*Lindsay's POV*
Hunger ignited my soul.
One, two, one, two.
Fiery my lungs felt.
One, two, one two.
My body fought against the water that tried to fend me off.
One, two, one two.
I took one final breath before I performed a tumble turn and pushed off with my feet from the cold tile wall. I only had 50 metres to go. When I took a breath I looked at my competitors. A young woman from NYU was progressing closer. I couldn't let her get the win, swimming as hard as I could to reach the other end before her.
30 metres to go.
My legs were on fire, followed by my arms. I started to get nervous as I could feel the woman pushing in front of me. My nerves turned to anger as I started punching the water out of my way.
20 metres to go.
I couldn't let her win. I brought my arm up hard and fast, rotating it to swim ahead. It hit the water and I felt as though I had been shot. I let out a horrible scream into the pool's water, my arm feeling as though it had been ripped from my arm. All of my competitors swam past me in a flash, my dreams of winning a State Championship swimming away with them.
My arm was like a dead weight. A dumbbell weighing me down. I tried to paddle towards the edge of the pool, but the slightest movement caused an immense stabbing feeling in my shoulder. I rolled onto my back, floating towards the end of the pool.
Lifeguards and officials jumped in, lifting me out of the pool as best as they could without injuring my arm further.
But I'll tell you, it still hurt like hell.
I was placed on a steel bench and my family rushed to my side. I looked up to see my Mom, Alex; my best friend and my Mom's wife, and my incredible boyfriend Giovanni. Alex looked down at my shoulder and cringed.
"Don't look down," she winced, causing me to look down, like the idiot I was.
My shoulder was detached from my body, obviously dislocated. Looking at my arm only made it feel worse and I cried out in pain again.
It was not long before I was loaded into an ambulance on the way to hospital. They gave me this weird green whistle that tasted funny, telling me that it would numb the pain. They weren't wrong, but I couldn't exactly remember much of the ride regardless.
The next thing I remembered were the blinding lights radiating from the hospital ceiling as I was awakened. Mom, Alex, and Gio were all standing in my room, alongside a doctor. I could feel that my shoulder had returned to it's socket. The doctor read the clipboard and sighed.
"Hi, Lindsay. I am Doctor Wishart. I see you obtained the shoulder dislocation while swimming?" She asked.
I nodded my head and looked at her carefully.
"I'm afraid the anteroinferior dislocation occurred as a result of a shoulder impingement, most commonly known as swimmer's shoulder. Have you heard of it?"
I nodded again and answered, "Yes, my coach told me about it. She said it hardly ever happens."
"Well, it hardly ever happens if you don't put strain on your shoulder. However, swimming puts an enormous amount of pressure on your shoulder which most likely caused this injury," Dr. Wishart clarified.
"How long will it take to heal, Doctor?" Mom asked, and I looked over at Dr. Wishart for an answer as well.
She looked down at her clipboard then back up to my eyes, "I'm afraid a shoulder impingement is quite serious. While they can sometimes heal within a few weeks, with a combined dislocation I predict that it will take at least 3 month for it to properly heal, and potentially 6 months. I'm sorry, Lindsay, but you cannot swim during this healing process otherwise you'll risk injuring your shoulder to the point where you'll never swim again. I'll give you some time to talk this over with family, but come find me if you need anything clarified." Dr Wishart left the room and I felt a few tears flow down my face.
Swimming was my life. Sure, I had Mom and Alex, Gio and I were pretty serious, and I was studying, but swimming meant everything to me. It was my release, what I did to escape the pressures of life. When I was swimming, I was in control. I decided where I went, how fast I went, and how long I went for. My swimming was like alcohol to an alcoholic, drugs to an addict, or money to a gambler. Swimming was my addiction.
I had no words to say as my family attempted to comfort me. My livelihood was in jeopardy, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
~~~
Two weeks passed and Dr. Wishart had re-examined my shoulder. Like she had predicted, it would take months to heal. My mood had deflated. The depression was dragging me lower and lower.
Gio and I sat in my small living room, watching a movie on the couch. He hugged me and assured me it would be okay. I knew he was just trying to be optimistic, but I found no comfort in his words.
"I have an idea!" He decided, hopping up from the couch to grab the photo album from our recent trip. Over the past year and a half of dating we had travelled to Sicily to visit his family two times. The album housed all of the photos. He opened it up flicking through the endless photos of the amazing trips. The photos of us being stuffed full of his nonna's pasta, and our family basketball competitions.
The memories made me smile as I relived the moments. I looked over at Gio to see him smiling at me. I smiled back, leaning over to peck him on the lips.
"Thank you," I whispered, "I needed that."
Nothing else was said as we cuddled on the couch, eventually falling asleep to the cheesy romantic comedy playing on the television.
~~~
Whoever said college was easier than high school had obviously never gone to college. I was forced to wake at 4am just to be ready for my first lecture at 5am. What kind of college begins a lecture at 5am? Apparently Penn State.
While competing for Pennsylvania State University in swimming, I was also studying a Degree in Sports Management to better my career and open up more opportunities for myself. So, even though I couldn't swim, I could still learn about sports from a classroom.
My morning lectures were a drag and I ended up back at my small guest house in bed by 10am.
Gio had a lecture and Mom was teaching a class so I couldn't hang out with either of them. Alex had a study session so I went to see if she was in the main house.
Alex and my Mom had been together for about a year and a half, married for just over six months, and bought the main house together when we all moved to Pennsylvania from New York.
Fortunately for me, there was a small guest house at the back of the property, which I now reside in, making it easier to visit whenever I want to, but also providing me with my own privacy.
The back door was unlocked, so I let myself in. The house was quiet, only the soft hum of the television set being omitted.
"Alex?" I called out, walking over to the kitchen. A plate of reasonable-looking brownies sat on the counter and I went to grab one.
"No!" Alex shouted from behind me, scaring the hell out of me, "They are for Jess when she gets home."
I rolled my eyes, "Oh, come on. My Mom doesn't need all of these brownies. Besides who knows if they're even edible," I commented, poking at one that appeared to be bubbling.
"Fine, you can have one, Lindsay," she replied.
I went to grab one then realised, "I just said these probably aren't edible and you still told me to have one. Are you trying to kill me?"
Alex laughed and threw herself over and onto the couch. Her head poked up and she answered, "Yep."
I was about to throw an apple at her when the doorbell rang. Alex didn't even attempt to move, so I headed over to the door.
"I guess I'll get it then," I yelled as I walked away. I opened it and was greeted by a woman.
She looked at me a bit confused and I heard Alex yell out, "Who is it?"
My eyes returned back to the woman standing at the door. She was a similar age to my mother, maybe a bit younger.
Alex couldn't be cheating on my Mom, could she?
Thanks for reading!
Who is the mysterious woman at the door? Is Alex cheating on Lindsay's Mom, Jess?
Vote, comment, continue reading.
- T.J Starc