Seven Months, And I Still Cry Over It
By: Carmen Ureña
One more month, another doctor visit
physiotherapy and tears.
Now, seven months and a half,
seven months and a half without seeing the light,
the light at the end of the tunnel.
Seven months and a half that to me
I ask myself with no hopes at all,
I’m I ever going to recover from this?
50 therapy sessions,
ultrasounds, magnetic resonance.
360 pills, Lidocaine and Corticoid injections.
but my pain is still there,
as a constant reminder of my barriers,
the ones I can’t overcome,
the ones that haunt me everyday.
is even worst than when all of this started.
and I just keep losing hope.
I have taken care of this injury as I have never done with any of my previous accidents.
Even though I hate it,
3,000 hours stuck resting in a bed.
Always the same, hot packs, cold packs,
magnetic waves, electric current.
3,000 hours stuck in that cabin,
and it still hurts,
even when I have to stretch the softest of the
strengthening rubber bands.
and I still cry over my lost of strength, muscle
Seven months, and I keep crying about my
tonified calves, thighs, and arms.
and I keep crying over the races I had planned for this year.
My hopes of competing around the world,
I toiled to reach time limits to compete around the world,
5 years toiling,
just to see all of my efforts vanish before me.
My bike, full of dust,
waiting for my recovery,
without anyone using it.
My cycling shoes,
waiting for me in my closet.
Every morning, afternoon, and night,
I open my closet,
I can hear them calling me;
while I can hardly walk.
without buying any running shoes, energetic
gels, goggles, or trisuits.
Seven months, that changed my life.
and I know there’s at least four more months of
Ahead of me,
and unusual Christmas,
an unusual New Year.
No parties or high heels,
instead, a cast,
crutches, and stitches.
What I thought was a simple ankle twist,
that will recover within days,
has turned into an unuseful foot,
My “insignificant” injury, has now destroyed
Seasons pass by,
and they grow back, but I’m still here.
The days pass by, and I feel numb,
trying to understand how to live with the pain I feel,
but it just gets worst every day.
Me, the strong woman,
or so I thought,
the Iron Girl,
is now crying,
crying because of her situation.
I toil not to,
but I keep crying,
Crying like a three-year-old on their first day of
and I now understand the importance of taking
care of injuries.
and I still try everyday to do what I love the most,
but I fail.
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