Written by Paul Andrews

Introduction

Scoliosis is often described in clinical terms: a sideways curvature of the spine, measured in degrees, monitored for progression, and treated depending on severity. But behind every set of X-rays lies a human story. Research into scoliosis benefits not only from scientific study but also from the voices of patients who live through its physical, emotional, and social impacts.

My own journey has been one of late diagnosis, long periods without medical follow-up, worsening pain, and eventually major surgery. By sharing my experience, I hope to shed light on the challenges patients face — and the importance of timely monitoring, effective pain management, supportive recovery, and ongoing research.

Diagnosis: An Accidental Discovery

I was first diagnosed with scoliosis at 21 or 22 — though the condition had almost certainly been present for years. The discovery came by chance, after I broke two ribs in a cycling accident and was sent for an X-ray. That was when the spinal curvature first appeared.

Looking back, it explained a lot. In my late teens and early twenties, I often felt pain in my lower back and hips. I dismissed it as “normal aches” from sport and daily life. To be told my spine was curved made sense, but it didn’t seem to be taken seriously. After that initial diagnosis, I received no follow-up, no referral, no treatment plan. For most of my twenties, scoliosis was just a note in my medical record.

Early Impact: Living with Pain

Through my twenties, the pain never disappeared. It came in waves — sometimes manageable, sometimes debilitating. My hips and lower back were constant sources of discomfort. By the time I was 30, the pain was impossible to ignore, and I sought further medical advice.

This time, the X-rays revealed significant progression: a lumbar curve of about 45 degrees and a thoracic curve of 50 degrees. Suddenly, my pain had a number attached — and it was clear this was more than just “everyday aches.”

Trying Conservative Treatments

Before considering surgery, I tried a range of non-surgical treatments. Physiotherapy helped with flexibility and strength, but the pain always returned. Chiropractic care gave short-term relief, but not lasting results.

At one point, I underwent rhizolysis — a procedure where nerves are severed to block pain signals. It worked for a few months, then wore off. Meanwhile, my X-rays showed the scoliosis was still progressing. Conservative management could ease symptoms, but it could not stop the curve.

Approaching the Threshold for Surgery

By 2023, my curves had passed the threshold where surgery was considered. Both lumbar and thoracic curves measured between 60 and 70 degrees. The pain was constant, my mobility was limited, and it was clear that surgery was the only realistic option.

The decision to undergo spinal fusion is never taken lightly. It is one of the most complex procedures in orthopaedics. But after years of worsening pain and declining function, I felt I had no choice but to go ahead.

Surgery and Immediate Recovery

In April 2024, I underwent two-stage corrective surgery. The first operation fused my spine from T11 to L3. Shortly afterwards, I had a second surgery to insert a cage to de-rotate my spine, which had twisted as the curves worsened.

The operations were intense. I spent a week in intensive care, followed by another week on the ward before being discharged home. I knew recovery would be difficult, but nothing could prepare me for those first weeks.

Complications and Setbacks

At home, I struggled even to sit for long. After two weeks, I began to feel unwell without clear symptoms. Back in hospital, scans revealed a collapsed lung, pleural effusion, and pneumonia. I spent ten days admitted to stabilise and recover.

It was frightening — to have just endured major surgery, only for my lungs to fail me without warning. This setback made the already demanding rehabilitation process even harder.

Rehabilitation: Slowly Rebuilding Strength

Physiotherapy became essential. In the first three months, sitting upright was a challenge. Progress felt painfully slow, but small steps added up. Gradually, I regained mobility, strength, and confidence.

I was fortunate to have strong support at home. My wife, a nurse, played an invaluable role in my recovery. From managing medications to encouraging mobility, her knowledge and care gave me both practical help and emotional reassurance. Recovering from major spinal surgery is not something anyone should face alone.

Living with a Fused Spine

Adjusting to life with a fused spine has been ongoing. The curves have stopped progressing, and I stand straighter than before. But there are new realities: less flexibility, restricted movements, and a different kind of pain.

Scoliosis and its treatment have reshaped my work, hobbies, and family life. I’ve taken long-term sick leave from my career in aerospace composites. Physical hobbies are harder, though swimming has become a lifeline. As a parent, the hardest part is accepting my limits when I want to be active with my child.

Reflections: The Importance of Support and Research

Looking back, I often wonder how things might have been different had my scoliosis been monitored more closely from the start. Early intervention, better follow-up, or more consistent non-surgical management might have slowed progression. Too often, adult scoliosis is overlooked until it becomes severe.

I’ve also learned the value of support. Surgery and recovery are not just physical battles; they take a mental and emotional toll. Having people around you who understand, encourage, and advocate for you makes all the difference.

And that’s why research matters. Advances in screening, treatment, surgical techniques, and recovery protocols have the power to transform patient outcomes. Just as important are studies into lived experiences — because scoliosis is not just a spinal condition. It shapes mental health, relationships, careers, and identity.

Conclusion

My scoliosis journey has taken me from a chance discovery in my twenties to life-changing surgery in my late thirties. It has been a path of pain, uncertainty, resilience, and adaptation.

For those living with scoliosis today, my message is this: you are not alone. The journey is hard, but progress is possible — and research continues to open new doors for treatment and support. For clinicians, researchers, and policymakers, I hope my story adds weight to the importance of early monitoring, comprehensive pain management, and patient-centred care.