I had an absolute nightmare of an experience with Sean Keem. I’m 32, vibrant, alive. I used to be a dancer, a weightlifter, a runner. I loved my life as an athlete. When I found out I had spinal cord compression and would likely need surgery to find any relief, I was devastated – but I found solace in the procedure suggested to me, artificial disc replacement, and the accolades of my surgeon, Sean Keem.
I want to preface this review with the outcome of my surgery: failed. My artificial disc is migrating, I’m in horrible pain his office is incapable of controlling, and I doubt I’ll see the inside of a non-rehabilitative gym ever again. I cry daily over the loss of my sport. I have heavy restrictions several weeks after when I should’ve been able to start returning to normal life. I’ve had to cancel all of my post-op PT reservations, my gym membership, everything. I’m planning to fly soon to New York for a revision surgery by a surgeon at the best orthopedics hospital in the world, the… Hospital for Special Surgery.
Everything was fine until the day of my surgery. Dr. Keem came into my hospital room to talk to my husband and me, and was all optimism and smiles; on the way back to surgery, however, when I had been separated from my husband and was openly terrified and in tears, he said something weird. My original surgery date had been rescheduled because I forgot to stop taking an anti-inflammatory medication I had been taking for a knee injury and a hip injury. Dr. Keem made a remark about me taking the medication to intentionally have the surgery delayed (there were complications on my end with my original surgery time), and I felt sick to my stomach. I felt scared that a man who believed me to be a liar was about to operate on my spine. I also wondered why he had waited until I was “alone” to say that to me.
His last words to me weren’t of comfort or encouragement. They were an accusation he wasn’t brave enough to levy in front of my husband.
The day of the surgery was the most painful day of my life. I was sent home with oxycodone and no muscle relaxants. I was screaming and moaning involuntarily when I was awake, and my husband said I was moaning in my sleep. My neck was a rigid triangle on both sides from intense spasms. On day two of absolute and utter agony, I wrote them to ask if my level of pain was normal, and they prescribed me a muscle relaxant that gave me a few days of relief.
For my first post-op appointment, I didn’t even see Dr. Keem. I saw a PA-C who was completely unfamiliar with my case, because Dr. Keem left town right after operating on me. He took a quick look at my x-rays, told me everything looked good, dismissed my incredibly frightening and severe symptoms, and sent me on home. He later called to tell me the implant actually wasn’t in the right place, it had migrated; he also told me we would likely have to escalate to a fusion if it continued to move.
Dr. Keem had told me artificial disc replacement was the surgery for me, because I’m young and active and need my full range of mobility as a dancer, and now this PA-C who didn’t know anything about me or my case was telling me I’d likely need a fusion, something I had told Dr. Keem before the surgery was not an option for me. (A genetic disease I have, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome – most importantly, a disease Dr. Keem knew I have – made me more likely to experience migration of the device.)
I explained in the online messaging system that I was absolutely devastated by this news, and terrified to boot. His office was well aware of my emotional state and my statedly limited understanding of what was happening to me. I bought an expensive rigid neck brace during this time to try to prove to Dr. Keem that I’d be a good candidate to replace the disc in the right spot, if they’d please just not fuse me, and I kept his office updated as to my desperation and what I was hoping with my purchases.
Nobody even said as much as one word to put my mind at ease, and at my actual appointment with Dr. Keem several weeks later, he said a fusion wasn’t even on the table in the first place. I was terrified over inaccurate information, and nobody bothered to ask him any questions to provide answers to me.
My second x-ray results were terrible, and released to me automatically by the system. I again reached out to his office for help, and they read my messages and then left me to cry myself to sleep with fear that night.
Dr. Keem didn’t bother to explain what this new set of x-rays had said: new scoliosis where there had been none before, and kyphosis, a large reason I was getting the surgery in the first place. He acknowledged the device moved, and offered me a “free revision surgery.” He told me he was taking me on as a patient longer than his usual 6 weeks, and that he was “always there for me.” He told me to please start assuming the best of him. (Please keep in mind this is only after I asked his office if I wasn’t receiving attentive care because of my sex, age, or disabilities.)
His office informed me that he was disputing the x-ray results, and they would contact the radiologist to have the reports changed. I saved a copy of the results, and waited to see if they’d be updated. They weren’t. I kept informing his office. They said they didn’t have time to contact the radiologist yet, but that they would. To this day, the results are the same. I trust the radiologist far more than I trust Sean Keem.
My horrible pain started prompting seizure-like events, and I lost consciousness at a restaurant. My husband had to call 911, and EMTs came to revive me. I’d never had episodes anything like these before surgery, and both types of event were prefaced by an episode of horrible, agonizing muscle spasms in my neck. I went to the emergency room when I started to faint again the next day. Dr. Keem’s office told me to speak to other doc
Read More