Today I got a call in the middle of my lecture from my mother. Anxious to hear why she would call me then, I ducked out and answered the phone outside the classroom. She told me to think back to what happened one year ago. As soon as she said it, it hit me like a sack of bricks: Exactly one year ago today, I was on a mountaintop in New Hampshire, telling my sociology teacher how much better off I was on top of a mountain at that very moment than back at my room at home playing video games. I also said that I came on every ski trip since my freshman year because snowboarding gave me such a freedom that I could not get any other way. Of course, my words were skewed when, on that very run, I was cut off, ran off the trail only to have my leg broken by a fallen tree. Even now, I can remember the blood-curddling scream I let out.
The next nine days afterwards were hell, 4 surgeries, compartment syndrome, and the chance I was going to lose my leg. The absolute stress was unbearable. Panic attacks, vomitting, and tons of Percoset detailed a full week and a half of my life. And to make it worse, 2 months later I had to go back in for another surgery due to a fuck-up that my surgeons didn't realize.
All of this one year ago.
11 of the last 12 months were centered around an injury, and its still hard to believe it ever happened. I keep thinking back to what I've accomplished over the last year and what I want to do with this one.