Lilly

“We’ll try to get you in for an MRI in the next two weeks,” the doctor says. Until then, she tells me, I should seriously consider going back in an air cast until we get more conclusive results. “It can’t hurt, and it might help.”

And just like that, I’m done.

Last spring I played six games before my ankle took me out of commission. This fall I only made it through one.

And all it took was one sharp deceleration on an uneven patch of turf, one jolt of pain, fleeting, a few minutes of limping around after before finally bowing out for the day. One doctor’s appointment. One scheduled reexamination. One leg in a boot until further notice, and the next day a school full of people exclaiming and demanding to know what happened, what went wrong “this time?!”

My explanation gets shorter and shorter each time I’m asked. “I was in the boot last spring, remember, and didn’t wait long enough before coming back to practice. So it never really got better. It’s been bothering me all season so far, I guess, and when we finally got in to see the doctor she recommended that I go back in the air cast until my MRI. That should be next week, we think.”

Then, “We think it didn’t fully heal in the spring so I’m getting it reassessed. We’re trying to get an MRI scheduled, though, so I can find out what really happened. It might have been a high ankle sprain, those take longer to heal.”

Then, “Yeah, I tweaked it again at practice last week.”

I’m tired of talking about it and dealing with it and having to make excuses for why I can’t play, can’t run, can’t even climb a flight of stairs. I’m tired of not being able to play the sport that I love without that jarring pain that’s almost familiar now. I just want it all to be over. I just want the spring season to come and my fitness along with it. ♦