Monday 3 September 2012

September ; The Injury.

Hello again my fellow bloggers! This is my 3rd blog of the week and I am just putting out their that I might now blog every single day of the week but when I do, I hope you cherish my blog in a way you can't even describe! 
I am a heavily into sports especially basketball, I've been playing ever since I was 5 years old, so I've been playing it for 11 years. I am not a pro, nor will I be because I am not perfect. Anyways, when I have stuff on my mind I go out and play basketball, its stress free until its an actual game. I have to admit I have anger issues in my sports because I'm that competitive, I will give 110% even if I don't know the sport. I play all the tough sports out their from Lacrosse to baseball, to basketball to wheelchair basketball. Yes I did say wheelchair basketball. 

When I played Lacrosse I got hit by three girls just because two couldn't take me down... All three hits were illegal, and all three girls did get kicked out of the game. I lied their in shock, I didn't know I was brutally injured until I tried to get up, and I couldn't. You see, I don't show pain nor do I feel it. When I'm hurt I get back up and run it off because I was taught that way not to show your weakness... Anyways, my good friend Keri-Lynn ran to my side and was asking me if I was okay, I couldn't talk cause I knew if I did the pain would come. Seconds later my Dad ran to me, telling me to get up and stop babying it. I did what I was told, and fell again. I kept thinking to myself that I was okay, nothing was wrong and I was being stupid. Then I tried again, and then pain came over me and I felt sick, and the room was spinning, every time I tried to move my leg their was pain. My Dad knew something was wrong and when he ask if I could get up, I heard a small crack of sadness in his voice. I wanted to prove everyone wrong that I wasn't weak, so I rolled to my good side and used my one good leg to prop my self up. Then on a count of three I was on my one foot. I tried to use my lacrosse stick as support on my right leg but the stick was broken. My Dad rushed to my side and told me to walk off proudly, but I knew, that proud wasn't an option no more. My right knee was swelled to a basketball and I couldn't put any pressure on it, when my Dad left to to change out of my gear, I sat their crying cause I knew my day of sports and being the best that I can be was over.

I'm going to leave it at that tonight because talking about this still makes me upset. I promise to tell you the rest tomorrow.
Night world;
Arinn Young

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