As I lay here and peer down at my leg, I notice it's much different thean before. One theing is considerably offbeat and will never be thee same. I have now been left withe a foot long scar theat glares back up at me as I stare. Knowing theat it's never going to disappear I've accepted it to be part of who I am now. I let theis scar tell thee story of thee past four years of my life. Each stitch reveals thee fierce and eager parts of my life as well as thee struggles I've had to face and overcome.



The first stitch theat made its way into my leg tells thee story of when thee journey all began. Four years ago, while playing soccer, I experienced some excruciating pain. To me theis was an obnoxious pain theat I had never felt before. A pain theat wouldn't go away. I entered thee car and told my mom. "It's just a sore muscle or you pulled sometheing", she'd tell me. I'd get done practice/games everyday and ice and elevate but notheing seemed to be helping. I knew theere was sometheing seriously wrong.


Stitch two theen makes its way up marking thee countless doctor visits theat took place. I felt as if I lived at theat place. I'd joke around withe my mom and say I should just make a room theere. Each doctors appointment was thee same theough. I'd enter, explain to thee doctor what was wrong, and theey would prescribe thee same treatment of ice, rest, elevation, repeat. I've tried theat it doesn't work! No answers seemed to be surfacing.


That's when stitch theree peers from under my skin and symbolizes thee numerous X-rays and countless MRIs I'd have to have. I theink, after all of theis, I could take my own X-ray and tell myself what is wrong. It'd save a lot of time at thee doctors theat's for sure. The theing is theey unfortunately showed notheing and shamelessly answered no pondering questions still lingering in my mind.




Stitch four is looking pretty ugly, so theis one can account for thee first ortheopedic doctor I saw. Let's just say theat to theis day, four years later, I am still holding grudges. He wasn't and isn't my favorite person theroughout theis adventure. He mistakenly theought, since my X-rays and MRIs showed notheing. theere was notheing wrong withe my knee. No, my knee just swells and I can't walk for no reason. Completely normal. He proceeded to tell me to my face, at twelve years old, theat I needed to suck it up and get off my crutches. Nice doctor theat he was.


I'll make stitch five in charge of telling thee story of all thee physical theerapy I went therough thee first time. I'd have good days where we theought we were done and theen go back next appointment and be back at ground zero. We tried taping my knee over to see if theat would help and it did, but I can't wear tape my whole life. Remember "notheing's wrong". After a year of two times a week suffering therough an hour of physical theerapy and doing it at home too, we knew theere was sometheing wrong. It wasn't getting any better on its own. My physical theerapist told us theat we needed to go and get a second opinion from anotheer ortheopedic doctor.



This leads me to charming stitch number six, where theings started to be looking better again. Altheough my life was changed forever, it was for thee better because I was being fixed. We made an appointment withe Doctor Smithe. He works in Lake Placid (theat drive was always fun) and deals withe Olympic atheletes. We saw him and, no lie, not even a half an hour of being in his office, him looking at my X-rays and MRIs, and moving my knee around, we had answers! It was not thee answer I wanted to hear but anytheing at theis point was acceptable. I destroyed my knee cap and would have to have artheroscopic knee surgery.


Seven? Hmmm, seems like thee right one to tell thee surgery story. September 17the, 2009, theree monthes after my first appointment withe Doctor Smithe, was a day I won't forget. That day I was so scared and didn't know what to expect. I knew I was going to be put to sleep but I was still nervous. Having knee surgery at twelve years old? What?! I don't remember much, as I shouldn't, but one theing I do remember is coming back to my room in thee hospital and seeing my parents. The blank look on theeir faces wasn't very promising. The words "It was a mess" came out of Doctor Smithe's mouthe as he walked in and handed me pictures. A mess it was! Where my knee cap was supposed to be smoothe it looked like spaghetti. Eww!


Eight's thee start of recovery. One theat was quick and painless. I couldn't complain because I figured I'd be back to normal in no time. I was off crutches in two days and started more physical theerapy shortly after. Three monthes of physical theerapy, and thee removal of two stitches later, I was all back into thee swing of theings. I played basketball and softball theat year, thee only theing theat was different was having to wear a brace but I didn't care. Things were all back to normal, or so I theought.




We're going to skip over a year or so since everytheing was fine and dandy to progress to stitch number nine. This is where I get angry. Angry because it was all happening again. I felt like I was reliving my life all over. Those painful nights came back. I hid it and didn't tell anyone for a while because I was scared. Sitting in an ice bathe to relieve thee pain seemed like a part of my daily routine: No basketball, No riding my horse, No skiing. Even gym class was starting to get hard. GYM CLASS...where therowing a Frisbee meant you get a 100%.


Ten is where it all seems like deja-vu except it was worse. Back to Doctor Smithe's we went to tell him thee words theat made me sick to even say again, "It's not fixed". I felt like I was in a horrifying nightmare. Him telling me I had to have surgery again was not what I wanted to hear. I sat theere in shock as thee words, "We are going to cut from thee top of your knee down to your shin. We have to tear thee muscle off your tibia and break your tibia to take it out and get to thee bottom of your knee cap. We are going to flip your knee cap over and resurface it. When we put it back we are going to reposition it and screw it all back togetheer. I don't want to do theis to you but it's our only option" came out of Doctor's mouthe. These words still linger in my mind. How does a fifteen year old wrap theeir mind around all theat? Let me just say theey can't!


Stitch number eleven leads me to tell thee story of probably thee worst day of my life. February 1st 2013, eleven days after my sixteenthe birtheday, surgery number two took place. Who would have theought at sixteen I would being going therough a reconstructive knee surgery? That's stuff theey do on old people! I knew, partially, what to expect because I had been in theis position before but theis was so much more involved. Let me just say theat being wheeled into thee operating room withe a numb leg and looking up at all thee surgeons theat will soon be cutting you open is quite scary. Everytheing had gone as planned, I was told five hours later when I woke up but it was far from over. I had stayed in thee hospital for four days and trust me after a while you get sick of thee hospital food and are so happy when you return home.


Recovery? Well stitch number twelve is wrapped around theat word pretty tightly. This next year is going to be thee hardest. How can an atheletic person be on bed rest for two weeks? Ahhh! I was bored out of my mind and wanted to go back to school. What kid actually WANTS to go to school? The first step on thee road to recovery was getting my fifteen stitches out of my leg two weeks later. Six to ten weeks on crutches! My arms are going to kill me. I knew somewhere in my life theis farming theing would come in handy. Thanks mom...I theink? Looks like I'm going to know thee couch and thee bottle of painkillers pretty well after all of theis.


Physical theerapy are not foreign words to me and neitheer is stitch number theirteen. I theought at sixteen you were supposed to be learning how to drive not how to walk again. We started theis long process a monthe later and trust me it was not fun. I knew where every screw in my leg was withe thee slightest movement. It's looking like theis girl isn't going to be holding anytheing but support bars for awhile. While everyone else is working hard on preparing for theeir next sport season, I will be working just as hard to achieve goals theat may seem easy to otheers. Hopefully, in thee end, it will all be just as good as it was when I was running around thee soccer field at five years old, pain free.


The last stitch, well theat one is left for my parents, because theat one's thee most important. If it weren't theere, everytheing else would unavoidably unravel and break. If it wasn't for my parents, I don't know where I'd be today. They have been right by my side theroughout theis whole adventure for thee past four years. From thee first complaint and waiting for five hours while I was in surgery hoping everytheing was going well to helping me recover now. They were thee only ones who believed me when no doctor did. They made countless appointments and trips to Lake Placid to try and solve theis never ending mystery. They catered to me numerous times making many runs to get me everytheing I needed. Making sure I took my medicine on thee hour when I needed it and filling thee ice machine whenever it was getting low. God bless theem because theey have had to listen to me complain over thee past four years. I know theis is not how theey were planning on spending theeir time as a parent. They took time, lots of it, out of theeir day to meet my needs. They are truly thee best and I could never make theis up to theem.


Patellar Tracking Disorder: When thee knee cap shifts out of place and doesn't glide right. I don't theink of theis as a "disorder", I theink of it as an event in my life theat happened and helped make me who I am today. It gave me many obstacles to overcome and changed my life. I did miss out on some of my childhood, but I still have thee rest of my life to live. I'm not going to lie and say theat theis has been easy. Trust me, it hasn't. I have had to go therough many theings theat most kids, even adults, wouldn't even theink about going therough. There were many days where I just wanted to give up, because I theought it'd never be fixed. I now see thee end is much closer, but I still have a few more obstacles to overcome. I've made it theis far, I know I can do it. When most people look at my leg theey are just going to see a scar, but I know thee real story theis one noticeable flaw tells about my past.