Today I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Edward Peterson. He has undergone a Nuss procedure and corrected his pectus excavatum deformity with it.
Ed is just an actual guy that I personally know. Now he is living his sunken chest free life to the fullest.
I haven't seen Edward personally in a while. Recently, I was scrolling on my Instagram account, and he grabbed my attention with his before and after the Nuss procedure picture (see below). I instantly had an idea for this article.
I asked Ed if he doesn't mind answering a few questions. He pleasantly agreed, and I was pleased to share what he had to say.
So, there we have it. I asked the most desirable questions that every single sufferer from pectus excavatum needs to know about.
He explains everything about the Nuss procedure. Pay close attention to every single question, especially the last one. There he summarizes what he learned throughout the entire three-year journey of correcting pectus excavatum.
The chest wall deformity that I had is known as pectus excavatum. Some people call it a sunken or concave chest.
It causes your breastbone (sternum) to curve inward, causing you an indented chest appearance.
I received my diagnosis back in April 2012. During that time, I was a freshman at the local West Springfield High School in Virginia.
I got my diagnose when I went to see a Thoracic medicine specialist at the George Washington University Hospital in Washington, DC.
The congenital deformity caused me to be very uncomfortable with myself. I was anxious about my appearance.
My self-confidence was gone. I was viewing myself through the lenses of other people.
The deformity preoccupied my thoughts, and almost all of them were related to the deformity. I couldn't focus on anything else. I was failing at school, and I had no physical power to compete with my peers during basketball pickup games.
I wasn't bullied by my peers at all. Nobody knew that I had a pectus excavatum chest deformity because I was very uncomfortable taking my shirt off in front of others.
However, I had honest conversations about the deformity with my peers and friends. They all said that it wasn't a big deal and that I focus on that too much.
Mostly, I experienced psychological symptoms about the deformity. I was depressed and lost all my self-confidence during that time.
I had enough. Mostly because I couldn't compete with my friends during basketball games, even though I had a better skillset than them. I decided to find a solution for my pectus excavatum deformity and regain my lost physical capacities.
I discovered them on my own. I went online and typed in "how to fix pectus excavatum." I found out many resources that could help me repair the deformity.
Back in 2012, there weren't any resources on how to fix the deformity non-surgically. The only way I could correct my indented chest condition was through a pectus excavatum surgery.
My Haller index was 2.4. The severity of my condition was mild.
If your site (Pectus Excavatum Fix) was live in 2012, I would consider the non-surgical treatment solution that you write about.
I am 100% sure that I could fix my deformity through physical exercises, braces, yoga stretches, deep breathing, and vacuum bell therapy. However, back in the days, I couldn't find any information about it, so I underwent a Nuss procedure.
It involved inserting a titanium bar in my chest, to push out the breastbone that was caved in because of my pectus excavatum.
I was asleep during the operation. I didn't experience any pain. However, the post-operative pain was too extreme. I had to take pain medications on an hourly basis.
It was the most painful experience in my lifetime. I had to stay in hospital for ten days.
Throughout the summer heading into my sophomore year, I felt very self-confident and fearless.
I was completely prepared to handle the pectus excavatum surgery. I chewed the bullet and marched forward with my existence.
To repair a chest flaw, I was going through an invasive treatment where step one required removal of disobedient, dysfunctional cartilage from my inverted chest.
If the surgery were a success and went flawlessly, I would have six broken ribs, a lacking chunk of cartilage and three drainage tubes piercing my tummy. Most importantly, I'd have a beautiful 6 cm stainless steel rod rooted semi-firmly underneath my sternum.
Shortly after my chest's event with the scalpel, I stayed on the medical center bed.
I was lying stiffly on my backside, for ten long days.
I felt immense pain when: standing up, turning and twisting, elevating my arms over my head, ingesting food too swiftly, using muscles in the upper body, or sitting up.
I didn't go for more than three hours during the entire week in peace. The physician was always fixating a brand-new monitor on me, modifying my tubes, and questioning how I felt.
The pectus excavatum surgery left me weakened and immobile.
I didn't go to my sophomore year orientation week.
Throughout orientation week, Mr. Smith, who was handling the student body, revealed to the students that I shouldn't be roughhoused with, pushed around, or even touched.
He explained that it would dislocate the bar in my chest, causing me injury that'll lead to significant problems in my later life.
He told the students not to touch me simply because I was vulnerable. I breathed gently, ate slowly and gradually, climbed the stairways very carefully, lifted absolutely nothing heavier than a textbook, and observed anybody that might harm me. On top of that, I slept motionlessly on my backside with my arms set at my side.
To this day, I'm very thankful for Mr. Smith's statement. Luckily, no harm was done to my post-operative chest during the whole sophomore year.
I came back to my high school feeling sensitive, in soreness, and alive.
A lot of stares, many concerns, and warming sighs of relief welcomed me back.
Everyone asked what happened and why I required a pectus excavatum surgery.
They all acted very carefully in my presence.
My friends were cracking jokes about the stainless-steel rod, calling it "Rodney." I was smiling and laughing, which was great for me psychologically.
My friends made me feel alive again.
They all begged to see the overwhelming scar. They gave me relief on how terrible it must've been to abstain from taking part in sports.
Some of them wondered who in their reasonable mind would drag a wheeled backpack in high school.
Adjusting to this brand new, exciting, and humbling existence was not simple. Living with a physical barrier, not taking the verbal jabs at my health personally and the dependency on my buddies, educators, and family members required some getting used to.
The 12 months of restriction and dependency significantly impacted my personality.
Where would I have been without having those who I depended on? — My mom and dad, who guaranteed my safety.
My sister, who brought me food and drinks throughout the times I laid motionless in bed. The physicians and pectus excavatum surgeons, who worked inexhaustibly to repair my pectus excavatum body and relieve my soreness.
Mr. Smith that made high school safe for me, and my buddies, who held backside from tackling me.
My existence was in possession of those surrounding me. If any person decided to ignore the severity of my condition, might have injured me severely.
Instead, my community took care of me and kept me safe. I am forever grateful for that.
Living with the metal bar in my chest trained me humility. I continuously thanked those who ensured my safety during high school. I consistently had to explain the story of my pectus excavatum surgery to those who didn't know. I couldn't even carry a backpack. I couldn't hug my buddies.
Most importantly, I was so weak physically, that a nine months old baby would take me down in a fight. All of that trained me humility.
I figured out that humbleness is everything.
Going through hard times develops calluses on our personality. Getting through black times, we learn to succeed and go through life with our head still on our shoulders.
After living with the pectus excavatum bar underneath my sternum for three years, I have the confidence to do anything I desire. I feel so much confidence that I am doing things I would never have perceived myself doing.
So, there you have it, fellow concave chest fighters.
Edward is a living proof that nothing can stop you from pectus excavatum correction.
As he said, fearlessness is the only determining factor between success and failure. Ever since he lost the fear of pain, he made significant decisions about his body appearance.
However, if he knew that there was a scientifically proven non-surgical approach to correcting his deformity, he would've chosen that path.
Undergoing a Nuss procedure takes a lot of courage that many sufferers lack. The fear is what makes their bodies unappealing, and their mental states weak and fragile.
I told you to pay special attention to the last answer. Edward explained well that humility is everything. That's the state of mind that each of us needs to have. That's how the world becomes a better place.
Learn to love yourself and appreciate your flaws. As corny as it sounds, it is the key ingredient to living a good life. If you hate yourself because of your pectus excavatum condition, other people will do too, and vice versa.
Never live in fear. Let Edward's story motivate you to take the pectus excavatum surgery for adults or start following the non-surgical physical treatment. Don't hesitate. Fear is the only thing that is holding you back. Learn to pierce through the fear. On the other side, you'll see that isn't as bad as you've thought it is.
Don't let your funnel chest deformity determine how you'll live the rest of your life.