I have rods.

My name is Jerica Bree Garrick. I am a student. a daughter. a mormon. a worker. a sister. a dancer..... and I have rods in my back.

I have been living in denial, and it is time that I come out and embrace what I have been given rather than try to hide it in fear of judgment or criticism- from myself and others. I am extremely hesitant about telling people about my rods. Why? Because I, for one, don't want to believe that I have them. And i figure the less I talk about it the less i have to face it. I don't want to be a 'freak' that had scoliosis and now has titanium in her back. I don't want to be treated differently or to have people worry about if tickle fights and water skiing hurt my back. I don't want to face that I have a disability- even tho it leaves me more 'able' than anything. I don't want the awkward sympathy. I don't want to play the victim. I don't want to have a 'cop out'. It is my biggest embarrassment. I hate when people tell other people about my rods. I get sooo embarrassed. I try to forget that I ever had scoliosis. But it's hard to forget something that you deal with every single day...

My inspiration for this blog came from a few different avenues:

1st. My mom. She has always been by my side thru this entire scoliosis journey. More so than anyone else on earth. And she has always begged me to own up to it, be proud of it, and use it to inspire others. The only problem is- to inspire others would require me actually telling others which would require me swallowing my pride... something I haven't been able to do.
2nd. My roommate and dear friend, Britt. Britt has seen struggle, and she has been able to overcome and cope and continues to do so. She is such an inspiration to me. Her and I have a very unique, incredibly deep connection. We have helped each other thru a lot. We are very honest with each other and she has truly changed my life for the better. Having her to confide in and find strength and support from has helped me more than she knows.
3rd. My cousin Alexis. She went public with her battle of cancer and has consequently inspired hundreds of people including myself.
~I love and thank these wonderful women.~

My fight started in middle school when I was diagnosed with scoliosis or "crooked spine". We went to a doctor- Dr. John T. Smith. He wanted to do regular check ups to keep an eye on it. But as I grew, the scoliosis only got worse and more painful. And so the doctor prescribed a back brace...
It was middle school... we had just moved into the new area and new school, I was in my 'awkward' and overweight phase, i had glasses braces and now This. This. This brace was nothing short of miserable. First of all, you had to wear a white, short sleeve cotton onesie underneath. Then you put on the brace and lie on the ground on your stomach in nothing but your onesie at which point someone had to strap it on as tight as the doctor had marked on the straps... which was always ridiculously tight. Then you awkwardly get off the ground, unable to breath with the corset-from-hell on and put on multiple layers of clothes. Why the layers? the brace made my body look ridiculously dis-proportioned and thus I tried to hide it with the massive amounts of clothing. It was hot. So so hot. I was constantly in a sweat and out of breath which made me feel ten times fatter than I actually was. Plus I was always terrified that someone would accidentally bump into me and notice that I was wrapped in rock hard plastic... try explaining that one! haha. I remember my mom always joked- "well at least you'll have rock hard abs!" haha oh how that woman is the only reason i have survived this life...
And maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't on the Advanced Dance team. But that was my way of fitting into my new school and awkward body and i was NOT about to give it up. Dance had been my whole life. I was raised by a dancer, around dancers, always dancing. It was what I had spent my whole life learning and loving. Plus- for those few minutes when I was free of the brace... I experienced pure freedom. And that was worth the awkward stuffing of the brace into a locker and hoping nobody would see- then waiting til all the girls left to pull it out and have someone put it on me. One word to explain this brace: Awkward. And it was uncomfortable too. The left side jabbed clear into my arm pit and the back pads left red marks and rashes. I was suppose to wear it at night... but i could never sleep and quickly learned to take it off myself... something mum wasn't too happy about it. She would come in to wake me up each morning and find that brace on the ground and beg me to just leave it on for one. single. night. But it was just sooo hot and uncomfortable... and so the struggle went.

The only enjoyable part was the warm plaster they applied over your body as you were being fitted for the brace. I did not mind that at all :)

So the years went on... the back brace wasn't working [slash] i wasn't wearing it. The curve got worse and exceeded 60 degrees. I was in great pain and had an uneven back apparent to the naked eye. We went to the doctor for one of our check ins and he broke the news to us- I needed surgery. If I didn't get the surgery, it would only be a matter of years before I was completely hunched over and unable to walk. Everyone acted like it was such a big deal, but I just thought of my scoliosis as an annoying little bug that i only dealt with when i was forced to and otherwise pretended like it wasn't there. I said 'yea, sure' to the surgery. I just wanted to get it done and move on with my life. I was terrified of the effects it would have on my dancing, but most of the time just tried not to think about it.
The surgery came... Mom and her husband at the time, Jon, took me in. We had family drama that morning on our way to the hospital. I was excited when the nurse finally came to get me from the waiting room because the drama was not something 'high school jerica' wanted to handle. Neither was the scoliosis, but at least it involved anesthesia. In high school, the only thing a girl wants to worry about is her hair, bff's, and boyfriends. Not a physical deformity. But alas my surgery would fix it and I could go on and never look back.
The surgery lasted a few hours (I honestly don't know how long). They hung me upside down I guess and cut an incision along my spine going from my neck to my tailbone (a very straight one, might i add. thanks dr. smith! :)
they then did some doctor stuff and put in 2 titanium rods and six screws, stitched me up, and I woke up a short time after. Oh what a rude awakening that was. All my defenses and denial failed me as I was forced to face the rude reality of the surgery. I can remember that hospital room very well. I remember the unmentionable pain, the discomfort. I remember in the middle of the night... the beeping machines and the nurses coming in every so often to lift me up and place me on my opposite side so that my organs didn't settle wrong or something like that. and it seemed every time i would finally be able to drift back to sleep they'd be right in to do it again. i hated moving or being moved- it was the most painful thing. I remember crying and crying and crying and pushing that stupid painkiller button in hopes that it had been long enough since the last time i pushed it. I remember feeling like this was the end, and wanting nothing more than to give up. I didn't want to fight this scoliosis battle anymore. I hated it and I hated having the reality of it hit me like a big red truck. I did not want to be conscious. I had visitors that were sweet enough to come see me, but I had little to no desire to talk or eat or do anything for that matter. It only took a matter of minutes for me to slip into a deep deep depression where I had completely forgotten what I was fighting for. And what a sad, sad place that was. But the Lord would have never given me something that I couldn't handle, thus he gave me my mom. She stayed by my side night and day. She held my hand and catered to my every need. She listened to the endless sobs and cries for relief. She put her own fears and pains aside so that she could entirely focus on mine. Truly the greatest blessing in my life. Well the hospital days continued. They wanted me to sit up. I didn't want to. Nothing seemed more difficult than that- sitting up. But somehow I did it and threw up every single time. That was fun haha. Then they wanted me to walk and eat and go to the restroom by myself- all these things that had once come so natural to me but I was now not even motivated to do. But somehow, we got thru. Mom, God and I did it. I remember I was in the hospital on Easter and the nurse brought me a huge Easter basket with a big bunny and hand tied blanket. I cried and cried I was so grateful for a service project that someone- some mutual group or charity organization did, which meant the world to me. Because oh how I needed it that Easter Sunday. I needed the grace of God and my mother on that balcony because I otherwise had lost my meaning. But finally, the hospital days were over and we got to go home! Little did my mom know she would be taking care of me as she once did when i was an infant- attending to my every need. I became so dependent on her. So weak. I had no motivation to walk, but she would give me daily challenges to walk up the stairs once, or bribe me with a dvd if I ate all 3 meals. She tried to keep my life as normal as possible, but my lack of will power made it difficult and so she did what only a selfless love-filled mother could do, and became a stay at home mom to help her struggling 15 year old daughter. Months went by and my days became more meaningful. The homeschooling sucked and watching tv all day sucked and still fighting depression sucked but mom made it suck so much less. She helped to rehabilitate me and held my hand for months as I recovered. And Alas! I did recover! It was slow and painful, but more worth it than anything. And although it was a lonnnggg time before I accepted that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I finally reached it thanks to all the angels involved. I started to work out after about a year and started to dance again. I made the drill team and danced my heart out. I left my surgery in the dust, and never looked back. I haven't stopped dancing since, but now 5 years later its starting to catch up with me. It's like i crawled out of the scoliosis surgery black hole and sprinted away from it as fast as i could, but I haven't stopped sprinting since. I am almost 21, and have put my poor back thru endless nights of leaps and kicks and turns and rolls. It is time for me to slow down. Many girls are affected differently by the surgery; some can't even run. But I have been very blessed, and now I have to decide what I want to do with it. This wear and tear is no bueno, and I need to start thinking about my future. My rods gave me a second chance at life out of a wheelchair, but at this rate i'm headed right back down that path and into that wheelchair. I don't want that. I want to be able to hold my kids and chase them around. I want to be able to exercise and stay healthy and upright. Now I love dance. I am a dancer. It is my passion, my identity, my control, my upbringing, my exercise, my job, my release and my euphoria. But it is time to say good bye to it because I have new pages to turn in this chapter of life that without my healthy body are close to impossible. Dance used to make me so happy, and it still does, but it's not worth coming home to the tears, advil, and ice packs on not only my back, but knees hamstrings and shoulders too. I feel like my body is aging in warp speed and its scary to gingerly walk up stairs 1mph at a young age of 20. Now as Britt and I say- i don't have to eat an elephant overnight. But I will slowly prepare myself to say goodbye. I will hold onto my dancing memories and look forward to new life experiences. I will learn to fill the void with healthier outs and rely on all my identities besides just Jerica the Dancer. I will show my gratitude for my rods by taking care of myself and my back. I will realize that I have proven to myself and everyone else what I can do with dance and i will replace dreams of dancing in LA with dreams of a happy healthy family and future. Lastly, I just want to say how grateful I am for my rods. And how grateful I am that I have accomplished what I have with what i have been given. I hope that I can inspire even just one person. I hope I can humble myself and embrace my trial instead of bury it. Because when it comes down to it, i will still wake up everyday with that 1ft 3inch scar along my spine. (yes, i did just measure it. quite a sight of coordination hahaha).

xoxo miss jer bree
p.s. for some reason, when my back is exposed to sun it gets splotches of red and white pigment colors around the scar... but i don't mind :)