Injury Fears

I've finally been rostered for my first ever game with the Battle Broads... We'll be taking on the ladies of the Circle City Socialites in Indianapolis.

I'd be lying if I said I'm not afraid.

It's the injury talking, I know, but it's still a tiny bit terrifying to will your knee to heal in 2 weeks so you can play your first ever bout against a team that you know virtually nothing about.

(I'm actually going out on a limb writing this, because I know some of the CSS ladies could end up reading this as some of them follow me on twitter and tumblr...)

ANYWAY.
I know I'm not the only one who is slightly worried. My teammates have been asking if Alice will be ready for gameplay...
My answer is that I don't know- which might be the scariest answer of all.


I am afraid that since it's my first bout, I'll play poorly, I won't block efficiently for my jammers, I won't be a good asset as a teammate...

That I'll re-injure myself because I'm playing like I'm scared.

I'll get over it, I'm sure.
But in the mean time, I'm going to sell my body (see also: plasma) so that I can buy 187 pro's before the bout at Indy.

Frustration.

The roster for our first B team game is out.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bitter or angry or sad about it.
I understand I'm on the injured list... I get it. I know that knee will take at least one more week of healing, if not two.
But I am itching to get my skates on and hit someone. Especially someone who is on a different team....

I know, I know... Once I'm healed and all better, I can go tear some shit up.
But right now is when I start to feel like everyone is going to progress past me... and my team is going to resent my time off when I come back and expect rostering or playing time.

No one talks about this part of injuries, because it blows and no one wants to read it.
No one wants to think about having to receive the roster email when they're not on it. No one, when they're pissed about their injury, particularily wants to be that supportive teammate who attends all the away bouts and cheers everyone on, but would rather be on skates.

I guess I'm just tired.
I drove 3 hours to KC to visit the family, I did 12 loads of laundry (give or take), watched a bunch of movies... Tomorrow I have to go to church with the parents (and have an impromptu, unwanted high school reunion with all the people who didn't and don't talk to me anyway...), then drive to Kansas to have dinner with my brother, sister in law and newphew, my parents and my sister in laws family.
I love my family, I really do... But I think I'd rather be in Springfizzle, moping about, knowing there's always someone who wants to hang out with my bad attitude for a bit, no matter what time of day.

Gross. This is all so whiny.

Broke and Broken.

My knee hurts. Yes, I do whine and complain a bit.. But, today, my knee hurts.

I had my follow-up appointment with my Ortho today. I had originally schedule the appointment with an ortho surgeon that my derby wife (AKA Thugz N Kissez) works with on the surgical floor... However, when I got to my appointment, it was with another Ortho (not a surgeon...)..

He actually ended up being really rad and the Wife and I were able to talk about derby for a little bit. He thought Alice the Hematoma was incredible, and very pretty. :)

He squished around, poked and prodded, and eventually said, "Okay, you have two options- you can let it ride, and be aggressive with ice and elevation and bracing, or we can drain it and give you a cortisone shot."

He could see the hesitation on my face, so he said the wifey and I could have a chance to chat about it, and he left the room... I then allowed her to tell me what to do, since I am A, irresponsible, B, a scaredy cat, and C, hesitant when someone suggests shoving a giant needle under my kneecap.

He was incredibly jazzed when I told him I would allow him to shove steel into my knee. (I'm fairly certain he just wanted to see the junk he could pull out.. heh..)

So, he came in with two nurses, and the wife documented the ordeal with photos which I hope she'll post somewhere so I can share them here with you- I know I was making really stellar faces during the impromptu procedure. :)

He rubbed me down with iodine (kinky? sigh... I wish. He was a FOX.), and then stuck me a few times with a numbing agent.
Then jabbed me with a needle that resembled something out of a science-fiction film.


He proceeded to jab and suction and jab and suction.. Homeboy was trying REALLY hard to get something - anything - to come out. His hands were red, and his muscles were a-shakin'... He happened to mutter "Shit, this hurts my hands!" and when nothing came out on the third or fourth try "SHIT." Which, of course, made me laugh. :)

We were all a little disappointed that congealed blood, reminiscent of grape jelly, did not come slithering out of my knee cap.

However, THANKFULLY, he unscrewed the plastic syringe contraption and screwed on a tinier version to squish the cortisone in- instead of stabbing me again. :)
This was much appreciated.
However, a cortisone shot was, and excuse my language, the weirdest fucking feeling I think I've experienced. It was thick and made my knee feel very, very full and taut.

Once it was over, he shook our hands and went to leave- but the wifey had made $80 brownies for the surgeon we expected to see, and gave my Ortho one. (Which, um, might've been the best brownie I've had in ages- and I'm a BAKER. Incredible. I chose a great wifey!)
After he had the brownie in hand, he left the room, but about 4 seconds after, poked his head in the door, and in an almost-whisper asked, "Do you want more pain meds?"

Um... is this a trick question?

The downside to this whole lovely experience was seeing the cashier. I never have an issue with the whole unemployed (because my manager was sexually harassing me and wouldn't stop calling me a lesbian once she found out I play roller derby... (and really, lady, I've been called worse. "Lesbian" is the most creative thing you could come up with??)), no insurance scenario until I have to talk to grown ups about grown up things like how much money I owe the hospital when I know I only have $50 in my bank account... (41.99 of which I spent on my pills...)
Thank God for the wife, again, for being a more responsible, attentive grown up than me.. I was so overwhelmed with giant needles and foxy doctors and numbers and figures.. Everything got lost in translation.

My wonderful parents came to the rescue and gave me a loan so I could get a percentage off my bill by paying the day-of the appointment. Thank God for my parents- I really am a lucky girl for having such caring, generous, wonderful, loving parents. They really really saved the day.

So. I filled my Hydro prescription, went home and felt sorry for myself since I was broke and broken.. Then I applied for some jobs. Because I need one ASAP.
Preferably one with insurance, but definitely one that pays decently.

This post is very rambly... I blame it on the narcotics.



I also attended practice tonight. It made my heart ache, but also made my heart glad to see that my teammates of the Battle Broads, and the ladies of the Rowdy Unrostered are improving by leaps and bounds. I'm so sad I'm not on the track with them, but I know that for the bouts coming up, we have some really stellar ladies fighting for our B-team rankings. :)

We even joked about taking an SRG Crips photo full of awesome-sauce and blue bandanas, as there were 4 injured ladies on one bench, watching the practices.

Maybe I'm broke... and maybe I'm broken.. and maybe I broke Sandra Day O'Slaughter's car window on accident... But I am literally forced to count my blessings for having such amazing people and experiences in my life.

And now, it's 5:10am and I am exhausted.. I must rest and prepare myself for Unemployed Lunch Friday... Where Molotov Coqtiz will be paying for my orange soda. We might all be unemployed (or on our lunch breaks...), but we sure know how to take care of each other.

grumblegrumblegrumble.

It seems the old adage is, indeed, true. Things do get worse before they get better.

It seems my knee has grown a mind of its own, instead of being controlled by moi. Today, I thought I would pick up my car from the shop and drive it back to the apartment- there's no knee-bending in that operation.
There is, however, foot maneuvering, which my knee did not appreciate.
My knee also didn't appreciate the freedom I gave it yesterday by using both crutches and not my immobilizing brace, as opposed to one crutch and my brace. So So, in backwards fashion, I'm back to two crutches and my brace. Lame, slow, and awkward- but it gets the job done, and I'd like to be as healthy as possible as soon as possible as it seems we have derby girls dropping like flies right now.
We have at least 5 injured. Me, with my hematoma, 2 girls with strained/torn shoulders, one with a messed up foot, and another girl with knee problems. And last I heard, one of our girls hurt her back (again) last night.

I suppose my frustration with my injury, and everyone else's injuries, is that we stretch and do plyometrics and take care of our muscles and bodies (for the most part)... So it seems strange and a bit silly that we still get injured, even taking such precautions to strengthen ourselves against such accidents.

But I know it's not IF a derby girl will get hurt, but WHEN.
Which leads me to looking at the bigger, more successful leagues. What are their injuries like, if any? What is the ratio to girls injured versus girls who are healthy and without injury?

Take for example leagues like Oly and Rocky Mountain... (you should know that the second search option on Google for Oly is "Oly Roller knee pads" lol)
Atomatrix - holla!

Those silly bitches wear cheap pad sets bought at places like Walmart. (Granted, I know not EVERY Oly Roller/RMRG/Nationals Ranked rollergirl wears tiny bandaid knee pads. It is the exception rather than the rule.. but STILL) I know this is because they are such strong and talented skaters that they don't fall down... THEY give the beatings, they don't take them.
But what stops those incredible ladies from being so easily injured?
(And as a sidebar.. look at that stellar form. I just... Holy shit. I can only hope that someday I'll have form like that....)

Is it because derby owns their lives, and they practice 3, 4, 5 times a week? Is it because they have better or longer training than us new baby leagues? Is it because their off-skate training is better or more intense than ours?

I really don't spend that much time pondering these types of things, but maybe I should. Maybe we all should.
What makes WFTDA Nationals leagues any less prone to injury?
Or ARE they any less prone to injury?

And further more, I think leagues should have a standing prescription at pharmacy's for pain killers. Maybe that sounds a little narc-addict of me, but let's face it- sometimes a tylenol3 really does the trick... :)

Sigh. Just my random musings while I ice my knee and wait for the ibuprofen to kick in...

I leave you with a new photo of Alice, my hematoma... Taken yesterday... the bruising has spread a little more to the inside of my knee, and a bit down my shin...

I just popped a few ibuprofen in preparation for a 3 hour car ride to Arkansas...
This should be an adventure.

My brother and I didn't get sick or hurt a lot as kids.. So, now that we're adults (I'm 25, my brother is 32?), and we get sick or hurt... we're helpless whiny babies. My brother- who is married and has 2 children- texted me "My belly hurts. Where is mom???"
I laughed at him... But then again, if I didn't have E, the wonderful roommate, I'd probably cry a lot more than I do now. lol
(I cried yesterday because I was having a breakdown and missed the first movement of my last orchestra concert. Because I'm a winner. So i stood backstage and cried - technically, I made it in time for the downbeat, but I was backstage, not ON it. The guest Tenor patted me on the back, gave me some clean papertowels for my hot mess of a face, and told me to sneak in at the beginning of the second movement. Lovely man, he was.)

anyway. more later, must depart!

Injury.

Injury isn't something we derby girls talk about.
Sure, we like to compare horror stories of things that are already past us... things we've already battled through and won.

But what about when we're going through it?
What about when your knee is bruised and swollen, trapped inside an immobilizing brace while you hobble around on crutches and you're baked on codeine, crying because you can't sleep, but you don't want to get up to go pee?

It's a lonely world, the injured world.
I have had incredible teammates come hang out with me, bring me soup, bring me all-natural bruise remedies...
But those moments when you're stuck on the couch (or orchestra rehearsal) getting Twitter updates from the game the All-Stars are playing in CoMo... well, those are hard.

In case you're wondering, yes. We're talking about my knee.
It's incredibly difficult to be a rookie who hasn't played her first game yet.. and to get injured the first night we skate on our new floor, right before rosters are decided for our first Battle Broads game...
I can look back and think "I should've bought those 187s.. if I had, I wouldn't have fucked up my knee in these protecs."
"If I would've gone to open skate, I could've gotten used to the floor before practice..."

But if I'm being honest, I did everything correctly during the pack drill, and that's why I hurt my knee.
Someone hit me, blocking for their jammer, I went down to a one-knee fall. My knee/kneepad stuck, and the rest of me kept going.
So I, of course, being uncouth with the vocabulary of a sailor, yelled choice curse words, and covered my face with my hand.
I do not accept defeat and I do not openly admit I'm hurt; Thursday night, I threw my helmet.

Eventually, I crawled/hobbled off the track and I sat around for a while with ice on my knee. It wasn't until I started thinking that I have to go on LOA, and if I do, then I won't be eligible for rostering for the Ft Smith game that I finally started to cry. So I headed to the bathroom, took off my shorts and tights, and sat on the floor and cried. And cried. And watched my knee swell up. And cried.
I am not a crier.. but my knee looked like this:



...and that's before it actually started swelling. By the time I got to the ER (thanks to my derby wife's mad driving skills, and good rapport with her hospital staff), it looked like this.



When you get injured, no one talks about how scary it is - not just to be injured in general - but to have to decide for yourself, for your team, what's better.. To play on an injury? Or to sit out and heal? Having to decide if your injury is bad enough to visit the ER, or if you can wait until later...
having to decide should you even go to the ER when you don't have insurance?
(Thinking about paying those bills while sitting in the wheelchair, being wheeled to the X-ray room...)

But what about life after injury?
I don't know anything about it, because rollergirls don't typically talk about their fears or their worries.
Well.
I'm one rollergirl who is all about talking, and putting my feelings out there.
And I'll be blogging about this injury. Because in all the injury blogs I've read about derby, they only talk about "doing what's because for the team might be what's best for you too" etc etc etc.

Horseshit.

Doing what's best for the team right now means I'll be sitting on my ass for a while. It means I've volunteered to bench coach for our games even though it seems that a Bench-Coach decision was already made without consent of the team or our captains. Mary Lou Wretched, our fearless co-captain, is a swell lady. She brought me soup, Arnica for my bruise, and a smile when she said she thought me bench coaching was a fun idea.
If anyone knows about injury, it's that lady. Several months ago, a few girls in Texas sandwiched her and broke her collarbone.
I know I'm Type-A and have just recently begun to work out 4/5/6 days a week... but Ms. Wretched is quite a tough cookie.. Going from running miles and miles everyday, to sitting on the couch because she's broken.. Well. She's the inspiration, not me.
(if you so choose, you can visit her blog at and check out her posts)

Right now I'm struggling to see the bright side of things when my knee hurts and I'm feeling sorry for myself and I'm being a big ol' whiny baby... Maybe it'll get better. I'm hoping it does.

But for now, I suppose I'll go take a shower so I can get ready for my last orchestra concert ever.
Then come home and eat some pills. :)

But I'll leave you with this glorious photo of me fucked up after my ER visit... My derby big sis thought it was hilarious and sent it to Wicked saying "@WickedSkatewear never looked so good. Even in an emergency after practice! http://plixi.com/p/92549174"
heh...

Just because I'm a derby girl...

—Does not mean I don’t appreciate kind or gentle words from a man in regards to my character or beauty.

—Does not mean I want you to talk to me in a disgusting, demanding and constantly innuendo-filled manner

—Does not mean I’ll go home with you after I’ve only had ONE beer… or ever, for that matter.

—Does not mean I am constantly my Derby alter-ego. I am still a lady, a college student, a musician, a baker, someone’s little sister…

—Does not mean that because I am wearing hot pants it gives you, a male, the divine right to slap my ass anytime you feel it necessary.



It DOES however mean:
—I’m confident and strong.

—I have 50 girls who will go to bat for me if shit ever hits the fan, or if I just need a squish every now and again.

—It does mean I can stick up for myself, and will do so if I need to.

—It means I’m better than dealing with men (and women, as it were..) who act like children, because I have enough to handle and do and take care of with my jobs in the league. I don’t have time to deal with your antics.

—It means I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

—It also means I’m perfectly capable of holding my liquor.

—It also means if you, as a man, continue talking to me like I’m an object, I will castrate you and have no qualms about it.