In 1967, I began what was to become a 31-year doctor/patient relationship. I was the patient and my doctor was Thomas G. Lowe, MD. I was then a 16-year-old girl who had severe scoliosis.
Denver’s Children’s Hospital was at that time a forbidding place. First of all, I vehemently disliked that I had to go to a children’s hospital. It was the “Summer of Love” and my life was just beginning. But there I was embarking on what would be the first of many hospital stays.
I was encased in a huge body cast and sent home for two months. Then, I was fitted with a Milwaukee brace which, as the theory went, was supposed to stop the continuation of the spinal curvature. Didn’t happen.
In 1972, Dr. Lowe straightened most of my upper spine, which had curved to over 100 degrees, and inserted a Herrington rod to keep it that way. I endured nine months in a succession of two body casts.
All those pounds of plaster pushed on my body unmercifully and Dr. Lowe always was able to rectify those “hot spots.” But in the end, it was futile: as soon as one spot stopped hurting, another spot quickly took its place.
In 1979, my lower back rebelled and it also needed a fusion. Once again, Dr. Lowe came to the rescue and fused it, too, with another Herrington rod.
This time, medical science had advanced such that I didn’t need an extensive body cast. But I had one which resembled armor from the Middle Ages. I assure you that I played up those six months in that cast to the hilt.
Time went by and I saw Dr. Lowe often. Then came 1998, and complications. Once again I became his patient at Lutheran Hospital but this time I was in so I could be ready for the new Millennium: replacing a stainless steel rod with a titanium rod. I also had other procedures which helped ease pain.
All went well until two years ago when I was having some trouble with my neck. I went down to see Dr. Lowe and we reminisced and then he sent me to get an MRI. It showed several things and I began physical therapy.
I took up swimming and exercise and felt great. I told several friends, one of whom also had scoliosis, about how wonderful my doctor was. I was grateful for all that I had been given. I referred my friend to him which was quite the leap of faith for her.
Eventually she, too, decided to have the surgery that saved my life and could do wonders for hers. Then the unthinkable happened: Dr. Lowe was diagnosed with cancer and only a few months later, succumbed. One’s doctor isn’t supposed to die.
What do you do when your doctor dies? Later, I went to a pain specialist here in Fort Collins and was amazed at what he could do. He put me on medication that was not harmful and did wonders. For the first time in 30 years, I was completely pain-free.
What do you do when your second doctor dies? Dr. Thomas Boylan perished in a hot-air balloon accident a few months ago. Even though I had only seen him a few times, he had made such an impact on my life. He listened, he understood and he took all the time possible to make sure that my pain needs were met.
At this point, I have no back doctor. It’s not that one doesn’t exist, but I feel that I have been given a lifetime’s worth of care and it is up to me to keep myself up. I know my own body well; I know how not to carry the laundry basket.
But I also know that there were two men in my life who, using their medical training and adding in a healthy dose of humanity, made my life into something quite normal. That is, a life that faces most of the same, regular challenges as any other life does.
Darlene Mueller Morse lives in Fort Collins.
