Too Young

"Mom, my leg hurts again." These are the dreaded words my mom had to hear when I was in sixth grade. My mom didn't think to much of it, but after months of this pain she took me to the doctor. We went to the clinic in Beulah, and the doctor told me I just was out of shape. My mom and I decided to get a second opinion because the pain was way to horrific for it to be my weight. We made in appointment in Bismarck with Dr. Moore. He sent me to physical therapy for a few weeks, but the pain persisted. He ordered a MRI and we made an appointment to see him a few days after the MRI. Well, needless to say, it wasn't my weight. He found a bulged disc in my lower back. My only option was back surgery. He told I was the youngest person he's ever had to do a back surgery on, and the worst back he's ever seen. I got the surgery, which is called a discectomy, and went home the day of. After the medicine wore off, the pain came back with such intensity we had to go back to the Bismarck ER. He did an emergency MRI and saw that the bulge came back out. He went in a few days after and redid the surgery. I stayed in the hospital for those few days, and another night after the surgery. I finally slept with no pain and woke up with no pain. 
Four years later, sophomore year, the pain came back. I dreaded to tell my mom those words once again. We went back to Moore and he sent me to Dr. Johnson for a pain shot, the pain went away finally. Though, one year later, my junior year (this year), I had to once again tell her about my pain. I've been in pain for six months now. Dr. Moore makes his decision on surgery after six months of pain. I got a shot first, which helped for a few days. I got a shot a few weeks after again, which helped for three weeks. Now, it's been six weeks since that second shot and I'm back to where I started. He's told me my choices, surgery with about a foot long incision, or another shot and cross our fingers it works. 
Now, I'm sure everyone is saying take the shot! Well, imagine a bee stinging you 10 times and then multiply that pain by 10. That's about the pain, but the needle is at least 4 inches long, and goes into my back all the way to my spine. If he makes one tiny mistake, I could be paralyzed. So, now imagine my dilemma, not to mention the horrendous feeling I get every time Moore brings up this shot. 
Lastly, the surgery. Well, incisions and scars are SO much better than pain, right? WRONG. Don't forget the possible paralysis from this, too. Not to mention, possible leakage of spinal fluid. Doing another discectomy on me could be very difficult and almost impossible. This could mean a possible fusion of my discs. To further explain a fusion, it's where they take the disc between your vertebrae out and fuse the two vertebrae together making you unable to bend at the site of the fusion. They also sometimes need to add a metal "instrument" to hold the bones together.  I'm only 17 years old, which would mean another fusion at least every 10 years. Now, I have to choose what to do. My choice can affect my entire future. I'm young still and would love to have kids, a good job, and be active with my children. Having a fused back can make this overly difficult. Unfortunately, there's no magic answer...only my difficult choice. 

Bulge

Fusion

S.A.D.D. Isn't Very Sad

S.A.D.D. what do these four little letters have anything to do with me? Well, they stand for Student's Against Destructive Decisions. Ever since I was a freshman, I've been a part of this club. Mr. Wold and I were talking one year and he told me I should go. I went home and talked to my parents about it, and decided I'd go. So, I signed up and found out that I was the only freshman from Beulah going. Life=RUINED! I didn't even know what it was about, and now I would be the only one in my grade going! Oh, how would I ever live? Well, considering I'm still here today to write about this experience, I obviously lived. I may not have had any kids in my grade go, but it was one of the best times I've ever had. I learned about all the destructive decisions there can be. There are some big ones that everyone knows about like drinking, doing drugs,or driving while under the influence. However, there are ones that some people don't even think about like texting while driving, bullying someone, or driving with distractions. The state conference was definitely an eye opener and made me want to go the next year.
My sophomore year, I recruited a few people from my grade and the grade below me. I finally had people that I knew and were friends with going! Now that I had that part accomplished, I'd just have to show them how fun it could be. It was held at the Alerus Center that year, and it was much bigger than when it was at Jamestown. I got to room with people I were friends with and it made the experience even more incredible. People assume that we're goody-goodies and that we don't know how to have fun because we always follow the rules. Well, the only way to get that "boring" sign off of our backs, is to tell people to come to state and see exactly how much fun we can have. We don't just sit around talking about how everything is bad and we should do all that we can to avoid these situations. Instead, we listen to speakers, laugh, have a dance, listen to live music, and learn how to have all of this great fun without being under the influence. People always think that the only way you can have fun is if your drunk or high, well I'm here to say that is not true at all. I can honestly say that the most fun I have all year is at state.
Well, now that I'm a junior I'm getting closer to the end of my Beulah S.A.D.D. life. This year, we got told we can't go. The weather was too bad, and the suburban we were going to take didn't have four-wheel drive. So, naturally my fellow members and I were all crushed. I'm not sure I will ever get over the fact that I didn't get to go. I know I have next year, but I've been looking forward to this since last year's conference. I actually know people from other cities after the few years I've gone. I've been slowly getting out of my shell and meeting new people. So, while I'm sitting here being sad about this all of my S.A.D.D. friends are at state having fun.

Good thing I'm not a senior, because I can't wait for next year!

Anxiety Girl to the Rescue!

Having anxiety is something that most people don't understand. It's something that is hard to deal with especially when you get your first attack at age five. My grandma Blaisdell died and I developed this a month or so after. She was a really big part of my life, being the only parent of my father that I got to meet. She lived in Minnesota so we didn't get to see her as often as I would've liked. I don't remember many things about her, which isn't a very good feeling for me. She was a sweet lady who cared about everyone. Her apartment had a rocking chair and they remind me of her everytime I see one. My grandma was one of my favorite people, and I miss her a lot.

Her death made me develop anxiety, a month after she died I would go into my parent's room and say I had this feeling. I don't remember a lot about this, but now that I've grown up I realized what this feeling was; it was an anxiety attack. The one thing I remember most clearly about this was telling my mom I didn't want to die. I was only five and obviously didn't know a lot about death. I still get attacks now at age 17. I know how to make them receed, but there isn't a cure for it. As much as I wish there was, having social and seperation anxiety has changed me as a person. I have grown much closer to my parents and I haven't been able to make friends as easily as most people have. I have a hard time opening up and talking to people because the thought closes my throat and makes me sick so I have to get myself away from the situation which isn't always possible. My mom has had to also change her ways. She has to be careful what she does, and watch the situations she puts me in. I'm 17 and I still make her come into gas stations and other places with me. My mom has helped me get through this, and she has made this problem much easier to deal with. I'm hoping I can learn better ways to cope, but for now, I'm still stuck with those "feelings."

The Power of Words

People tend to ignore how much words can hurt. Everyone thinks about bullying as the mean guy in school stealing the nerd's lunch money or punching people to get their way. Yes, bullying can be physical, but ignoring how much verbal pain hurts is something a lot of people are guilty of. Verbal abuse can be in many forms, whether it's in person or over the internet/texting, but it still hurts just as bad. As many as 160,000 kids stay home at any given day because they are afraid to go to school due to bullying. This number is ridiculously high and I know that by now the Beulah High School kids are probably sick of hearing it, but I still see this every day and not just one time a day. I know that everyone is guilty of hurting someone in one way or another, whether it was intentional or not. Even if you say something that you meant as a joke, some people don't take it that way and it hurts them. You may not be able to see the effects on the outside, but if you could listen to their thoughts, I'm sure you'd think twice.
My grandmother always told me, "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all." Hearing this growing up was something I never paid attention to. I mean c'mon, "stick and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." I wish that was true, too bad it's not. As I grew up and got bullied from the beginning of middle school, I've thought a lot about my words and the words other people say. Shedding as many tears as I have because of the thoughtlessness of some people, I think about what I say a lot more. This is something I wish more people would do with both words and actions.
You weren't put on this planet to make someone else's lives miserable, you were put here to make a difference whether it was a small or large way. Don't hurt someone else just because they stole your boyfriend, you're a teenager and there's plenty of time. I'm not going to tell you to completely change your life, but remember that the words you say or the actions you do can make someone else's lives not worth living. Don't think that people don't care what you say about them, because everyone does no matter how much they try to tell you different. Your world is what you make it, remember that.

National Love Your Pet Day

February 20 is Nation Love Your Pet Day! Through my 17 years of living I've had multiple animal friends; however, only five of them made a true impact on my life. When I was four years old, we adopted my cat Oreo from the old flower shop in Hazen. She was just old enough to leave her mom, and I was young enough to have fun chasing her around the house. She was a long haired feline and truly looked like an Oreo cookie with white coating the bottom of her around her neck to the top of her head and the rest of her was black. The first year we had her, she was the only pet I had, except for the huge fish bowl we had. Too bad cleaning the fish tank wasn't as fun as playing with my kitty or I might still have one. I was lucky to have her in my life for eight years.
My second best friend, a canine, is a mutt. Dodge is a black Labrador Retriever mixed with a Cocker Spaniel, and I got her when I was five. Of course, Dodge isn't the name I would've chosen, but she was only a year younger than I was so I wouldn't dare change her name. She may not have been a puppy, but she was definitely as playful and as naughty as one. We saved her from a farm out of town, they were going to put my baby to sleep, but my dad finally let me get her. Although hunting was the true reason why we got her, I know my dad, somewhere in his mind, got her for me. She's now 16 years old and shows the true meaning behind "a man's best friend."
The next pet may seem a little bit odd to some, but to me he was one of the coolest things alive! His name was Ardie, named after Uncle Ardell because he found him, and he was a turtle. I would always put him into the bathtub with some water and let him swim/crawl around. It truly was an experience to learn about how to take care of him and to actually take care of him. Before winter, when he had to hibernate, we took him down to the river and let him go. Then, I adopted Smokey the rabbit from my nephew Braydon. He was probably one of the coolest animals I've ever got to have. His light grey fur was soft and during the summer, it didn't want to stay on. Taking care of him was a bit difficult, though, because of my dad's odd obsession with a "green yard." We ended up giving him away to two little kids which broke my heart.
My very last pet you have to read about it is yet another feline. He's what I call "my evil little man." His name is Smokey and his true owner is my brother. My brother has been living with me for two years so I have gotten the "priveledge" to call him my cat. He has the Tiger Cat type of coat and it wouldn't surprise me if he was a tiger. He likes to prowl, jump, and bite. Most people call him mean, and I'm guilty of doing so, but he truly is a cat I'm enjoying getting to know. My little man is a bit hard to explain, but I can tell you that he has one fabulous personality, acts like a dog, and is playful like a kitten.
Now, for those of you who are lucky enough to spend at least some time of your life with any type of animal, celebrate the time you have with them. They can turn into a huge part of your life and become your best friends. Happy National Love Your Pet Day!!

Above the Ground and the Clouds

The anxiety of not knowing what to expect, what a horrid feeling. My mind wanders as I'm waiting in line. I watch everyone else take of their shoes and empty their pockets. I've never done this before, will I do something wrong? Did I bring something that can get me in trouble? I can feel my throat tightening by the second. It's my turn, I grab a tray and I take off my shoes and empty everything that I need to into the tray. I look up at the angry looking old man, he's glaring at all of the people waiting and I can tell he can't wait for his shift to be over. I slowly walk towards the last stop, the man tells me to put my hands up in the air and I do as he says. The three seconds that it took felt like a million years. He finally says you can go. I breathe a sigh of relief and go pick up my things. I put my shoes back on and go sit on a chair by my gate.
Now, the wait. I'm already having an anxiety attack over just going through the detectors, now I have to wait to get onto a gigantic plane that I could maybe die on. Of course, I think of the worst thing that could possibly ever happen. Why did I ever watch that stupid movie about snakes being on a plane? I'm already afraid to be on a plane, now I'm even more scared that their could be snakes! Oh no...it's time to load. I can feel my legs get weak when I stand up and put my purse on my shoulder. I lift up my back and walk towards the gate. The gate could lead to my death, or to my ultimate vacation. Hopefully the second one. The woman takes my ticket, scans it, and gives it back to me. I walk down the hallway, the short hallway felt like it was a mile long. My parents aren't very close to me, the anxiety kicks in again. I walk faster and find myself next to mom. I glare at her and she asks me what she did wrong. I tell her if she leaves me again I will start to cry. She laughs at me. What a disturbing thing to do to your child who is having an anxiety attack. I move away from her and walk next to dad, he gives me comfort by staying next to me and letting me get on the plane after mom and before him. We find our seats and we all sit. They let me sit by the window so I can stare outside while I think of how far I'll fall when the plane breaks apart.
The attendant starts to talk about safety precautions. What will save me from falling to my death? What a stupid woman to think this little tiny vest will save me. I can hear the plane start, of course the worst thing happens. Something is wrong with the plane, and we're delayed twenty minutes. I can feel it start to move and my anxiety kicks into full gear as the plane does. We're going down the runway and my throat feels as if it is closed completely. My eyes close suddenly as if they were possessed, I can feel the plane begin to go faster and faster. I feel my body lift with it and my heart begins to do a little dance and drum like it's a drummer. Then it falls back down and my panic attack travels to an all high and I begin to cry. The end.
Oh, just kidding. That never happened although I wish it ended there. The plane got higher and higher like my level of anxiety. My ears pop with a slight pain and I open my eyes to see the  ground get smaller. I yawn to get the pop away and I can hear my parents laughing. I want to slap the grin off of their faces! How could they be laughing at their child who was going to have a heart attack?!?! My parents can never seize to amaze me. I feel an odd feeling in my stomach as the plane levels out. My anxiety calms a bit as grow some comfort with this flying beast. I look out the window and I see white. The beast shakes a bit as it flies through the fluffy white clouds and my anxiety blew up like a bomb! The shaking lasts for a while and when it stops I look back outside and I can see the top of the clouds. It's so beautiful! I've always seen the bottom of the clouds which I find pretty, but the tops! They are so much more fun to look at! For the rest of the flight I look outside on and off as I take short naps. I hear the pilot say we'll be landing in Minneapolis. The plunge downward gave my stomach another funny knot that I had no joy in feeling. As we get off I can't help but to feel some sort of excitement to get onto another one. 
The walk through the Minneapolis airport was much different than the one in Bismarck. We ran through it because we were going to be late! We get to our gate, just in time. Yeah, just in time to realize that we still had an hour. We were an hour ahead in North Dakota. We sit for what feels like hours, when we finally hear we can board. My heart skips, this time not because of a bad feeling. We board back onto the plane and my eyes start to get heavy. I open my eyes and we're getting ready to land in D.C. My excitement begins to rise once again knowing that I'll see my sister for the first time in six years. It's only minutes away! When we land I can't help but to walk quickly through this treacherous maze of an airport. I never knew there could be so many floors to an airport! When we get to where we can get our bags I scan for mine and when we finally get all three of our bags my sister calls. She's here and it's time to spend a week with my sister and nephews. Something I've been waiting for for a VERY long time.
Now, I have to say that my very first plane ride was absolutely fantastic. The size of it may be scary and the possibility of crashing, although rare, is a very scary feeling. Having anxiety made this even worse for me. When we finally got into the air, I fell in love. I thought about switching my possible future from Social Worker to Flight Attendant right then and there. The feeling of being so far in the air and looking down at the ground is exhilarating. I loved flying, though the feeling of watching my nephew get his diploma was much more fun. My amazing vacation and seeing so many new things like a REAL car jam, rush hour, and museum, the White House, and just a brand new territory and city made that anxiety attack so worth it. My nephews are my life and my family is one of the biggest things in my life. Now that I've gotten my taste of a plane and the city of D.C. I cannot wait to go back and taste it all over again!

All I Have Left

You see this photograph? This is all that I have left of my mother. I don't remember her very much, after all she died when I was five years old. I grew up as an only child with my father being the only family I knew much of. I have a sister and a brother, however they're not my real family. My father got married when I was 15 years old. How he could ever love someone other than my mom is beyond my mind. His new wife, my step-mother, likes to pretend I'm her slave, she is not one to play with, she's mean and rude. I have no other family that I know of, my father never took me to see his parents or my mom's parents. He has no pictures of them in our house so I have no idea what my background is. I only know the story of my mother's death that haunts me every day of my life.

It was July 4th of 2028, my mother was 32 years old. My parents had just moved into their new house in Jacksonville, Florida, my father said it was a small house. It had three bedrooms, just in case they decided they didn't want me to be an only child,it was two stories tall, and was a light blue color with the paint chipping off in some places. The basement they left as storage considering they haven't had everything fully put into place. The upstairs had our two bedrooms, my room was small but I didn't have a lot to fill it. It was a plain room, the walls were white and the carpet was tan. I had a small bed with pink sheets and a dresser that only had three drawers. My parents' room was at the end of the hallway. Their room was a light blue and their carpet was the same color as mine. They had a big bed with dark blue sheets and two dressers that were about the same size as mine. This house was my home for only six months before the event that changed my life happened.

I was in my room getting ready for an Independence Day Party at my parents' friends house. Mike and Donna had a daughter who was a year older than me, her name is Sophie. My mom dug in my closet and found a red, white, and blue dress for me to put on. She told me how pretty I looked and kissed me on top of my head. My dad yelled from his bedroom, and my mom left me standing in my room not sure what was going on. I hear my mom yell that he had to go to the doctor, they got into an argument about going to the doctor. My dad said it was too expensive and he would be fine. I heard them close the door and then there was silence. My mom comes out of her room and tells me that my dad is sick and won't be going with.

We get into our dark blue car, she puts me in my booster seat in the back and buckles me in. She smiles to let me know everything is alright and I shouldn't worry. I smile back and she closes the door and walks around the car and gets in. She turns on the car and the radio comes to life, I can hear people talking about how cops will be out tonight keeping the town safe from possible drunk drivers. My mom turns off the radio and drives out of the driveway. It's not very bright out, but the street lights allow me to see the ocean. Our house was close to the water, but I can't swim very well so I'm not allowed to swim in there unless my parents are with me. Due to the fact that we just moved in, we haven't had much time for "playing around" as my dad called it. My eyes start to close as we drive farther and father from my house, but closer and closer to Jacksonville Beach where Mike and Donna owned a beach house. It's a tan colored house with a sliding door facing the ocean. The door leads to a white deck with beach chairs and a few small tables. The steps are to the side of the deck and lead to the beach where we will be shooting off our fireworks, along with watching everyone else's.

I hear a door shut and my eyes open up, I look and see we're finally here! My mom wearing a light-blue dress with black sandals and her hair is up in a bun like it normally is. She has sunglasses on that make her face look like a bug. She opens the door and helps me out of the car. I see Sophie sitting on a chair and I run up to her. She's wearing a white dress and she doesn't have any shoes on. I can tell her mom did her hair because it's up in a ponytail with a flower in it. Sophie can't do her hair very well, and when she does it never looks as nice as when her mom does it for her. She says hi and we go into her house. The inside is beautiful. It's an open house with a tall ceiling. To the right there's the kitchen which is bigger than my room. When you walk in there's a living room with a couch and two chairs facing a huge flat screen TV ahead of you. To the left there's a stair case going to the upper level where the rooms are at. She takes me up the steps and into her room. Her room is three times the size of mine. She has a walk in closet, a huge dollhouse, a king sized bed, and as many toys as a toy store. We play together for a little while, then we here her mother yelling our names. We walk downstairs and Donna says hi to me. I smile and say hello back. We lay back and watch what feels like 1,000 different fireworks. My mother comes up and tells me it's time to go. I beg to stay, but she says I can't and I have to go home tonight. I whine about it the whole way to the car, and what happens next, isn't in my memory fully. However, it changed my life completely.

It was dark outside and the moon was glowing of the lake. I asked my mom how long it'd be till we get home. She looked at me and told me it'd be about 15 minutes. My mom looks ahead and screams. I look ahead and I see two bright lights right in front of me. My mom swerves to miss the semi coming towards us. It hits the front of the car and I see black. The next thing I know, I'm in a hospital. My dad is talking to who I assume is my doctor. I let the word dad slip out of my mouth. It sounded quiet and hoarse. He turns towards me and rushes to the side of my bed. The doctor asks how I feel, and instead of answering I switched the subject to what happened. The doctor explained the events. As soon as he finished I asked him where my mom was. He looks at my dad and tells him he'll be back in a couple of minutes. He turns to leave and he closes the door. My dad looks at me, and I can see tears starting to form in his eyes. I may have been young, but I knew something was seriously wrong. I've never seen my dad cry, I grab his hand and he looks up at me. He tells me that the driver only hit her side and that I almost died. He wipes the tears from his eyes, the room is silent. The only thing you can hear is my heart monitor beeping. I ask him again what happened. He looks back up at me, and says the five words I've never wanted to hear...

"Daviney, your mother is dead."