The clock’s steady tick-tock was the only sound breaking the sterile silence of Dr. Bederman’s office. The bustling world of my professional life had become a distant memory, replaced by a relentless battle against chronic pain. Each dawn brought fresh waves of agony, and every dusk left me in the same unyielding grip of suffering. The questions swirled endlessly in my mind: Why me? How could I find relief from this relentless torment?

Gone were the days of independence I once cherished. Now, I depended on those who could navigate the labyrinth of my condition.

I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis at 55, an autoimmune disease-causing inflammation and pain in the joints. Initially, the pain was manageable, but over time, it intensified. Dr. Christine Thai, a knowledgeable doctor in Huntington Beach, adjusted my medications frequently as my condition resisted treatment. What started as tablets eventually led to self-administered injections.

Life didn’t pause with the diagnosis; it continued to throw new challenges my way. The revelation of degenerative disc disease (DDD) added another layer of complexity to my deteriorating health.

Dr. Sam Bederman, with his calm authority and meticulous explanations, became my beacon of hope. His reputation as a top spine surgeon preceded him, and I clung to the belief that he could offer the answers I desperately sought.

The diagnosis hit me like a freight train: DDD compounded by scoliosis on my right side. The X-rays and MRI images starkly displayed the silent betrayal of my own body. The natural wear and tear of spinal discs, exacerbated by spinal misalignment, painted a grim picture. It wasn’t a sudden injury but the relentless march of time, silently eroding my body from within.

My thoughts turned inward, seeking understanding. As a researcher at heart, this passion

 

became my lifeline. Immersing myself in articles and videos, I sought to grasp the intricacies of fusion surgery and scoliosis correction. My husband, with his medical background, provided a supportive yet detached presence, his clinical detachment a strange comfort amidst the emotional turmoil.

The decision to proceed with surgery was not made lightly. After extensive consultations with five neurosurgeons and spinal surgeons, it became clear that surgery was my last resort. I had exhausted every other modality to manage the pain, but nothing brought

lasting relief.

Living with an invisible illness added another layer of isolation to my struggle. My condition was not visibly apparent, often leading to a lack of understanding and empathy from others. Despite this, I found solace in Dr. Bederman’s care. His warm smile and encouraging demeanor during our appointments gave me the strength to face the uncertainties ahead.

Following my first surgery, my daughter gifted me a T-shirt that read, “I survived spinal fusion surgery, I’m all screwed up.” It was a humorous acknowledgment of my journey, a small token of resilience in the face of adversity. Dr. Bederman appreciated the gesture, and we even took pictures together—moments of levity amidst the gravity of my condition.

Yet, the surgery was not a panacea. The post-operative pain persisted, a constant reminder that this battle was far from over. Life continued to throw new challenges my way.

In quiet moments, I considered alternative treatments, including Ayurvedic practices in India. Proponents spoke of physical, emotional, and spiritual rejuvenation. However, after consulting with my medical team, the lack of empirical evidence supporting Ayurveda’s efficacy for my specific conditions gave me pause. I chose to focus on treatments backed by rigorous medical research and expert consensus.