Surgery — the seven-letter word that turned my sophomore year of college upside down. After almost a year of pain, countless needles being poked into my leg and over 20 doctors’ appointments, they finally figured out what was wrong with me. The doctor said it was a rare injury called Compartment Syndrome. I had never even heard of it when they told me, and I didn’t have a clue how I had gotten it. Next thing I knew, I’m being wheeled into the back room to prep for surgery. What I didn’t realize was how this would not only affect me physically but emotionally and mentally as well.

I’ve been playing sports since I could walk, I’ve been running competitively since I was 9 and I’ve been rowing for seven years now. Never have I sustained an injury that put me out for over a week, let alone an entire year. If this wasn’t 0 to 100 real quick then I don’t know what is. I knew my leg wasn’t doing well, but I figured it was something minimal like shin splints that would heal after rest and a few ice baths. But after the test results came back, surgery was the only option to fix it because of how bad it had gotten. I was surprisingly optimistic in the beginning; the doctor said I would be on crutches for only a week and that I’d be able to get back in a boat within a month and a half after surgery. I had my hopes high and my expectations higher. And that was my biggest downfall.

Jan. 8, 2016 at 1:40 p.m., they knocked me out, cut open my right leg and took care of business. Three weeks later I was finally off crutches, and it’s been over three months and I’m still not cleared to practice again. The process has been slow, slower than I ever imagined, but I’m getting there. The deadline the doctor gave me was long gone — the expectations were destroying me. Emotionally and mentally, it’s been a tough journey, almost as tough as it has been physically. I’ve been missing out on practices, races, team lifts and an overall active lifestyle. This put me into a downward spiral and I was sad all the time. I couldn’t get that extra boost of endorphins that was greatly needed after a stressful day. I didn’t get the support of a team that I was so used to having for all these years. I felt alone, miserable and disabled.

I remember sitting in the athletic field house a few days after surgery watching my trainer unwrap the bandages on my swollen, yellow-stained leg with stitches on the side. I sat there and thought to myself “Jesus, why — why this, why now, why me?” I was so distraught over the fact that I wouldn’t be able to go for a run or go row that I didn’t even bother to try to look for something positive. I was confined to crutches, on medication that made me feel worse rather than better and I was sick of being stuck in bed and still feeling like I had no energy.

After a few weeks of feeling like my world was ending, I got a kick in the butt from a Jesus-loving lady whom I look up to. This turned everything around, and luckily for me, I was able to focus on something that’s a little (well, a lot) more important than college athletics and my own personal problems: Jesus. The reason I am here today, sitting at my computer typing up this article. The reason that everything in my life is the way it is. The reason I am alive today, it’s all because of Jesus. From that point on, I knew I had to just trust Him. I continually reminded myself of that, and when I’d fall down, I’d pick myself back up (literally and metaphorically). Although this journey has been tough, I appreciate it for what it is. It’s allowed me to grow as a person and as an athlete. It’s allowed me to put more focus on academics and other involvement opportunities, and more importantly, it’s allowed me to grow in my faith.

James chapter one, verses two through four state that “when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing." This verse has been pushing me these past few weeks. As the semester begins to end and my team heads to the most important part of the season, I will be sitting the sidelines and cheering from there, and that’s okay.

I know the journey is far from over and I still have a lot of work to do, but I look forward to it. I enjoy going to physical therapy everyday now and I’ve enjoyed seeing myself turn from an unmotivated, injured athlete to a positive and excited semi-injured athlete. I’m making progress and although it’s slow, I’m thankful for it. So, thank you Jesus for sidelining me and showing me what’s important, thank you for picking me up when I fell, and thank you for giving me the energy to get out of bed and live everyday. I would not be where I am without You.