*CRACK* *POP*
That's when I felt it, a sharp pain shooting through my foot. I fell to the ground, my lush tutu flopped down on my legs.
“Hannah!” my best friend Liliana called to me from the ballet bar. As they carried me out of the dance studio and into the lobby I remember Liliana looked at me, worry in her eyes. The big sign that read Dance Canvas Studio. I remember the other girls slowly following me out checking to see if I was OK. Through all the pain and commotion, I thought to myself:
When will I dance again? What will happen?
My dance teacher called my mom and dad who met us outside in the parking lot. In the moments when my parents rushed to me and we all hugged I didn't even remember I had hurt myself. I was just thinking of them. Mom and Dad.
We drove to the doctor’s office in our Honda Civic and found a parking spot.
We walked in - More like I was limping in-- tears streamed down my red cheeks. Soon a kind full nurse took us to a room, where she weighed me and measured me. The nurse wrote down that I was 5 feet and 5 inches, 120 pounds. My mom filled out a sheet with my information. Hannah Lee, 15 years old. She wrote down our address, 17 Blossom Lane. Springfield, Vermont. The nurse gave me some ice for my ankle.
“Doctor Davis will be in shortly,” she told us. When the doctor came in he looked at my information,
“We should probably take an X-Ray,” he said as he cautiously looked at my foot. The doctor bent my ankle and asked me what hurt when he put pressure on my ankle. He lead me back to a room and showed me how to lay and gave me a heavy vest to wear.
“You won't feel a thing,” he assured me.
Doctor Davis went into a little space behind a wall and typed something into a big computer. The machine moved a little and then took a picture. I think. I've never broken anything, only sprained my toe.
When it was done he came back and helped me out of the vest. We walked back to the room and he talked to my parents.
He told us that I would need a cast because the X-ray showed that I broke my ankle. He also told us we could put a cast on my ankle that day if my parents wanted to or we could come back the next day.
“Yes, I think Hannah should get the cast today,” my father told Doctor Davis after we discussed it.
“But I have a dance competition in 5 weeks!” I told him. He said the cast would only have to stay on for 4 weeks. I couldn’t believe it!
He called the nurse in and we all went to a different room. This room was smaller and had a sink and cabinets. I sat on the cold bench, thoughts were racing through my mind.
Will people make fun of me? How would I dance in the competition?
The same nurse started mixing things in a bucket. Doctor Davis asked me what color cast I would like.
“Purple please,” I responded. Purple is my favorite color. The thing they made the cast out of was cold. I had goosebumps up and down my legs. When the cast was on the doctor gave me a little tutorial on how to use my crutches. We walked around the hallways and I started to get used to them.
“You will need a friend to help you in school, don’t push yourself too hard,” He told me.
Mom and dad talked to the doctor one more time, about showering, school, and what I can and can't do. My parents didn’t even need to tell me. No dance for 4 weeks! That’s a whole month without ballet.
How was I supposed to survive?I thought to myself.
When we got home my brother Christian was waiting. He’s 14. He really wanted to sign my cast. So Christian, Mom and Dad all signed with a shiny silver sharpie. When I got up to my room my dog, Buster, was waiting for me. I gave him a quick tummy rub then flopped down on my bed. I called Liliana on my phone with a rainbow case. When she picked up the first thing she said was:
“Oh my gosh! Hannah! What happened?”
“I broke my ankle,”
“So you can’t dance? What about the competition?”
“I get my cast cut off a week before,” We kept talking about my ankle, dance, and what would happen at school.
That's when I felt it, a sharp pain shooting through my foot. I fell to the ground, my lush tutu flopped down on my legs.
“Hannah!” my best friend Liliana called to me from the ballet bar. As they carried me out of the dance studio and into the lobby I remember Liliana looked at me, worry in her eyes. The big sign that read Dance Canvas Studio. I remember the other girls slowly following me out checking to see if I was OK. Through all the pain and commotion, I thought to myself:
When will I dance again? What will happen?
My dance teacher called my mom and dad who met us outside in the parking lot. In the moments when my parents rushed to me and we all hugged I didn't even remember I had hurt myself. I was just thinking of them. Mom and Dad.
We drove to the doctor’s office in our Honda Civic and found a parking spot.
We walked in - More like I was limping in-- tears streamed down my red cheeks. Soon a kind full nurse took us to a room, where she weighed me and measured me. The nurse wrote down that I was 5 feet and 5 inches, 120 pounds. My mom filled out a sheet with my information. Hannah Lee, 15 years old. She wrote down our address, 17 Blossom Lane. Springfield, Vermont. The nurse gave me some ice for my ankle.
“Doctor Davis will be in shortly,” she told us. When the doctor came in he looked at my information,
“We should probably take an X-Ray,” he said as he cautiously looked at my foot. The doctor bent my ankle and asked me what hurt when he put pressure on my ankle. He lead me back to a room and showed me how to lay and gave me a heavy vest to wear.
“You won't feel a thing,” he assured me.
Doctor Davis went into a little space behind a wall and typed something into a big computer. The machine moved a little and then took a picture. I think. I've never broken anything, only sprained my toe.
When it was done he came back and helped me out of the vest. We walked back to the room and he talked to my parents.
He told us that I would need a cast because the X-ray showed that I broke my ankle. He also told us we could put a cast on my ankle that day if my parents wanted to or we could come back the next day.
“Yes, I think Hannah should get the cast today,” my father told Doctor Davis after we discussed it.
“But I have a dance competition in 5 weeks!” I told him. He said the cast would only have to stay on for 4 weeks. I couldn’t believe it!
He called the nurse in and we all went to a different room. This room was smaller and had a sink and cabinets. I sat on the cold bench, thoughts were racing through my mind.
Will people make fun of me? How would I dance in the competition?
The same nurse started mixing things in a bucket. Doctor Davis asked me what color cast I would like.
“Purple please,” I responded. Purple is my favorite color. The thing they made the cast out of was cold. I had goosebumps up and down my legs. When the cast was on the doctor gave me a little tutorial on how to use my crutches. We walked around the hallways and I started to get used to them.
“You will need a friend to help you in school, don’t push yourself too hard,” He told me.
Mom and dad talked to the doctor one more time, about showering, school, and what I can and can't do. My parents didn’t even need to tell me. No dance for 4 weeks! That’s a whole month without ballet.
How was I supposed to survive?I thought to myself.
When we got home my brother Christian was waiting. He’s 14. He really wanted to sign my cast. So Christian, Mom and Dad all signed with a shiny silver sharpie. When I got up to my room my dog, Buster, was waiting for me. I gave him a quick tummy rub then flopped down on my bed. I called Liliana on my phone with a rainbow case. When she picked up the first thing she said was:
“Oh my gosh! Hannah! What happened?”
“I broke my ankle,”
“So you can’t dance? What about the competition?”
“I get my cast cut off a week before,” We kept talking about my ankle, dance, and what would happen at school.