Autumn Equinox, Fused Vertebra & Balance
by Amy Martin
Autumn Equinox, a day for balance. In the human body, 20 to 30% of your balance comes from the exquisite pivot of the C1, or Atlas, cervical vertebra that holds up your skull upon the C2, or Axis, cervical vertebra.
This pivotal rotation allows your head to turn and look over your shoulder. It maintains your interactions with the world in a gyroscopic way by constantly adjusting to keep your visual world level and in balance. See that motion in the very short video below.
After shattering my C2 vertebra in a wreck several years ago, my C1 to C3 were bolted together and bone grafted into one chunk of bone. The following months of physical therapy were a process of vestibular retraining, getting the inner ear to take up the balance slack. I walked with a cane and wore a neck brace if I was somewhere I might fall.
About four months after the wreck, I was in Denton and decided to drop by Clear Creek Natural Heritage Center. I was so excited to be in nature again, I bolted from the car, forgetting my brace and cane. About 30 yards down the trail, the world began to spin. I stumbled and fell on my face. I burst out crying. No, no! Fate was not going to take hiking away from me.
A sobering experience. I thought I’d done pretty good with the vestibular retraining until I went hiking on uneven ground. The inner ear just couldn’t react quickly enough. But the C1-2 gyroscope could have. The depression was swift: Would I ever be able to do real hiking again?
I got back on my feet, covered in mud and staggering like a drunk. Within a mile or so, the uneven surfaces, the slopes, the slippery dirt, essentially retrained my ear’s vestibular system to take up the slack — better than months of physical therapy had.
Over the next hour while hiking, I became aware of how active my entire neck became as I walked. It moved side to side like a hypnotized cobra. My lower cervical vertebrae were picking up the balance slack, doing what C 1 and 2 could no longer do. I didn’t do that consciously. The body’s innate intelligence did that on its own.
Back home, I put away the cane and brace for good.
Before the cervical fusion operation, the lead surgeon and his medical residents came into my hospital room. The doctor explained they were going to bolt the shattered remnants of my C2 like sandwich meat between C1 and C3. Because the C1 and C2 would no longer pivot, I’d never be able to turn my head or look up or down again.
I wanted to cry, but I was too glad to still be alive. A shattered C2, called a Hangman’s Fracture, kills 70% of those who incur it. The rest are paralyzed. Only 2% like me walk away. After the surgeon left, one of the residents lingered in my hospital room and said, “Look, I know it sounds bad. But your other vertebra can learn. The human body is amazing.”
And he was right. On this day when the Earth spinning on its tilted axis finds a moment of balance, I am celebrating the process with it, knowing that we all seek in one way or another the balance I crave.
