When the Doctor is 100 km Away: The Struggle for Spine Care in Remote Villages

Somewhere in a remote tribal village in Chhattisgarh, a 14-year-old girl named Rinki winces as she bends to pick up her school bag. It’s heavy, but it’s not the weight alone. Her back hurts more than it should. Her mother thinks it’s just growing pains. Nobody suspects scoliosis. Nobody even knows what that is.

And even if they did, what next? The nearest spine specialist is more than 100 km away.

This is not just one girl’s story. This is the everyday struggle of rural India—of thousands of children, women, and elders who silently carry the burden of undiagnosed spinal issues.

The Silent Epidemic No One Talks About

When we think of back problems or spinal disorders, we imagine city dwellers stuck at desks or older people with sedentary lifestyles. But in truth, some of the worst cases are hidden in India’s most rural and tribal areas—places where life itself demands physical strain every single day.

People walk for kilometres carrying firewood. Children carry water pots taller than themselves. Women squat for hours cooking over open fires. And yet, back pain is rarely treated as a medical issue. It’s seen as “normal.” Or karma. Or age.

But it’s not just wear and tear.

Spinal deformities like scoliosis and kyphosis are shockingly common among tribal adolescents.

Slipped discs, nerve compressions, and severe back pain are crippling older generations too.

What makes it worse:

Malnutrition: Weak bones and muscles from poor childhood nutrition.
No early screening: Spinal curvature often goes unnoticed until it’s severe.
No access to physiotherapy: Most PHCs aren’t equipped to deal with spinal issues.
Cultural stigma: Deformities are hidden, and pain is tolerated in silence.

By the time a patient seeks help, they’re often bent, immobile, or unable to work. And unfortunately, help isn’t around the corner—it’s usually across a state highway, beyond a forest, or three buses away.

When 100 Kilometres Feels Like 1000

Imagine you’re in a small village in Gadchiroli. Your back has been hurting for months. You’re barely sleeping. Your legs have started tingling. But the only spine doctor is in Nagpur—over 120 km away.

Now factor in:

One bus every two days.
Roads washed out by monsoon.
No one to look after your children if you leave.
A daily wage job you’ll miss if you go.
Fear of being told “surgery karni padegi” with no money to pay.

So, you stay home. You endure. Until it’s too late.

This is what “healthcare access” really means in the heart of India. It’s not about whether hospitals exist. It’s about whether people can reach them—and whether they feel safe and supported enough to try.

The Spine Foundation: Reaching the Forgotten

This is where The Spine Foundation (TSF) steps in—quietly, consistently, and with deep care.

Founded by Dr. Shekhar Bhojraj, one of the country’s most respected spine surgeons, TSF has been on a mission to bring spine care to places where even basic healthcare is a luxury.

Here's how:

Mobile Spine Clinics

Vans equipped with diagnostic tools and led by trained spine doctors.
They visit remote tribal regions—crossing rivers, driving through forests, parking in school grounds or village mandaps.
People are screened for scoliosis, kyphosis, nerve problems, and more.
Those who need surgery are referred to partnered hospitals—sometimes with transport, food, and full cost covered.

These mobile clinics have become a lifeline. People wait for them like they wait for rainfall.

Rural Spine Care Centres (RSCCs)

These are permanent spine care hubs set up in areas like Gadchiroli (in partnership with SEARCH), Melghat, and Dantewada.
Staffed by TSF-trained doctors—often locals who’ve come back after training.
Offer follow-ups, physio, and community-level education on posture, lifting, and spinal hygiene.

Building Local Capacity

ASHA workers and local health volunteers are trained to spot early signs of spinal issues.
School teachers are taught to check for abnormal spinal curves during class.
Young MBBS doctors from rural areas are offered fellowships in spine care—creating sustainability.

Real Stories. Real Change.

Sameer, 11, from Melghat, always walked with a slant. Kids made fun of him. Teachers said he was lazy. His parents thought he had a “weak back.” Then a TSF van arrived. A quick check revealed scoliosis. Within weeks, he was treated. Today, he stands tall, goes to school, and plays cricket.

Ganga Bai, a 62-year-old from Dantewada, spent months lying down, thinking she had a stroke. Her leg was numb. She couldn’t sit. A TSF doctor diagnosed nerve compression. With a small surgery and guided physio, she’s now back to grazing goats and walking unaided.

These aren’t miracle cases. They’re simply what happens when care meets access.

The Gender Divide: When Women’s Pain is Dismissed

Let’s talk about the invisible burden women carry.

They lift, squat, bend, stretch, and carry the family—literally. But they’re also the last to seek care.

Reasons?

“Who will take care of the house?”
“I can’t afford to go.”
“It’ll go away on its own.”
Shame and modesty, especially around male doctors

TSF’s mobile clinics are consciously designed to make women feel safe and heard. Female staff, private screenings, and community outreach make a huge difference. Girls in schools are screened quietly and respectfully. Mothers are counselled with care.

In many tribal villages, this is the first time women are even told their pain has a name—and a solution.

Why This Matters—Now More Than Ever

India’s healthcare system is stretched. But for the rural poor, especially in tribal belts, the situation is dire.

70% of India lives in rural areas.
But less than 10% of spine specialists are accessible outside cities.
PHCs are rarely equipped for spine-related care.
Most spinal disorders go untreated for years.
The economic loss from chronic back pain is massive, yet uncalculated.

And let’s not forget the emotional toll. When a child drops out due to bullying, or a farmer can’t earn because of pain, it affects not just individuals—but entire families and generations.

What Needs to Happen

More mobile clinics, more routes, more frequency
Support from government and private sectors
School-based screenings and community awareness drives
Training of local health workers in spinal red flags
A rural spine care policy embedded into national health programs

Conclusion: The Distance Shouldn’t Decide Your Destiny

Being born 100 km from a hospital should not seal your fate. Yet, for many, it does.

But hope doesn’t always come in a white coat in a city hospital. Sometimes, it comes in a dusty van. With a team that speaks your language. With someone who checks your posture and tells you, “We can fix this.”

The Spine Foundation is doing that work. Quietly. Every week. Across India’s most difficult terrains.

All that’s needed now is for more people to join the movement—spread awareness, donate, support, or simply talk about it.

Because behind every crooked walk is a person just trying to live pain-free.

And behind every mobile clinic is a story of what’s possible when healthcare is driven not by geography—but by heart.