Spondylolysis You have spondylolysis. What? This begins my new life. My butt is frozen on the metal patient table; my nose full of that annoying disinfectant smell, the classic scent of the doctors office. Dr. K is sitting on a low swivel chair, gray wisps of hair poking out from the top of his head, like soundless smoke dancing up to the sky. Whats that, Doctor? my mom asks, resting in one of those dull plastic seats resembling the ones in the waiting room.