
03/06/2024
The event is literally written into my skin. It’s there in the bruises, sutures, and incision scars. It’s there in reports I read on patient portals, sometimes even before the doctors do.
Being hit by a car is a single moment in time, but the repercussions come in waves. Some of them are known very quickly, like the neurosurgery needed to stabilize my spine. Others can show up later, like the spinal cord injury I was diagnosed with weeks later called subacute post-traumatic ascending myelopathy, also known by its hilarious acronym - SPAM.
I first heard about SPAM five days, four MRIs, loads of blood tests, and a lumbar puncture after being readmitted to hospital. The name was in the consult report from the neuroradiologist enlisted to figure out what was going on. Along with a likely diagnosis, was a PMID. Immediately I pulled up the report. It was a literature review with less than 40 cases. I didn’t make it past the abstract. The conclusion was too bleak - “There is no effective therapy... The prognosis of SPAM is poor… The mortality rate is approximately 10%.”
I dropped my phone and started bawling. I don’t know what I had expected but it wasn’t this. It took a lot of hugs and rest before I could read the rest of the article, which I knew I need to do I so I’d have coherent and educated questions for my neurology team the next morning during rounds.
Weeks later, now safely back at home and in recovery, SPAM and that literature review have forever left their mark. Both are literally written into my skin.
ID: photo of the author’s back, showing eight incisions, four on either side of the spine. Overlaid on top is a PDF of the article titled “Subacute post traumatic ascending myopathy: a literature review” PMID: 27995944.