Not everyone is prone to getting injured. If someone was, then there would probably be a scientific study going on right now on how this person is able to not sustain an injury.
However, I have been fortunate enough to get injured multiple times. Even on occasions of doing things that I enjoy doing.
A recent one would have to be when I did middle school basketball. Yes, middle school: the epitome of trying to figure out who someone is and what group they belong to. I would not find out what group I truly belonged to until high school, but for now I was playing basketball in the midst of a time where I would try every sport (except golf). But one game would determine the rest of my eighth grade playing season as I would feel a snap in my ankle trying to do a lay up during warm ups before a game in Bay Village, Ohio.
I would be on the bench the entirety of the game with an ice pack on my already swollen right ankle. But it did not stop me from cheering on my team even as we would lose the game.
In between the regulation of the game and the halftime, my teammates would carry me into the locker rooms and then back out to the bench. At the end of the game, still being subsided on the bench, the players from Bay would come over and shake my hand even though I was in the same position for the entire game, never even playing a second of this game.
The only positive of this entire experience was that I was rolled out of the school in one of those chairs designated for teachers to my mom's car. No, I did not go home on the bus with the team. I went straight from Bay Village to Cleveland Clinic Emergency Room in Avon.
At this point I exaggerate that my right ankle looked like the size of a softball. I do not think it was exactly that size, but it looked like it.
After almost an entire evening in the ER, the x-rays couldn't exactly see what my situation was but I was put on an air cast and crutches. Crutches. I have never been in crutches until this day.
A couple of days later, I would find out I would have a high ankle sprain and be put on a boot for six weeks, also known as the rest of the eighth grade regular season. I thought at this point basketball was over for me and I should just give up.
But my mom said to not let this injury get the best of me.
I would still attend some of the practices that would happen after school and watch what would go on in case there was ever a chance that I would play again. One practice, my coach was able to have me act as an "opponent on defense" while helping my teammates with dribbling around an opposing team's player. Not only was I able to be helpful in practice, but I was able to sit on the bench in my basketball uniform and cheer on my team, win or lose.
Not only was I able to enjoy still being a part of the team, I was able to still enjoy doing everyday things, like shopping with friends even if my friend tells me to sit in a wheelchair while she rolled me around Target.
In the end, I would end up playing during the eighth grade girls basketball West Shore Conference playoffs (back when the West Shore Conference was a thing). Even though it was only for one minute and 45 seconds, it was one minute and 45 seconds more than I thought I would play at the end of the season.