Becca Ironside

It has been three years since I met Dr. Russel Huang at HSS. On November 16th, 2020, I went to the hospital in Manhattan for the first time. I had been suffering from intense low back pain for a few years. I was and still am a physical therapist who treats low back and pelvic floor conditions. I helped my patients with their chronic pain, while ignoring my own. At the prompting of my primary doctor, I got an MRI of my lower back.

Before meeting with him, I sent a copy of this imaging to Dr. Huang at HSS. A member of his staff called me to say that this physician wanted to meet with me to discuss the findings in the MRI. On the one hand, I was relieved to have a doctor of such renown call me back and want to meet. Yet on the other hand, I knew that I likely needed surgery if I was being asked to see him in person. And nobody wants to have spine surgery.

On the sunny day before I entered HSS, I recall looking out over the East River before I entered the building; I prayed in that moment, and I wasn’t exactly inclined towards prayer at that stage of my life. I asked whatever deity might be listening that I would be given a sign about what to do when I spoke with the doctor; and that I would trust this doctor and like him. Because the lower back is a very personal area, and I didn’t want anyone operating on mine if I didn’t like them as a human being.

It turned out that I liked Dr. Huang instantly. He sat down in front of me with a clipboard. He wore surgical clogs. The sunshine that bounced off the East River lit the room through the windows. “Your MRI is interesting,” he began. “At first, I thought I couldn’t help you. But then I examined your MRI very closely. You have inflammation in the bones of your lowest lumbar vertebra and your sacrum. This condition is so painful.”

A sizable chunk of my personal pride fell to the floor when the doctor said this. I had been lying to myself and my loved ones that my back was fine, that I wasn’t in that much pain. I realized that all those people who loved me and worried about me were right. Lower back pain was ruining my quality of life. But who among us likes to be wrong?

Here was the upside: a complete stranger was sitting across from me and was illustrating why my life had been filled with anxiety in anticipation of pain. My pain was real. When it was there, I could barely move and when it was gone, I waited for its stealthy return. This was being verified by an expert who was honest and open. And he happened to have gone to both Harvard and Yale. So, there’s that.

Looking back, I have to wonder if choosing to have surgery at HSS with Dr. Russel Huang was an answered prayer from that day three years ago when I stood by the East River and asked for help from whomever would listen. I underwent a spinal fusion of L5-S1, and I have never looked back. Not only is my low back pain gone, but my pelvic pain is more manageable because of the newfound stability in my spine in the form of screws, rods, and a spacer. Because I don’t have pain anymore, I am able to help more people address why they feel the way I did three years ago, before my surgery. I can be their Dr. Huang for a minute (though I have attended neither Harvard nor Yale). I can help those in severe pain feel sane and listened to.

There is a feeling of medical safety and protection upon entering HSS. There’s history, reputation, and profound honor in a long legacy of quality healthcare. But more than that, there are these magical human beings who work there. They aren’t just doctors and nurses. They are healers. Dr. Russel Huang is my favorite of the healers. He fixed my spine and I often recall the talks we had in my follow-up visits. Dr. Huang and I spoke at length about how spinal alignment relates to pelvic floor health. We listened to the facets of each other’s professions. My posture has improved after my surgery. I learned how to stand taller, and I now teach my own patients to do the same. I also learned how to stare fear in the face by getting back surgery, knowing that I had the most powerful team on my side of the battlefield. Thank you, Dr. Huang. We won the battle together, and we stand tall and proud in our triumph over pain.