The Truth Comes Out

I told myself that not knowing was worse than whatever the doctor could’ve told me.  I’m not sure that’s entirely true anymore.  I kept waiting and waiting all day today, to know if this season was going to happen or not.  There were so many thoughts going through my head, and can you really blame me?  Over and over again in the last 24 hours, one of my roommates kept asking me if I was alright… if everything was okay.  But every time she asked, I simply said “yes” because I didn’t have a reason for things to not be all right… yet.  I guess that would explain why I may have just appeared to be slightly out of it all day.  I was worried. And scared.  Scared that everything I had been working  so hard for in the last nine months was simply going to be thrown out the window.

Our team trainer, Missy, finally texted me at around 2:30 p.m., saying that I had an appointment at 4 with the doctor.  In the words of our coach, John, “Lucky [me].”  I was (naively) too hopeful.  The doctor and my trainer both told me that my ACL was probably torn, but I just didn’t honestly believe it.  I was walking.  I didn’t need the brace.  I was balancing on one leg.   I was biking.  I had full extension.  It hurt.  All of these characteristics seemed to scream at me that my ACL was NOT torn.  So when Dr. Cosca came in to talk to me and started by saying, “I wish I had good news for you,”  I was waiting for him to throw me a smile or a chuckle and say, “Just kidding.  It’s a minor fix that we can do by _________.”  Someone else can fill in the blank here.  In hindsight, this logic really doesn’t make sense.  A doctor would have to be extremely cruel to play that kind of trick on a person.

So there it is.  My ACL is torn.  The graft is just gone at this point.  And as I said before, it caught me entirely off guard.  I held myself together pretty well at first, because deep down, I knew that this was a giant possibility.  But then once the doctor turned around, I started to really struggle with keeping a straight face.  As I started to tear up, Dr. Cosca turned to me and said, “Oh, I thought this would’ve sunk in by now.”  Yes, thanks dude.  Ha I guess it would’ve sunk in, but knowing that it’s torn now and hearing those words were two things no one ever wants to hear.

The shock has alleviated a little, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was disappointed.  I know so many people who were pulling for me, thinking of me, and people who I never considered religious were praying for me.  Finding God’s plan for me in all this is not going to be easy.  (Understatement of the… week.)  But in some ways, I have already seen Him working through the situation.  I guess I just need to hold on to that hope that it’ll all work out for the best in the end.

“Rejoice in our confident hope.

Be patient in trouble,

And keep on praying.”

Romans 12:12