Quasimodo
I felt good. The previous day, I was nervous that I wouldn't pass the test. I felt sick, certain that my teacher would send me to the principal's office and tell me to call home because I couldn't stay at school. Instead, I heard, “Cool as a cucumber.”
Since things were good, that day couldn't be any worse. It was only one day later and we were still doing our health unit in P.E. I had the “right” percentage of body fat. My blood pressure was normal. My heartbeat was regular. My pulse was regular. I didn't have to exercise. I just had to put my gym suit on and do busy work while waited for my turn to have my health statistics recorded.
When the a nurse came in that day, that was different. I had thought our coaches were doing everything with health. Perhaps this would just be another lice check. After all, they had been regular occurrences in elementary school, so maybe they wanted a few done in middle school.
Then they announced that the nurse would see each of us in private.
I quickly found out that they were checking for scoliosis. While the checks were private, the students gossiped about the happening immediately.
It was my turn. That day in sixth grade changed my life.
I knew nothing after that check. However, by the time that I arrived home, I was informed that I had scoliosis. I had no idea what that meant, but it was explained to me.
“Okay, so I have an S shaped curve in my spine.”
There was some more talk. “Okay, so I have to see a doctor. Okay, so I might have to wear a brace.”
None of this mattered to a small girl who cared more about her academics than her physical abilities. I had never been good at sports or running. I always liked learning.
The next day came and nobody was supposed to know anything. I don't remember her name, but she was just a little bit taller than me. Her skin was dark and she was rotund.
“Hunchback!” she shouted. Tears came to my eyes. She continuously called me a hunchback. She even called me Quasimodo. For the rest of my sixth grade year, she wouldn't quit taunting me with those names. Then, if she could find anything, she would make fun of me.
My middle school years were filled with people making fun of me because of my brace. I couldn't help that the thing stank. I followed the doctor's orders and took it off for no more than two hours per day. My parents and I constantly washed the thing. However, we would have to make sure to wash it before I could take a bath or a shower because it took forever to dry. Towel drying it didn't help.
Of course I was never cold when it was cold. I was wearing three pounds of hardened nylon over my torso.
I was still wearing that brace in ninth grade.
Three and a half years of wearing a brace and what I got to show for it is all the terrible side effects of a Boston Brace. I get short of breath easily, really easily. It is like all of my internal organ are being squeezed.
As I got older, my back got sorer. I ended up buying a transport wheelchair because even from the day I first got to remove my brace, I had been dealing with having a sore back. With each passing year, it became worse.
Thankfully, though, my scoliosis didn't get worse and I can function normally in life. If my back is sore, I just use my transport wheelchair.
By now, I have owned that this is who I am. People used to make me feel embarrassed by these things, but by now, if people can't like me for me, I've learned that I just don't want to deal with them.
Disclaimer: This entry was written for LJ Idol: Season 9, Week 4, Topic: “Nobody can ride your back if your back's not bent” -- MLK.
Since things were good, that day couldn't be any worse. It was only one day later and we were still doing our health unit in P.E. I had the “right” percentage of body fat. My blood pressure was normal. My heartbeat was regular. My pulse was regular. I didn't have to exercise. I just had to put my gym suit on and do busy work while waited for my turn to have my health statistics recorded.
When the a nurse came in that day, that was different. I had thought our coaches were doing everything with health. Perhaps this would just be another lice check. After all, they had been regular occurrences in elementary school, so maybe they wanted a few done in middle school.
Then they announced that the nurse would see each of us in private.
I quickly found out that they were checking for scoliosis. While the checks were private, the students gossiped about the happening immediately.
It was my turn. That day in sixth grade changed my life.
I knew nothing after that check. However, by the time that I arrived home, I was informed that I had scoliosis. I had no idea what that meant, but it was explained to me.
“Okay, so I have an S shaped curve in my spine.”
There was some more talk. “Okay, so I have to see a doctor. Okay, so I might have to wear a brace.”
None of this mattered to a small girl who cared more about her academics than her physical abilities. I had never been good at sports or running. I always liked learning.
The next day came and nobody was supposed to know anything. I don't remember her name, but she was just a little bit taller than me. Her skin was dark and she was rotund.
“Hunchback!” she shouted. Tears came to my eyes. She continuously called me a hunchback. She even called me Quasimodo. For the rest of my sixth grade year, she wouldn't quit taunting me with those names. Then, if she could find anything, she would make fun of me.
My middle school years were filled with people making fun of me because of my brace. I couldn't help that the thing stank. I followed the doctor's orders and took it off for no more than two hours per day. My parents and I constantly washed the thing. However, we would have to make sure to wash it before I could take a bath or a shower because it took forever to dry. Towel drying it didn't help.
Of course I was never cold when it was cold. I was wearing three pounds of hardened nylon over my torso.
I was still wearing that brace in ninth grade.
Three and a half years of wearing a brace and what I got to show for it is all the terrible side effects of a Boston Brace. I get short of breath easily, really easily. It is like all of my internal organ are being squeezed.
As I got older, my back got sorer. I ended up buying a transport wheelchair because even from the day I first got to remove my brace, I had been dealing with having a sore back. With each passing year, it became worse.
Thankfully, though, my scoliosis didn't get worse and I can function normally in life. If my back is sore, I just use my transport wheelchair.
By now, I have owned that this is who I am. People used to make me feel embarrassed by these things, but by now, if people can't like me for me, I've learned that I just don't want to deal with them.
Disclaimer: This entry was written for LJ Idol: Season 9, Week 4, Topic: “Nobody can ride your back if your back's not bent” -- MLK.