isn't fair." That caught me off guard because I've never had a "Why me?" moment. Maybe it's because my extended family has a long list of incurable health problems that I've never thought of my situation as unfair. Because of my family's medical history I know I will receive my share of health problems, but kyphosis isn't so bad because it can be fixed. One of my mom's sisters died at age 53 because of heart problems and the other one suffers from lupus. My mom herself is in constant pain and always exhausted, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong with her. I know what's wrong with me and I can be cured. The surgery is good because it will eliminate (hopefully) further complications from kyphosis down the road.  My condition seems the most fair: I have a problem, I'm fixing it. I just pray that I still feel this way in three months.

Hello! My name's Lauren. I'm 19 years old, a sophomore at Utah State University but currently living in Orem, Utah with my parents. I also have kyphosis. I'm getting surgery to hopefully fix this issue two weeks from today. I started this blog because I've found others' personal accounts helpful (or terrifying) as surgery has fast approached. I thought I could add to the dialogue. The best is to read something like, "Surgery is the best decision I ever made." I certainly hope to write this in a few months.

It's also nice just to submit my story to the blogosphere where no judgement will be passed on how I think/feel about the situation. It seems like anyone I tell about my surgery either overreacts or under reacts. It will be nice just to talk about the experience without having to see the look of pity, judgement or horror on the other person's face. However, if anyone has any questions or experiences to share feel free.

Hopefully this can be a help to me and to others as I go through this life-changing experience.