The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I dealt with a couple of quite severe injuries this week.  Not quite catastrophic, as both these young athletes will one day be well and healthy.

It was my job to be there to take care of them when they were hurt.  It will be my job to do the rehab that gets them both back to playing their sports.  Running that gamut is what makes my job the best job around.

But it is also my job to help the injured athlete get through the emotional part of the injury.  And that part starts at the moment of the injury.

It starts with trust.  I don't believe in hiding anything from them.  I am honest with them about everything and then when I tell them that they will be OK, that they know that they can trust me.

That when they look in my eyes, they know that yes indeed it will all be OK one day.

We're currently rehabbing a big time marathon runner who also happens to be a friend of mine.  His knee surgery, which he knew was inevitable several months ago, has really gotten him down.  He is afraid he will never run again.

He and I chatted just the other day and I told him that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  That before this surgery, that light might be the train bearing down on him in that same dark tunnel.

But now the future is bright.  He will likely run again but has already decided that his days as a marathoner are over. 

So how do you help someone through the pain and the process of a significant injury?  When they are laying there with a broken bone or torn ligament, what can you do, what can you say, to help them get through it?

At the moment that they know that it is serious (and they almost always know without being told), what do you do to restore hope?

First, they need to see a calmness.  That can help set the stage for dealing with all these emotions.  

That's the caregivers, the family members, the coaches...everybody.

For those taking care of the injury--the doctors, the athletic trainers, the EMT's--doing your job, taking care of them with confidence is everything. 

Not too long ago, I dealt with a truly catastrophic injury--an injury that I knew was bad.  My words "you've just got to get through this" were what this person remembered most about the process of getting loaded up in the ambulance.

But in the end, I guess that there aren't really words to say that can help them bridge that gap from injury to wholeness again.  It really has to come from within.  You can only help (or hurt).

I want my kids (those athletes entrusted to my care) to know that I truly care for them.  That I only have their best interests at heart.  That I will never lie to them.

Kids are resilient.  Give them a chance and they will work hard to be as good or better than they once were.  It's another part of why my job is so great.

And seeing that light at the end of the tunnel is everything.