Dr. Scholbach,

It has taken me several months to gain the courage to contact you and share my story with others. I’ve shared my “story” with a private Facebook group for Women with May-Thurner Syndrome. Below is the text to the post I shared, and I’ve attached the photos also shared with the group.

My sincerest thanks to you…

Today, I want to share my story and express my profound gratitude to Dr. Scholbach, who helped guide me out of a seemingly endless midnight tunnel. This is a long story, apologies in advance, but this is my story…and it’s from the opposite side of stenting. The side no one talks about, or maybe just doesn’t know about. Either way, I think it’s important to share.

Like many of you, my life was slipping away because of May-Thurner Syndrome and it had consumed me, forcing me to give up so much of what I loved. I had to leave my nursing career behind because of the constant discomfort and pain in my back and legs. I gave up running because I could no longer walk more than a few thousand steps a day. My mom flew from states away to stay months at a time to help with household needs and childcare. And what I struggled with the most…I couldn’t be the mom and wife I wanted. I couldn’t go on field trips, cheer at sporting events, or even play outside with my kids. May-Thurner Syndrome had taken over my life.

When I was diagnosed, I was terrified to learn that I would need four permanent stents placed in my iliac veins due to bilateral MTS. This diagnosis explained so much: the debilitating leg pain, neuropathy, back pain, numbness, relentless muscle twitching from the waist down, and even digestive and urinary issues. But the idea of having permanent foreign bodies implanted in a body already battling autoimmune issues and metal allergies didn’t sit well with me. At the same time, I didn’t know how much longer I could endure living in a body that felt like it was failing me.

As a nurse, I’ve been trained to research—to dig deeper and find answers. But as I sifted through peer-reviewed articles, I couldn’t find much beyond the standard information about May-Thurner Syndrome and stents. There were no studies exploring the root causes or alternative treatments. I wasn’t looking for a band-aid solution; I wanted to understand the “why” behind my condition.

Desperate, I turned to an old-fashioned Google search. I can’t tell you exactly what I typed in—perhaps something like “May-Thurner Syndrome and anterior tilt of the pelvis”—but that’s when I stumbled upon Dr. Scholbach’s website. It was a little tricky to navigate, but the science behind his explanations made sense. One of the sequelae of lordosis and anterior pelvic tilt, he explained, could be May-Thurner Syndrome. His checklist of symptoms aligned perfectly with everything I was experiencing. At the time, I had already learned from my chiropractor that I had an anterior tilted pelvis and lordosis. It had been confirmed via X-ray, but I never imagined it might be connected to May-Thurner Syndrome.

Still, I was skeptical. Could it really be as simple as correcting my posture and addressing the tilt in my pelvis? It sounded almost absurd compared to the invasive stent procedure I had been preparing for. But with nothing to lose, I decided to give it a try. I committed to six weeks of stretching and postural adjustments, telling myself that if I didn’t see results, I’d revisit the idea of stents. After 6 weeks, and with some results starting to show, I decided to extend my trial to six months.

That decision marked the beginning of a remarkable transformation. I started in September 2023. By March 2024, I had an ultrasound scheduled to check for improvements. Due to a snowstorm in Michigan, the appointment was pushed to April. When I finally got the results, I was stunned: my iliac veins, which had previously measured 2.2mm and 3.6mm, were now both over 15mm. I sat there, asymptomatic for the most part, with lingering but dissipating neurological symptoms. When I asked the providers whether correcting my posture and losing weight could have contributed to this dramatic improvement, their responses were dismissive: “There’s no way” and “This is anomalous.”

A mix of emotions overwhelmed me. Relief, disbelief, and even anger at the trauma of the journey I had endured. Since then, I’ve continued my regimen of stretches and self-care. I’ve had great days, good days, and the occasional not-so-good day. On those harder days, a 10-15 minute stretching session often helps alleviate minor back and leg pain. I also maintain an anti-inflammatory diet, not just for MTS but also for my autoimmune health.

Throughout this journey, I’ve lost 70 pounds. At 45, this weight loss has significantly relieved the strain on my pelvis and lower spine, contributing to my overall recovery. The difference is night and day.

I’ve documented this journey with photos. The first was taken in April 2021, just as my symptoms began to progress. The second is from recently, over three years later. The transformation is a testament to the power of perseverance, curiosity, and self-advocacy.

In sharing my story, my hope is to inspire others to seek answers, to dig deeper, and to never lose hope. While my path may not work for everyone, it’s a reminder that the human body is complex, and sometimes the solutions we’re looking for might lie outside conventional wisdom. Thank you for taking the time to read to my story and journey.