Anterior Cruciate Ligament: Reconstruction Essay

“Crack.” was the sound I heard as my ligament shattered to pieces when my foot got caught as I was dribbling the ball down the field. Followed by an intense pain that is still repetitive to this day and a constant reminder every winter when a cold breeze hits my knee. Through the one-year process of reconstructing my Anterior Cruciate Ligament, I learned about life in a way I never thought possible. I was an emotional roller coaster, frustrated with myself and weighing all fault at my shoulders. A single ligament had the power to change my perspective on life, career, and left me with a life lesson to carry on. A vivid reminder of that day remains within me, and crazy enough, it landed on October 13th in the year 2013. It was a cold, rainy
With the mentality that I had, I was positive I would back and running in the track as well as training for soccer in a month. It turned out that the incision had a small complication and a minor infection. With the latex used during the surgical procedure, my skin reacted towards the material and I was left with bee hives filled with pus. Once steroids were prescribed and the infection faded away, another complication arose as my incision had gathered tissue and would not flatten out. This added to my recovery time as I spent another two months at rebab doing exercises to reshape the appearance. With a longer recovery time, my level of patience sky rocked, and I began to understand why this event, surgery, and process was happening to me. Growing up, I was a very impatient and rushed individual who only thought about herself and never about other’s troubles. It was very contradicting because my parents had always taught us to be humble and help others as needed. I did acknowledge that I was a teenager going through a rebel stage in my life, but as time progressed I was thankful of this experience as I ended up maturing a lot faster than what I ever imagined. I became engaged in community service and helping those indeed along with veterans from war who had lost limbs. I felt that it was my duty to
I wanted to be the best, I wanted to attend a four-year university where I would further my education in accounting with soccer games and new friendships. Instead, I was faced upon memories I did not want to be brought back into my life of depression and feeling as if I were not good enough at anything that I attempted to do. During those weeks I would constantly beat myself up and ask myself why all the hard work during rehab was not paying off. I would do from one hundred and fifty to two hundred squats daily, stretch for hours, and live at the gym. My mind was only focusing on the negative and hurting myself over a simple surgery that made me distant from a sport. A talk with my parents helped reestablish my perspective on life and gave me a chance to explore other career options along with