Crutchiversary…
Pretty sure that’s not a word, but that’s okay.
Today, September 3, 2014, marks 2 years out of remission. Two years since a nurse in the Emergency Room handed me my crutches, saying I simply had an ankle sprain and that I’d be off of them in a matter of days.
When days turned to weeks, I knew that this was more than a sprain…my worst nightmare, the return of my RSD/CRPS, had come true.
I first got the e-mail about our “super secret” dorm initiation on the afternoon of September 3. I had spent the day shopping with some friends, doing some crafts, and settling into my new life at school. My suite mate and I had intended to go for a run that day, but the gym was closed so we held off. As I was trying to clear space on my computer, deleting pictures and scanning over old photos of my RSD limbs, a notification in my inbox said that we were to meet in the hallway at 10pm sharp, wearing something that we didn’t mind getting dirty. I had heard rumors about some people jumping into the campus pond, but I didn’t know if that’s what we were going to do. I felt uneasy about the whole thing but tried to be a good sport, so when 10:00 rolled around, I got in line.
One by one, girls were taken into the dorm lobby and matched up with a guy from our brother floor. Peeking over some heads, I could see that they were tying peoples’ legs together like a 3-legged race. Just that morning I had told my friend Annie about the day my RSD started with a 3-legged race, so you can imagine my growing anxiety as the red ribbons were tied. I leaned over to Annie nervously, saying, “I don’t know about this…remember what I said about the last 3-legged race I did?” I almost turned back and hid in my dorm, but it was too late. I was nudged to go take my turn, so I hesitantly made my way to the lobby.
I made eye contact with my partner for the evening, who gave me a fake rose while our legs were tied together. From that moment, we weren’t allowed to talk. Once everyone was tied up, the non-newbies led us into the darkness outside. We had to follow their instructions of crawling, hopping, and doing whatever else they wanted. If we talked, which my partner did, we were squirted with water. I tried to laugh along but in the pit of my stomach, I could feel that something was wrong.
We eventually made it to the campus pond, which confirmed my prediction. Just days beforehand we were sitting at the pond, putting candles with papers that we had written our fears on into the water. It just so happened that my fear for the year was that my RSD/CRPS would return…little did I know that this very place would be where that fear would become a reality.
By the time we all got settled at the pond, it was hard to see anything. The dorm leaders gave us a speech about becoming official members of the floors, and we were instructed to jump in the water with our partners. One by one, our red ribbons were cut from our ankles, which was such a relief. People began jumping in pairs, some choosing to simply walk through, others doing cannonballs. Seeing their stunts, I had the impression that the pond was fairly deep. I couldn’t see the bottom, especially since it was so dark. When it came time for Matt and I to jump, I went all in.
I must have blacked out when I hit the bottom, because the next thing I remember is crying in pain while about five other people were jumping in. I didn’t know what had happened, so I was confused and in agonizing discomfort. It took a few minutes before anyone realized what had happened. “Um, I think this girl’s hurt,” someone said. A few people helped me to scoot my way out of the pond and onto the grass. I was sprawled out, crying, wishing I could wake up from this bad dream. People continued to jump in the pond and soon everyone was ready to go back. My partner introduced himself to me before leaving with the group, and my RA and a few others stayed behind.
When the pain wouldn’t subside, campus safety was called. A man came to me with a small notebook, asking for details on what happened. I described the incident to him, trying to contain my anxiety while telling him about my RSD. The man called my mom, waking her from sleep. We talked to her for a while and I finally agreed to go to the hospital. I couldn’t straighten my knee or move my ankle, so I thought something might have been broken or torn.
After having X-Rays at the hospital while talking to the tech (who told me he had seen lots of injuries from that pond), I was taken back to my room where I was told that there was no major damage. “It’s just a sprain, so you’ll be fine,” the nurse said, even after I gave her the lowdown on my RSD history, noting that sprains usually aren’t so simple for me. Still, I listened to what she said and truly hoped she was right. I hopped away on crutches and finally returned to my dorm in the middle of the night, eager to begin classes the next morning.
I remember every second of that gut-wrenching night. The pain, the flashbacks, the tears. 2 years and many treatments later, I’m still fighting to regain use of my right leg. I guess it just goes to show you that you never know what a day will bring. I woke up that morning expecting to go for a run, get some things done, and prepare for a great year of leaving all my health problems behind. I was finally in recovery from anorexia and a cutting addiction and in remission from RSD/CRPS, and I was ready to face the world. I was so excited to begin a new, healthy chapter of life. I had no clue what was just around the corner.
I’ll never know why this happened. I’ll never understand why the best week of my life had to take such a sharp turn. I do know this: things could be worse, and while I sometimes wish I didn’t have to deal with this mess, I am grateful for all the friendships made, knowledge gained, and experience that I’ve been able to have as a result. It’s all part of the story that makes up who I am today. 2 years later and I’m still on this crazy rollercoaster, but I’m alive, breathing, and learning along the way. I guess that’s all I can ask for.
It’s funny how something so beautiful can be a part of something so devastating.
College on Crutches 