Digital publication | Page 73

The well-known saying "things can happen in an instant" doesn't make sense until you've experienced it. I've never seen  the  terrifying moment where everything started to go wrong before. 

Would I have done anything different? Could I have done anything- in that split second where I saw  it all  coming, yet watched helplessly? 

It  started  with a soccer game  under a  pale blue sky.  After all, I was known as  the  striker Sandra Collins, dominating the games along with my friends Avery Owens and Penny Jones. Soccer games were like chess,  piecing together everyone's positions and how to shoot  best. Since the age of 6, I've always relished the soaring emotions, both the ups and downs. We won with glorious cheers, and we lost with a breathless hunger for victory later, only slightly tinged with bitterness. Either way, I always came back for more. 

Except when I couldn’t.  

That day, I was the center forward, like usual. Doing my thing, shooting and weaving around the defenders. The other team was evenly  matched  for us, a lucky rebound set them higher. The  score  was 3-4, and I was determined to even it out. A swift cross from Amy Miller, left midfielder, and I sprinted at it, trusting that I would be faster than the defender trailing behind. 

As I prepared to take a shot back, jumping on my left foot to curve hard with my right, the center defender rushed to block. The crowd sucked their breath in apprehensively. As I felt my foot  graze  the ball, a splintering flash of pain sent me  into a  pit of darkness. 

I was told later that the reason I blacked out was the pain. Truthfully, I don't remember anything of the game after the crash that sent me into a  disparate world.

A dim, steady murmur lifted me back into reality. As I found myself in a white bed, I found myself in a hospital room with not a person to be seen. An array of medical equipment surrounded me, although most of it was not in use. An oak table stood next to me, adorned with rosy dahlias. Swiveling my head around, the bright sunlight danced over my eyes as I stared out into the pale blue sky.  

  

Pale blue sky? It's… morning??  I briskly shook the heavy blanket off and pushed myself up, however a stroke of blistering pain sent me crashing back down. 

I'm not that dense - I knew I was in the hospital for a reason. But the sight of my right leg  covered  in a pale blue cast… was unexpected. To this day, I'm not sure how I didn't break into a flood of tears as the shock registered. Likely because I was too focused on gripping the sheets intensely, riding out the waves of agony spreading throughout my leg.  

The sensation I felt while massaging my leg was horrifying. It  lay there uselessly, feeling nothing yet absolutely everything at the same time. Slightly tilting it to one side would send torrents of pain throughout, while it lacked so little strength it felt like I lost all muscle in it when  it was  still. 

From the from the walls of the room, I gathered that I was in Children's Mercy Hospital from a poster about their policies. The clock read 5:46, and I blinked slowly, wanting to find out more but also dreading what I came to be. A little sleep wouldn’t hurt. 

I laid back, too carefully, too  unfamiliar.  Delicately arranging how I moved, the way I carefully tested the uncertain rules of my legs, it was all  absolutely miserable. I sank back into the depths of nothing. At least I couldn't feel anything. No pain. No sadness.  Nothing. 

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