A month has passed since my neck surgery (fusion at six levels), and I’m doing great. The incision is less Frankenstein-y every day, and I can even drive. The worst side effect has been with my nerves. Specifically, the tips of the ring and pinky fingers on my left hand have little to no sensation, thus requiring me to look at my hand when I type words like “wax” and “saw.” I can definitely live with that as my biggest limitation.

But despite the clear success of my surgery and the (mostly) consistent improvements as I heal, I found myself bickering with my mom about my future well-being. We were around the Passover table when my brother asked about my prognosis, and my mom piped in with, “Hopefully this will be her last surgery.”

It’s a sweet and reasonable wish for a mom to have, but I found myself arguing with her: “It won’t be, and we have to accept that.”

And that’s true. There is a very high likelihood that I will need more surgeries because I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, which results in undue wear and tear and my joints. So far, at the tender age of 50, I’ve needed two knee........

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