CHAPTER ONE:
 

 I was a unique person a year ago, in seventh grade. I was pretty innocent, and up beat.

  My sister had moved out with her husband a couple of years ago, though I couldn't tell the difference between life with them or without them. The two were like vampires, up at night and asleep during the day.  I lived with both of my parents and still do to this day. Oh, my parents are as different as night and day. My mom is shy, wise, and sweet, and my Dad is stressful, goofy, and outspoken. Maybe that saying about opposites attracting is right?

 My first few days at Andrew Carnegie were pretty fun. I loved changes, because they always seemed to bring excitement. At this school in Orangevale, a lot of different things went on.  Like any school there was a lot of gossip and situations, thankfully I was only involved in one.  A couple of popular kids told me that they were going to beat me up after school, but they didn?t do anything. It's a normal way of acting for them, big words, but inside they?re afraid of everything.  The relationship with my teachers was good, mostly because I kept quiet and did my work.

  Although there is an on-task me, I also have many other sides. Some of these include the comedian, the party animal, and the dreamer.  At heart, I was mostly a dreamer. I loved to draw, write stories, and let my imagination go wild.  I was considered a shy girl by everyone but friends and family- which shows that you can't judge a book by its cover.

  At the age of twelve I was pretty healthy and never went through a bad experience before- until the second semester. It was during PE, when my life would really be changed, though not in a way most would expect.  I found out that day that I had something called Scoliosis. I figured it was nothing much, but I was wrong.  A few weeks later I found out that my spine curved awkwardly. My mind started stirring with fear and confusion; What would happen now?? I wondered.

  Well, what happened were several appointments; x-rays, check-ups, and then a fitting for a brace. A brace is a solid fitting that is made to fit your body. It's made out of plastic, and is strapped in the back. The pads on it are supposed to gently push the points of your spine that are out of line into place. It reminded me of a corset.  The first few weeks were horrible to me, but eventually I got more used to it, to the point that I felt strange without it.  My life went pretty normally from there, I exercised, and still got to be myself. The only drawback was that I had to wear baggy clothes to hide it. Although the brace helped my back, it didn't help enough. On my eighth grade orientation I found out that I needed to have surgery done this year.  The thought stunned me, and I soon became too lost in thought to say anything. "How am I going to get out of this one?"

CHAPTER TWO

My mom, like most would, tried to hide her fear from me, but it was easy to see past he disguise.  At times she seemed paranoid of the future.  I felt a little scared, but my friends and family were more afraid than I was.  Sometimes it seemed as if I was the only normal one.  I told everyone I felt fine, and almost believed it too. Most of the time I was wondering what would become of me. "Steph?"  My friend Jennifer?s voice drove away my thoughts.  "You ok?" she asked. I nodded solemnly. Jen made her way into the Home EC room and came back to join me in a walk around the school.

 The air was cold that morning, as it usually was in fall.  The leaves decorated the brown soil in a rush of colors. "I can't wait until the dance!" I exclaimed, "I'm going to have a blast!"  The school dances were about once every two months, and luckily my brace didn?t stop me from going.  "Me neither," Jen replied. I smiled at the thought of Kate and I going wild in front of the speakers. The first bell rang, then the second. Once again I found myself in History with Mrs. Ashton. The day seemed to pass slowly until I got to PE.  This last period was my favorite class. Once Mr. Blankenship gave instructions, everyone was ready to play basketball. It was Kate and I against Heather Perry, and Andy Stout.  Our eyes met as if challenging each other then the action began.  We ran up and down the court scoring points and blocking the other team.  After about thirty minutes of fun, it came to be a tie game. It's not like winning, but it's still cool!

  Rushing from the girl's locker room, I made my way to my bike. Its purple frame gleamed in the sunlight, and I smiled at the thought of the wind whipping in my hair.

After unlocking it, I hopped on and rode away from the bike rack. "Walk your bike!" the hall monitor yelled.  Hesitatingly I got off, rolling my eyes. "God is she annoying!" I thought irritably. Melissa came up behind me, "Would you wait up!" she exclaimed.

I let her walk beside me. "You won't believe what my teacher did today, she gave me Friday detention, and I didn?t even do anything!"  My gray blue-eyes met hers, and I shook my head, "What'd you do this time?" She glared at me; "I didn't do anything! I looked up and got detention!"  "Weird teacher," I replied.  We crossed the short strip of road and walked the bikes down the grass. Jen came up and took my bike to ride around on it. "I'm just gonna borrow this," she said.  I rolled my eyes, "Jen, come on, I need to get home!"  Finally I retrieved it and rode a mile north with Melissa with me for half the ride.

 The rest of the days were a lot alike, and I did have a blast at the dance. I was glad to have a few normal days, I just hoped they wouldn't be my last ones.

Chapter 3

 It was a day I had been dreading since my orientation, the day of my  surgery.  I stood stiffly, staring at the night sky, the wind blowing in my long blond hair.  When I first got my brace I told mom that I'd rather have surgery, but when the time came I wasn't too sure. I wore bell-bottom jeans and a semi tight green shirt, knowing that it would be the last time I could wear them for four months.  Drawing a long breath, I headed for the car.

 It was about a half-hour before we got to Sacramento hospital, and by then I just wanted the ordeal to be over with. In my mind all you had to do before a surgery was fill out a couple of forms, pay, and put on one of those gowns without a back. This wasn't so.   We were questioned a little, then the answers were put in a computer by a man that really couldn't type. After that we waited for another half-hour for someone to take us to the ready room.

 Finally, the doctor came and led us up to a higher floor. About two steps down the hall Dad was forced to go to the waiting room, while mom and I entered another room. I looked around slowly, the room was full of beds and curtains with people lying down, waiting for their surgery to begin.

 Mom had to help me into the gown, that tied on the top of the back. I felt a bit embarrassed, because I had to hold the back to keep it closed. After I laid down, Dad was allowed to come in. We got to see some of the people performing the surgery. They explained that they were going through the side to remove some vertebrae and fuse a rod to my back. I noticed, to my dismay, that the doctors seemed to consider me a project, and had no sympathy for what I was going through. I shrugged the thought off and let them take yet another bit of blood. After all these donations I was starting to feel like a pincushion.

 My parents talked to some more doctors and therapists while I fumbled with my beanie-babies. About a half-hour later the Nurse gave me what she called 'I don't care' medicine.

 It was supposed to relax me, but I couldn't feel much difference. We talked for another half-hour, and then I was rolled into the operation room. By then I felt more drowsy. The doctors carefully helped me move from the bed to the operation table. The last thing I remember seeing were the bright lights above the table, then everything went dark.

CHAPTER 4

 According to my mom, the first word I said when I came out was 'pain'.  The doctors were having trouble hooking up my pain medication. They gave me a strong morphine that made me drowsy.  I would fall asleep, then wake up thinking that it was the next morning.

 Turning away from the TV I saw a man walk in quietly. ?Is she up?? he asked my mom.  "Yes," I answered warily. As he  walked to me he spoke, "My name is Alex, I'm going to be your respiratory therapist."  He was a young man, as I recall he  had brown hair and hazel eyes.

 "What are you going to do to me?" I asked with a hint of discomfort.

 "Well, I'm going to help you clear your lungs. After the doctors punctured it, your lung filled up with phlegm. I'm going to need you to try and cough for me."

"Oh, great this is going to be fun," I thought sarcastically.

 Mom held a pillow against my side, and for what seemed like a half-hour I tried to cough. Alex used a device that vibrates to press against the top of my chest. It was supposed to loosen the flem, and hopefully get some of it out.  He left me with an instrument used to help me cough. It was basically an awkwardly shaped tube that had a nozzle coming out of it.  You breathed in through the nozzle and a small weight moved to tell you how strong your lungs are. I despised it. It was hard to get the right amount of pressure and it hurt to cough.

 That same day I was fitted for yet another brace. The thought of being encased again was appalling.  The man who makes the braces came in quickly, and papier-mached me. He put warm strips of material over me, front and back. When he pulled them off the strips had hardened, and they stuck together. From the mold he would make the form out of plastic.  My dad was stressing about the man who he thought wasn't being gentle enough, he eventually had to be kicked out.  Stressing seemed to be his way of showing concern for me, but his stressing only caused me to be more nervous.

"I bet you'll be happy to be up and about again!" the man said as he picked up the molding.

 "Yeah, but I'd rather get up without that thing," I grumbled to myself.  For the rest of the day I coughed, and watched TV. That was the routine most of the time in intensive care.

 The only other problem I had at the hospital was my pain medicine, again.  They had moved me from morphine to Tylenol, to a variety of others. It took them six tries until they found something that didn't make me drowsy or sick to me stomach.

 On the third night in the hospital Melissa and Will came to visit.

 "Hey bub, how ya doing?" Melissa asked.

 "I've been better," I answered dryly.

"I bet," Will said.

  They hung two stuffed animals over the bed, one from them and one from Will?s brother.  "Hey mom, take a picture," I told her, remembering my Photography project.

 "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yep," I answered.  She pulled the camera up to her face, "Smile!"

"That's going to look horrible!" I thought.  "Hey, wait a minute," I said with a sly smile, "Why should I smile, does this  look like a happy situation to you?!"

They laughed, "She's back," Will stated.

That day confirmed it, no experience was going to break my spirit!
 
  CHAPTER 6

  The light and action from the TV was the only thing that kept me awake that afternoon. It was my first day home, it felt good To be home again but it felt horrible to be going through the Same routines.  My hair was still in a messed up braid and I stank!  It would be about two weeks until I could shower, and even then I?d have to wear the brace.  I had to use baby wipes to keep myself clean (called teen wipes by my annoying parents ^_^).

  Things got better day after day. I was able to get up more, and I eventually was able to walk a mile a day. The doctor told me That if I worked up to a mile I would keep my strength up.

 My friends, family, and boyfriend visited me during my months out of school. I was lucky enough to have an E-mail friend that understood what I was going through.  I got a Gameboy  and games from my Aunt Debbie, and a plant from my boyfriend Joey.  The games were great; they gave me something to do. Unfortunately the plant died because I'm not used to taking care of that kind of stuff. (Oops!)

  After about a month I went into a short depression due to Claustrophobic reactions. I was really sick of being cooped up, It just wasn't me!

 When Christmas came, I felt a lot better and was much happier. The only thing that made me sad was the fact that my sister couldn't join in all the traditions since she moved out. If she hadn't come once in a while, the preparations would have been really boring.

  Christmas was the best day ever!  I got to have fun with all my family, and I got really cool presents.  I got Metalicca CDs, Star Wars book, and my favorite a lightsaber!  It was from my cousin Shawn. (the 30 year old little boy!)  He's really one of my favorite cousins! The presents and visits are what really got me through the next two months, if I didn't have those I would have gone insane.  A girl needs something to do in recovery!

 For once in my life school felt like heaven, I was back with my friends, and I felt normal again! The only drawback was that I had to carry my books on a cart.  Luckily, no one really bugged me about it, and if they did I just gave them a threatening look and they'd back off. A month later I got my brace off, and I know that I won't need that cart for too much longer. Finally, my life was back!

 If you have to go through something like this, remember this Advice;

1) Never be negative.

2) Hold on to friends and family.

3) Believe in yourself, you can do it!

4) The real medicine is a good sense of humor.