"Well Let me just jump once."
Mikaila's perspective“As soon as I jumped my knee buckled, it hyperextended backwards, it felt like my bones hit, I landed in the sand pit, I fell down, and I literally was like “fuck” something’s not right.”
It’s crazy to think that this kind of thing can happen to anyone, at any time, at any place; and it’s just unfortunate that it had to be one of my teammates. Quite honestly, I thought that this interview would just be a couple questions asked and a few straight answers given. But what we got was so much more than that. The setting was casual; we were in my dorm room just talking how friends would. But I figured if I didn’t ask her a question sooner or later, we would never get anything done. “So what were your first thoughts/reactions when you found out you had broken your kneecap?” “I laughed,” she said. She explained how before she got her x-ray doctors were throwing around things such as a torn ACL or meniscus, no one said anything about a kneecap break. Her voice kept cracking and it was obvious that she was a little on edge, or a bit distracted, but I couldn’t figure out why, that is, until she answered the next question. “What are your thoughts in terms of basketball?” You could tell how frustrated she was, anxious even, swiveling back and forth in the chair, trying to muster up a decent sentence while not making eye-contact. “Everyday I can’t run it stresses me out more,” her voice was cracking again and there was a long pause before she continued, “Coach thinks I’ll be back in October – I won’t be.” I could feel her hurting, see her eyes starting to water, hear her getting emotional. It sucked; seeing someone you care about feel that bad, I had to remind myself to be human, to remember that this was so much more than an English 101 project, this was my teammate clearly struggling and I just wanted to be there for her, not as an interviewer, but as her friend. While I contemplated whether or not I should slide my chair over and give her a hug, she made my decision for me by continuing on. “I found out this morning; he told me it may be December. My doctor at home told me 6-8 weeks after I got out of my immobilizer, which would be September, my other physical therapist told me October – I just got told, probably December.” The shakiness in her voice constantly fluctuated with gaps of silence in between words or sentences. You could tell she wanted to be “tough” and not cry, but the topic was evidently difficult for her. Regardless she carried on. She tells us how hard it is to watch, especially now, considering she has 2-3 more months of just watching. But with this she also feels the responsibility of helping out another teammate, one that has to fill the role of point guard now. “So I guess coming in I thought I’d be back and I’d be able to start, and now I’m not gonna be back and now I have to help someone else take my position; next question.” Again there was a pause for a while. I was just so flustered with this emotion I hadn’t expected to see from her. I kept looking at my screen, at her, and back at my screen. I didn’t want to ask her these scripted questions anymore; it didn’t feel right. This was no longer an interview, it was us trying to be good friends and help out our teammate, and that’s exactly what we did. |
Camille's perspectiveMikaila, Caroline, and I walk into Mikaila’s cozy, little dorm room in Rauol Hall. All three of us sit, them in the two desk chairs facing Mikaila’s laptop, and me in her roommate’s fuzzy black chair. While Mikaila quickly sets up her computer, preparing to film the interview that is going to ensue, Caroline and I discuss the topic of our interview. I tell her about our project, and how Mikaila and I chose her as one of our subjects because of her injury. Caroline’s situation is unique to the other girls’ on our team because she broke her kneecap back in May running track.
I notice Caroline seems a bit distracted, and I quietly wonder if it has anything to do with her being about an hour or so late to the interview. But she offers no explanation. “Okay, ready?” Mikaila asks, having finished setting up her laptop. She proceeds to ask Caroline the first question. Caroline dives into an explanation of how she originally broke her kneecap. She tells us about how after it happened she attempted to run on it, which amazes me, because now, she can barely run at all. It is scary to think things can go from “Let me just jump once” to “Will I even be able to walk tomorrow” in a matter of seconds. She then continues to tell us how everyone thought she had torn her ACL, so when she found out it was “just” a kneecap break it was a huge relief. She says her mom even “almost cried tears of joy”. I ask her why that would be a relief of all things, because to me, they both sound pretty unpleasant. She responds by saying that in theory, an ACL tear should have a longer recovery compared to a bone break. The doctors told her she would be back, running and jumping in three to four months, whereas it would be closer to nine if she had torn her ACL. At this point in the interview, the atmosphere is almost positive and hopeful. Although I have talked to Caroline numerous times about her injury, this is the first time I got to hear the whole story. I am quickly reminded that this story is not an optimistic one when her voice drops, and she mutters, “Now, I’m going on 6 [months]. And today, I was told it’s going to be December. That’s going to be 8 months.” Mikaila and I sit there for a little while. Neither of us know what to say. We can both sense her anguish. Caroline’s eyes are angled away from us, trying to avoid eye contact. I can tell she was trying to hold back tears. It’s almost funny, of all days we could have interviewed her, we chose the day that she received some of the worst news any athlete could receive. Mikaila breaks the silence by saying what we both are thinking: “I really don’t know what to say, but know, we are both here for you. If you need anything, even if it’s something stupid, we are here.” Caroline doesn't saying anything for a little while. “I don’t know. I’ve lost all faith,” Caroline replied, almost under her breath. “Honestly I’ve never progressed this slowly at anything ever. Take my hardest subject in school. I can put on muscle faster than anyone I know, but I can’t put it on my leg.” I know how honest she is being, and I feel thankful that she feels she can be this open. But, all Mikaila or I can do is support her. I know it’s tough to be forced to sit on the sidelines and watch, but I know it was especially hard for Caroline. She is one of the most dedicated and hard-working people I know, so not being able to play is excruciating and I could see it in her face at that moment. At the same time, it is tough for me to relate to what Caroline is going through. I’ve never had an injury that kept me out of my sport for more than a month or two. Seeing her struggle makes me enormously grateful, and I remember how important playing the sport is to me. I want more than anything to tell her that it is going to be okay, that she would get through this, but really there is not anything else to say. |