Last softball season I sat on the bench most of the time. This spring I finally earned my starting position at third. However, my dream was unfortunately shattered.

But this pain and disappointment, was only the beginning. I never realized how inconvenient and humiliating a broken leg could be.

My goal for this softball season was learning how to slide. The day before our first game, coach Michelle Wright said practice would solely focus on sliding, so I got excited.

Coach Wright instructed that the proper technique for sliding was to “start by running and as you get closer to the base, tuck your left foot under your right leg.”

We started practicing on a piece of cardboard on the grass and then moved to the dirt.

Unfortunately my first time on the dirt ended in a disaster. My cleat caught in a rut, as I landed a loud “pop” echoed throughout the diamond.

Shocked and in searing pain, I rolled side to side on my back, praying the agony would go away. Immediately my ankle swelled up and the pain was so severe that tears would not form. Suddenly it felt as though my heart beat moved down to my ankle. Coach held my hand while we waited for the ambulance and my mom to arrive.

The entire ambulance ride to the hospital thoughts of ?why me?? and ?why the day before our first game?? kept running through my head. As I sat in the emergency room, I waited to hear the extent of the damage had been caused to my leg. Still a glimmer of hope lingered. Maybe there was a small chance I had just sprained my ankle and would only be out for our first game.

Unfortunately my hopes were shattered when the x-ray revealed I had snapped my fibula, the skinny bone, near the ankle. Yet, to my dismay that was the least of my worries. My ankle was also dislocated and the ligaments holding it together were torn.

Coach reassured me that even though I was hurt, I was still as much a part of the team as all the other players. I cannot thank her enough for including me, but tried to comprehend why this burden had to fall on my shoulders.

In surgery, the doctor put two screws and a plate in my leg and ankle. Now, I cannot put any weight on my leg for three more weeks and I will be in rehab for four to six months.

It has been three weeks since my accident and for the most part I am over the fact that I cannot play softball this season. Yet, the inconvenience of a broken leg has opened to my eyes to those who unable to care for themselves.

Dependence, frustration takes toll

The moments of frustration, like when I just want something to drink or going to the bathroom, send me reeling. I have always taken walking for granted and when I attempt to get up, forgetting that I cannot walk, tears well up all over again. Often I’ll slouch back, crying until that wave of pity passes.

The most obvious difficulty is not being able to walk, but even opening doors, carrying anything or bathing, are all an overwhelming chore.

For the first time since I was six, I need help taking a bath. My left leg cannot get wet, at least until the 10 stitches are removed. The awkwardness at times has been unbearable.

I am forced to sacrifice pride and privacy, to let my mom help me with every little task. I now know what senior citizens, including my grandma, and disabled people have to endure every day for the rest of their lives. At least for me, my mom is not a strange nurse. And fortunately, I only have endure this humiliation for a few more weeks.

Although I complain, my mom is gracious to help me. I am sure she never dreamt she would have to cater to all my needs, after my terrible twos.

Yet my mom reassured me that this was ?not necessarily a burden; it?s just like you’re just a little girl again for a time.” I got used to being independent, like being able cook my own meals, bath and drive myself places. I am glad mom is willing to help me with all those things again.

I often forget things could be a lot worse; I could never play sports again or even be paralyzed. Its hard to think beyond temporary inconveniences. But the once intolerable, helpless, child-like feeling I hated, seems like an opportunity to test my character.