They were smiling at me, hoping that I would stay in for the rest of the game. That’s when power ran through me, smiles started to appear on my face. And that’s when I knew I was going to play the rest of the game ,and I was going to play the rest of the tournament. Even if my arm ached. When I looked at my coach she gave me a thumbs up ,and I gave her a happy thumbs up back.
Mindi had been hoping that it had been just a little pull in a muscle or maybe a slight sprain. Dunaway had reached the x ray room and got all of her x rays done. Once the x rays were done, Dunaway and Mindi were then transferred into the waiting room to get results. The nurse came back with a big box, Mindi and her daughter had exchanged looks and Dunaway said, “This can’t be good.”
After rounding first, second, and third base I was approaching home plate and tripped. My natural instinct was to try to catch myself as I was falling, but it did not work out like I hoped it would. When I returned to my feet, I realized my thumb was just hanging there, and my whole hand was filling with a sharp thumping pain. As I was headed
I exclaimed! My arm had hurt like it had never hurt before. It was a sharp pain, that ran up and down my arm, like mice scurrying away from a cat. My dad jogged over.
After I thought about it for a while, I realized that he said it in a loving way, the same way I have heard him tell my sisters and my mom for so many years. I began to cry harder and continued to cry tell I finally fell
I can’t move my arm from below the elbow. I panic as I try to move my fingers. I can’t. I can’t even feel my skin brush against the cold grass. My arm, from the tips of my fingers to my elbow is solid metal.
By improving each contact into a hittable ball, I am able to set my teammates up for success. An opportunity that I was able to lead off the court was by hosting a team meal at my house before senior night. We were able to bond during this night together. I also organized the senior
I sat up and was wondering why there was so much pain in my left ankle until I looked at it. When I saw how twisted my ankle was I yelled in pain and called to the closest person to me. He quickly yelled for everyone to stop and they all gathered around me. They carried me to the truck and drove me back to his parents house. From there we went to the closest hospital to get my ankle checked up.
But these thoughts were short lived as someone bumped my foot, causing another gut wrenching streak of pain to shoot up my leg. After I made it back home, I attempted to nurse my ankle to the best of ability but my lack of experience with injuries made it difficult. Waking up the next day I immediately knew my ankle had gotten worse. It was swollen to the size of a baseball and was almost as black as a night in a country town. Standing up was a very difficult task.
The lady then looked at the paper and realized it was wrong and started to laugh and said “ I am so sorry I wrote the wrong one down.” I knew that if I didn 't notice the papers they would have done surgery on my right knee instead of the left knee. I was moved to another room where other people were surrounded by nurses getting prepared for surgery. The moment I was stationed in my room I was surrounded by different nurses. There was the anesthetic nurse, the head nurse, the assistant nurses and even the nurses that are in training.
My knee hit the concrete and my knee burst open with blood coming out and I was rush to the nurse’s office and once we got the
“Zoe, the floor has already been swept once today. We don’t need it again,” Mrs. Dibbens hollered, as she walked closer. I slowly got up grasping my wrist, trying to make it seem as nothing happened. Looking down at my arm, I could clearly see it was crooked. After leaving school, I was headed straight to the emergency room.
It’s just a internal wound.” He bent it back in place after he said that. Then i went to the office and called my mom to pick me up. My mom told me to rest and that we 'll go to the doctors tomorrow.
Air ball— again. My form was lost, coordination gone, and so was my patience. I’ve stopped playing basketball for 3 months mainly because of school work and things going on in my life. I was determined to get my skills back no matter how long it’ll take. I started a game of basketball with other people inside the gyms court.
Everyone has own opinion and understanding of the favorite sport in life. We are all different, and our tastes are too distinct from each other. Somebody of us prefers aggressive sports such as boxing, kickboxing or MMA (Mixed Martial Arts). Some of us like a dynamic sport such as hockey, football or basketball. Someone interesting in tactical and intelligent games: chess, billiards or poker.