Back Brace Research Paper

I stared at the pink back brace I wrapped tightly around my body for eighteen hours every day. Eighteen hours, trapped in a small space, with barely enough room to take a deep breath. Following each movement, the brace creaked as plastic rubbed against plastic. My neck ached as the brace lifted my shoulder up in order to “over-correct” my scoliosis, forcing my spine to the left. The skin on my back was cut where the brace dug too deeply into my skin, the protective undershirt not providing a tough enough barrier. I no longer had the freedom to move. I was confined in a small, pink cylinder with no escape. My body ached as my spine was pushed to a place it did not want to go, and I tried everything to hide my body and my brace. My eyes began to water as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My natural waist line was contorted to an unnatural size, and my shoulders became uneven. My mom handed me her shirt to try on, hoping it would cover the brace. I slid it over my head, and suddenly my entire body was gone, enveloped by a shirt two sizes too big. Yet the flaws were
I do not want to receive the attention of people who are judging me just because I have to wear a back brace; A choice not made by me. But as I think more, I realize this is the only choice forced upon me. I am given the same choices most others are, the only thing the back brace does, is make my choices easier.
I controlled my tears and thanked my mom for her comfort. The back of my hand wiped the water off my tear-strewn face, and I stood up, leaving her clothes and walked back into my room. I thrust my hand into my drawer and grabbed my favorite shirts. I stared at them and a smile broke across my face. For the first time since I had recieved my brace, I felt confident wearing a shirt that may be sleeveless or may not be super long. I finally felt comfortable not only in my own skin, but the piece of plastic I wear over