The Blueprint: What Rebuilding this Spine Actually Looks Like

Still Moving: The Road to Fusion and Freedom

Whenever I mention that I am having “back surgery,” I can feel people trying to fit it into a box they recognize. Back surgeries run the gambit: a small incision, a quick outpatient procedure to trim a bulging disc, a fusion and the list goes on and on. Some back surgeries might have you up and walking out of the hospital with a couple of band-aids that afternoon.

As a matter of fact, I wish my story had ended with all of my conservative care working -chiropractic, massage, spinal decompression, dry needling, physical therapy, red light therapy, acupuncture, e-stim, and the list goes on and on. Not to forget, of course, yoga, so much yoga, along with a clean, healthy diet and an intentional lifestyle. But none of those treatments stood a fighting chance against what was actually happening deep inside my body.

What Dr. Allison is undertaking at Porter Hospital on September 23 and 24 is not a repair. It is a massive, two-day architectural overhaul of my entire central pillar.

What is actually going on inside my back is explained best by picturing a house whose central support beam has buckled, slipped, and collapsed. When a structure fails that fundamentally, you cannot just patch the drywall. You have to lift the house, install a new foundation, and build scaffolding from the bottom up to make sure it never collapses again.

That is why this requires two separate surgeries over two long days.

Day One: Wednesday, September 23 – The Foundation from the Front

The first surgery is an ALIF (Anterior Lumbar Interbody Fusion). “Anterior” simply means the surgical team goes in through my abdomen. Approaching from the front gives Dr. Allison a direct, wide-open path to the collapsed disc spaces of my lower back.

Across three critical levels, from the third lumbar vertebra down to my sacrum (L3–S1), the degenerated, worn-out discs will be carved away entirely. In their place, he will insert structural spacers, known as cages, packed with bone graft. These cages act like heavy hydraulic jacks. They pry open the collapsed spaces, restore the natural height between the vertebrae, lift the bone off the compressed nerves, and restore the natural inward curve of my lower spine.

During this first long day, they will also use a system called a Cell Saver. It collects, cleans, and recycles my own blood throughout the operation to return it directly back into my veins, reducing the need for outside blood transfusions.

When Day One finishes, my foundation will be back in place, but the house isn’t secure yet.

Day Two: Thursday, September 24 – The Scaffolding from the Back

The following morning, I will be back under general anesthesia for the long posterior rebuild. This is a T10–S2AI posterolateral spinal fusion, which means the incision runs down the back of my spine from the mid-back (Thoracic 10, roughly level with the bottom of my shoulder blades) all the way down into my pelvis.

Here, Dr. Allison will construct the exterior scaffolding. Using an array of heavy titanium screws and two rigid rods, he will lock that entire multi-level span of bone into perfect alignment. At the base, he will drive specialized anchor screws directly into the dense bone of my pelvis (the S2-alar-iliac). Anchoring to my pelvis ensures that the massive mechanical forces of walking, sitting, and moving don’t snap the hardware while the bone heals.

He will also perform a TLIF (Transforaminal Lumbar Interbody Fusion) from this back approach, placing another structural spacer to fuse the transition point securely.

Over the next twelve months, the bone graft packed inside and around all that metal will knit together, turning that entire length of my spine into one solid, unbending column of bone.

It is staggering to look at the clinical sheets and read those codes in black and white. It explains every tear, every sharp wince, and every morning spent sitting on the edge of the mattress unable to put on my own pants. My spine isn’t just hurting; it is mechanically failing.

Knowing what is coming doesn’t necessarily make it easier to swallow, but it gives the mountain a shape. In eleven days, the demolition ends and the reconstruction begins. Despite any fear, I feel the deepest sense of gratitude ever known that this is “fixable.” There was a time, a world in which people like me were left to live with this condition. I cannot imagine. When I do, I stop. And then… again, I feel a great flood of gratitude for what is about to happen.