Being diagnosed with scoliosis

When I was 15 years old I was diagnosed with idiopathic scoliosis. A shock for anyone but for me an absolute blow. It not only had consequences for my day-to-day life but also for my chosen career. Yes, at 15 I knew actually what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, I’d known since I was 8. I was going to be a ballerina. I know this is the dream cherished by most little girls but I was blessed with a real talent and an inexhaustible passion for dance.

I endured the gruelling process of auditioning for the top ballet and theatre art schools and witnessed first-hand the highest degree of pushy-parent-syndrome. After a harsh pep talk 10 year old girls with fear of failure in their eyes were shoved into the auditions, their parents “this is your LAST CHANCE” ringing in their ears. For me, it was meals at Bella Pasta, practising in the small hotel room and eating Thorntons chocs snuggled up in bed before an early night; looking back I now realise just how rare and charming this is. It was all an adventure that I myself had chosen to be on and my parents were there, as they always have been, telling me “just do your best, we love you.” Despite getting through to the final audition stage for White Lodge I did not receive a place – and I will never forget that, my first taste of failure. I did however gain one of the 11 places for Year 7 students at Elmhurst School for Dance. I spent 5 years at Elmhurst and my memories of it are certainly bitter-sweet.

Attending a school like Elmhurst, a boarding school, but not your average boarding school, not a ‘normal’ school, is an experience I will never regret. The opportunities were incredible; I was chosen to tour with the English National Ballet’s new production of the Nutcracker dancing in Bristol, Manchester, Southampton and London at the London Coliseum. All before I was 16 years old.

When school uniform is a leotard, studio walls are lined with mirrors and long finger-nailed teachers prod and poke every inch of your posture, my scoliosis was detected very early on. Only 11 degrees and some pain which the physio said was just growing pain; it was nothing to really worry about. I was even told that a dancer in the Birmingham Royal Ballet Company had a curve of the same degree.

I was not to be so lucky.

With the schools own physio and having Bupa private health care (another perk of being registered at the school) you might think that my treatment would have been smooth and caring. Unfortunately I only have bitter memories of both.

The physio told me it was my fault the curve was worsening and that I was making up the pain.

I could barely hold my left arm above my head let alone complete a whole ballet class.

I was put ‘off dance’ by the Sister to try to reduce the pain and eventually I had to accept that this would be permanent. This perfectly coincided with all my friends preparing and auditioning for sixth forms at all the top dance and theatre arts establishments. It was hell and I wasn’t allowed to get away from it. I was made to sit through every single dance class, taking notes and could be called upon by the teacher at any moment to repeat what she’d said or give a friend a correction. I never confided in any of my class mates how hard I found this and will always bare a scar from when one called me a ‘quitter.’ It was never an easy environment to grow up in but before I had always shared the experience with others. For this I was completely on my own. I felt I’d failed and I’ve never cried so much on my own at any other point of my journey with scoliosis. It was awful, I do still feel cheated and my slight vendetta against all of you who have perfectly formed and functioning spines will never go away. Do you realise how lucky you are?

Bupa refused to continue my health cover when I left Elmhurst as it seems that when you might actually need them, they turn you away. Even to this day I grimace at the Bupa care adverts promising the world when in reality if you bare a medical condition which may need help Bupa ‘health care’ do not, well, ‘care’.

But with that I became an NHS patient and that is what my blogs will cover. This is about me, my scoliosis and the NHS.