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Writer's pictureitallstartsintheho

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I love rom-com movies, documentaries, and some action-pact movies. I will never pick horror movies; science fiction is not my favorite either. But my all-time favorite are inspirational movies. My kids make fun of me when we have family movie nights because I gravitate towards the ones based on true-life events with an underdog or unfortunate situation at the beginning of the storyline, and the main character overcomes it by the end. It proves how grit, dedication, and perseverance make a difference. 


As you know from this post, my son had an unfortunate incident while playing a volleyball game. You can read about what God did so far. Now I will share the ending and conclude this chapter of the story. 

 

My son did finger therapy for three weeks and worked with the school trainers to improve his finger's agility and mobility. Every day, he attended his team practices and slowly started joining the team on the court. He wasn't 100%, but my son felt confident he could contribute. With the university's strict protocol, the head of the athletic department deferred the decision to play to my son's orthopedist before they could clear him to compete. The season's final three games would determine their ranking and if they would advance to play in the playoff round. 


This conversation with the trainers occurred on a Thursday; the first game was that Saturday. In order for my son to play, he required an appointment that day or Friday. My son left the trainer's office and immediately reached out to see if his doctor was available for Friday, but unfortunately, he wasn't. I tried to brainstorm options for him but only came up with ideas my son already pursued. I recall walking out of my office building and crying. The hope we had mustered up the last three weeks was snatched from us again, and my son's season was over. I remember fighting myself and wanting to call the athletic director, the orthopedist, and other people who might have connections. But I knew this was my son's story and responsibility, and I had to trust he would take care of it. He is an adult, and I had to let him be one. Plus, I had to believe God's handprints were still in the situation.  


On Friday, around mid-morning, my son received an email from the orthopedic's office, which said he would give him the green light to play only if my son was to secure a splint molded to his finger. My son went to his trainer with the requirement. Thankfully, the trainer was able to pull some strings and made an appointment with another medical office that created what was mandatory. After about an hour at the office, my son left with a splint he could wear for the weekend game.


My husband and I planned to support the team regardless of whether my son played. However, other family members who were just as invested in my son quickly changed their plans to join us and cheer him on and his team. 


We weren't positive how much playing time he would have. If it was a minute or the whole game, my stomach was in knots. I was praying the whole time for protection but also against any PTSD when he was to go up and block the way he did when he injured his finger. It was bittersweet to see him on the court again. Of course, I wanted to witness my son do what he loves, but I was also afraid of potential injuries.  


What changed my fear was witnessing his team, coaches, and fans clap and cheer for my son when he walked on the court. Even if they didn't know what he had gone through, they were supportive of his comeback. If I'm being honest, I cried then, too. It was like one of those inspirational movies I watched on Netflix, but only this time, it was my son.


My son played the last three games of the season and the two playoff games. He overcame the mental and physical injury and ended his season on a high. We found out about a week after the season was officially over that he was given distinct honors in his division for his season performance. Even with the injury, he broke his personal hitting record.


Lesson learned, don't put a period where God puts a comma. My younger son added, "The book isn't over, just the chapter."

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