The day before surgery is both exciting and stressful, at least for me. The most important thing to prep? Your mind.
I was excited because I was finally going to get fixed. Fixed for classes, my social life and most importantly, softball. It was February 8th now... only a month until season would be in full swing. I was determined to stay relaxed and as happy as I could be before tomorrow morning. As I walked to my first class, Constitutional Law, my phone started to ring. I picked it up, "Hello?" "Hi, this is Dr. Wongworawot calling about your procedure tomorrow. Do you have some time to chat?" Gasping for breath as I made the final incline to the 3rd floor of Hall of Letters, I dropped my bag and signaled to my professor that I was on the phone with my dr. "Yes, Dr. Is everything okay?" He sighed, "Well, I have a scheduling conflict with your surgery tomorrow. There is a patient with a dire arm injury that I need to operate on. I will either have to reschedule you for another month or have my other dr perform the procedure on you." I sat down and wiped tears from my eyes. "I don't want to have to wait. Who is the other dr, do you trust him?" Dr said, "Yes, his name is Dr. Riedel, many patients have great things to say about him. Call your parents and let me know.." Shit. I walked back into the classroom, picked up my things, told my professor the issue and was excused. What the hell was I going to do.
To say that my parents were not happy with my Dr's decision to prioritize another patient is an understatement. I mean I was pissed too. It had now been 4 months since my injury, 4 anxiety ridden months. I wanted it to end. I wanted normalcy. After a long conversation (and research online about this new dr) with my family, we decided, surgery was going to be tomorrow. Their fighting spirit made me feel secure. They knew I was doing what was right for me. Even though I had my parents support, I felt like nobody else understood what it was like to be kept away from a game that you love... then it hit me. Someone did know. Coach.
My coach hadn't really been involved in my injury processing. Her awkward social tendencies didn't make it any easier to approach. So, when I got a text from her shortly after dealing with the craziness of the early morning, I thought it was a sign. "Hey can you come by the office to talk today?" Finally, a one on one conversation, an opportunity to express my nerves about surgery on my biggest asset, my arm. I've never been one to feel comfortable talking about vulnerabilities, so this was going to be a big step. I needed this. Our meeting was set for 2:30 that afternoon.
I met coach promptly at her office after my last class was done for the day. I walked up the narrow stairway and began rehearsing the details I wanted coach to know about my surgery. When I made it to the top, the assistant coach smiled, said hello, asked about my general well being and that was that. Coach opened her door and gestured me inside, closing the door behind us.
We sat down facing one another in her cramped office. The conversation began with the usual small talk... classes, campus events, teammates, etc. Then, it became real.
(`~the following is paraphrasing off memory~)
Okay jaz, don't tear up, tell her what happened this morning and how stressed you are about tomorrow. This is what you wanted, a chance to be openly vulnerable about the injury and my anxiety . She will understand....she was hurt in college too.
I explained the chaos of switching surgeons last minute, having to leave class to figure out scheduling and appointments for check in, and the post-op appointment... all the while taking deep breaths to try and control any tear that dared to fall
"Well, that's actually what I needed to talk to you about. Your commitment to the team. The coaching staff feels as though you are only prioritizing yourself with your appointments and non-softball related meetings, not the team. This is not what it means to be a bulldog. I know you have your surgery tomorrow, and you will be missing the game, which is fine since its non-conference, but after that, we expect to see a change in effort and heart for the wellbeing of the team. This means no more missed practices, morning workouts or team events. If there are then we will have to meet again about your standing with the team."
With every sentence my heart broke more and more. This has to be a misunderstanding.
"I understand it may look like I don't care about practices or workouts because I just cheer on the girls, but it is all I am able to do right now. I have been trying to show that I am there for the team in other ways, most importantly that I still have their back as a member of the team, not just an injured player. As for missing practices and workouts I do apologize. Scheduling drs appointments around 5 courses and practice everyday has become difficult since the clinic for my dr is only open on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (which was something we had previously discussed and thought was settled) I have only missed one morning workout due to me being too heavily dosed by suggestion of my dr on prescribed painkillers so that I could sleep for my classes. I am trying really hard to manage medications, pain, class and softball, it's just been a lot at once..."
"Like I said, coach and I need to see the changes, so I know you have your surgery tomorrow, good luck and I hope after things get better." She sat up and reached for the door.
Quickly wiping any tears that may have built up away, I sat up and walked out the door... nothing more was said.
Looking back on this now, I'm surprised I didn't fall while jogging down the steep narrow staircase that leads into the locker room. All I know is I wanted to get the hell out of there.
I sat in front of my locker and while looking up at my jersey, the tears won. I couldn't hold it in anymore... the shock had settled, heart had broken, and all respect for coach had dissipated. It felt as though my world was falling apart.. 3 minutes later the captains showed up to change for practice. There I was, out in the open, bawling. shit. Immediatley the questions began... I told them everything. The response? Nothing but love and support for me after what I had to endure. Finally, people who understand my heartache... I no longer felt isolated and ashamed for being hurt. They reminded me that I did nothing wrong and to hold my head up high before my surgery, because what really mattered at the end of the day was my health and overall well being.
I left the locker room and went straight to my boyfriend's dorm. All the while one question weighed on me....
what if she kicks me off the team if I don't heal fast enough?
fuck.... surgery here I come..
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