September of 2015, I decided that it would be a good day to hang out at the park with a group of my friends. Everything went great for the first hour, we played on the playground, ran around in the wood chips, and then started to play in the grassy field adjacent to the jungle gym. We began doing handstands. I, being the reckless fifteen-year-old I was, thought it would be a good idea to join them, disregarding the fact that I have hyperextension and weak joints. I did a handstand. I didn’t quite reach my weight equilibrium and came hurtling back towards the earth. My feet didn’t reach the ground in time. My right knee slammed into the hard packed grassy dirt with the force of my entire body, quickly pushing my kneecap up, out, and over the groove in which the kneecap is usually kept. My friends didn’t believe that I was hurt until I moved my hand off of my leg to reveal my knee cap flipped onto the right side of my leg, protruding …show more content…
It was on the way to the hospital, IV in hand and sirens wailing, where my epiphany occurred. I am always injured. I began having flashbacks from my past pertaining to injury. Back to the first grade when I broke my arm after climbing on top of a toy chest to hang up a towel. To middle school when I hurt my knee swimming WHICH I remind you is a non-impact sport. Injuries of various severities flooded my mind as I began to fathom the fact that being hurt as a result of mundane activities had become an almost constant part of my