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Mackenzie Newman

Jackie Burr, Instructor

English 2010, Section 4

12 March 2019

All I Feel Is Pain

A loud dreadful sound blasted through my eardrums. I layed on a cold metal table while

encased in a large metal tube, covered in a thin warm blanket. The soundproof headphones I was

given did close to nothing to protect against the noise. Staring at the picture of a tropical view

posted on the ceiling, I thought that this was the solution I was searching for. That this MRI

would finally help me figure out what was wrong with my knee, yet the thousands of dollars was

not worth it as the doctor claimed nothing was wrong. I was angry. Not a single doctor was able

to tell me how to fix my injury. I continually thought to myself, “If nothing is wrong, then why

do I feel so much pain?”

My family never enjoys sitting still for very long. We are all athletic people,

considering that we each participate in completely different sports. It is rare to find a day when

none of us have work, practice, or a game. Although we love our athletics, it brings along a lot of

injuries. My parents and I regularly go to see a sports clinic doctor, as well as a sports masseuse

and a chiropractor. I have visited these doctor's offices so many times I would need more than

just my fingers and toes to keep track of them. All of this is because of a terrible knee injury, an

injury of which none of these doctors can understand the cause of it or how to fix it.

Entering the summer of 2018, my waterpolo team and I entered into the Junior

Olympics tournament located in northern California. My team had to play a total of seven games
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in the short time of three days. As the goalie of the team, I was treading for the entirety of each

of these games, with four quarters per game, a length of six minutes each. My knee began to

ache more with every single game. My mother believed at first that it was simply only a nott, but

I knew something more serious was happening. By the final game, it felt like someone had

stabbed a dagger into my knee. I was unable to exit the pool without my friends helping me, my

knee was immobilized. Heading home all I could do was anticipate for the doctors visit that was

coming to change my future. Unsure of what the specific injury was, the orthopedic specialist

prescribed me with an oral steroid called Dexamethasone with the hopes of bringing down the

inflammation and make the throbbing pain end. Sadly, the pills did nothing to help the pain and

only minimally reduced the swelling.

On my next visit, the doctor suggested a Cortisone shot that would stop the pain and the

swelling. My father had received one in his knee, and my mother had two in her hip. “That shot

worked miracles for your father and me. Our pain was almost completely taken away when we

got our shots,” my mom explained to me. With my parents' advice I decided to schedule an

appointment to receive the shot within a few weeks.

Nervous on getting this shot, I looked up information on the subject. I learned that this

shot and others like it had become the cause of many uproars and arguments throughout the

world. I learned organizations such as the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and the

NCAA have numerous articles published on the subject of steroids. This shot, if administered

incorrectly, can cause issues such as joint infection, nerve damage, osteoporosis, or death to

nearby skin cells. Even when administered correctly, the numbing of the area can cause

worsening of the injury due to improper use of the joint or muscle since the patient would not be
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able to feel it. Sometimes when this steroid gets injected into a patient, it didn't help and was

wasted when put into their bloodstream. All this scared me. First of all, I am deathly afraid of

needles. Second of all, I was worried that this shot would cause more or worse problems for my

family and me. Not to mention each shot is hundreds of dollars for a few ounces of fluid. None

of this even seemed worth it to me. Why would I do all of this for just a chance of removing the

pain?

As I went along with the shot, I thought that this was it. Everyone told me it would

remove the pain and that I would no longer have to deal with the ache in my knee. When my

mom took me to get the shot, I laid on a cold table wearing a pair of uncomfortable shorts. With

the help of an ultrasound, the doctor injected the cortisone into my knee. “This is it,” I thought,

“within a few days I would no longer have this burden of a knee.”

The shot didn't help me. Even with everyone telling me that this pain, this limitation

would be gone, it was still here. I remembered that when I looked up information on Cortisone

shots, it said that they don't always work. “I knew it wasn't worth it!” I growled at my mom. My

mother had just wasted $400 on a shot to my knee that did nothing; I was furious. Why do they

have these shots, these enzymes that are supposed to heal an injury that cost a fortune, if they

don't even work?

As time went by we stopped visiting the doctor and began to ignore the issue of throbbing

pain in my knee the best that we could. My swim season came, and I could handle the pain, I had

my limitations, but it didn't stop me from doing what I loved. Then without understanding why,

the pain began to grow worse, almost even unbearable. My mother and I decided it was time to

try something different. We went to yet another visit to the orthopedic specialist, and he
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suggested an MRI to solve this mystery once and for all. Going to the hospital, I entered a room,

laid on a cold table and got the MRI. While waiting for the results I began to question, “why

can’t any of these doctors seem to figure out what was wrong with me, but now with this test and

scan of my knee I will finally know the answer.” I was going to be able to return to the water

polo; the sport that I loved. I wish that were the case.

A few days later I walked into the doctor's office worried but also reilved that I would

finally get the answer I needed to figure out my life. The doctor asked me to sit down and

procceded with a faint laugh. Confused, and almsot mad, I glared with anticipation. He smiled as

he said, “tell me where the pain is on your knee?” I pointed to the inner side of my right knee just

below the knee cap. “Right here on the inside of my knee,” I said confused since he should

already know this. He continued to laugh and said, “The MRI only showed some cracked

cartilage on the outer side of your knee. Nothing is wrong with that area of your knee.” There

was nothing wrong with my knee? Nothing! He began to list off all the options at this point, but I

couldn't hear a thing. I zoned out confused and frustrated that there was supposedly nothing

wrong. Then why is it that all I feel is pain if nothing was wrong? There had to be something

wrong. I turned to my mom, “What do we do now?” She then replied with hesitation in her

voice, “It's up to you.” I decided not to get another shot because it didn't work last time. Why

would I get another injection that was $400 if it wouldn’t work for a second time? Disappointed,

I began to question, why do doctors stand by this steroid? Why do people think the money is

worth the chance of it getting wasted? Would I ever be able to find a cure for my continuous

pain? With all of this drama, I wonder to myself, how many people have gone through the same

issues as me?