It all started in 2008 when I was five years old and learning to climb the monkey bars at Daniels Park. My dad was trying to help me overcome my fear of monkey bars by holding my legs as I went across.

”Daddy I can’t hold on anymore! I’m gonna fall! Help me!” I exclaimed in fear.

“You are not going to fall, I have your legs. I won’t let you fall, I promise,” said my dad, reassuring me that I was safe. I could feel my hands slipping from cold red metal bars. My dad, being him, let go of my legs. I fell to the ground and hit my back against the bars that held the equipment.

Sobbing, I said, “Why would you let go? You promised you wouldn’t let me fall. My back hurts now.” I could tell he felt bad. “I’m sorry, baby. Let’s go home and put ice on it,” my dad said apologetically. After that incident, I had a lot of back pain. I would get shooting pain in the middle of my back. I would ask my parents to rub it all the time.

It was 2014 and we were in the middle of Walmart when my stepmom noticed I was leaning to the right. “Why are you walking like that?” my stepmom asked me. She put one hand on my left

shoulder and one hand on my right shoulder. She tried to make me stand straight. 

“Ow, that hurts!” I exclaimed in pain. She jerked her hands back and appeared worried.

She told my dad, “Maybe you should get her looked at. That’s not okay.”

A couple days later, I went to the chiropractor. My mom and I were filling out a paper talking about my back pain, and a nurse put us in a room with X-ray equipment.

A tall, blonde, young man came in. “I’m afraid that your daughter might have scoliosis. I don’t normally X-ray children, but I think it is very necessary,” said the chiropractor, Dr. Meyer. 

After Dr. Meyer looked over the X-rays, he told my parents I had scoliosis. I remember feeling scared because I didn’t understand what that meant. “If you want me to adjust her, I will, but I would advise against it,” said Meyer. My parents decided to have him adjust me anyway, which hurt very bad.

My parents then took me to my family doctor, and she referred us to the Physicians' Clinic of Iowa. My specialist was the same specialist that my dad had for his arm. Dr. P. did more X-rays and told us the results. “As you can see, she has two curves. The one at the top is a 33-degree curvature and the bottom is a 35-degree curvature. I think it best to put her in a back brace. I will send you to Hanger Clinic, where she can be fit for a brace.” explained Dr. P.

When I walked through the doors of Hanger, it smelled like a nursing home. A man had to poke me in my ribs and other places. Then, I had measurements taken with a laser device, and I had to stay really still, which is hard for any 11-year-old. About a month later, we picked up the brace.

The brace would make my legs go numb. I never told my parents that I just didn’t wear it. “Danica, go put your brace on!” My mom yelled from a different room. I never put it on.

In 2015, I was back in the specialist's office, I had another round of X-rays done. Sitting there, I hoped I would be better. I was a gymnast and a lot was at stake.

“Good afternoon! Let’s have a look, shall we?” greeted Dr. P. “Well, the top curvature is now 54 degrees, and the bottom is 53 degrees. I know this is not a fun topic, but we might need to think about surgery,” Dr. P. said. At the time, I didn’t know how to feel. Should I cry? Should I storm out? I sat there and pretty much tuned them out after that.

“Danica! What are you feeling?” asked my mom.

“I don’t want to do it. I’m scared. I have gymnastics!” I cried. I remember seeing one tear go down my mother's face as well. My dad has always tried hard not to show his emotions. 

My parents decided to get a second opinion, and that was the last time I ever saw Dr. P. We went to Iowa City Hospital, where X-rays took about an hour. We spent another hour in the waiting room.

“Danica!” called the nurse. I was led into a room with a really high bed. I sat there worrying, hoping that Dr. P. got it wrong. “Well, Danica, you need to have this surgery within six months, or

you might not live. Your lungs will eventually smash your heart.” said Dr. Weinstein.

“Well, let's get this over with.” I said with no hesitation.

“Are you sure?” asked my mom.

“I have no choice,” I said.

It was July 21, 2016, when I finally had my back surgery. I had the support of everyone around me. I don’t think I would be here today without my family. I had aunts, uncles, grandparents, and

my parents there throughout the surgery and the four days I spent in the hospital. It also took me six months to recover. Soon after that, I went through periods of depression, but I'm glad to say that today I'm good. Not completely better, but good. Though I had an obstacle to overcome, I tackled it as best I could. It wasn’t easy, but I've learned that nothing is ever as easy as we want it to be.