ACL Tear, 2004, by Caitlin Carpenter

From MemoryArchive

Who:Caitlin C
What:ACL Tear
When:2004
Where:HIgh School Gym

Let me give you some advice--keep your eye on the ball.

The point guard is dribbling down the court with eleven seconds left on the clock. She is quickly pressured by the opposing team’s defense and throws the ball. I see it coming at me out of the corner of my eye, but I'm running forward. I stop too quickly and rotate my body to catch the ball, and I feel it. It felt like my knee cap had slid to the side of my knee, and I drop to the floor screaming in agony.

I lay on the floor rolling around screaming out, “MY KNEE, MY KNEE!” My coach rushes over and immediately tells me to calm down and stop yelling. The trainer comes into my view next. He asks me questions, but due to the fears running through my mind I do not remember responding or hearing any of them. I finally look down at my knee and relief sets in…my knee cap is still where it was the last time I had looked at, in place. It feels like I was laying there for eternity, but in reality it was only a minute or two. The trainer and a long time friend of the family lifts me up off the floor and carries me to the trainer’s room.

I lay on what seemed to be an operating table in the training facility. Jay, the trainer, starts running tests on my knee. By this time I had calmed down and was feeling much better. He would tug, shove, a squeeze my knee to test all the tendons that surround the knee area. I remember how cold his hands felt on my warm, swollen knee. He told in a serious tone that he wasn’t 100% sure, but he thought my tendons felt as though they were still there. Of course he sent me to the doctors to get another professional’s opinion.

I sit on yet another table that feels like operations are performed on. The doctor comes in shakes my hand and repeats the tests Jay did on my knee. It takes him no longer than 30 seconds to figure out that my ACL is torn, quickly my mind races. I start thinking about track season, which I would miss, and volleyball, which is my love. The doctor leaves the room and my hot tears stream down my face. My parents just sit there, because they know how crushed I was. They too were sad that I was going to miss out on sports. I look at them and say, “Can we go home.” I was too angry to sit there and be told how long it would be until I was back and all the pain I was about to endure through rehabilitation.

If only I would have kept my eye on the ball.