Lost Dreams Essay
March 21, 2005
Remember as a little child, and all those dreams you had? You did anything to make those dreams come true, only to find out in two minutes everything could change. The dreams were gone, the struggle it took to get there seemed futile, and the life that was once organized was useless. Less than a year ago, I found out what exactly what that meant; all the hard work, the planning, and the dream were gone in two minutes.
The sun was bright and sunny that April morning, Florida seemed to always start spring right. It was my first time in Florida and Walt Disney World. I liked the weather and, most of all I was happy to be there to cheer. As a senior in high school, it was my last year to cheer with the girls I have cheered with since I was seven, and if that was not enough it was my last year on an all-girl team. I was going to attend Florida State University in the fall of 2004 and cheer on a co-ed team. The Florida State University coach and the high school coach were there to see me perform. By the morning of the competition, I was ready to prove myself to the coaches and my team. We crammed into an old school bus to ride us to the competition at Walt Disney World.
When we got to the competition, I had to register in my individual event. After registration, the team got ready to perform.The smell of hairspray overwhelmed us as the representative of the National Cheerleading Association said, “Maryland Twisters, you may take the floor.”
My body got cold for the first time in seven years. I was scared of a two-minute routine that I had practiced a thousand times. When I stepped onto the stage, I could feel my heart as it rapidly pumped. I was scared, as we set for the routine. The first task to complete was a standing tumbling. “Come on Michelle, jump!” I screamed inside my head. “You have to pull your legs around.” I landed. “Good, next was running tumbling.” As I moved to the next spot to start my running tumbling, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I was the last tumbler to go. “sixfivefourthreetwoone” It was my turn. My legs started to run; my hands hit, then my feet. So far, I was okay. Then my hands hit again. Nevertheless, something happened; I did not get enough push. “Come on Michelle,” I thought to myself, “tighten your body, and wrap your arms.” POP! The next thing I knew I was on the ground grabbing onto my knee. I screamed out for someone to help me, “Stop the music, I am hurt.” By the time they stopped the music, my knee was the size of a watermelon. My father and tumbling coach picked me up and carried me off stage.
I went to the emergency room immediately. The doctors played with my knee and took x-rays. They injected me with needles and gave me painkillers, to ease the pain. After four hours of waiting, the doctor finally came back in. However, for some reason everything he said at that point on made me feel worse.
“How are you doing Miss. Baker? I hope you are doing well. No pain I take it?”
I wanted to scream, “YES I HAVE PAIN YOU BIG IDIOT AND PLAYING WITH MY KNEE DID NOT HELP,” but what I said was “No, I am doing fine.”
Therefore, he continued, “I have regretful news to tell you. You have torn your anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). This means that the main ligament in your knee is torn and you will need surgery immediately.”
I looked at my father with a confused face then, I turned to the doctor as tepid tears flowed down my face.
“Will I ever be able to cheer gain?”
The doctor looked at me as if he did not want to tell me what I already knew.
“Young lady, you have a serious injury. You will be lucky if you can walk properly.”
In that very second, my cheerleading scholarship to Florida State University was gone. The plan, I worked so hard for all my life, was gone.
After returning home, in Frederick, Maryland, my father set up doctors appointments with the local knee surgery’s and MRI centers. Meanwhile, I was trying to convince the cheerleading coach of Florida State University that I would still be able to cheer in the fall.
“Miss. Baker I have seen your type of injuries before. Even though, I am grateful that you have great determination, you are too much of a high-risk. Go to you local college get some credits out of the way and work on getting your knee to heal. Remember to keep up on workouts and dieting. And I hope to see you next year, Good Luck!”
Then the dial tone came on. I dropped the phone in disbelief. I did not know what to do with my life. I had everything planned out. “This was not part of the plan,” I yelled. “Why are you doing this to me?”
As days went on, I sat around feeling sorry for myself, not knowing what to do. I started to party a little more with friends. I started getting into trouble at school. Graduation came and went, and nothing changed. I felt depressed and I pulled away from the one person that stuck by my side, my father. I stopped going to church when I got my injury and really start to disbelieving in everything I was taught. However, my dad forced me to go one Sunday morning. My pastor spoke loudly that morning.
“I just wanted to welcome back a young lady in the front row. She stepped back from God for six weeks or more and now she is back. When I went to see her after she missed one Sunday, she told me that she was giving up on God because He gave up on her. Nevertheless, I looked at her with sadness. I did not understand why she felt this way. Therefore, now I am here telling all of you, God never gives up even if you stop believing. He will always be with you. And when he gives you a hard time, it is because he made you strong enough to overcome the problem, only you have to know it first.”
Through his sermon, I saw what everyone was telling me from the beginning. They told me that I did not have to give up on something just because I was given the harder road. That if I kept trying that I will achieve my goal being stronger, smarter, and more willing then I have ever been in my life.