Menu
From adversity to a new life
"I, Anthony, take thee, Rica, as my lawfully wedded wife..."
The gentle summer breeze brushed across the young woman's face, temporarily keeping the locks of hair from covering one eye. She didn't give it a moment's thought as she stood transfixed, her attention focused on the young man standing in front of her. Despite the obvious nervousness, she smiled from time to time as the ceremony continued.
"With this ring, I thee wed..."
As she accepted the gold band, it seemed that life had started over again for Rica Snoey. The exchange of vows and passing of rings meant more than sharing her life with the man she loves. It meant living without fear and pain. It was a rebirth of body and soul -- the end of shattered dreams and skepticism and the start of optimism and hope.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife..."
As Rica and Anthony Erwin walked down the aisle past their family and friends, their wedding Sept. 1 marked another milestone in her life.
You see, she wasn't expected to make it to her wedding day. In fact, doctors expected her to maybe live long enough to see her second birthday.
When she was just three months old, Rica was diagnosed with Chronic Severe Congenital Neutropenia, a rare blood disorder affecting approximately one out of every 100,000 people in the United States. It kills 75 percent of afflicted newborns by their first birthday.
"It was a million to one chance... that she was going to live," said Eric Snoey, her father. This fact prompted the family to throw her a birthday party when she was six months old as they wondered if she'd make it to the one-year mark.
"Every day of having her here was a blessing," her father added. "We did all we could for Rica. It felt like the whole community was taking care of her all of her life."
For over 20 years, Rica fought the odds -- and beat them -- every step of the way.
"It got hard a lot of times. It was nerve racking," Rica said. "The doctors told me that I'd never make it this far."
In addition to her family's love and support, Rica drew strength from Anthony, who she met in 2007 as they attended classes at Richard McKenna Charter High School.
"I sat behind her in one of our classes," Anthony said. "We started talking one day and really hit it off."
"He was really shy," Rica added. "I'd talk to him and he'd started laughing and would blush. So I'd just talk to him just to get him to laugh and blush."
By that summer, the two started dating and fell in love. After graduating in 2009, Anthony started his journey as a soldier in the U.S. Army.
Rica, meanwhile, began her own journey on the road to recovery. Fighting the life-long disease meant a transfusion of bone marrow. Tests last year proved her brother, Jared, was the best possible match.
In January, she took her fight to the University of Michigan Comprehensive Cancer Center in Ann Arbor -- home to the nation's leading experts in fighting the rare condition. Even then, doctors didn't hold out much hope for her survival.
Her initial "super-intensive" chemotherapy and radiation treatments pumped far more medication through her veins than most cancer patients receive and led to multiple complications and long-lasting side effects.
"I don't know how anybody could do this," Rica said. In addition to losing her hair and sense of taste, she lost her finger nails and toe nails.
"It was saddening. She had become so fragile," said Nathan Snoey, her youngest brother.
Rica's first major setback happened a few days into the treatment when she suffered a stroke-like seizure triggered by the combination of multiple medications she needed. Jared still remembers that evening.
"Mom called and said that she would be late and that there was 'something wrong' with Rica," the teen said. Their mother did her best to hide what had actually happened.
"That day was very hard to go through as were many of the others," added Amanda Snoey-Holladay, her mother.
Fear and uncertainty became the norm over the past several months as the family waited, hoped and prayed for Rica while her fiance served his first tour of duty in Iraq.
"I'd contact her about every other day," Anthony added, but it wasn't always easy. Many times, he'd remain out of contact with her for up to three weeks at a time during his extended patrols across western Iraq.
Against all probabilities, Rica continued to recover and reached a milestone of sorts March 2 when doctors released her from the hospital in Ann Arbor but made her stay close by just in case.
"It was exciting for all of us," Nathan said. "She was feeling a lot better, so we went out for dinner, watched a movie and had ice cream."
For Nathan, it was the first normal day the family had seen in a very long time.
However, his sister's condition remained fragile. Rica ended up back in the hospital three weeks later when her blood platelet levels dropped too low. After that, another problem surfaced when a blood clot developed in her jugular vein.
More than seven months after she started the life-saving treatment, Rica returned to Mountain Home to reunite with the rest of her family. Andrew returned from Iraq a few days later.
"I'm glad it's over," Jared said. "I'm very glad that I did it... to give my sister one more chance."
For Jared, it also means never having to watch his sister receive daily injections of medication into her stomach to boost her immune system.
Despite her progress to date, she still needs another 12 to 18 months before she fully recovers from the treatment that purged her body of the crippling ailment.
"The best thing was for me to calm down and appreciate life," Rica said. "I also got a lot closer to my family because of this."
With her dreams of a second chance at life coming true, she hopes to focus soon on her next dream -- becoming a doctor. She sees herself serving as an emergency room physician in a few years and eventually going on to serve with international organizations like the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders. It's her way of giving back to the countless doctors and nurses that helped her live once again.
"All of the dreams that she never thought she could do have now become open to her," Amanda said. "Now she's become the butterfly -- a new start."