Chapter 1, My Summer of Firsts
Janelle was helping me pack up the remaining items in the apartment when she came across a photo of me, my sister Amy and our friend Allison. I gazed at the photo and fondly remembered the events of nine years ago. We were standing with our arms around each other in front of the swimming pool in my backyard.
But, it was Amy's grinning face that brought tears to my eyes; I sorely missed her. Janelle saw my eyes were edged with tears and gave me a reassuring hug. My Dad appeared in the doorway and I turned away so he wouldn't see my eyes.
With my face downcast, I embraced him but my Dad gently lifted my chin with his hand and saw the tears.
"Why are you crying?" he asked with parental worry and I showed him the picture.
My Father was not a sentimental person but the sight of Amy in the photo caused him to sob out loud. I held him tightly and cried along with him.
As my Father was taking some boxes to the truck, I sat in one of the remaining chairs and recalled the life changing events that preceded the photo. In my mind, I saw the snow covered trails of Vail Mountain and...
ONE:
Amy's skis kicked up a mini snow storm with every turn as I followed my sister down the intermediate terrain on Vail's Back Bowl area. A powdery blanket of new snow covered the slopes and our early arrival meant that crowds were temporarily at a minimum.
By 11am the fresh snow was trampled by endless ski tracks and Amy wanted to warm up in the lodge. After several hot chocolates, I wanted to tackle a black diamond trail off the summit.
"I'll stick to intermediate trails." Amy stated firmly.
"Please Amy" I begged in a little girl voice and she regarded me with a sour expression.
"Ok" she sighed with the resignation of an older and wiser sister.
As we sat on the chair lift on our way to the summit, Amy voiced her concern and emphatically reminded me to traverse across the mountain in long "S" loop turns to keep my speed in check.
After we exited the chair lift, I kept a safe distance behind my sister as she conservatively skied over the nearly vertical terrain. But, less than half way down, I grew impatient with her "senior citizen" pace and skied ahead. I shortened my "S" turns and picked up speed but much faster than I was prepared to handle.
As I hurtled faster down the mountain, I tried lengthening my turns but lost control and fell to avoid going off the trail. It seemed as though I was tumbling in slow motion and real time reestablished itself when I came to a stop.
When I tried to move my right arm and leg, searing pain shot thru my body. I heard Amy screaming my name and saw her panic filled face when she stopped next to me.
"Jessica! Are you alright! She yelled.
"I think I broke something" I groaned.
"Don't move! I'm going to find the Ski Patrol." She said in a loud and concern filled voice.
I cried out in agony when the Patrol rolled me onto the sled/stretcher and strapped me in tight. Amy was sniffing and her eyes were brimming with tears.
"Dad's gonna meet us at the medical center." She stated in a breaking voice.
It was twelve noon on the first day of my long anticipated ski weekend over the Presidents Day holiday and my vacation was over. At the center, someone pushed a needle into my arm and my recollection of the next twenty four hours was hazy.
I recall hearing voices and the words fracture and knee. When I woke, I saw my Dad's very worried looking face.
"Hi Dad." I said in a light drug induced tone and he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
He described the extent of my injuries and it wasn't pretty. My right wrist was fractured and I sustained right knee ligament tears along with a right leg fracture.
"You're going to be here for the next week, maybe more." He said sadly.
My Father was explaining some of the procedures necessary to stabilize my leg, when I fell back to sleep. For the next two or three days, I was in and out of the conscious world.
During that time, an operation to repair my knee and place pins in my leg was performed. Slowly I was weaned off the pain medication and my journey back to reality was filled with hurt. As my rehab therapy started, my first tentative steps were blindingly painful.
Less than a week after my fall, my Father was sitting next to me in the hospital room and I was whimpering from the pain. But, he had that lecture look on his face.
"Jessica Ann, what were you thinking!?" he questioned angrily.
He always called me Jessica Ann when he was angry with me.
"I'm sorry" I cried with sorrow and the tears came unrelentingly.
However, the tears didn't soften his mood because he was well acquainted with my "crying apologies" during his reprimands.
"You're swimming career is in jeopardy and may be over unless your leg responds to a rigorous rehabilitation schedule. He said with the same anger.
Now I was weeping in earnest and he hugged me with a parent's unquestioning love. I was one of the best swimmers on my high school team and we were in first place at the end of the regular season.
"You're sister is blaming herself for your injuries." He said strongly.
"It was my fault Dad" I sobbed and saw Amy crying along with me.
Amy hugged me with sisterly concern as I cried my heart out.
Back home in California, my road to rehabilitation was long and arduous. Because I was in my senior year of high school, a school district tutor was assigned to me for six hours a day Monday thru Friday. However, two weeks later I was able to return to classroom instruction on crutches.
I attended some of the meets but my teammates lost in the district quarter finals. I was angry and frustrated with myself for my stupid behavior on the slopes. My lack of good judgment probably cost my team a berth in the state finals.
My senior year of high school was ending on a dramatic downbeat and I went dateless and on crutches to my senior prom. I was hoping to be crutch free by graduation and limped to the podium to accept my diploma.
With my acceptance to State U. partially based on my swimming ability, I started my own rehab program at home. My father had a pool installed in our backyard when Amy was in 10th grade and it saw a lot of use over the years.