Hello guys, if you’ve been following along, you might’ve noticed that a few of my recent posts were about skiing—how amazing it was and how much we really liked it.
Sadly though, an accident happened.
OK, let me explain from the beginning.
I got up extra early to go skiing. I got ready and headed up the mountain. The conditions were really bad that day, but that didn’t stop me. I got on the chairlift and I could barely see the chairlift in front of me
when I got to the top of the Red Four. I skied down a couple of times, the visibility was awful—I couldn’t see five meters in front of me. That’s how thick the mist was.
On my third run down Red Four, I cut off to the side to take a different trail: Red Five, which leads to Black Nine—the hardest run in the ski resort. As I was going down Red Five, I hit a small bump and fell. It felt like I was in slow motion. I went flying, even though I wasn’t going that fast.
For some reason, my skis didn’t come off. When I landed, one ski fell off, but the other one didn’t. It twisted sideways and—CCCCCRRRRRAAAAAAAKKKKKKK!!!!—pain ripped through my leg. I screamed for help.
Luckily, there were a few guys about 50 meters down Red Five. They came up and helped me stand. I called my mum and told her what happened. I stood up on my injured leg, and I could barely put any pressure on it. I thought someone had already called the snow ambulance for me—but they hadn’t. Instead, they asked, “Can you put pressure on it? Could you ski down? Do you think you can make it to the bottom?”
I wanted to say no and just get the ambulance, but for some reason, I said, “I’ll be fine.”
They skied off.
Usually, it takes 20 minutes to get from Red Five to the bottom of Black Nine. I spent 45 minutes getting down, skiing with my injured knee. By the time I made it to the bottom, the pain was so bad I thought I might faint. But I managed to get on the gondola that was one of the most painful 30 minutes of my life
I managed to get on the ski lift and make it to the base. Luckily, my mum and sister were there waiting for me. They helped me out right away, and we went straight to the ski resort doctor. He checked it out, took an X-ray, and said, “You’re going to need an MRI. I can’t see clearly enough with just this.”
As soon as we got home, we booked the appointment. Three days later, I went in for the MRI. It didn’t hurt less—it hurt more than it did on the day I got injured. They took the scans,
but they were only speaking Bulgarian, so we couldn’t understand anything. We got it translated later, and it said I had:
• A ruptured MCL
• A torn meniscus
• A slightly torn and stretched ACL
They said I might need surgery, but we should wait three weeks and get a second opinion from another doctor.
We stayed in Bulgaria for another week and a half. Honestly, that week and a half was some of the most painful and boring time of my life.
Luckily, we traveled to Florida to visit our grandparents and great-grandma. Florida was so much easier—it’s all flat, and we had a special chair where I could sit and keep my leg propped up. We even went in the pool sometimes.
While we were there, I got into fishing.
There was a lake nearby, and I caught two fish. The first one was a bit bigger than the second, but both were big. Most bass are between 10 and 17 inches. My first fish was 22 inches, and the second was 20 inches.
And then, before I knew it, week three hit.
We went to another doctor’s appointment. He didn’t think I’d need surgery and said I should be fully healed in about four months. I was so happy, not gonna lie.
We packed up and flew back to Guatemala.
We saw another doctor—a knee specialist. He said I could be better in six weeks, but I wouldn’t be able to run or do any intense activities yet. I might be able to walk, though, so I need to start physiotherapy.
Honestly, I don’t mind doing physiotherapy if it means I can get better faster. I’ll update you on how my knee’s doing soon.