I was so excited to try out for basketball. Walking into the gym Freshman year, I felt many emotions at once. This was the sport I loved. I made varsity. Then in the practice before the first scrimmage it happened. We were in a defensive drill and suddenly my arm felt ripped in half yet still attached to my body. I fell to the ground. I got up, trying to finish practice. I didn’t want to admit to myself that something was wrong, so I tried to block it out until I couldn’t.

In the following weeks, I went from doctor to doctor until they sent me for an MRI. I learned I had torn my shoulder and needed surgery. I started bawling. I wanted to play basketball so much, and I finally got to where I was supposed to be, and then this happened to me? It felt like a nightmare. We decided to have the surgery, which seemed like the logical choice, right? Well, that's what we thought. My mom took me to the hospital while my dad got things at home all ready for me. Nurses rolled me into the OR. The lights shining into my eyes, the smell of cleaner--you could say it was “as seen on TV.” They put a mask on me, that was the last thing I remember.

After, when we got home, my dad was waiting for me with everything I needed and a place for me on my favorite spot on the couch. The recovery process began: aches, pains, needles. Not even two days later, I started Physical Therapy.  Five months went by, and I was not getting better, so we went to the doctor. He told us it was fine, but I knew it wasn't. We asked for a second opinion. That doctor said that he could not tell what was wrong until he went in there. My face dropped. Another surgery? Again? No, no.

I checked into the hospital. They hooked me up to all the wires and IVs, it felt like deja vu. When I woke up, the doctor told us that I had tore my shoulder again. There were good and bad days.  Eventually, it hurt less and less. I started getting stronger and stronger, and I was able to do things that I was not able to do before. It felt amazing. Finally, I was able to move my shoulder without any pain.

I felt like I was finally there until I wasn’t. I went back to the doctor, and he said that the shoulder he had operated on was doing great, but the other wasn’t. Another MRI found I had torn my other shoulder from overusing it, which meant another surgery. I was devastated. Not only have I not been playing basketball throughout this whole time, but I have been going to practices and games watching from the sidelines. Now, I would need to wait even longer to play. Everything was so overwhelming. It felt like I was in a dream running from something yet my feet couldn’t move.

Recovering, this time, was more challenging mentally and physically. I was drained from all the surgeries and appointments. The aches and pains felt ten times worse. Yet, a small bit of hope helped me push through. A couple of months later, I started getting better.

The day I was finally cleared was the best of my life. The doctor did his check-up. As soon as he was done I asked, “So can I play?” He responded,” I  don’t see any reason why not.” I told the people at PT and they were just as excited as I was. These people have gotten me through one of the toughest times in my life.

The first time I stepped back on a basketball court was only a couple of weeks ago. It was the best feeling in the world. Being able to shoot a basketball was a big milestone. Sweating and being sore felt amazing, something that some may take for granted. Playing with my friends gave me a sense of accomplishment. I did it. I overcame the obstacle that knocked me down, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without everyone who helped me along the way.

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