Personal Narrative: Decisions That Come With Incisions

As a smaller player on the field, most of the time my ankles were getting assaulted by kids one-and-a-half times my size. Fortunately, two consecutive years included a nasty ankle injury for me. Thanks to other players, soccer had the opportunity to reteach me. The first injury occurred between eighth and ninth grade, right before I moved up to high school soccer. I was playing indoor soccer between outdoor seasons, since my friends from school made a team, and during one fateful game, I jumped to head the ball before an opposing player could and ended up drawing the short end of the stick in the ordeal. I was successful in reaching the ball first, but he decided to push me just before I landed, causing me to plant my right foot improperly on the ground and place my full weight on the side of my foot. There was an immediate pop. It felt as if my foot detached and I was standing on the bare nub of my ankle. There was blinding pain, yet no pain at all. Just pin-pricks of blood flowing furiously. Before anyone could ask why I was limping, I was off the field and icing my ankle. After a late night visit to the emergency room when the swelling continued to grow and I could no longer put any pressure on my foot, it was discovered that I had a high ankle sprain. The doctors ordered me to wear an air-cast for the following two to three months with a strict ban on running, along with minimal walking to get to class only – patience is a virtue. However, the following season I managed to hurt the same ankle all over again during practice. While going to shoot the ball, I had the unfortunate circumstance of a defender trying to clear the ball at the same moment. Our feet hit the ball at the exact same time, and the earth-shattering force of contact left both of us on the ground holding our ankles as the pain throbbed each time blood pumped through our injured veins. At this point, I

Everyone quickly turned their heads as soon as they heard the agonizing scream of pain. The scream was long and high pitched and it spread through the ears of everyone within distance. In confusion, they all ran in the direction of the scream, huddling around a blonde haired girl with her hands wrapped around her knee. There were oodles of whispers about what was happening, but nobody had a complete grasp on the situation. Dazed and dismayed, I was the girl in the purple leggings and everyone was staring at me wondering why I was lying in the sand screaming and crying. Soon, adults and doctors were hovering me asking questions that I just couldn’t answer. I wasn’t aware of how it happened, I only knew how excruciating my pain was. My kneecap was sticking out of the side of my right leg and due to that, I felt overwhelmed and panicked. My eyes couldn’t move from my knee despite how unbearable it was to lay my eyes on. I never imagined I would have knee problems again after already having 2 surgeries on my left knee. The feeling was so devastating, I have injured myself once again and the pain was not yet over.

I was able to hear my mom freaking out, my coach yelling at the ref for the illegal tackle, and my teammates coming over to help with looks for terror on their faces; but, I was too absorbed in this to fully understand what had happened. As a result, amid the confusion, I remember standing back up and walking normally back to the sideline as if nothing had happened. I wore a smile as my nerves caught on fire and I started to over analyze every sensation surrounding my leg internally. I remember feeling the grass burn on my opposite shin and thinking that it couldn’t be too severe if that hurt more. I remember thinking that I couldn’t possibly have this severe of an injury. Not after consistently training for soccer and basketball. Not after finally getting recognition for both by colleges. Anytime I revisit the memory, I tend to review multiple different times throughout the course of the injury and recovery process. I first come to the exact moment the injury

One morning I asked my surgeon/author friend to describe how he prepared for each surgery. He went on to explain how he filled out a “menu” of the surgical instruments he would need, which varied depending on the type of surgery he was about to perform. He would put a check mark next to numerous scalpels and other items (which I wouldn’t know what to call) and then turn in his menu. When he entered the operating room, he’d find his requested instruments and accessories neatly lined up waiting for him. With those specific tools, he could perform his surgery efficiently, competently, and confidently.

The summer before second grade I hit my head against the padded seat of a bumper car. I started bawling even though I hadn't hit my head that hard. This was the first warning sign.

As she grabbed my hand, my hand twisted around, and after a second, at least what it felt like, you could hear an annoying voice of a baby crying, except this wasn’t for a toy, this was pain. My parents rushed me to the hospital emergency care, what it felt like was less than a minute. The doctor said we have to do an x-ray before we can determine anything. After a while, the doctor replied in a shocking treatment. The doctor said, “ I will try to twist his hand back, but if it doesn’t work it will need surgery.” He started to twist my hand. I could feel a surge of pain strike through my body, but then it was over, my hand was back.

Consequently, I had tripped elbow and knee first. I had taken the hardest, most painful fall I probably have ever had. I was in so much pain I didn’t want to move an inch. My siblings then came to a halt

he wrapping paper is red with snowmen. The Christmas tree is shining brightly. I rip the package open quickly, scraps flying everywhere. It is the doctor’s playset I have wished for all year. Finally it is in front of my eyes and in my hands.

Listening to Aspen’s light snores , I placed her on the cushioned bench placed in the hospital ‘s room which had sadly became our newfound home for a course of three long , dreary months since the horrible , life changing incident took place suddenly .

The scar running down my back is a reminder of the challenges I had faced. The wound is carved from the bottom of my neck and ends at the middle of my spine. It tells a story about my difficult journey and it symbolizes life learning lessons that I learned along the way.

A few minutes later a bus pulls up and the teams file out of them. Ms.Nino gives us our positions; I was to play in the second half of the game as forward. The game started and by the second half we were neck and neck. The ref blew the whistle for halftime and I was thrown in. This would be our second game, Emma and I were the focus of who would score what goal. I ran out and switched places with Marina. We had exactly one minute until the game started. ‘Deep breaths’ I thought. The whistle was blown and Emma passed the ball to me. The ball was passed to me and I was suddenly on the ground. The moment went in slow motion. In that instant my whole life would be changed. The sun was just beginning to set and the weather was perfect, the rest of the players moved passed me towards the ball. In that moment I looked down at my leg and screamed. My knee looked like something was trying to crawl out of my skin. The knee-cap had popped out of socket dislocating my knee. I didn’t know I could scream like that; nor did anyone else. The game was put on pause and my dad walked out onto the field in total calm. My dad had played rugby in his early years of college and had dealt with many injuries like this. He rolled me on my back and pulled my heel causing it to pop back into place. I couldn’t walk or even stand so I was carried to the sideline. I was sat in a chair with an icepack. Everyone on the girls soccer team was crying. Emma thought it had been her fault and I think everyone else was just freaked out. I wasn’t crying; a wave of harmoniousness had washed over me. It was as if nothing had happened and I hadn’t dislocated my knee. The game started again and I was in a haze, I watched without watching diving into my thoughts. Then all at once and harshly, the shock hit me. I began sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. A few people came to talk to me to try to make me feel better but I don’t remember what I said; I was more focused on

I have strong communication skills, both written and verbal, which I have gained throughout my working career and studies.

It was not until several days later when I received the somber revelation of my plight. The orthopedist ambled into the examination room and sat down upon a stool. I nodded and smiled as he described the my situation. In short, my athletic endeavors would need to come to a hiatus. The explicit of my origin of my injury was unknown, and yet it

Throughout history, innovations have made modern life more stabilized. For me, the past represents a learning process that led us to the growth of today, which is evident through The Civil Rights Movement, the medical advancements and the evolution of the churches.

I see patterns, textures, and nature. At five years old, I decide that I will grow up to be an artist. Traveling a path that is filled with curiosity and discovery, I encounter a bump in the path: learning to read. I discover that when an obstacle is thrown in my path I don’t give up but instead learn to conquer and overcome. I realize that I am tenacious, that I can think outside of the box, and that there are many ways to accomplish a goal. Although I will always have a love for the arts, I become interested in numbers, logic, and “the way things work”. Then unexpectedly: