My 5 stages of pain…

First stage: SHOCK. My right pinky finger was numb… My right ring finger was a bit scraped up and there pieces of the little grains on a baseball field in the cuts. It hurt, but I couldn’t tell how much pain there was yet.

Second stage: AWARENESS. As I gazed upon my injuries, I started to see more random tiny cuts in other places…my right wrist, my left elbow, my left palm… I couldn’t move my fingers (partially because I didn’t want them to fall off) because of the pain, I knew I couldn’t play anymore. I washed everything, got ice, took Tylenol, and jealously sat and watched my friends playing sports and having fun. I guess it didn’t really help that everyone kept asking me to move the finger to see if it was broken. When I showed that it could move on its own, everyone was relieved…everyone but me. The choir director walked by, looked at it, and immediately declared it was broken. Gee, thanks for freaking me out and adding to my distress.

Third stage: PAIN. Self-explanatory.

Fourth stage: SADNESS. As I was walking around with friends and ended up kicking the volleyball that everyone else was bumping and setting, I soon realized how tragic my situation was. Not only was I afraid that I wouldn’t be able to fully do the little choreography there was for my a cappella performance (which is next Wednesday), I am also on the swing team on campus and our performance is this Thursday. Of course, we have an aerial that includes the use of both hands…not to mention that partner dances involve using both hands. The sadness that came was directed toward both of those groups. I practiced so hard, and then this happens, and we won’t look our best now…because of me. My love for sports has once again failed me (I didn’t make my high school teams).

Fifth stage: ACCEPTANCE. I felt like I could cry, butI figured what’s the point? My tears won’t heal my hand, my tears won’t make my “teammates” happy, my tears won’t help anything…so I did what I usually do and held it all in. I can’t change the fact that it happened and I now must live with it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s