“I’ll have you stand over here. Now I’d like you to reach down and touch your toes. And if you can’t touch your toes, that’s ok, just bend as far as you can.” These were roughly the instructions from the nurse who was giving me my physical when I was 13 years old. With my arms reaching downwards, I did as told.
I couldn’t reach my toes with straight legs, which allowed me to still see my stepmom who was sitting in the chair across from me as I figured out how far I could go. Her jaw dropped as I stood there partially bent over, arms dangling. That image has stayed with me. I can see her reaction of pure shock as if it were yesterday.
When the nurse said I had scoliosis I didn’t know what it meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t good. Little did I know this day was going to be a pivotal moment ingrained in my memory.
Scoliosis is the ugliest word that can be used to describe me. Like, can we not? I’m not ashamed of it, but come on you guys, can’t we do better? There is no making that word cute. I mean at best, “scoli” for short is a little better, but even that sounds like a strain of bacteria. Now, my personal thoughts aside, the term itself reveals an impressive history.
Scoliosis is ancient. Legit ancient. It was documented by Hippocrates, who lived from 460 – 340 BC, in the times of Ancient Greece (source). Hippocrates is the father of Western Medicine and is arguably the father of spine surgery (source).
Galen is an Ancient Greek physician who furthered the work started by Hippocrates. He lived from 130-200 AD (source). It is Galen’s work that is credited for the names of spinal conditions, including scoliosis, for medical terminology (source). The name, scoliosis, comes from the Greek word skolios which means “bent or crooked” (source).
What compels me to write about this is with scoliosis having a history that has documentation dating back to the beginning of medicine as we know it tells us something: if scoliosis was genetic, we’d know it by now. I say this with a bit of caution as there are firm believers that there is a genetic factor to the condition. I do not want to imply that this is not the case. The scoliosis gene itself has even been identified. I want to contribute to the way of thinking that genetic expressions are manifestations of an environmental or emotional (trauma/stress) trigger.
This history also tells us that scoliosis is not new. Getting the diagnosis is scary and it just kind of sucks. I know I was a mixed bag of emotions for years with it all. And now, I am fascinated by the condition, the mind/body/soul connection that plays into it, the complex emotional component. And I’m thankful for the incredible women I have had the pleasure to meet who are also on this journey. They are some of the most beautiful, loving, generous people I’ve ever met. I’ve been blessed. I have been so so blessed. Rereading this paragraph pleases me because the journey has the potential to change the way we see ourselves in the world. I’m growing to where I don’t have to judge the fact that I have this condition. It’s not a good thing. It’s not a bad thing. It’s simply a thing that I have experienced and continue to experience in this life. Now, having said that, I’d still REALLY like it to get a new name. It’s been a couple of thousand years. I think it’s time :)
What do you think about the history of scoliosis? What surprises you about its roots?
