A Year Out

It's hard to believe that it's been a year since my time at the CLEAR Institute. In that time I've run through seven different sports seasons, been to four different countries and fourteen different states. I've tutored regularly at the elementary school down the street, and I've tutored at a primary school in the Dominican. I've had a concussion, and of course, I've had my scoliosis. 

A lot has happened, and I've grown from each of my experiences. I'm more confident than I was a year ago, physically and mentally. I stand straighter, my head is more centered, and I walk more normally. Overall, I feel better in my body, and I'm happy with the way that I've gotten here. It's taken dedication, some early mornings, some late nights, but I put in the work to change my body. Even if the numbers don't necessarily agree, I'm incredibly happy with how I turned out to be. 

What Is Success?

First off, apologies. I didn't realize until now that this post never published. This was from my doctor's appointment in May. 

I've met with my scoliosis doctor every year since I was nine years old. She's shared my journey from bracing to the threat of surgery and then to physical therapy. She's constantly encouraged me, and even now, when my curve is back to a 46, she is still pushing me on, finding the positives in everything. 

I've been through the three stages: pain, dread, and comfort. Now I've moved to the next one: done. I've been done with the cantilever for a few weeks now, slowly weening down from four to three to two to one time a day and then just none. 

It kind of just happened naturally, but it also happened according to the plan. Dr Dovorany had told me that I would make the transition and when I went to see my scoliosis doctor here, she approved too. The one person who did not approve was my mother. 

My mom wanted me in the cantilever doing exercises for as long as possible. But clearly as the numbers show, regular cantilever sessions alone were not working for my curve. At first, she and I both took the increase as a failure in the CLEAR Institute's program, but my surgeon doctor helped us see otherwise. She pointed out that it really hadn't gotten worse, it just went back to it's original shape (and that was weeks without exercise). We don't know how it would have progressed if I hadn't done the program, and most importantly, we don't know what will happen in the future. Maybe the cantilever did help when I used it four times a day, but then would I be willing to do it four times a day for the rest of my life? We came to the conclusion that any continuous treatment wouldn't be worth sacrificing my quality of life. At any rate, I'm feeling straighter and better than ever. What are numbers when they don't even affect how I feel? What is success but that which is defined by me and my happiness?