Cheer, crutches and love chapter 4

 Cheer, crutches and love

Chapter 4

As we stepped onto the field for the final day of cheer camp, I could feel the weight of all the pressure and expectations on my shoulders. My heart was pounding, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, pushing the pain in my sprained ankle to the back of my mind. The energy in the gym was electric, and I was determined to give it everything I had.

We started our routine with precision and grace, each move flowing into the next. The crowd's cheers fuelled my determination, and for a moment, I forgot about the pain, my injury and the possible consequences. But as we approached the more intense stunts, I could feel the strain on my ankle. I pushed through, determined not to let anything at all slow me down so close to the target.

Then, it happened.

As I went up for a particularly difficult tumbling pass, I felt the ligaments in my ankle stretching past the point of no return and tearing. My ankle gave way beneath me. Time seemed to slow as I desperately tried to correct my balance, but it was too late. I landed hard and awkwardly, my right ankle twisting violently as I crumpled to the ground. A sickening crack echoed in my ears, followed by a sharp, searing pain shooting through my ankle and leg. The pain was so intense that everything went black for what felt like five seconds.

When I came to, the world around me was a blur of noise and chaos. My vision cleared, and I realized I was lying on the ground, surrounded by my teammates, their faces pale with shock and fear. The pain in my ankle was excruciating, unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt like my entire leg was on fire.

"Hailey, don't move," Nick's voice broke through the haze, calm but urgent. I could see the concern etched on his face as he knelt beside me, his hand gently resting on my shoulder.

"Help is on the way." I tried to move, but the pain was too intense, radiating up my leg and into my entire body. I bit back a cry, tears welling in my eyes. The reality of the situation began to sink in. Something was seriously wrong with my leg.

Within moments, I heard the sound of sirens approaching, and the gym floor was soon swarmed by EMTs. They quickly assessed the situation, their faces serious as they carefully cut away my cheer shoe and sock to reveal my swollen, discoloured ankle and lower leg. It was already starting to bruise, and the sight of it made my stomach turn.

"We're going to need to stabilize your leg before we move you," one of the EMTs said, pulling out a splint. I winced as they gently lifted my leg, the pain nearly unbearable. Nick stayed by my side, his hand gripping mine, his presence a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

"You're doing great, Hailey. Just hang in there," he said, his voice soft but steady. I nodded weakly, trying to focus on his words instead of the pain.

Once my leg was stabilized, the EMTs carefully lifted me onto a stretcher. I could see the worry in my teammates' eyes as they watched, some of them wiping away tears. I wanted to reassure them, tell them I'd be okay, but the pain was overwhelming, stealing my voice.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity, every bump in the road sending fresh waves of pain through my leg. Nick rode with me in the ambulance, his expression tense, though he tried to keep me calm with small talk and reassurances. I could barely focus, my mind clouded with fear and pain.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was whisked away to the emergency room. The bright lights and sterile smell of the hospital only heightened my anxiety. Doctors and nurses swarmed around me, asking questions and checking my vitals. Everything was a blur of voices and faces.

"We need to get some X-rays to see the extent of the break," one of the doctors said, and I was quickly wheeled down the hallway to the radiology department.

The X-rays were agonizing. Every movement of my leg sent a jolt of pain through my body, and I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. When it was finally over, I was returned to the ER, where Nick was waiting for me.

"It's going to be okay," he said, his voice soothing. But the look on his face told me he was just as worried as I was. After what felt like hours, the doctor finally returned with the results. Her expression was serious as she looked at me and Nick.

"Hailey, you have a severe fracture in your ankle," he explained. "Both major bones are broken in multiple places, and there's significant ligament damage as well. We're going to need to cast your full leg to keep it stable, but you may also need surgery. Time will tell"

The words hit me like a ton of bricks...broken bones... Surgery....cast... I hadn't expected it to be this bad. The reality of my situation sank in. My season was over. My chances of getting back on the mat anytime soon if ever were shattered.

Nick squeezed my hand, his expression filled with empathy. "You're strong, Hailey. You'll get through this." I wasn't strong and wasn't sure about anything.

The doctor explained the casting procedure, and before long, a nurse arrived with the supplies. They carefully positioned my leg, and I winced as they began to wrap it in soft padding, followed by the hard pink fibreglass shell that would become my cast. The whole process took about an hour, though it felt much longer with the pain pulsing through my broken leg.

When they were done, my leg was in a very long and heavy pink cast that covered my whole leg completely from mid foot. The sight of it was surreal. It felt like a prison for my leg, a constant reminder of the injury that had brought me down. A real nightmare since a small ace bandage on my ankle was one thing but this huge and heavy cast...well...A real pain..

The doctor returned, explaining the importance of keeping weight 100% off my leg and the need for crutches. He also scheduled a follow-up appointment to discuss the possibility or need of surgery once the swelling went down.

As I was wheeled out of the ER, Nick was right there with me, holding my hand. The shock of everything that had happened was still sinking in, but I was grateful not to be alone.

"I'm here for you, we'll get through this together."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me, but also the comfort of Nick's support. The road to recovery was going to be long and difficult, but I knew with him by my side, I could face whatever came next except a long period in a cast. I hated leg casts or casts of any kind to be honest, clearly remembering my broken arm in grade 6.

Later on that evening as I lay down on my bed, staring at the long pink cast, I couldn't help but feel vulnerable and exposed. My usually beautiful, toned and athletic leg was now hidden beneath the thick fibreglass, rendering it almost unrecognizable.

"Hailey, you look beautiful as always," Nick said, standing in the doorway of my room. He had come to check on me and see how I was adjusting to life with a cast. My crutches beside my bed against the wall.

"I know this must be tough for you, but I'm right here with you, every step of the way."

"I know, Nick, It's just... I feel so insecure about myself right now without cheerleading for the first time in my whole life. Like I'm broken or something." I said rubbing my pink cast.

"You're not broken, it's just your leg, you're strong, and you're going to get through this. I promise you that."

"Okay, you're right. I just need to focus on my recovery and getting back on my feet again. Let's admit this for some fetishist I would be a top prize ha ha"

"That's the spirit, now, starting tomorrow let's get started on your physical therapy exercises. We need to make sure that your leg muscles don't atrophy while you're in this cast. You need to be mobile starting tomorrow on your crutches even if the pain will be bad."

As Nick stood in the doorway, offering his comforting words, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Could Nick be... into this, could he be a fetishist? The way he was so attentive, so eager to help, even when it came to something as simple as wrapping my injured ankle with bandages, it felt like more than just concern.

The way he looked at me, especially when I was vulnerable and in pain, seemed to carry an intensity that I couldn't quite place. And then, there was the way I felt when he did it, the careful wrapping, the gentle touch. A part of me enjoyed the attention, the feeling of being cared for so intimately. Did that make me just as strange?

Was there something wrong with finding comfort, maybe even pleasure, in the way he cared for my then sprained ankle?

I shook the thought away, trying to focus on what he was saying, but the idea lingered in the back of my mind, nagging at me. Could this be some kind of fetish for him... or even for me?

The thought lingered, as I lay there, staring at my long cast, feeling more exposed than ever.

Cheer, crutches and love
Chapter 5 to come
K