Faded Scars Essay Sample

On October 15, 2021, I tore just about everything possible in my knee.

It started in the afternoon on a Friday. School was off for the day for the end of the first quarter of the school year. We always lifted in the morning on days that we did not have school but still had a game. There was something about those game-day lifts that just got the team going. We had a good lift that morning and we went home. I did my usual pre-game ritual where I lay in bed and watch a football movie and go over the film.

I was nervous, butterflies in my stomach. It would be my first ever varsity start. I had to start this game because one of our starting linebackers was out for the game. My name was next in line on the depth chart. I knew that I had to perform and do everything like I had practiced before.

It was against Plattsmouth, our last home game of the fall football season. Plattsmouth went into the game undefeated, one of the top teams in Class B in Nebraska. We knew that it would be a tough game. The night was cool, and we were wearing our pink jerseys for our pink-out game, supporting breast cancer awareness. The high school student section would be fairly full, with lots of pink surrounding it. I arrived at the school at the usual time we were supposed to be there. I got ready and headed to the weight room where we would talk and get our minds right before we went out to warm up. Once we were done with our traditional pre-game routine, we went back into the weight room to get our minds right and get mentally ready for the game.

We got back on the field, just moments before kickoff. We did a little bit more of our pre-game and stood on the goal line for the playing of the national anthem, signaling that the game would start in just a couple of minutes.

Throughout the game, I was playing my butt off. I was playing on pure adrenaline and the nerves started to wear off a few plays into the game. I had racked up a few tackles and I was playing one the best defensive games I had ever played in my football career.

We entered the fourth quarter down 26-14. We still had a chance but we could not get it done on the offensive side. We were struggling and could not seem to get the ball into the endzone. The other team had been in a different formation all game, one that I was not really familiar with. It came down to the last play of the game, and Plattsmouth was in a different formation that I did not recognize.

I do not remember if we got a play in from the sideline, but when the ball was snapped, the ball went on the ground. It was a terrible snap. My aggressiveness showed, and I went after the ball, trying to make a play with only a little bit of time left. I would soon regret going after that football on the ground that the quarterback had to get down to pick up.

After getting through Plattsmouth’s offensive line, I was hit from my left side. I had not seen their sniffer, wingback, or whatever he was.

After being hit from my left, I planted my right foot in the ground to stop myself from going down. I felt a snap, a pop, a shock running through my whole body. A gunshot was heard inside my head.

The next thing I knew I was lying on the ground, screaming bloody mary in pain, holding my knee. Curse words coming out of my mouth. Right at that moment I knew that something was torn. I did not know what it was, but it hurt like crazy to even move my leg.

It was the last play of the game. The time on the clock was out. I was helped off of the field and onto the bench. I recall sitting on the bench and counting on my fingers the amount of months left until baseball season started. The trainer looked at my knee, but he said that I sprained something. I thought to myself, “Hell no. I did not just sprain something.”

I was helped into the bed of the gator. I was in so much pain when some of my teammates tried helping me into the bed. I could not lift my leg on my own power, and it was like torture for someone to lift my leg for me.

I was sobbing. When being driven off of the field and to the school, I was looking back at my family, friends, and teammates. I could see the sorrow in their eyes, along with pain.

We got to the school and I was placed into a wheelchair and wheeled into the training room. I was helped onto the training table. My knee was already ginormous with swelling. In the training room, the trainer could look at my knee more thoroughly. There he recommended that we go to a sports clinic in the morning.

My teammates helped me shower and change when I got back to the locker room. After that, I remember being helped into the backseat of my dad’s truck. That was the worst pain I had experienced since the injury. The next morning, we went to the Saturday morning sports clinic at Nebraska Orthopedic. I got an x-ray done and would have to wait until Monday to get an MRI. I was also given a stable knee brace that did not make my knee hurt as bad when it was moved.

The doctor there, Dr. Harris, thought that I had just torn my patellar tendon because of my inability to lift my leg on my own power. Also, you could feel right below my right kneecap and feel that there was no tendon intact there like there was on my other knee. We had scheduled surgery for my knee for Thursday, October 21, 2021.

On Monday, my mom drove me back up to Nebraska Orthopedic to get an MRI. It was the first time that I had ever gotten an MRI, so I did not know what to expect. We would have to wait a day for the results to get back to us.

On Tuesday, October 19th, I was at home alone because my parents both had to work. I was sitting on the couch upstairs when my mom came home. It was about 11 in the morning. I had not expected her to come home. I thought that she would just call me when the results of my MRI came in.

It was the worst news of my life. My mother explained to me that I had torn my ACL, MCL, lateral meniscus, and my patellar tendon. I could hear the pain in her voice. I could even see tears in her eyes. She told me that it would be a very long recovery, maybe even lasting a whole year. I thought to myself that I can not afford to be out a whole year from athletics.     

When my mom left to go back to work, I hobbled my way downstairs and went and laid in my bed and sobbed. Rivers were running down my eyes.

I can not remember how the next couple of days before surgery went except for visits from friends and family.

Surgery day came and I was as scared as I had ever been before. It was not my first ever surgery. I had my tonsils removed when I was 4 or 5, but I could not remember that much.

We sat in the waiting room at the surgery center right outside of St. Elizabeth Hospital for a while. I got called back to the pre-surgery room where I would have to put a gown on, a long stocking on my left leg, and have to get my whole right leg shaved. There they also put an IV in the back of my right hand and put a nerve block in my right groin. It came time to head into the surgery room. I said my good-bye’s to my parents. I don’t remember much about the surgery room, but I remember how they put me to sleep. They told me to take three deep breaths. I was out by the second breath. Later my mom would tell me that anesthesiologists say things like that so your body does not try to fight the anesthesia. I woke up in a recliner in a post-surgery room. It had been a two hour surgery. I was told that it was hard for the doctors to get my pain under control. I do not remember much about the rest of the night. I only have a few small memories. All I know is that I was in pain.

The next couple of days after surgery, the pain was unbearable. I had to have ice constantly on my knee for the pain to be at least somewhat bearable. The painkillers I had been prescribed did not work very well after the nerve block wore off. It wasn’t until the end of the third day after surgery that the pain would finally start to clear up. The third day was also when I stopped taking the painkillers. I had promised myself that as soon as I could, I would not take them anymore.

The recovery process began immediately after surgery. I had my first physical therapy appointment only 5 days post surgery. Since then, I have been going to physical therapy 2-3 times a week.

It has been a long recovery process, too long for my liking. To mine and everyone else’s surprise, I have moved along much quicker than expected. 6 months post surgery, I am getting closer and closer by the week.

I have started to jog again and do lots of weight training to strengthen my quad. I have even been catching bullpens in baseball for a couple of weeks now. I still have a long road ahead of me, but I am happy with my progress.

This has been the worst 6 months of my life, but I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. To me, this has been a scarring (literally) experience. I hope that I never have to go through something like this again. I wish that no one has to go through this type of injury. It has truly been a very big part of my life, even though it has been such a small time frame compared to the rest of my life.