Hi everyone,

Huge apologies for the recent silence. I won't try and explain or make excuses as if you know me well you'll know why it is. If you don't and want to get in touch that would be great but I don't want to bore you!

I've just written an article for Backbone - the SAUK newsletter. I'm reasonably happy with it and have sent it over to them tonight, but thought that posting it here might also be helpful. I'm very conscious of the number of people I know that are anticipating surgery or recovering from it and if anything I say or write can help someone then I want to get it out there!

I will write more on another subject soon but for now here is the Backbone article - along with my love and best wishes for a very Happy New Year.

I clearly remember being asked to bend over and touch my toes. I don’t remember exactly what happened after that but it was obvious that something significant was wrong by the reaction of the school nurse and my mother.

I’m not sure exactly how old I would have been – around 12/13 I guess – and the occasion was a school medical. Back in the days of nit nurses, sight and hearing tests and BCGs for all – already you may have guessed that I’m not a typical two year post-op scoliosis patient! That medical was probably four decades ago now, and just the beginning of what has been a long and winding road. Much like my spine.

The diagnosis of adolescent idiopathic scoliosis – AIS – was confirmed at the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital at Bolsover Street. The following months – or was it years – seem to blur into one when I look back and remember the appointments, x rays, measurements and eventually the decision to go for surgery and hearing it would be a wait of around three months.

I’m not absolutely sure why the operation never went ahead. I guess my parents decided the risks outweighed the benefits. I seem to recall the doctors emphasising the dangers of surgery at that time. I wasn’t in pain – I hadn’t even been aware that there was an issue. Once it was pointed out though I did of course become aware of the rib hump, and increasingly self-conscious. I stopped wearing skimpy tops or vests, or bikinis, or horizontal stripes, or anything that drew attention to it. Underwear didn’t fit properly and straps slid off my shoulder.

No one will ever be able to say for sure that the two were related but is it altogether surprising that I went on to develop an eating disorder that resulted in three months hospitalisation? If anorexia is related to self-esteem and how you view your body then there was enough going on to keep any psychologist in business – though sadly at the time no one seemed to make the connection and self-starvation took precedence over spinal curvature.

One very vivid memory from those teenage years is that of the visits to the osteopath. I’m unsure if they were intended to help the pain – which I don’t actually recall – or an attempt to correct the curve. What I do remember is a dark and –to a teenage girl – evil smelling room lined with shelves of herbs and embrocations. Stripping to my underwear in order to be swung around by a middle aged/elderly gentleman was something I hated with a vengeance.

Fast forward to my early twenties and I married the man who was to be my husband for thirty years last time I looked! The very first wedding dress I tried on had a lace “cape” that fell from the shoulders to my waist perfectly disguising the hump I was now so conscious of as I stood at the altar. And that was to set the pattern for the next twenty something years, as life would be about avoiding, disguising and denying my scoliosis.

Over the years I gave birth to four children – natural drug free deliveries, two at home. Having been told an epidural would be problematic I made sure I was well prepared. Back pain was by now an on-going and increasing problem but visits to my GP usually resulted in a prescription for painkillers and perhaps a few sessions of physio. Plus one painful and unsuccessful attempt at acupuncture!

A significant turning point came at the grand age of 50. For some time I had experienced problems with my breathing and I was a regular user of both “blue” and “brown” inhalers. A particularly bad “episode” led me to seek medical advice and co-incidentally I attended an SAUK conference at around the same time. I asked for a referral to a scoliosis specialist.

Some weeks passed and I wondered if I would ever hear anything. When I did however it was exactly what was required. My brilliant GP had successfully bypassed the orthopaedic surgeon at our local general hospital and I was to be seen at Stanmore Orthopaedic – a centre of excellence.

My first appointment was incredibly positive. I had a severe – but correctable – curve and was sent for MRI and bone scans with a view to corrective surgery. This came as a huge shock after so many years and not having considered the possibility of a correction, but initially I felt quite positive especially when it came to the cosmetic improvement I could expect.

The scan results were less encouraging - when I went to see my consultant again he spelt out the risks in no uncertain terms. My 66 degree curve was progressing rapidly and would require two surgeries a week or so apart. I could expect to be in hospital for a month, with possible side effects including chest infection and paralysis. I left the consultation in turmoil, unsure what to do, but decided a second opinion was the sensible way forward.

And that was the best decision I ever made. Stewart Tucker reviewed my notes, surveyed my scans and concluded my curve “does not look too daunting”. He would operate in two weeks time, anterior and posterior surgery in one day, and I should be out of hospital in two weeks.

Details of what happened next can be found on my blog www.lookingforlinda.blogspot.com

I made it my mission to write something (almost) every day – from the angst over whether to undergo surgery through the hospitalisation to recovery and beyond. I really hope that you would like to join the many people who chose to join me on the journey by reading the blog, but if not then I’ll try to summarise in a sentence or two.

Scoliosis surgery was the biggest challenge of my life. I’ve heard it said that the only surgery more difficult is a heart and lung transplant and can well believe that. Having given birth to four babies with just a whiff of gas as pain relief I have never known pain such as that post op. Thank God for the wonderful nurses, and the drugs, that can control it and help you towards recovery.

Almost two years post op I feel as if I am finally “getting my life back”. Pain is no longer the single uppermost thought on waking and throughout the day. The post-traumatic stress is receding. I absolutely adore wearing dresses and have bought way too many over the past months!

Suddenly life is stretched out before me in a way it hasn’t been for some time. This time last year – and the one before – I welcomed the New Year with tears. This year it will be with a smile. I’d love to talk to you more about scoliosis if it’s something that affects your life so please find me online. Lindaaanderson (Twitter) or Lindaanneanderson (FB) – and do check out that blog!

Lindaaanderson@hotmail.co.uk

The road to recovery

Photo is pure vanity and totally un-blog-related. Like a guy who can make me look good in a photo so huge shout out to @FABSNETWORK Thank you!

And now to business....

Why have I been procrastinating about writing tonight then? I have an inkling of an idea and it's not just the distraction afforded by the twitosphere this evening. Neither is it the fact I've been catching up on #downton and #corrie having worked Sunday evening and played yesterday.

I'm thrilled, honoured, delighted and surprised that this humble blog now gets a goodly number of visits each day, and has been picked up, recommended, linked to and retweeted in many corners of cyberspace.

But in the words of that great superhero as he spun his sticky web across NY City, with power comes responsibility. Note I omitted "great" on this occasion as one thing I don't have is delusions of grandeur. A couple of hundred followers doesn't make me Stephen Fry, and by reading this you're probably in the company of just a hundred or so others who've done so today.

When I started out on this bloggy road I spent a lot of time agonising about putting my thoughts "out there" for the consumption of others, and for a while the agony stopped me altogether. When I had to make the decision about spinal surgery the blog took a different turn as a way of keeping in touch with friends and family. It replaced round robin texts, emails and phone calls, at the same time giving each day a focus. There were days when typing a couple of hundred words on here was all I could manage, but it did provide a sense of achievement.

Recently I've moved away from blogging my scoliosis journey - there hasn't been much to report. But writing has become addictive and I've experimented with allsorts (see my twitter profile - @lindaaanderson - where that word makes another appearance!) It would be great to have more comments on here and really get a conversation going - I love all the texts, emails and FB messages but confess I don't always get round to responding - sorry.

Allsorts however doesn't make for an easily identifiable blog. I follow several others and they all have a definite theme and purpose. Generally music, politics, or theology which of course betrays my areas of interest. Why then don't I blog in a similar vein?

I've been giving this some thought and had a bit of a revelation about it all today. What's happening now is still in fact part of the scoliosis journey. I may repeat that as it's so important. What's happening now is still part of the scoliosis journey.

Pre-surgery I barely blogged. Fear held me back from speaking out - even speaking at times - for fear of what others might say. Or think. Pre-surgery I didn't give much thought to what interested me or what I wanted to do with life, I just got on with it, probably working too hard in the process. Pre-surgery I didn't use Blogger or Twitter so this probably wouldn't have been possible anyway but had they been more widespread I'm not sure I'd have jumped on board then. I'd have been way too worried about what people might say. Or think. Do you see a pattern emerging yet?

Opting to undergo scoliosis surgery is a massive decision. Go back to my early posts and you can see how I agonised over it. The surgery itself is painful; if you are a teenager you can expect six to eight weeks off school. If you are in your twenties or thirties it will take you longer to recover as your body has been in its twisty position for that much longer.

Fast forward twenty years or so to a fifty year old with a pretty large curvature and you are looking at a couple of years recovery time. It's not fair to say it's more painful - which is after all a relative phenomenon. One person's papercut has another screaming for morphine :-)

But it's not wrong or unrealistic to say that recovery is likely to be prolonged and more challenging if you are of ...erm... more mature years. Perhaps this blog with its ups and downs, highdays and downdays, rationale and ramblings, is actually still just a record of that recovery purpose. A very public record I confess, and one that I am sure some might dismiss as self indulgent. But if it helps anyone else going through this process then I am glad so please tell me!

And for anyone else reading this - I hope this offers an insight into life-changing surgery. Into an experience that changes you body, mind and dare I say it soul. I hope it makes you smile and makes you think, though I accept tonight it may be making you yawn as it is waaaaaay too long!

Perhaps I need to revisit the dinner party guests idea - still loving that and Mr Gary Barlow is so much in the news lately it might make for an interesting post!

Linda

Oh - almost forgot - thank you for all the messages about my job! Another subject to write more about soon!

A Life More Ordinary

Where to begin - one of those days today where a lot went wrong, a few things went right, a lot happened but I didn't seem to get anything done...

Meanwhile, more of you lovely people than ever seem to be reading this blog, and it's been picked up in a few places which means it will be shared more widely. I've been asked to write a 1000 word article for SAUK and hopefully more writing work will be coming my way from other directions. As if this weren't exciting enough my Klout score has increased and I'm now almost in the 95th percentile! Granted my expertise and influence are primarily in the areas of ... erm... tea and the X Factor :-)

I confess to being slightly bemused by all this. It's not as though I have half a million followers on Twitter, or massive influence when it comes to politics, or even international development it being the area I work in. Some of the stuff that interests me also embarrasses me if I am honest. But maybe it's a sign of older age that this no longer worries me.

That doesn't mean that I don't want to be well informed when it comes to events on the international stage, politics, economics or business. It does mean that I am happy to listen and learn from others and not always feel that I have to compete or even contribute. It doesn't mean I've been seduced by the whole celebrity/I want it and I want it now quick-fix culture of reality TV. It does mean that love it or hate it this is a popular part of today's culture that many find entertaining and I want to engage with it and comment in an informed way, especially working as I do with young people.

I've heard it said that if you are going to engage on the social media stage you need to be strategic, stick to one subject and choose when to tweet/update your status with care and precision. I'm not arguing with any of that, other than to say that perhaps there is also a place for those of us that tweet about allsorts, post a huge variety of stuff on Facebook, disappear for a while and receive a warm welcome back when we re-emerge into cyberspace from what has been called the real world. But nowadays surely it is less the real world and more just an alternative reality - is this post, this evenings posts and conversations, any less real than the meal I cooked for the family earlier on?

I read a fair number of blogs, follow a lot of people on Twitter, have a mass of friends on The Book. Somewhere in the ether a GooglePlus account with my name on it is trundling along. In spite of my rant a few weeks back I'm not really going to take a hammer to my hard drive and I fully accept it's not practical for us to knock on each others doors the way we used to. Perhaps what we do on here - a Retweet for example - is the current day equivalent of the request for a cup of sugar? Something you could live without but opens the door to a conversation and communication?

But - and I really must wind up and get to bed - I worry if we become so hung up on the way that we use social media that it's all about rights and wrongs. Heaven forbid we start to worry if someone has tweeted us back or liked our post, if our Klout score has gone down or our hits dropped, when for much of the time it doesn't matter.

If we're in business and using social media as a tool then of course this does not apply - all power to those elbows and get out there and get noticed! But for those of us trundling along, much like my Google Plus account, is there really any shame in simply enjoying the ride and perhaps being a little more ordinary?

Why don't I write more often?

More specifically why haven't I written more often recently?

It's not as though there hasn't been plenty to write about - personal stuff about pain levels, job situation, half term holidays, amazing family and friends doing incredible things. And less personal stuff about St Paul's, the birth of the 7 billionth person, Greece...

Maybe because I've been busy writing? My first proper writing job - two series of Advent reflections for Christian Aid. The first one being twenty nine 180 character daily thoughts, the second being four weekly reflections, for use in churches on the Sundays in Advent.

It's been an interesting process. I absolutely loved the research, planning, writing, editing. The sense of satisfaction in coming up with something that reads well and will be useful to others - much as I hope this blog has been over the months and years.

The more challenging aspect of the project was the sign off process and for me personally realising that everyone has an opinion on what should be said and how. It's been hard to choose where to concede, where to insist on sticking by what I wrote, and not to doubt my own thinking and writing.

It's made me totally appreciate how tough it can be to write, and the importance of a good editor. For a while it made me think it's something I could never do again. But now that the second of the two projects is finally signed off I am itching for another...

Maybe this is an indication that writing really is my thing, if so that would be encouraging as today I also had my end of contract meeting which means my post is not being renewed and I need to start looking and thinking again about what is next.

I may write a piece for Backbone - the Scoliosis Association magazine. Hopefully to encourage and not scare off others considering surgery! I still feel I have that novel in me - maybe if there really isn't another role for me in Christian Aid it will be time to sit down and get it out?

Meanwhile, I've deferred the surgery to remove the dodgy screw, or any more of the metalwork, for the foreseeable future. I simply cannot put myself in a situation where if a job arose that I was interested in I would miss out because I wasn't in the office. There are days when the pain is bearable, and nowadays there are even whole periods of time - an hour or two maybe - when it is not uppermost in my mind. There are other days when the pain makes me sick and I can't get out of bed. But I know that those days will pass, perhaps they are a sign of the need to pace myself and do a little bit less. Perhaps take the Jubilee line in the rush hour a little less often. Which reminds me - I really am going to suggest a "priority seat" pass to Mayor Boris so that I can discreetly flash it at those sitting in these spaces oblivious to the needs of those around them.

Not a particularly inspiring or interesting post maybe - sorry but was one of those days today. At least I am back into writing here again so more soon!

Linda x

Glimmer of hope...?

This will be a quick update as it's lunchtime during a day working from home. However I just had a reply from Mr Tucker that I thought I should share with you.

As some of you know, a CT scan in the summer suggested one of the screws in my spine is compressing a nerve. As a solution to this Mr T proposed removing the metalwork that should by now be redundant, if, as we hope, my spine has fully fused. (for those joining us now - one of my ribs was used as "glue" to fuse my spine from T3 to L3 after my curvature had been corrected.)

I was nervous about this. Another big operation, recovery time, absence from work. Pain, drugs, depression - not exactly a glass half full sort of outlook I confess.

I wrote and asked Mr Tucker if perhaps he might just remove the offending screw and this is something that he is willing to consider. Next step I think is to talk to him about the pros and cons, how long it would take, and the likelihood of this easing the constant burning pain.

For those of you wondering what the picture is of, or for those of you wondering what these "screws" look like - the illustration shows what is going on in my spine just now. There are fourteen of those beautiful shiny screws along with the two rods - surely I won't miss just the one?!

Back to work now

Linda x

Things can only get better

I've been reading a few other blogs recently. It seems I wasn't the only person to come up with the idea that writing about my experience of major surgery or illness would be a "good idea". I'm still not sure who it is "good" for of course - as I remember saying some many months ago I often didn't find it helpful or useful to write during those long dark days post-op. I forced myself to because I had committed to keeping a record - to help others going through the same thing, to keep friends and family informed with what was going on, and eventually, one day, so that I could read it back and find out for myself what I went through since there is so much I cannot remember.

Reading a post just now from someone currently in remission from cancer I have tears in my eyes. This guy writes so movingly and expresses things in such a way that you cannot help but be moved. But perhaps surprisingly to some of you reading this, it is as he describes his feelings as he reaches the five year mark that I most identified with. Rather than the elation and reaching for the champagne he speaks of wanting to curl up under the duvet and cry. He says that every time he felt he had come to understand what he had been through he found himself crying in the supermarket the next day.

This is something I totally understand and cannot explain so I am not going to try to. I just want to flag it up as I am sure that many people find it odd not to be dancing in the aisles at this point (metaphorically if not actually of course...)

For the past few months, since Mr Tucker advised that removing the metalwork in my spine was in his view the way forward, I have been, to quote myself, "ignoring my back". I've deliberately avoided the question when people have asked about it, for some time I refused even to take painkillers as they reminded me that there was something wrong. I've kept on keeping on, doing all the things I wanted to do, and thought that was the way forward and the way to cope. I decided pretty soon after that last appointment that another major operation was not the way I wanted to go, and putting it all behind me and acting as if all is well was the way to go.

But this week has been hideous. Words cannot describe how painful my back is at the moment - almost two years since the surgery now. Or how fed up I am with the way it has affected my life. On Monday we went to see a superstar friend of ours make her West End debut - a wonderful, amazing, uplifting evening! Except I could barely raise a smile for the pain and sense of detachment from all that was going on around me, as if I was in a horrid bubble of aloneness and pain that no one could understand or penetrate. Imagine sitting in the best seats in the house for a top class show and actually wanting to be in bed with a hot water bottle.

Tuesday wasn't much better - I cried on the tube, in Boots (as I bought yet another set of make up to disguise the blotchiness), and twice in the office when people asked "are you okay?" Wednesday I couldn't get out of bed for the dizziness and vomiting - caused simply by the searing red hot pain in my spine. This weekend I've had to cancel all my plans, drinks out with the girls, a concert in Croxley last night, and any hope of a trip to the shops or decent tidy up.

What a miserable, negative, self-absorved, indulgent post! Wondering if now is the time to hit the delete button? Or maybe I leave this sitting here as a reminder when things are better that this is not a smooth journey - there are ups and downs and as they said in 1997 "Things can only get better".

I'm going to go to church I think. For a number of reasons, none connected with expecting a miracle. I know the woman who will be preaching this morning and I am interested to hear what she has to say. The walk might do me good and will get me off the sofa.

Those writing the other blogs have journeyed with cancer, cystic fibrosis, a stroke. I am truly thankful that theirs has not been the path I've had to take. It is true that there is always someone worse off than ourselves and only this week I've been writing material for work that reminds us of the terrible situation in East Africa. It's not always easy to keep a sense of perspective but it does seem to be easier once the pain and hideousness of it all is out there rather than bottled up and whirling round in your head.

So thanks to those who have read this and hopefully normal cheerful service will be resumed shortly - have an idea for a short story - even a novel maybe - that I might start to explore on here.

Have a good day,

Linda x

Things going swimmingly...

Not been on here for a while - busy busy busy, away in The Toon, and feeling generally uninspired as to what to write about. Not sure I'll put that on my CV when it comes to my aspirations to best selling author-dom, but hey it's true!

My last post inspired quite a few comments - thanks to those who posted on here, on Facebook, or sent me an email. I really enjoy the feedback so please don't be shy. And don't be guilty either - I definitely wasn't saying that electronic communication is bad, or even a poor substitute for the face to face kind. It's an added extra that many of us are grateful for and couldn't imagine being without nowadays.

My post was prompted by and more concerned with the mystery of not always knowing when you are seeing someone for the last time, and how so often it is times of sadness that force us to renew contact. Family funerals are the obvious example - all those aunts and uncles, distant cousins, and promises to meet up again "another time, let's not leave it so long..."

I was pondering this on the tube today - as you do - when I found myself glancing over someone's shoulder at an ad in Metro. If I'm honest I can't quite remember what the ad was for - but I do clearly remember it showed a group of swimmers. Swimming in lanes in a swimming pool. A whole load of thoughts crowded into my brain and I missed Waterloo Station in the rush to find a pen and make some notes. Fortunately I was getting off at Southwark today ;-)

So what profound offering do I have to share? It goes something like this...

Before my surgery I used to swim. Proper swim - like 50 lengths at a time, a couple of times a week at one point, swimming swimathons, raising loads of money, keeping fit and loving it.

Except it could be quite lonely at times - and the picture in the metro brought back memories of hacking up and down the lanes, counting strokes, lengths, fit guys (ahem...), to pass the time till the hot shower. I took stroke improvement lessons, learnt to breathe properly, bought goggles, a swim hat, speedo swimsuit - things got pretty serious.

How different it was from my experience of swimming as a child and young person. Back in the day you'd jump in without noticing the chill, splash around with your friends, pick up tips from others who could swim better and learn to breathe from being dunked. I learned to dive by copying someone who knew how to do it, as we whiled away many a happy afternoon in the pool, not in the least bit bothered by the time or the cold or promises of hot chocolate.

Crazy how comparisons can hit you at times - maybe it's me that's crazy but if so I blame my brain. Whatever it is I was suddenly struck by how for me this sums up a lot of life today. Many of us are oh so busy ploughing our lonesome furrow, counting the hours, days, weeks till the next treat be it the weekend, a holiday or just an evening out. If we need to learn a new skill or how to do things better we seek out professional advice, take lessons, search online. Google is our friend.

Sure this makes us efficient. We use time well, multi-task, upskill. But what do we lose in the process? The joy of living in the moment maybe? Learning from friends who've been there, done that. Messing around, having fun, enjoying a laugh.

Of course we do still learn from friends - we have mentoring schemes. We live in the present - after we've been on a course or attended a seminar on how to. We mess around and enjoy a laugh - the comedy night or drinks in the pub are in the diary (but if we're honest maybe we're going 'cos we feel we ought to - actually we're so tired an evening on the sofa in front of reality TV is way too tempting).

Yesterday - even before I saw that advert and thought about all of this - I was on the brink of closing down all my social networking accounts and taking a hammer to my hard drive. The frustration of email "outage", the news that even when I am logged out Facebook's cookies are tracking my every move, the annoyance you feel when you need something from someone and they don't respond. A whole new power game - or shift - that never existed in the days when we splashed around with our colleagues in the typing pool.

I can pretty much guarantee some of you reading this reckon I am a dinosaur. But I'm not sure that matters to me any more. Perhaps that comes with being sufficiently aware of the benefits and pitfalls of SNS to see them like any other tool - useful but dispensable. We proved that last week and frustrating as it was we got by - even talked to each other ;-)

There are evenings when I sit and check my email, Facebook account(s), Twitter, Google Plus and texts. I don't always have time to reply to - or even read - all the messages. I'm engaged and entertained to a certain extent but often miss that programme I meant to watch, don't get around to that job I meant to do, that call I meant to make. Or I find myself going to bed wishing I'd read another chapter of the book I am currently enjoying. Sometimes I can't sleep - my brain won't switch off and it's impossible to relax. I never felt like that when I'd spent an evening at the pool. Even if I had swum my 50 lengths on my own.

Whilst I've been writing this TweetDeck has alerted me to perhaps 80 new messages. Each one of them interesting, valuable. A communication from someone known to me whose opinion I value. I've also had several emails and carried on a text communication with my mum! I've not checked Facebook but can pretty much guarantee there will be a dozen status updates since I last logged on! I don't know what to say to that - it just feels like communication overload.

This post has been too long and there is more to say but time to leave it for tonight - need to switch off and get back to Jane Eyre ;-)