One November day, I laid in my bed thinking my life as I knew it was over.  Earlier that day, I had received news that I would have to wear a back brace for scoliosis twenty-two hours a day starting as soon as possible and continuing for two years.  I was devastated.  My grandma and mom tried to come in to comfort me saying, “It’s not the end of the world.  It’s only two years.”

“Only two years?? ONLY TWO YEARS! Are you kidding me??” I shouted at them.  I never would have spoken like that to my sweet grandmother who still retains a strong English accent after living in Washington, D.C. for fifty years.  Two years would put me in the middle of my freshman year of high school.  Those years seemed like an eternity from then.  I could barely remember when my homework was due.
I had been through so much trauma in just two short weeks.  Two weeks earlier, I had been diagnosed with moderately-severe scoliosis.  The diagnosis was a complete surprise because no doctor had ever detected even mild scoliosis.  The curve had progressed rapidly during my seventh grade growth spurt.  The doctor had initially tried to hide the severity of the diagnosis and prescribed me for an x-ray.  The x-ray revealed that I had three curves, the largest of which being forty-three degrees.  I was then sent to a terrifying former army doctor who fitted me for a night brace.  The brace looked like a torture device and had a huge bend at the top so that when I stood up I was leaning completely to one side.  Not only did the brace look awful, it felt even worse.  I remember lying on the couch crying because of the pain and not even being able to lie down properly.  Thankfully, that brace lasted only two weeks until my parents decided that they wanted a second opinion.

We visited a doctor at Children’s Hospital who reevaluated my X-ray and brought the worst news of all.  “You will need to wear a brace everyday until your growth slows down.”  Those words were the worst words I had ever heard.  I cried the rest of the appointment and just couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to wear a torture device to school everyday.  I was certain I would look like a freak and have metal parts sticking out from under my clothes.  A seventh-grader’s brain thinks that everything that is different is terrible and will equate to shunning from her peers.

A few days later, my parents accompanied me to yet another doctor who would make my brace.  There were samples of braces that other children had worn with stars and soccer balls decorating the torture devices.  It just seemed so ironic that something so terrible would be covered in such happy patterns.  It all became very real when I helped my doctor, Luke, make my brace.  I chose the pattern, and being a seventh grader overly concerned about what other people thought, I chose a bland white. 

My doctor suggested naming my brace.  He probably thought that I would name it a normal name like Sam or Frank, but I named it simply, It.  I felt that It did not deserve the dignity of a real name.

That first day of school with It was terrifying.  I felt so exposed walking into school even with my oversized clothing.  I’m sure no one noticed, but I felt so awkward walking into a sea of normal thirteen-year-olds wearing whatever they wanted.  It just felt so unfair that not only did I have to wear a clunky, uncomfortable, and annoying It, I was restricted in what I could wear and what I could do. 

The best part about wearing It was getting to take it off for skating.  I was a competitive figure skater and the only thing that kept me sane during that difficult time was feeling free flying across the ice and feeling like I could do anything.  For the one or two hours I took It off for practice, I forgot about It and all my other worries.  Nothing else mattered except for me and the ice. 

The summer before eighth grade, I started practicing a method of physical therapy specifically for patients with scoliosis.  I spent two hours a day for two weeks learning all the exercises, and then I would have to do them everyday.  The exercises take thirty minutes to complete.  Half an hour may not seem like a lot of time, but it is very painful spending thirty minutes doing something so boring.  The exercises are designed in a way so that it is very difficult to do anything like watching TV or reading while doing the exercises.  I hate doing them because they were so immensely boring, but I did them diligently.

At school I had to change for gym in a locker room swarming with pre-teen and teenage girls already self-conscious about just about everything.  It would have been so hard for me to take off It in the middle of everyone and answer all the questions and feeling the judgement on my back.  I arranged with the teachers that I would take off It in the bathroom in their office and run back and change into my gym clothes.  After gym, I would change back into my clothes and then put on It.  Sweat and It did not go together well.

I somehow managed to make it through middle school without most people knowing about It.  In reality, the clothes I wore mostly disguised It, although I felt that all eyes were on me as I walked down the hallway.  I became an expert at disguising It, although I was often sacrificing comfort.  I was determined to maintain my somewhat “normal” style while wearing It and refused to wear bulky sweatshirts to hide It everyday. 

After middle school, I became more confident as more of my friends and teammates started learning about It.  The summer going into high school I quit skating after eight years and began my second season of field hockey.  That season I made varsity as one of two freshmen, and was playing with lots of scary upperclassmen.  I started taking It off and putting It in a bag covered up, then putting it in the bag uncovered, then without a bag, and just taking It off on the field.  I was scared that people would treat me differently because of It, and would feel sorry for me, but no one did, which gave me the confidence to expose It.  Some of my teammates even tried on It for fun and It became fun rather than embarrassing.  They wondered how I wore It everyday for so long, and I think they respected me for it.

That fall, I received the very surprising news that my curve had been reduced by eight degrees.  This news was especially surprising because curves almost never decrease, and the best scenario would be for them to stabilize.  It was such a relief to know that I had been doing something right and all my hardships had paid off for something good.  I originally had a sixty percent chance of my curve stabilizing and a forty percent chance of having to have surgery.  Surgery meant that I would not be able to do sports for a whole year, and with my active lifestyle and my attention span for sitting still, that would have been nearly impossible.  I really did not want to have two titanium rods in my back, with dozens of screws accompanying them.  Not having that surgery was definitely my motivation for doing my physical therapy and wearing It. 

The best news of all from that doctor’s appointment was that in March I would not have to wear It during the day.  March 26, 2015, my fifteenth birthday, was the specific day my family chose.  Not wearing It to school for the first time in almost two and a half years was the best birthday present I could ever receive.  Along with that ultimate gift, I finally got to wear a tank top for the first time in years!  I still had to wear It at night, and still do until I completely stop growing. 

Stopping wearing It during the day finished the worst of my scoliosis journey, but the journey will continue for the rest of my life.  I will have to continue physical therapy as often as I can to keep my back as healthy as possible, but there will always be that worry that my curve will progress as I age.  My back is still almost always sore and gets sore much faster doing field hockey than normal people’s backs.

You never think these things will happen to you until they do, but everyone has something difficult about them that they have to overcome.  It won’t end when I stop wearing It.  This battle will continue and follow me my entire life with physical therapy, back pain, and a reminder of my worst battle.  Half the battle was just the timing.  It was so difficult being a middle schooler and constantly worrying about what other people thought.  It may have been easier later in life when I will have stopped worrying so much about my peers, or even now, after experiencing wearing It, I have stopped caring so much about what other people think or being different.  

I am most grateful that my diagnosis has not prevented me from doing things that I love.  I am a three-sport varsity athlete and haven’t let my grades slip from straight A’s throughout my treatment.  I hope to continue to play lacrosse and/or field hockey in college.  Above all other things, I learned perseverance from my journey.  Life will not always be easy, and not everything will be handed to me on a silver platter.  Only hard work brings results.  You cannot buy success or dream about it; you have to work hard everyday if you want to be successful and turn your dreams into reality.  I am so thankful that my journey has turned out the way it has, and I hope it continues to stay positive.