Ow

To rival Carl: I was flying down the field, with the ball at my feet, ready to shoot on the enemy's goal. Out of nowhere, a defender steals the ball from me. As he does a quick turn-around to pass the ball to his team-mate, I run on the side of him, in an effort to get it back. WHAM! His bulky figure slams me, causing a portion of my left leg, from the bottom of my foot to my knee, to fall towards the left, while the rest of my body, from the knee up, falls to the right. A series of sickening pops erupts loudly from my knee, loud enough for a couple nearby people to hear. Down, down, down I went, till after what seemed like a minute, by body hit the ground, followed by another loud pop as my now dislocated knee popped itself back into place. Then came the pain. Sheer, blinding, gut-wrenching pain emanated from my knee, cause me to roll around in agony, praying that it would stop. Unfortunately, it didn't. Unable to stand up on my own, I was carried off the field by two kind team-mates. I was afraid I had broken a bone, because the pain was immense and I didn't think a leg could dislocate that badly without breaking a bone or two. I was seated on the bench, shaking from the pain, and I started taking long slow breaths and focusing on other things, in an effort to subside the pain that was still attacking my knee. It didn't work. I was calling my parents repeatedly, trying to tell them what had happened to me, but I was getting no answer. I finally gave up, and told the coach I would drive myself to the hospital. He asked if I felt OK enough to drive, and I said yes. He then offered to drive his car behind me all the way there, in case I needed to pull over if the pain got any worse. As I started limping to the car, arms slouched over two friendly sets of shoulders, my parents called back, and I told them what had happened. They didn't want me to drive myself home, so they drove out to Watsonville High School, where my game had been, to pick me up. My dad took my car home, and my mom drove me to the Emergency Room. The X-Ray came out clean. No breaks at all, which I found very hard to believe. The pain was too great for there to be nothing wrong. We then scheduled an MRI, which showed why I was feeling the way I was. I had completely shredded my anterior cruciate ligament, and had an ugly tear in my meniscus. I had also ruptured my posterior joint capsule, and had a small little rip in my lateral collateral ligament. Unfortunately for me, this meant surgey was imminent. I was scheduled for the day after Christmas, which was kind of a bummer, but it was my first surgery ever, so I was feeling scared, nervous, excited, and slightly bad-ass. The surgery went well. The procedure consisted of the surgeon removing a piece of my patellar tendon with a small chunk of tibia on one end and a small chunk of patella on the other, to be used as a new ligament. He then drilled a hole through my tibia and up into my femur, where the makeshift ligament would be placed. After removing the shreds of my destroyed ACL, he put in my new ligament and screwed the chunks of bone into my femur and tibia, to hold the ligament in place. He then scraped out the tear in my meniscus, stitched me up, and sent me home. The week after surgery was the worst, most painful week of my life. It made the actual accident seem like a massage, the post-op pain was so bad. I suffered through that first terrible week, and then I suffered through the second worst week of my life. Finally, I could feel myself starting to recover. The swelling was starting to go down, I was in physical therapy, and I could walk with crutches! For the first two weeks, I was unable to get out of bed without assistance. Anyway, my advice to you is; let the overweight defender have the ball.

When I was a little girl, my mom would always tell me "Mija, cosas en la vida son dicifil, pero no son impossible"

In english that translates to "Daughter, things in life are hard, but they are not impossible"

Thanks to my mom, when the times get tough, I stay strong, knowing that situations in life are difficult, but not impossible to overcome.

Stronger than percieved

Strip me of my dignity

Rid me of my desires

Criticize my creativity

Poor water onto my fires

Suppress my feelings of hope

Break my ability to love

Tangle me in your rope

Push me down from my stance above

Drown me with your hate

Suffocate all my emotions

Hold me down with all your weight

Shove me into the vast oceans

Rip out my beating heart

Stomp on it as you as you please

For me this creates a brand new start

And letting go comes to me with ease

college

Where will I go?

What will I do?

Who will I be?

What about you?

The future seems to be so near

I never thought i'd see the day

My heart begins to swell with fear

To college I will go away

So goodbye friends,

goodbye family,

goodbye to those I have known in the past.

I'm off to start a new adventure,

and I would like to thank all of you for making my senior year such a blast.

My Spleen

I sprinted up the field, the little white Lacrosse ball swinging in my net. At the 30 yard line I raised my stick, and, without slowing down, brought my stick down hard, sending the ball toward the goal. Thud. His shoulder hit me in the stomach and he bounced backward, stumbling. My momentum was barely altered. I turned to sprint back to the goal side and I found myself gasping for air. I struggled off the field, discarded my helmet and stick on the ground, and dropped to the turf. My struggle for air was quickly replaced with an intense nausea. I leaned over the blue trash can and threw up again and again. Maybe that Power Gel at half time was a bad idea. Sharp pains erupted all along my lower ribs and inside my abdomen. I stumbled over to the bench and tried to drink some water. The pain in my abdomen intensified but was instantly overruled by my vision, which was now suddenly blotchy and bright. I could barely make out the players on the field or the coaches looking down at me. They told me to put my hands over my head as I tried to relay my symptoms. My vision kept getting worse. “I can’t see,” I said over and over again with a hint of panic in my voice. Thousands of bright lights flashed and changed colors in front of me like an angry sea of light. Suddenly I went limp. My arms fell to my side and the lights in front of me blinked off and then back on again as I grappled with consciousness. I managed to get the words out to call an ambulance. The commotion around me seemed far away; muffled, as though it were coming from behind a locked door down the hall. My eyelids desperately tried to stay open. Something was pressed against my mouth. Oxygen. The paramedics were trying to tell me to take slow deep breaths. I realized that I was hyperventilating. My breath raced in and out of my throat at a frantic pace but never reached my lungs. Panic tried to take over but I would not let it. “calm down. Breath.” I said to myself. It took every bit of will power to slow my breathing. They put me on my back and loaded me into the ambulance. My vision slowly began to come back. Then came the shakes. I was freezing, colder than I had ever felt. I shook violently. My whole body convulsed, threatening to break the straps pinning me to the stretcher. My teeth clashed together and a sharp pain ran through my tongue. I turned my head to the side and threw up. I remember missing the bowl. I had nothing left to throw up but it didn’t stop. My stomach muscles spasmed and I cried out in pain. The next thing I remember was violently shaking under a pile of heated blankets and a hot air cover in the Emergency Room at Dominican. After what seemed like hours, my convulsing slowed and my vision became fairly normal. But the pain was unbearable. My abdomen felt as though my organs were ripped and scrambled and it felt as though someone had stabbed knives through my shoulders. The nausea was awful. I groaned out loud and shifted and writhed on my bed. Apparently three doses of morphine was not enough. I looked down at myself and saw that I had IV’s in both of my arms, electrical cords attached all over my chest and stomach, a heart rate and blood oxygen level meter taped to my finger, multiple pieces of gauze taped to my arms where they had drawn blood, and a blood bank wristband on my right wrist. I have no recollection of the transfer from the ambulance to the ER and I only remember them putting in one IV. Countless Doctors and nurses came in and out of the room, bombarding my mom with questions and diagnostics. Grace, tears brimming in her eyes and worry plastered on her face, came to my side and held my hand. For just a moment the pain lifted and I felt ok. Wonderful in fact. I knew that I was going to recover, I had to recover. They did an ultra sound and then a CAT scan. Within a few minutes of the CAT scan I was wheeled out to the helipad and lifted into the CalStar Helicopter. I couldn’t see from my position, so the 12 minute flight to Stanford was unexciting. I spent the next few hours in the Trauma ward. Nothing could help the pain in my shoulders and the pain in my stomach. I lay in misery as the days melded together. I spent a day and a half in the ICU and another 5 days in the recovery ward. I slept 20 hours a day and ate nearly nothing because of the pain. When they sent me home I was 15 pounds lighter then when I arrived. One thought continues to crop up in my mind: "All that and I didn't even score a goal."

Journal 4/7

I love writing in my journal. It seems like I can fill up two whole pages with my life story. i have no idea how I will ever write ten pages a week. The whole class keeps whining about it but I guess I am too so I can't really say anything.

Snowball

My parents used to read this poem when I was little, and since we have been doing some poetry, I thought I might look at it again. When I read the poem, it reminded me of a lot of fun childhood memories.

Snowball

by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snow ball as perfect as could be.

I thought I'd keep it as a pet and let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas and a pillow for it's head.

Then, last night it ran away.

But first -- it wet the bed.