Mutiny on the Body
A memoir for Scoliosis Awareness Month
As a child, I could never trust my body. At least one anatomical part would always be in open rebellion — my teeth refused to stand in straight military lines like everyone else’s; my eyes saw no further than a foot in front of my face; and my feet tripped me at the most embarrassing moments possible. with all of these problems, you’d think that I’d be on the lookout for any further insurrection. Nevertheless, I was caught off-guard when my back turned its back on me.
It all started when I got my first bra. Mom couldn’t figure out why it looked crooked. The bra wasn’t crooked, but my back was. So Mom and I went to our family doctor who, in turn, sent me to the local orthopedic surgeon.
Orthopedic surgeon.
Just the name scared me. That’s someone who cuts people open to fix their bones. Thank you very much, but I preferred to leave my bones just as they were with no outside interference. But I went to Dr. Kubiak anyway, and he told me on that first visit that I had scoliosis. More precisely, he told my mother that I had scoliosis. I don’t think he ever talked to me. After all, I was only about twelve and of course didn’t understand the English language yet.
He was a crotchety old man with no bedside manner, making me feel like I was just a bag of…
