A New Way of Looking at Scoliosis
August 10, 2010
Many of you have been inquiring about my recovery from back surgery and I am happy to report that I am pretty much back to normal, whatever that means. Although at my most recent follow-up exam, my magnificent Dr. S did remark that I do have one very serious complication with my spine. Turns out that I have an advanced case of idiot-pathic silly-osis (or was it idiopathic scoliosis?)
He tried to explain it to me. It made a lot of sense and explained quite a bit of my struggles with my teenagers, who do NOT appreciate silly, especially if it is their mom who is the one who’s being silly. As I understand it, my spine is now shaped like the shute on the Candy Land game board. 
As my discs have degenerated, they have been thrown out of alignment , thus they not able to support the weight of my spine equally on both sides, which has allowed the bones to shift, which apparently has caused a change in the position of my funny bone (who knew?) so that it is now bearing the brunt of my body weight and movement, which in turn, makes everything that I do and every word that comes out of my mouth sound- you guessed it- Silly.
Dr. S says there’s not much I can do about it and that they will find out more in the autopsy but until then I should just go out and live my life as best I can and to not take the diagnosis so seriously. He says that a lot of people go on to lead productive lives in spite of their silly-osis and that it could be worse. I could have Serio-sis, which would result in me being serious all the time, which would probably mean I’d fit right in at the ol’ Country Club and I could understand how to play Bridge and have meaningful discussions about foreign policy, climate change, soaring unemployment and ending world hunger. That would sure serve my kids right and prove to them how good they’ve got it now with me only having Silly-osis.
So I’m trying to look on the bright side. Silly-osis is very rare in women my age. Often young children develop it but it’s caught by the time they reach school age. Schools have developed an early-diagnosis program so that they can catch silly-osis before it becomes too life-threatening. The nuns from catholic school had all but eliminated silly-osis with the old smack of the ruler to the knuckles but since that’s not allowed any more there’s been an alarming resurgence in early childhood silly-osis.
And although I’ve tried to resist the urge to use the megaphone that I keep in my car to yell cheers at passers-by and to abandon my dear friend, Viola, 
I’m not having much success at managing my condition. My family has even attempted an intervention to stop me from bringing my vase-sized martini glass 
along to most social events, to no avail. I’m ashamed to say I play Taboo and Twenty Questions a lot more than would be considered healthy. And don’t get me started on the irresistible problems I encounter with Karaoke Night. I just can’t seem to get my condition into remission.
But I’m not giving up. Just last month I went to see a production Shakespeare in the Park. It was Othello to boot (although I admit that I left early. I told you it’s a struggle). And only yesterday, I considered attending a lecture on a documentary on the relationship between Art & War. I think that’s what it was about. Now that’s workin’ the program. Of course, I’m not feeling very productive. This illness is debilitating in that regard. Not much gets done, let me tell you.
The good news? Well, the good news is that silly-osis is not terminal. It’s manageable and eventually I hope to contain my outbreaks to the occasional situation where I trick my husband into taking me somewhere that has a DJ. This is where my inner-sillychild raises the roof (oo-ah, oo-ah-ah), donkey kicks (which in dancing-for-dummies terms is sort of like the cha-cha. Hands in the air while alternating horse hoof kicks- You know. 1-2-3 kicka hoof, 1-2-3 kick the other hoof, ) and I even find myself Moon Walking (even though I can’t do it which qualifies it as silly as opposed to impressive) in honor of The Man in the White Glove. So if you see me on the dance floor you’ll know that my hips are good as new, and that my back is better but that I am definitely a woman prone to the occasional relapse.
Call me Silly.
Comments
Got something to say?
Sign Up for Special Insider Info and Tips!
