5,6,7,POP

Pop. That was it. There was a pop, and I knew, I knew that my life had just been changed. I was at work, living out my dream job as a cruise ship dancer (as I have for the past almost 5 years). I was performing a lift with my partner when some misplaced weight caused me to / come crashing to my knee - accidents happen. And thats when I heard the pop - this is something that took me a few days to finally admit. I knew what that pop meant and was holding on to any ounce of hope that maybe I was just hearing things and maybe it wasn't going to be that bad. There was no physical pain… nothing - what there was, were the terrifyingly loud screams of heartbreak. In that moment I knew that my life had changed. I was supposed to spend my summer dancing on the newest most beautiful ship, in some of the best shows I have done in my 14 year career, I was supposed to be back in the beautiful Med, ripping through Mykonos on ATV’s and living my best Grace Kelly dreams walking the streets of Monaco, and I was supposed to do all of this with my boyfriend and friends. When people ask me if it hurt I say no… (when you tear a ligament thats it - its gone), however the instant heartbreak was the worst pain that I have ever felt in my life.

My cast instantly dispersed throughout our gigantic training facility. Some running out of the studio within an instant because they couldn't watch, some running literal circles on the spot until they could register their thoughts and get ice, some trying to keep me calm and comfort me, and one even fainting. Before I knew it this group of people who had become my family were making shit happen.

I was taken to the hospital where I had to get a series of X-rays done in order to determine if there was anything broken or dislocated during the fall. The team in the hospital must have been so confused because I was telling them my pain wasn't that bad (between a 4-6), however the look on my face read a solid 11. They kept reassuring me that I was going to be fine, nothing was broken and nothing had been dislocated - in the moment I did not see how this was good news considering something else was still seriously wrong with me. Something to know about me, I am stubborn and curious as all hell, a “need to know it all” kind of person - often earning me nicknames like wikipedia and google, so leaving the hospital without an actual diagnoses was absolute torture for me.

Over the next few days the anxiety slowly started to sink in. What was happening to my body? I was given a diagnosis of a sprained knee by one doctor, who had told me I was going to be okay and would be fine to return to work in no time… I loved the sound of that, 16 year old me would have taken that piece of information and ran with it… straight back to work. However, I am not 16 anymore and I knew that there was no way that this was my diagnosis (I still hadn't told anyone what I had heard when I fell, because I still had not yet been able to come to terms with that). I requested an MRI before returning to dance, to make sure that I was not going to make anything worse. I will never forget the words he said to me as I was leaving the room, he said “Don’t worry sweetheart, you will be fine as long as nothing is torn”. - great.

I know that they say don't google anything because you will go down then dark hole where now all of a sudden you are convinced that your leg is going to fall off, but I did. I was not okay with sitting there just waiting a few more days to find out what was wrong with me. I started looking up my symptoms, and began refreshing my dance kin knowledge that was a little more than rusty. I wanted to make sure that I knew how to explain where my pain was and understand what exactly I was feeling (ALL DANCERS SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO THIS). I reached out to different people who I knew had experienced knee injury, to physiotherapists and trainers that may have some idea of what may have happened simply from what I could tell them. The same thing kept coming up… ‘As long as nothing was torn you should be okay, if something was torn, thats not good’. - again... great!

A few days later I was getting my first ever MRI. In that 15 minute time spent listening to High Hopes on loop (thank you MRI place for providing me with one song), I just kept thinking, “I really did it this time, I am really hurt” (this is a thought that I had to come to terms with over the next few weeks). I was in a different country, I was hurt, and I was getting an MRI to see just how bad it was - what the hell was happening and who's life was I living. *side note, you want to know difficult - difficult is playing upbeat music for a dancer while they have being told that they have to remain absolutely still.

Two days after the MRI I went back to the doctor where I found myself hoping with every ounce in my body that he was going to tell me that I had torn my meniscus (how twisted is that, hoping for an injury of that level?), only simply because through all of my research I learned that the alternative was much, much worse in terms of recovery. Well… it was the worser of the options- I had torn my ACL (I will explain and elaborate this later). I immediately broke down, again feeling the most overwhelming amount of emotions rush over my body, and that little ounce of hope in my heart get completely stomped on. Once again the doctor said, 'it is not that big of a deal, lots of people have this injury, you will be fine'. Luckily for this man, who was just trying to comfort and incredibly distraught version of myself, I was completely unable to get any of my fighting words out. My boyfriend piped up and told him I was a dancer. The look on the doctor face immediately changed, he all of a sudden understood what was happening, and that change of hope on his face just reassured me how bad this really was. This year was going to be very different than I had originally planned.

As I said before I am one of those people that needs to know everything, so I immediately hit the ground running (or hobbling), my full time job became researching this injury, the people that have had this injury, and just how I was going to get better. I was overwhelmed with the amount of information and all of the different options and opinions. One main issue I was having was that there was not much information about dancers, and the specific needs that we have when it comes to this injury and our return to the stage. I will be sharing what I have found, and how I was able to decide on an action plan very soon.

Days since injury- 80 Days until surgery- 5