Patient Stories

On June 9, 2020 my life and world drastically changed. Life threw me a curve. Let me start from the beginning. My name is Samantha Dring. I am fifteen years old. I am a swimmer. I am not a recreational swimmer, I am a serious swimmer. I love swimming. I breath, eat and sleep swimming. I feel alive when I’m in the water, whether in the pool, in the ocean or in the bathtub. I have been swimming competitively since age 6. To say swimming is my passion is an understatement. I love swimming so much that on some days, I wake up at 5:15 am and swim before I go to school. I practice 6 days a week, 2 hours a day.

It was on such a day, after practice, while stretching out my back, which had been sore, that my mom first noticed my shoulder blades were uneven. She asked me to bend over and noticed my spine was crooked and my shoulders uneven. She asked me how I felt in the water and I told her oddly enough, lately, I felt my body was sinking to the right while breathing on that side during freestyle. I was experiencing back pain but I attributed it to too many sets of butterfly (my favorite and best stroke.) We discussed how my swimming times were stuck at a plateau; although I practiced long and hard, my times were not dropping. She said it did not look right and we should see an orthopedic specialist. My mother is a pediatrician who works at Columbia Presbyterian Children’s Hospital of New York, as a hospitalist in the Pediatric Cardiology department. A few days later we had an appointment with an orthopedic doctor who ordered x-rays. After the x-rays he ordered an MRI and with that began the flood of appointments with physical therapists, doctors and orthopedic surgeons. It was weird how my life suddenly changed. One day I was a happy normal Freshman looking forward to swim meets and weekends, the next, I was being dragged from doctor to doctor, Xray to MRI, physical trainer to therapist. My world was turning upside down and my mind was slowly becoming filled with fear and uncertainty.

A few weeks later, the verdict was in. I was diagnosed with a 51 degree thoracic curve and a 40 degree lumbar curve. Much as I tried, I could not comprehend what that meant or why it mattered. I just wanted to know if I could continue swimming and would the pain in my back stop – and would my shoulders look better. But what I heard over and over was the word surgery. That word hit me like a huge wave, drowning me with fear and anxiety. I realized then just how serious scoliosis was. Surgery was a serious thing. Surgery meant weeks of recuperation. Surgery meant medications, pain and who knows what else. I’ve never had surgery before. My father is a surgeon and once in a while I hear him talking about a surgery or complications or recovery. When I overheard his conversations, they were just meaningless words, descriptions, and conditions that related to others. Now surgery was something happening to me. Now I felt fear. I also heard that fear while eavesdropping on a conversation between my parents. I heard fear in their voices and words. I never felt that kind of fear before. Now that fear was in me and for me. Scoliosis surgery is serious surgery. It is painful, it is scary – and soon I would find out just how scary and painful. Would I be able to cope, to survive? Was I strong enough to undergo surgery and recuperation? Would I recover fully? Would I be able to walk, run, ride a bike? Would I be able to swim?

My mother comes from a large, close-knit family who is always at each other’s houses and involved in each other’s lives – in a nice, fun and supportive way. We are constantly celebrating birthdays, christenings, weddings, graduations, good food, and love. My scoliosis and the possibility of major surgery became the constant conversation of my family during February and everyone in the family was involved with attempting to understand the outcome of every doctor visit and every prognosis, diagnosis and eventual decision. We prayed together, attended masses, said novenas, beseeching the almighty, His mother and all the saints for a miracle or even a non-surgical resolution, even a slight improvement in the next MRI. It did not happen. Actually, my curve was worse and surgery became the only answer.

In March, our collective prayers were answered with an appointment with Dr. Lawrence Lenke. He is a world renowned Orthopedic Surgeon specializing in spines. After looking at my MRI and Xray, Dr. Lenke and his team examined me and decided spinal fusion was the only answer. He suggested surgery sometime in June due to my rigorous academic schedule. I would not miss much school and would be able to recuperate during the summer. He talked us through the entire process of the surgery. He reassured us that he has worked with many swimmers in similar situations, many of whom had remarkable recoveries. I was overcome with fear, tears and doubt. I was in shock. Both my parents had many medical questions, which Dr. Lenke and his team answered. All I thought about was how two rods and 18 screws in my spine would affect my life, i.e. my butterfly stroke, which requires tremendous flexibility and undulation. Dr. Lenke said it would be a difficult and painful recovery, but possible. He said he would be performing a fusion of my thoracic spine from T4 -T12. This would allow me to keep as much flexibility as possible. He felt I still had many months of growth left and felt that my lumbar curve would eventually decrease greatly as I grew. He would perform the surgery, but emphasized the rest was up to me. Those words rang in my ears for weeks to come.

We went home that day and immediately began reading scoliosis success stories, like the one I am writing today. Reading all these stories alleviated my fear and elevated my hopes of continuing with swimming and my normal life. Things weren’t so bad after all. I was looking forward to maybe even getting the surgery sooner than anticipated. Then Covid 19 happened. Not only was everyone fearing Covid, especially my parents working in hospitals, but swimming was cancelled. That meant championship season was cancelled. School became virtual, so no socializing, no normalcy. I decided to focus on reading stories of recuperating from scoliosis. My grandmother sent me a book on scoliosis successes. My other grandmother opened her pool earlier than usual to remind me what my goals were. I started planning and thinking and preparing. I envisioned swimming again, getting stronger and better. Covid and news of deaths, not enough hospital beds, not enough nurses and doctors to help with the epidemic and people suffering, the loss of loved ones – that was now the reality and also the focus of me and my family. We prayed now for them and for us. We hoped we could have my spinal surgery because all non-emergency surgery was halted. Funny how things change, three months earlier, surgery was a dreaded word, now it was my hope and wish.

I trusted and believed Dr. Lenke would be successful, but my fears now were about me. Could I, would I – work hard enough to completely recover? Was I capable? Was I strong enough? What if I couldn’t do it, then what would happen? Seeing my parents working so hard during this pandemic, especially my dad who went to the hospital every day, not knowing if he would make it home that night, if he could help the sick, if he was bringing home Covid to his family, gave me my answer. Yes I would recover. Yes I could do it. Yes I was strong enough. Yes I would be back in the pool at my grandmother’s house this summer! I looked forward and wanted June 9 to come. It couldn’t come soon enough as far as I was concerned.

On the morning of June 9 I said good-bye to my dad and brothers. Tears filled my eyes and theirs. My aunt dropped my mom and me at the hospital. Due to Covid, only my mom could stay with me. I tried my best to act relaxed, and not show fear. I brushed away tears hoping my mom would not see. I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to make Dr. Lenke proud. Dr. Lenke came into my room before the surgery and once again explained the procedure. I could barely see his face through my blurry eyes, hardly hear his voice or feel my hand, as it was squeezed by my mom. It would be 7 hours before I could see her again. I missed her already. I couldn’t wait to be rolled into the OR. I wanted to be my old self again, swimming, laughing, fighting with my brothers. Soon I would be in recovery, getting better stronger and swimming! I could do it.

I woke up next to my mom, who was smiling through tears at me, in the PACU unit (post-anesthesia care unit). I was groggy and feeling no pain, in and out of sleep. To this day I do not remember any of the videos my mom took of me saying hi to my dad, brothers, cousins, grandparents and other family members. I still watch those videos and laugh at the weird remarks I made. My hospital stay mainly consisted of sleeping, talking to my mom and facetiming my family and friends, all while doctors, nurses and physical therapists were streaming in my room making sure I was okay. Since my surgery was early in the morning, I hit many milestones during that first afternoon. I started getting out of bed, walking, doing stairs and voiding. I even ate a little too. Dr. Lenke came to check on me at the end of the day and was shocked and pleased by my remarkable recovery. The following morning (Post-Op day 1), he came by to see me and tell me I could go home and continue the recovery at home. He was amazed at my determination. He could not believe I was leaving the hospital one day after surgery. I was determined to do well and recover completely. The first few weeks I was in pain. I kept listening to my inner voice which told me this would all end soon and I could and would do it. My mom was my rock through all of this. She gave me confidence and a desire to get better quickly and also reassurance not to get down on myself. She slept on an air mattress next to my bed every night for 3 weeks. She would wake up many times a night to give me my medicine and stay on top of the pain before it overwhelmed me. She pushed me to keep working hard and get better. It was getting warmer out, the long summer days were upon us, and all my friends were out swimming and having fun while I was walking with pain and trying to get stronger and remain positive. It was still the world of Covid so I wasn’t allowed to have my friends visit me, but as I said, I have a large loving family, so grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins would visit (socially distant of course). They were supportive and marveled at my progress, but I had a long way to go. When would I be able to swim again was a question I kept asking myself. Soon, was the answer I repeatedly whispered.

After 3 weeks of walking with a walker, then aided by help from my mom, and finally alone, I was able to step into my grandparent’s pool and slowly walk back and forth. It was divine! Dr. Lenke was right, I was strong and could do this. Slowly I was back to swimming laps. No diving, no flip turns, but I was back in the water. My coaches and friends were excited to see me back at practice after 4 weeks. I felt different than before. My strokes felt more balanced and I overall felt great. My spine was straight. My shoulders more even. Every day I worked harder and harder. By the end of August, I grew 1-1/2 inches and I swam in my first meet since surgery. I was able to dive, do flip turns, race, and most of all, have fun again doing my favorite thing…swim! I only swam the 50 free and 100 free and I felt great! Now I am 3 months post op and I am completely back to normal. I can do everything that I could do before and I am so proud of myself for working so hard to get to where I am. People see my scar when my hair is up and wince. Did it hurt they ask. Does it feel funny with rods and screws? I see my scar as a battle wound. A battle, which I proudly won! My scar reminds me how hard I worked and inspires me to help others who are faced with the scare of scoliosis. It reminds me of determination and of brilliant, hard working, dedicated people like Dr. Lenke and his team, whose purpose in life is to help others. My scar is a reminder never to doubt my strength. It reminds me that hard work and determination always win every time. Yes, it is hard and sometimes it hurts, but if you put your mind to it you can achieve anything you desire. A strong spine begins and ends in the mind. My scar identifies me, but it does not define me. I am 15 years old and I have experienced scary scoliosis surgery. I successfully recovered. I am stronger, more hopeful, more resilient, determined and happier at the prospect of my future. Life threw me a curve and I hit it hard…..out of the park! Thanks be to my family and the incredible team of doctors, nurses and supporters.