February 4th, 2022.
The hospital room is tense, I’m tense. I lay in a bed with the hospital gown, absolutely unprepared. My heart beats faster, the nurse looking at me with sympathy, my face feels heavy. The drug calms my body, but not my mind. The hours feel like minutes. Before I truly know what’s happened, I’m wheeled back.
The air is cold, their hands are cold. “Count down from 10 with me.”
10, I’m freaking out.
Nine, my IV is touched, I look to see the anesthesiologist.
Seven.
Three.
Sting.
The doctor comes back with a wheelchair, the door swings open and I’m asked to sit down. “Where am I going?”-“X-ray room.” My heart drops. The X-ray room, why? There’s no way I broke it..right?
I was wrong.
The smell of rubbing alcohol stung my nose as I tried to not freak out under the uncomfortable lead vest. The scan moves down my leg, taking a picture. The doctor makes an audible hum, the scanner moves, his face changing with every picture. I’m wheeled back to my mom. “She has a fracture,” I felt my heart falling deep into my stomach. “I would recommend surgery.”
I snap back to reality.
My healing journey has gone on for almost three years now, and with my injury many underlying health conditions as well.
I found out I was vitamin D, Iron and calcium deficient.
I was put onto D3 and K2 supplements as quickly as I saw the orthopedic doctor.
Months go by before my second appointment. The results were always negative, no bone growth, so we cast. It was a cycle. Uncomfortable cast-off, no growth, recast, more supplements, no fun whatsoever. I missed my spring soccer season my first year with my injury, occasionally coming to support my team if I could even crutch my way onto the damp grass fields. Sitting on the bench I’d always find myself feeling left out, not purposefully. This wasn’t my fault. I’d sit and watch and wish I was playing, my stomach would always ache doing it. I wanted to be out there
I wanted to walk this off.
From cast to boot, I finished my 8th grade year on crutches. Making a recovery by August of the next school year just in time for volleyball. I realized that the new found screw in my foot, it really limited my mobility, and tryouts came with excitement. I made the team and practice started fast. Monday through Friday. Monday to Thursday from 3-6, Fridays 6:00 a.m. practice. The fun didn’t last for long, I felt myself becoming incredibly exhausted, having to ice my foot after games and practices, and sometimes having to sit out.
What was wrong with me? This is what I wanted and it looked like I wasn’t putting forth any effort.
I looked sloppy.
Sloppy, I looked sloppy. I continuously questioned myself and my own athletic ability, my drive. If I can’t even run for the ball, what good am I for the team?
Why even play at all?
Three appointments later I’m released, my bone not fully healed. Me, not confident in my own healing abilities. I was finally ready to get back on my feet.
Crack.
“You re-opened the fracture.” My doctor says, he looks at me with a sort of irony. All of my work for nothing, what am I doing here again? All of the negativity finding its way back to me, eating me alive. I left the office quiet, I had no words to say. That’s it, I think to myself. I missed soccer in the spring of my freshman year, now I’m going to miss volleyball my sophomore year. What am I doing, if I’m not playing sports what am I good for? The negativity associated with this fracture ruined my perspective on myself, I constantly doubted my drive, my abilities and my work ethic. I felt sloppy, I felt lazy. I wanted to walk it off.
I can’t just walk this off, walking hasn’t helped. I learned that my negativity was keeping my health from coming back together. If I was gonna walk it off, it would take one step at a time.
