the hospital and close strangers.

I used to hate coming here.

It reminds me of sickness
And injury
And death.

And it reminds me of how I used to be a 'normal' kid, who only saw what it was like from the outside...

You might think that these kids are to be commemorated,
or pitied,
or mourned for.

But I know better.

These kids are happy.
They are brave.
They know not to take life for granted.
They live in the moment.

The best part of coming to hospital is that I meet people... Who like me, are waiting hopefully. For results, for improvement, for the day when they hopefully will not have to come back here again.

Inside the orthopaedics room, I can hear my doctors murmuring about scoliosis and degrees and curvature and thoracic and lumbar. Orthopaedic jargon, a language I've grown accustomed to in the last 3 years.

But it wasn't me they were talking about this time.
In walked a three year old girl. Poor thing. If she is diagnosed, she will be coming back for at least the next...
12 years.

Oh gosh.

Now that is depressing...

Next to me sit two teenage boys with their mothers and a tween girl with her family.

I want to talk to them, I want to let them know they are not the only ones to go through this.

But we are all strangers in this sad world.
And if I spoke, they would look at me as if I was a pedophile.
People have seriously stuffed up the world over the years.

Anyway whilst I am drowning in sorrow for other people's emerging problems, I almost forgot the reason I am here today.

On the 7th of March 2008, I started bracing to help decrease my 31 degree spinal scoliosis. And it worked. My curve is down to 16 degrees now and the aim was to stop it from getting worse, so I got a bonus, I guess. :D

So that's my scoliosis story. And hopefully in a few hours, I will have a happy ending to report. :)

Love you all,
Izzletays xoxxo

--------

I hate the way the system works here at this hospital.
When I go in for my 6-monthly checkup, I have three appointments.
Firstly the radiologist.
Then the orthopaedic.
Then the orthotist.

The radiologist takes xrays of my spine and sends them to the orthopaedic. The orthopaedic measures the curves and gives me an evaluation of how I'm going so far and how much more I have to endure. Then the orthotist (the brace person) checks up if I have any problems with the brace and gives me advice on how to manage my scoliosis after hearing what the guys upstairs (the orthopaedics) have to say.

Thing is... The orthopaedic and the orthotist always, always, nomatter what, differ in opinion.
And it
Is
So
Annoying.
-.-

Today I go the orthopaedic and he tells me that I am free of the brace forever.
But I don't trust him because the orthotist is always more pedantic.
So I don't get my hopes up.

Then we go downstairs to the orthotist, unable to believe what the orthpaedic said, she tells me I still have to wear my brace at night.
Waytotortureme. ;@
And before I know it, I'm crying.

Yet sitting on the tram now, I realise how lucky I am. I had seen so many teens coming back from being diagnosed. And I'm almost done.

It's just hard to be patient.
Especially after 3 years of being wrapped in plastic. The blood, sweat and tears I have literally had to endure. I just want out.
.
:S

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