January 20th, 2015, it was a cold and dreary day. I was an energetic eighth grader, just thirteen years old. I had many passions in life, gymnastics was one of my greatest. Two months prior to this date, the gymnastics season had just begun. Due to many hours of hard work and a little natural talent, I was competing as a varsity gymnast on my high school team. I felt like I was on top of the world. Little did I know, on this cold and dreary day in January,  my life would be forever changed.

After school, on this particular day,  I went to practice. Practice began with conditioning, which seemed to be a breeze. After conditioning, the team had to move the balance beams to their proper place in the gym. There were three beams that were moved. I assisted in the movement and placing of the floor level beam, which was to sit along the far wall of the gym. The other members of my team, worked on moving the two high beams. When placed properly the high beams sat on top of wooden boards, parallel to each other in the middle of the room. Only a few feet of hard landing mat separated them.

I practiced my current skills and was about to start working on new skills, when Coach Becca stopped me. She told me that I needed to do work on my cartwheel back tuck dismount. This dismount begins with a cartwheel landing at the end of the beam, followed by flipping backwards off the beam. I had sustained a neck injury, two weeks prior, which prevented me from completing the dismount for some time; making me apprehensive to begin doing them again.  To help ease my fear, I started warming up on the low beam. After landing a few of them solidly, Coach Becca told me it was time to move to the high beam. I didn’t want too, so we came up with an agreement, if I did one good dismount, I could be done and move on to working new skills.

I never got to move on.

I did the dismount, it felt like it was going to be a good one. My feet planted solidly on the beam as I finished my cartwheel and set for the back tuck. I took off from the beam with more height and amplitude than normal. I thought it was going to be a great dismount. I thought wrong. I was a good height and distance from the beam, but I was crooked. I came down on the side of a hard, eight inch high dismount mat. My foot landed slightly twisted. If my body had stopped there, the injury I sustained wouldn’t have been too bad. But my foot continued to slip, landing completely sideways on the hard mat below. Immediately, I felt a wave of pain wash over me. A pain so intense that I didn’t know what to do, so I continued to let myself fall to the floor. Despite being in excruciating pain, I didn’t think my injury was that severe. I thought I was going to be able to walk it off. Then I heard Coach Becca say the words that will forever haunt me, “Wendy, I think we need Angel.”

Upon hearing those words, my heart immediately dropped. I laid my head back and closed my eyes as the world around me seemed to blur. Practice quickly came to a standstill. The gym went silent. A few of my teammates ran out to get Angel, the school’s athletic trainer. At that moment, my life seemed to come to a screeching halt.

I laid on the floor for what seemed like an eternity waiting for Angel. The look on her face when she entered the gym let me know that something was wrong, very wrong. She performed some different tests on my ankle to determine the amount of damage that was done. I could tell she was concerned, my ankle had already begun to swell. My teeth clenched behind my lips. I was in an unreal amount of pain. The light pressure of an ice bag resting against my ankle was more than I could handle.

As I laid on the floor, emotions started to brew inside me. I was sad, all I wanted to do was compete in the upcoming meet and I wasn’t going to be able to. I was angry, so angry I wouldn’t even look at my ankle. As I became more sad and angry, the pain became more intense. I started to hold my breath as a distraction.

Coach Becca sat on the floor beside me, she held my hand and assured me that I was going to be okay. She continuously reminded me that I needed to breathe. She never left my side. After lying on the floor for what seemed like years, it was finally time for me to go to the hospital. I needed to change from my leotard into a shirt and pants; which Coach Becca assisted me with. My shirt that day said think happy. As Coach Becca helped me put it on she commented, “Oh, this is the perfect shirt for today. Think happy thoughts.”

Leaving the gym, I looked back at Coach Becca standing in the doorway. Her pain appeared to be as much as mine. The same tears that filled my eyes were being held back in hers. I felt the bond between us grow even stronger at that moment.

Upon arrival to the hospital emergency room, I was given a wrist band and told to sit in the waiting room. I was overwhelmed by everything and the pain was gripping my entire body.  I layed on the bench, placed my jacket over my head, and began to cry. So many salty tears filled my eyes, they slowly ran down my cheeks and into my mouth. I knew I had to pull myself together; before losing complete control of my emotions.

After a short wait, I was taken to another department for x-rays. The x-ray machine seemed like a huge bear towering over me, causing me to feel scared and helpless. After the x-rays were completed, I was brought into a room to be seen by a doctor. The only thing I was told by anyone at the hospital is I didn’t have any visible breaks, but there was concern about the amount of swelling and I would need to see an Orthopedic doctor the following week. The nurse proceeded to give me a big black boot and some crutches, which allowed me to leave the hospital.

Upon exiting the hospital doors, the cold winter air nipped at my nose. The walk down the ramp seemed miles long due to icy patches and my lack of experience using crutches. Reaching the car was a relief; I just wanted to be home.

When we finally arrived home, I was exhausted. I ditched my crutches at the door and crawled to the couch. As I lay trying to fall asleep, my mind was racing. I couldn’t stop thinking about the moment that I got hurt. The dismount and events that followed kept repeating in my head. I could hear Coach Becca’s voice constantly echoing in my ears. I could picture every little detail of that moment, from the scent of stale chalk mixed with sweat that lingered in the air, to the music going silent and my teammates gathering together. I started to picture my ankle turning sideways and that’s when I realized, Coach Becca was there.

She saw it, she saw everything, and she never left my side. It was in that moment, lying on the couch at home, that I decided I was going to do it, for her. I was going to come back to gymnastics even stronger than before, for her. I was going to go to school the next morning, for her. I was going to do everything possible to get better, for her. I was going to do everything for Coach Becca, as every detail playing in my head was most likely playing in hers, too, but perhaps hers was even more vivid.

November 19th, 2018, it’s another cold and dreary day. I am now a senior, seventeen years old. It has been over three and a half years since my life changed forever. The emotional and physical pain from my injury continue to linger. The bond that was created between Coach Becca and I continues to grow stronger as well.

Having an injury made me realize that we should never take anything for granted. I used to not think twice about my ability to move without pain. Chronic pain may be difficult to understand, but I now know that one moment we may be perfectly happy and healthy, but life can change in the blink of an eye.