Personal Narrative: Heartbreak

As I walk into the doctor’s office, I’m prepared for the worst, but still hoping for the best. I follow the doctor back to a patient room and sit and wait for the results. The first doctor said my my foot wasn’t broken but it hasn’t gotten any better in weeks. I have the biggest baseball tournament of my life coming up, and I can’t miss it. I hear the door slowly squeak open, and the doctor’s heavy footsteps following. He has the diagnosis in his hand then says, “Sorry to say son, but it looks like it’s broken.” Heartbreak strikes as I realize I will have to sit through the baseball tournament and watch my team play without me. My hope is shattered. It’s the first week of May in 2013, just three weeks before the 11th annual Joey Berthcsi Memorial
Minutes go by as I sit just waiting for my name to be called from a doctor when I finally hear, “Zach Ramirez!”. The time on the clock ticks away as I get examined and wait for the first diagnosis, which is a sprain of my foot, but I had a feeling it wasn’t just a sprain.
After weeks of being on crutches and pain medication, it just doesn’t seem to get better. My mom schedules an appointment with a foot doctor to get my foot checked out again. When the results come back as a broken bone the room goes silent until the doctor breaks the news that everybody feared was coming, “No physical activity for at least 6 weeks until the bone fully heals.” The Joey Berthcsi Tournament is only three weeks away, so unless a miracle occurs, I will be on the sidelines.
As the weeks pass by, all I can do is walk around in my boot the foot doctor gave me. When the weekend of the Joey Berthcsi Tournament arrives, I’m still not able to play with my team. I stood with my team for the National Anthem before the game on the bright green grass of the baseball field with the wind blowing against our backs. Game after game all I can do is cheer on my team from the bench, unable to help them in