Waking up.

7:50 A.M. I hear the nurses voice, "She needs to take these when she wakes up." she is saying. "Ok" my parents reply. I try to open my eyes, but they feel as though someone took a 5 pound weight and tied it to both my eyelids.

7:52 A.M. I force my eyes open and the first thing I see is my parents, my mom says "Hi there! How are you feeling?" I don't quite process her words… I sigh, "Can we tape my eyes open?" my parents laugh, "The nurse said to take this medicine." mom says.

7:54 A.M. The nurse walks in, "Ok sweetie, your need to take you medicine, what would you like with it. Crackers?", "yes please" I reply.

7:56 A.M. I take my pill, and begin to munch on my crackers… in a very odd and childish way due to the meds, "These crackers taste funny…" I say after eating a couple. My mom and dad both take small bites, "Oh gross!" mom says, "You're right!" my mom calls the nurse in and tells her that there is something wrong with them.

7:58 A.M. The nurse returns with graham crackers, my favorite, I begin to munch happily on them, drink some more water… and say, "I want to leave now."

8:00 My mom begins to help me dress, but to my mom's chagrin, I brought the wrong pair of sweat pants, and I am already in both my medical boots, my sweat pants have elastic at the feet. we force them halfway on, but can't get them over the boots. The nurse comes in, "Should I get some scrubs?" she asks, "Yes." my mom replies.

8:06 A.M. The nurse walks in with and mens XXL pair of scrubs, they still don't fit over my boots… the nurse pulls out a scissors… "We'll cut them." She says.

8:08 A.M. My pants are on, I am being rolled down the hallway to a door that leads to my car, that will take me home, my dad gets out of the car and picks me up and sets me in the back seat. I spread out on the seat with my blanket and my pillow. I begin to feel sick, "Great." I think.

9:00 A.M. we pull into the driveway. I get out of the car, I cant feel my feet, I walk on my crutches to the stairs, "I can do this," I say to my parents, "Just give me a sec."… I attempt to walk up the stairs… Very bad idea.

9:02 A.M. My dad carries me up the stairs to my room, lies me down on my bed, I fall asleep

11:00 A.M. I wake up, and my mom comes in, "would you like some pancakes?", I say yes, my dad brings me 2 pancakes and some bacon "Here you go hun!" I begin to eat.

11:25 A.M. I fall asleep.

11:50 A.M. I wake up, update my Facebook status. My parents come in and talk to me for a little bit.

12:00 P.M. I fall asleep.

12:30 P.M. I wake up and my parents come in to check on me. I am uncomfortable lying on my back but there is no other way to do it. I have to go to the bathroom…. but I can't walk, my dad carries me and puts me down.

12:45 P.M. after going to the bathroom and snacking on crackers and talking to my parents they leave so I can go back to sleep.

12:50 P.M. I look down at my feet… I begin to cry… I fall asleep.

The Nightmare

4:45 A.M. I wake up on Tuesday, March 15th. I shower, brush my teeth, and am careful not to swallow any liquids or toothpaste.

5:15 A.M. my big sister, my hero, hands me a letter before I get into the car with my pillow and blanket, "Don't read it 'til you are on the road…" she says… Fair enough. I have a feeling it will make me cry, and I don't want to…not yet.

5:30 A.M. I gather up my wits and open her letter, the first thing I read, "Psalm 61". The last things I read, "Everyone is in your life for a reason…You are so strong…I love you".

5:35 A.M. I begin to cry.

6:00 A.M. my parents and I walk into the surgical center…forced to wait in the waiting room, not having eaten for a while… I stare at the vending machine. "delightful" I think.

6:15 A.M. the nurse calls me to come with her, behind those doors that are only intimidating when you are a patient, I am forced to go with her by myself, without my parents, the first time in my life I have been scared to leave them in a hospital.

6:30 A.M. I'm lying in a roller bed, in a hospital gown to big that countless people have worn before, (but I tried not to think about that) my parents come back to see me, I begin to panic.

6:35 A.M. the nurse tells me to relax and she ties a rubber band around my upper arm so she can get a better shot at the vein she will insert my IV into.

6:36 A.M. I see the needle… I look at my dad, I take his hand, and start to cry, I feel a prick, cry even harder, squeeze my dad's hand as I hear his soothing voice say "You're OK, every thing's gonna be fine." I feign a smile.

6:37 A.M. I turn to my mom sitting on my other side, "See this tube?" she says as she points to my IV, "Once that liquid gets into your blood stream you're not going to be scared anymore." She smiles.

6:38 A.M. the nurse comes in and injects some medicine into my IV.

6:39 A.M. the Anesthesiologist comes in and walks me through the process, "Awe hunny. Don't cry! Everything is gonna be alright, you are in good hands." she says, "I am going to tell you what we are going to do before your surgery, but you won't remember any of this, in a few minutes you are going to be out. We are going to take you back to the OR…" she continues to tell me more about the process.

6:45 A.M. the doctor's intern comes in and marks my legs in an unfriendly way she says the doctor will be in shortly.

6:50 A.M. I begin to feel very fuzzy and light headed, the doctor comes in and asks if I am ready, I am not sure what my reply was.

6:55 A.M. My last medicine was injected a few minutes ago, I turn to my parents, I feel them squeeze my hand, and my mom says "I love you." I smile.

6:57 A.M. Blackout.

The Process.

So… These are the kind of things ballet schools don't teach you about…
Injury
Rehab
Recovering
 Who knows why! But they don't its plain and simple. No one taught me that it was ok to take time off to heal, no one taught me never to push thru the pain. Some how I think these things would have been very beneficial. But now I think… some would should come up with Ballet rehab. So we can get these stupid addictions fixed.


So here I am, 3 days away from a surgery that is unwelcome… but that welcomed itself anyways. The doctor is going to remove and extra bone floating in between my Achilles and my Talus, which (i have heard) is very common among dancers. But… never something you want to say you were in the majority of. No one wants surgery, no one asks for surgery… its not something that is very pleasant. I will be stuck in boots for at least… 2 weeks… Boots and crutches… nothing more exciting. I try really hard not to think about all the pain I will be in after the surgery, or the fact that I wont be able to shower for a week… or the fact that I will not be mobile, and that my parents will have to help me out of bed just so i can get to the BATHROOM… no one wants this…. And if you say you do… you are really twisted and deranged and probably should be in a white room with padded walls.
I don't like admitting my fear… but I am scared, I am soo soo scared… I would like to say that this thing isn't a big deal… that I am not worried. and I know everything will be ok, but that would just be a big fat lie… and no one likes lying. So I am trying to take everything one day at a time… But I have never felt so alone, and helpless… and scared as I do now, even though I know i don't have to do it by myself.
I will be a very lonely girl… separated from my studio and all my classmates… who are my closest friends… not even my sister will be home during the day… That is was scares me the most… Because I need people… I need movement… I need friends… they are my greatest lifeline. Because I don't want to lean on ballet anymore. It won't always be there.


So here goes my greatest fall… But I know there are plenty of people who can't wait to take my spot at the barre ;)

Time.

Sorry it has been so long since I have posted. Things have gotten stressful and hectic.
I went to another doctor at the beginning of the week. And got an x-ray. And I have an extra bone in my ankle between my Achilles and my Ankle bone. Now I know you are thinking… "Oh thats so common I hear about it all the time." it's one of those things you hear about other people having, and pray it doesn't happen to you. Because most of the time, the cure is surgery, which looks to be about the only option for me, once I get my MRI I will know. But this is what I am hearing constantly about the surgery, "Oh its quick it's easy, you will be back in no time, I know lots of people who have had it and they are fine." haha yes. But have you ever been the one whose had it? It's easy to say all those things… But it's not as easy to believe them. When you the one facing these problems. Facing the possibility of a surgery that could knock you out of it for a few months… You aren't gonna believe any encouragement thrown at you, whether good or bad, helpful or unhelpful,  out of good intention or not, it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. In fact, it just makes it scarier.

Continuation.

So, yesterday I went to physical therapy. And it's funny, because not only does my therapist do physical therapy on me, he also does mental. Which is nice. I really enjoy going to physical therapy because he doesn't say "Can't" he doesn't "Try" he just listens, and puts his 2 cents in when I ask for it. Also, I danced last night…and it was an amazing feeling…even after just 2 days of sitting out, taking class again was just a refreshment, just another nudge to keep going. Barely anytime off and I missed it that much. I kept saying to myself "Ok this is my last combination, no turns, ok this is it. No jumps!" But of course I couldn't stop my heart from wanting to dance, do I did turn and I did jump. Because what is the point on putting a leash on a Lion or a Bear or something. Hah, same as what is the point of limiting how much I dance. So all in all yesterday was a good day, tonight we have our quarterly evaluations, and everyone is nervous, I don't know what for their really not that big of a deal. But we will see how this pans out, especially because there are only 4 of us who are in our second year in Acad. 2 which is the highest level. So much of our time is dedicated to dance. It's amazing that we have normal lives, and that we don't sleep and eat at the studios, though we do sleep eat and breathe dance.

When It Unravels.

Everyone one says "keep going! Don't give up!" I say "Look at it from my perspective" Nearly a year now, without pain relief, remember when it was simple, just skipping across the floor? Remember when you first   started learning balances? Your teacher repeating "DOWN, up, down, DOWN, up down."
I do, I miss those simple days, when the only reason you danced was because it made you happy. But now it seems like there is more to dancing then just doing it to make yourself happy…you do it because you have to, because its become your OCD, everything needs to be better, everything needs to be perfect. But it shouldn't be that way, it should be just for the love of it. All dancers know this, but it is so difficult to change a mindset that is all you have known since you decided that it's what you want to do. I am trying to change the way I look at my dancing, but it will never change, in my mind it will still be horrible and probably is. But thats why I do it. Not to look horrible, but because there is always something to fix. I have found that I like fixing things…fixing friendships, fixing other peoples problems (which its probably not a good idea). I'd love to "Keep going!" but…what if I keep going, ruin my career, and have nothing left. I want to go back to the simple days. Pre-ballet, I really miss you. You started this wildfire… It can't be put out, or muted, but hopefully it can be harnessed. Life was much easier as a 4 year-old. Can we please just all go back?

Unfortunate reality of dance.

So here is the unfortunate reality, "Some day, your body is going to get back at you for beating it into perfection." for a lot of dancers this day stays away for a long time and they have great careers…but for the rest of the population this is not the case. I am in the rest of the population. Early on in 2010 I "sprained" my ankle, although, I do not remember this ever happening, x-rays and MRI don't lie, also the MRI showed that I have built up arthritis in my ankle, though this was hard for me to believe then…I see it now. This all by the way was only in my left ankle at the time. I spent the whole entire summer of 2010 at Boston Ballet's summer dance program, in and out of the doctors office in and out of the physicals therapy office… taking every class I could (which ended up being a minimum of…maybe 3 or 4 a week). Even though I had an amazing time in Boston but I realize now that all I was doing there was wasting my time and my parents money. When I got back from Boston I thought i could get better. By only taking a few classes here and there, not everyday, to keep in shape. When summer break came to an end and the fall semester and Milwaukee Ballet started up again, I knew that only a couple classes was to much, but I didn't admit it. So once again I tried to dance thru the pain, thinking…hoping and praying that it would go away. But I wasn't going to stop dancing. I wasn't going to stop trying, because all i have ever wanted to do is dance, to perform in front of an audience…to make my family proud of me. So I did. The school's version of the Nutcracker rolled around and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy, a role I couldn't turn down (but should have) it was a great experience. One I have always dreamed of, the star of the show. But it was to much for my ankle, months of physical therapy, have passes, along with 2 weeks of winter break in which I sat around the whole time, with no improvement. Ballet has started up again, and a few weeks have passed… it got better for a little while, and Wednesday of this week, everything fell apart, and now my problem is not so much my left ankle but now, my right, so much so that it hurts to walk, it hurt when I'm sitting, it even hurts when I'm asleep. my good foot my working foot, the foot that was probably the only thing keeping me going has now buckled under pressure, and s begging me to stop. And now, slowly, its eating away at my mind and heart that "even though you may love something, even though its your life, even though you might be great at it, you're not meant to. Even worse, you're not built to." Maybe I'm not meant to be a ballerina, maybe I'm not built to be, maybe I AM built to sit behind a desk for the rest of my life. Maybe its time for me to wake up from my fairytale, wake up to reality and give up my dream to dance, because it seems…that I am becoming more of a burden then a person. More of a whiner then a dancer. And that is something I don't want to see myself become. But it seems it will be more painful to  let it go then to keep at it. Maybe I'm not as tough as I thought.

This is what it's about.

       In a world where one of the top clothing designers isn't Armani but rather Yumiko Leotards, where your job is not to sit behind a desk all day and answer phone calls, but to spend your entire day in a studio sweating like crazy. In a world where rather then buying that new pair of stilettos your buying 6 new pairs of pointe shoes, where a little girls most exciting moment is not putting on lipstick for the first time but putting on a tutu for the first time. In a world where rather then being surrounded by cubicle walls you are surrounded by mirrors and barres. When you take off your pointe shoes and your feet have turned into a mass of blisters and calluses and you are proud of yourself.
When you first realize how it feels to be a princess, when you put on your pointe shoes, put stage make up on your face, and step into your pancake tutu and your prince walks you onto the stage and all eyes are on you.
      Ballet is my life, I have been dancing for 11 years now, I have never done anything else, no sports just ballet. My friends and I have a very strong bond, we are with each other every day, from 6:14-9pm and on saturdays sometimes 9:30-6. A big set back to high school dancers is often "I don't get home til 10 so I am up til 3 am doing homework." and that is the dedication of a dancer. This is just my first post, so basically I am just setting the scene of a dancers life so people understand the commitment. We dancers find it frustrating when people try to make ballet seem like such an easy thing, like there is nothing special or challenging about it, but i also think the only reason people try to make it look that way is because when they see a dancer…everything the dancer does is with gracefulness and ease. Because we strive for perfection, but just because we can do something, doesn't mean it's perfect, it means it could be much much better.