Your 21st birthday is supposed to be the most fun and exciting birthday of your life, right? Well, mine didn't exactly turn out that way. It all started on a cold Saturday morning up at Snowbasin Ski Resort in Ogden, Utah.
Dear Reader,
To give you context, a week before this all happened, I turned 21. The month before had been rough because I was adjusting to my newly-diagnosed Celiac disease and a gluten-free diet, so I had visited home for the weekend to get away. It was a nice birthday—nothing too big, and my mom had even made me my first gluten-free cake. It finally seemed like things were turning up.
Getting to Snowbasin
The week after my birthday was President’s Day weekend, and since my dad lives in Georgia, he really wanted to visit Utah to go skiing with us. And because it also happened to be the week of my birthday, it was the perfect excuse to visit, right? Well, here’s a little secret . . . I don't even like skiing. I had gone a few times before while growing up but had never loved it.
Despite reminding my dad this, he was set in his plans. We were going down to Ogden with my cousins who lived nearby, and we would spend the day on the slopes. So that Saturday I woke up early and begrudgingly got in the car when my family came to my apartment to pick me up. In one last attempt to dissuade him, I told my dad that we should wait a day or two until the scheduled snowstorm came to give us fresh powder. But it was no use. Our cousins were on their way and would be meeting us there in an hour.
Defeated, I curled up in the back of the car and fell asleep, trying not to think about how off I felt. It could have been a combination of nerves (I hadn’t been skiing in over two years), or thinking of how much I hated the cold. Or it could have been that I simply did not want to go. All I remember is that I wasn’t particularly excited to spend the rest of the day on the mountain.
When we arrived, we met our cousins and rented our skis. I still didn’t feel enthusiastic, but at this point I told myself to get over it. It would only be a few hours until I could sit in the warm lodge. Once our skis were on, my dad and uncle led us up to a couple of runs that merged into the catwalk called Wild Cat. They were small runs to warm up on before we went on Needles, the lift on the other side of the resort.
After a few times down Wild Cat, I was feeling a little better. My legs were less shaky. Heck, I was even starting to have fun watching my 8 year-old and 12 year-old cousins beat me down the hill. Then we started on the bigger runs above the Wild Cat. Farther up, I noticed that the snow was harder, almost ice. And it didn’t help that the runs higher up were also filled with more people. We went down a particular run (I don’t remember the name of it now) with a difficult turn near the bottom. It sloped sharply so that if you were going fast, you could easily hit a few hidden bumps that would send you off the side. I made a mental note of that for my next time down.
Going Down a Second Time
When we got off the lift to go down again, my dad asked which run we wanted to do. My siblings all said they wanted to try the same run again, and I warily agreed. After that, I remember pausing to say a prayer, asking that Heavenly Father protect me on the way down. I was feeling suddenly uneasy, but I ignored it. With my sister and brother in the lead, we started off, my dad, uncle, and cousins in the back.
Before I continue, I have a question: Why are ski resorts even called ski resorts? I mean, people snowboard there too. It’s not like skiers own the right to the name or anything. I don’t know why that came to my mind right now, but it is something I’ve never understood. If anyone has the answer, please enlighten me. But for this story’s sake, I guess we can discuss it later.
Anyway, as we came up to the turn again, I tried to go slower. I cut back and forth—I even did “pizza” in a desperate attempt to slow myself down, my legs were too shaky. I knew I was going too fast, but in my limited skiing experience, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I was gaining on my little brother, and fast. I saw him take the turn just ahead of me. In my head, I saw what was about to happen. I would never slow down in time. To avoid a head-on collision, I steered inward to cut diagonal in front of him. Perhaps I could get in front without—
My skis cut into his, and we collided. As I was flipped forward in the air, I felt my left leg twist and heard a “pop”. My only thought in that moment was: Is that what it sounds like to break your leg? Colors blurred around me. For a second, I didn’t know which way was up or down. Then, I hit the ground. I rolled a little bit until my body stopped at the bottom of the turn, right on the edge of the slope. My left leg was still attached to my ski and twisted behind me.
The pain registered then, and I cried out. I looked at my leg. It wasn’t supposed to bend like that. Trying anything to relieve the pain, I grabbed my left leg to move it back straight. It popped back into place, and the pain became worse than before. I screamed again, this time involuntarily.
My sister, who was 18 at the time, saw what happened, and immediately stopped. I saw my dad and uncle stop as well, but they were looking ahead of me, over the side of the slope. Had my brother gone off the side? Was he okay? I couldn’t think straight. I tried to take off my coat then, but my sister stopped me. I then tried to grab my knee. It felt better when I bent it, but she stopped me. I remember yelling at her because of that.
My dad was beside me then, telling my sister and uncle to go get ski patrol. I kept asking him where my gloves were. He told me I was in shock and to lie down. He then slid my gloves on my hands, brushing snow off my face and hair. I realized how cold I was then. I couldn’t stop shivering and crying. I told him where it hurt, and he held my leg, coaxing me.
When Ski Patrol Arrived
Minutes later, ski patrol was there. They straightened my knee, picked me up, and placed me in the toboggan, wrapping me in several blankets. My dad told me to calm down, and I remember nodding as he finished tucking me in. I was more coherent now, and I tried to stop crying. As they pulled me down the hill, I remember looking up at the clear blue sky and my thoughts went something like this, “Well, this is ironic. Didn’t you just pray a few minutes ago to not get hurt? Hmmm . . . maybe there’s a lesson here you need to learn from this. I wonder if I’ll have to use crutches . . . I’ve always wanted to have crutches. Man, this is going to be quite the story to tell Mom.”
Luckily, the clinic was close to where I had crashed, so they brought me in and set me on a table. They examined my knee, which had already started to swell. Then ski patrol asked who I had crashed into. My dad let them know it was my little brother and joked that we probably wouldn’t be suing. After that, they told us that more people had ended up in the clinic that day than any other day of the season so far. I guess that was supposed to make me feel better.
A friendly radiologist took my X-rays then and told me I hadn’t broken anything. Then a physical therapist came in and did some tests on me. He told me I had only torn my MCL, and that I was lucky because it wasn’t my ACL. He explained that an ACL tear required a major knee surgery and a lengthy recovery.
I remember there was another girl in the room on the table next to me. She had torn her ACL just an hour before. Talking with her, I found out she had torn her other ACL last year and would have to go through the same surgery and recovery again. She was crying, and I couldn’t blame her. I remember feeling so bad but also so relieved that that wasn’t me. Little did I know that the next week would show me I wasn’t in fact so lucky.
After Snowbasin
So for the rest of that weekend, I had to use the crutches and stiff, Velcro brace they had given me from the clinic. The crutches were fine, but it was hard to get in and out of cars with the brace. I remember when we went to see Black Panther in theaters that Monday, I had to lay my left leg across my dad’s lap because my brace wouldn’t let my leg bend.
On the Tuesday following President’s Day, I went to an orthopedic surgeon to get my knee checked. He turned out to be more skeptical than the physical therapist. Due to the swelling, he said I would need an MRI because I had probably torn my ACL as well as my MCL. After telling me this, he left me with the nurse. I suddenly felt as though my world was ending. I was in shock. I quickly called my dad, who was back in Georgia by this time, and cried when I heard his voice.
I told him couldn’t do it. I felt so overwhelmed. How would the rest of my year look? I was in the middle of the semester—I didn’t live with anyone who could take care of me or help me around, not to mention I didn’t have the money to pay for surgery and physical therapy. The last thing I remember saying to him was, “This wouldn’t have happened if you would have listened to me and hadn’t forced me to go skiing that day.” I regret saying that now. I know my dad already felt horrible about what had happened, and I know he already blamed himself for it, but I was hurting, and needed someone to blame.
But in his fatherly love, these were the words he said to me: “Maddy, you’re bigger than this. Don’t doubt yourself because you can do this. You’re stronger than you’re acting right now. Try not to think too far ahead, and we can figure this out.” I think he said some other things, attempting to calm me down in my hysteria (I felt a little bad for the nurse who was witnessing all of this), and then he told me to focus on scheduling the MRI and that we would worry about the rest later.
So as you can see, this story is far from finished, but it is going to take a more time to tell. More time than you might have right now. It’s been a long journey, and that is why I’ve posted more about it in other posts under the section, “ACL Injury.” So if you’re willing, dear reader, feel free to accompany me on this crazy journey that has been 2018, and read more about my experiences and lessons learned from the ironic day that was February 17th.
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