How did I do on my exams? Who knows, just a distraction while they are putting something into my wrist to knock me out. Surgery time again. I know the drill now. I will be in one place and then in an instant, I will be else where. It is scary and disorientating but maybe it will work this time, maybe I will get better…

Or maybe I will not be able to walk, maybe I will be in a worse place and I will never be free from pain, maybe I will…

I come to again, I hate feeling hot when I come to but I try and resist moving, I have had this happen too many times now and I just grip the sides of the bed. Need to focus, need to think, don’t panic, find your words again. Mum at least can read me and helps remove the blanket to help me cool down and I relax, my grip lessens. I don’t really try to make conversation and just look at the bandages on my legs as my brain starts up again. At the very least I won’t ever have to go back to school again. No matter how badly I did on my exams I am done, it only mattered about getting the exams done and not how well I did.

“How did it go?” I finally ask, I know she clucks like a hen to get all the information she can, she is a good mother.

“They are hopeful but it depends how it heals,” she replies. They are hopeful, I have heard that before, this is my fourth surgery and they are always hopeful. I just let out a sigh and try to lose myself, but without distractions it is hard. I know I will be constantly checked on for a few days, then released back home and that is exactly what happens, most of the day post-surgery they check every fifteen minutes until it is time to sleep. My vitals are generally good, there is not too much blood through the bandages but still it hurts. The painkillers are on the five-minute lockout timer and I still have to pace myself, I know if I use it more than eight times I will vomit so I save my last button press for when I sleep, the last thing I do before closing my eyes is take the last dose I will get to have before it is removed in the morning.

This has been my life for too long it feels like. In and out of hospital trying to be able to heal. Maybe it will be different this time, no I don’t think it will be. It won’t be any different, I don’t even believe it any more but what can you do except fight? Give up? Accept the pain and have it so some asshole will rob you and cause you immeasurable agony? I can’t accept that outcome. Honestly, at times I consider the other option, the more extreme option but no surgeon will remove the source of the pain, not while there is still hope.

The days at home pass slowly. Sometimes I manage to watch my old tapes, never the one I fell from grace in, the one I stopped being able to chase my dreams. I honestly wish I had managed to get a gold medal but silver? Silver is still more than I dared to dream. I was very young considering and had a bright future ahead of me. It is odd to revisit the past after packing it up.

It doesn’t take long to be back on the anti-depressants, a short break from them at best. Dwelling on the past isn’t a good thing. I can’t escape it. I did well enough on my exams but I am not going further with my education. I doubt I could handle another few years surrounded by people. Still, when it is time to move forward again I put in all the effort I can muster. The pain is so extreme that ten doesn’t even begin to cover it but I push through, this is my life, and I will fight for it.

And fight I do. Every rehabilitation session I give it my all. Every challenge I rise to. If I can be one of the top in a sport I can do something as minor as this no matter how many painkillers I have to take. I can be just as strong as I was then. I have to be strong. I have to make it just a small thing to overcome instead of the mountain.

Another two surgeries later and the outcome isn’t just a hopeful now, it is actually looking promising. I am twenty years old now, I haven’t skated for so long I honestly worry I will have forgotten everything. Rehab it starting to get better. It still hurts but I am actually starting to take less painkillers. Maybe there is hope I will be able to skate. I have no idea what the surgeries did, specialists use fancy words but I think they basically had to keep repairing my legs, keep fiddling with the bones to make sure they didn’t have extra growth. Make them mend in the correct shape, make sure the blood vessels connected right and would cover my legs enough to supply them with what I needed and being careful not to cause nerve issues every time they worked on me, even fiddling with my nerves I image. I will never wear skirts or dresses again, I mean I never really liked wearing them but now I have an excuse to actively avoid them.

The worst part is I am still forbidden from skating. Until I get the all clear in their words ‘it is off the table and will put your legs under too much stress’. I had to ask mum to hide my board so Scarlet is likely wherever Silver is. I miss her, I miss my love. She was my life, while boards come and go there is something about the one we are actively using. I still count her as my active board. I have never known love to another person, what is attraction even? I just love to skate. Does there need to be anything more complex than that?