Throughout my playing career I have seen countless teammates experience the same injury, but no two recoveries have been the same. Some came back stronger than before, others came back but took longer to regain their playing rhythm, others came back only to be injured yet again, and still others never even managed to come back. I obviously hope to be among the first group, a hope which will have to be accompanied by a disciplined rehab process.
I suppose before I go into too much more detail about the recovery, I should probably just come out and say what my injury actually is, if you have not already guessed. If you want another hint—especially if you follow international soccer—, it's the same injury that kept Radamel Falcao, Theo Walcott, and Victor Valdes out of the World Cup in Brazil. It's an injury which requires surgery and a minimum of 6 months rehabilitation before being cleared to compete again. Part of my resistance to directly state what happened is due to the resistance to admit and accept what happened to me, but our team psychologist (porteños love psychologists, which I will probably have to elaborate upon in another post) told me that acceptance is the first step towards a positive recovery. Well, here goes... In our game against Estudiantes de La Plata on June 8th, I tore my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) and medial collateral ligament (MCL) in my left knee during an Estudiantes corner kick with only 15 minutes or so remaining in the second half and with River winning 3-0.
I don't know what really happened. I think I just landed wrong, and when I tried to change directions to react to a rebound, I felt my knee collapse inwards and heard something pop. Honestly, I only vaguely remember what happened before the injury, and then, with perfect clarity, I can see myself lying on the ground inside the goal crying like I've never cried before, not so much because of the pain, but because in that moment my brain started to run at 100 miles per hour. First I thought about missing the rest of the game, then about missing the rest of the season, then about missing the Copa Libertadores, then about losing the opportunity to play with the national team, and finally about the injury possibly being the end of my playing career. It felt almost as though it had happened to somebody else, almost like those nightmares in which you watch yourself suffer your worst fears, not in first person but instead from a distance, helpless and unable to do anything but stand back and be a spectator to your own pain. (Slightly overdramatic perhaps, but in that moment, it felt as though my world was coming crashing down, all the hard work and preparation invested during this season and the previous seasons were rendered useless in a matter of seconds.)
Some of my teammates and some people who watched the match thought someone pushed me when I jumped. It was a mess in the box and that team is known for taking cheap shots. My center back heard another teammate say that an Estudiantes player had hit me, and she completely lost it—or so I'm told, I didn't even know she had received a yellow card after that play—, jumping up to yell at the referee and push a few Estudiantes players around. Either way, whether someone pushed me or I fell on my own, I was injured, and no looking back on how it happened was going to change that.
When the team doctor and trainer ran over to me, it took a while for them to calm me down, I only stopped bawling after they each did the initial ACL test, and both said it was negative and the only ligament which appeared to be injured was the MCL, which only requires about 2 months of non-surgical recovery and rehabilitation. To be safe, however, the doctor ordered an X-Ray (for any potential bone damage) and an MRI (to see the ligaments) of my knee for the next night to truly be able to diagnose the injury. Before my MRI, one of the orthopedists at River saw me and also did some physical tests of my knee, and he came up with the same preliminary diagnosis as the team doc and the team trainer, a sprain or partial tear of the MCL. Despite the confidence with which the medical team assured me that I had most likely only damaged the MCL, I couldn't help but consider the possibility that I had also torn my ACL after hearing so many stories of what my teammates felt when they had torn theirs.
The next afternoon, my fears were confirmed. The team doctor called me and informed me that the MRI report showed I had in fact torn both my MCL and my ACL (could I use more acronyms??). Luckily, I was with two friends who were able to confort me when I involuntarily began to cry yet again, not quite as bad as right after the injury but possibly in a more embarrassing environment, the cafeteria at my university. They helped me regain my composure in time to go to class, but it was still nearly impossible for me to concentrate on what the professor was saying as my brain was whirring once again at the speed of light, or so I'd like to think, considering all possible outcomes to my situation. Add to my concerns the constant vibration of my phone as concerned friends, teammates, and coaches sent me consoling messages, and you can understand why my page of notes for that 3 hour class was almost empty except for a few unintelligible lines.
The official team announcement regarding my injury was made during our weekly meeting with the club psychologist. Surprisingly, no tears were shed. Our team goal for the season is and has always been to win the league and classify for the Copa Libertadores, the South American version of the UEFA Champions League. Already we've had to deal with multiple obstacles, our roster has changed significantly since the beginning of the season, we have to fight daily with the mens' teams for the right to use the fields at the club, weekend after weekend of suspended games due to weather and holidays, but after each challenge we've grown stronger as a team, more united and more driven to accomplish our goal.
Sometimes I feel like I'm in a typical American, feel-good, inspirational sports film. Here come the underdogs, year after year coming in second or third, always falling short of the ultimate prize to their main rivals (Boca), but not this year, this year is going to be the one. Everything is coming together to make it happen; despite minor setbacks along the way, all the pieces appear to be falling into place, but then, when everything seems right, something devastating happens, a major injury to a player in a position where the only back-up has not played competitively for over a year and a half. Can the team overcome this seemingly impossible obstacle? My team's situation has all the makings for a great movie, and I know my team has the potential and the ability to achieve a glorious ending, but I wish my role would have been a different one or our obstacle could have been more like an anonymous enemy trying to sabotage our season... Nevertheless, the situation is what it is, and now I have to start the long road to recovery, taking it one day at a time.
Thankfully, I am blessed to be surrounded by a community of friends, family, and teammates who will help me along the way. My team made that clear before our game on Friday, holding up a banner which said: "Everyday is a new beginning. You are not alone. We love you Gaby!" Needless to say, in my current state as a "glass case of emotion", when I saw the banner, I began to sob tears of joy and sadness at the same time, thankful for the sign of support which I know is more than words.
So, here's to River Plate Women's Soccer and to the growth which comes along with facing the challenges life throws in our path.
