I Am An Athlete

I am an athlete. I am strong and fast and ready for physical challenges just as much as I am for the mental trials of school. Being athletic has always been an important part of who I am, from elementary school soccer to middle school cross country to high school and hockey. My achievements in this field have always made me deeply proud. Any challenge I faced I did head on. No matter the cost. So on May 11, 2014 when I found myself hardly able to walk to the office on a knee that burned with pain, I was finally faced with a challenge that I couldn’t walk off. And the cause was a microscopic kiddie slide far too small for me and a terrible decision. Being claustrophobic has never been good for me. The fear has plagued me for years. What I was thinking when I went down that slide I have no idea. All I remember from that chunk of time was my legs catching on the plastic and being shoved into my chest, effectively wedging me into the tiny space. I remember the walls closing in and tears stinging in my eyes and then one of the worst pains I have ever felt rip through my leg. My friend who was there trying to get me out later told me that I was screaming, and then suddenly I was really screaming. I remember waking up in the shade of that very same slide, a lunch monitor crouching beside me and my friends standing back fearfully.

I remember those weeks laying in bed, looking out the window and watching the world pass me by. That was torture, in one of its worst forms. I spent eight weeks alone, struggling to move to the kitchen, to the bathroom, to sleep. When it was finally time for physical therapy, I couldn’t have been more ecstatic. The feeling of working and stretching and sweating again after such an experience is indescribable. I felt a rush that I had never appreciated before. I was home, really home, in my own skin for the first time in