Unsung Hero…
Dr VKV Prasad

Yesterday in the OT, just as I was about to harvest a bone graft, a squeaky voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Ah, Doctor! I’m the Iliac crest, you’re Back again with your Mallet and chisel? No greetings, no pleasantries, straight to mining,
as always!”
I blinked, Was it the iliac crest talking to me? Gathering my wits, I replied, “Hey, hi! You do make the best grafts, strong, reliable, and always in stock.”

Iliac Crest replied derisively, “Flattery noted. But before you carve away, let’s talk. I’m tired of the femur and spine stealing all the limelight while I go unappreciated. It’s time people knew my worth and you’re the one to take it to them!”
And so, while I worked, it droned on. I listened, partly amused, partly guilty. Here’s our conversation ( let’s be honest, it was a monologue, I was too tongue-tied to argue).

Ah, finally, I’ll get some recognition through my Sympathetic Surgeon. I am the smooth, curvy ridge at the top of your pelvis. You might not think about me much, but I make your waist look good in Saree or jeans, your movements smooth, and your doctors’ jobs easier.

I am the peek of peaks, as important as Mount Everest and as revered as Mount Kailash. I make things happen!
I undergo reincarnation, starting as cartilage before maturing into solid bone by the late teens or early twenties. Yes, that means i’m more mature than some adults who still argue about pizza toppings!! And even after that, I live on, When surgeons harvest my bone, I don’t complain, I simply regrow at the donor site, while the graft I give reincarnates again, becoming solid bone wherever it’s needed. Divine, isn’t it?

I protect internal structures, help medical students find their way around the pelvis, predict diseases through biopsy of my core, and even assist forensic experts in estimating age, because sometimes, bones tell the truth better than birth certificates!

Orthopedic surgeons treat me like an Amazon warehouse, need a bone graft? They take a small piece or sometimes mine me like the Kohinoor diamond, chiseling out tri-cortical grafts too!.

Anaesthetists love me too, I’m their trusted GPS marker, helping them find L4-L5 for regional anaesthesia.
Obstetricians use me to assess whether a baby’s head can pass through, so even newborns owe me one!

Ever seen people rest their hands on their hips when exhausted? That’s me, your built-in bony shelf! Whether you’re catching your breath, expressing frustration, or striking a pose of authority, I’m right there, your natural hand rest. And let’s not forget “Bony Wallet Syndrome”sit too long on a hard surface, with a wallet in your back pocket and if you’re thin and bony, you’ll feel me nagging you. It’s my way of saying, “Get up and move, lazy bum!”

I don’t work alone though, I’ve an attachment to elite squad of muscles , which keep you upright, balanced, and mobile.
The obliques help you twist, whether grabbing something from the backseat or hitting a six in cricket.
The transversus abdominis keeps your spine stable, and helps you suck in your belly when bright young things are around or when you’re being photographed.
The latissimus dorsi powers your pull-ups, swimming strokes, and that victorious ‘arms up’ pose after a win.
The quadratus lumborum lets you side-bend, carry a heavy bag on one shoulder, and even sigh dramatically when you realize that there’re no patients in your OP.

Finally I find myself at the center of the latest medical fad, stem cell harvesting. Suddenly, I’m being poked and prodded for my bone marrow, with my stem cells being paraded around as the miracle cure for everything from arthritis to hair loss and what not.
Every specialist and Super- specialist worth his salt, except maybe Forensic, swears by my regenerative powers.
Am I honored? Sure. But I can’t help but wonder, will this new fame finally get me the credit I deserve, or am I just the latest gold rush for enthusiastic researchers?
So guys, the next time you twist, bend, or climb stairs without falling over, take a moment to thank me, the iliac crest.
I am the unsung hero of your movements, the silent supporter of your posture, and the most generous bone in your body.
And if you ever feel me sore after surgery or a biopsy, remember, “You took from me, but I gave willingly.”