The room is so very bland. That icky not-quite-beige, not-quite-white color. My heart is racing. Tiny beads of sweat are starting to form on my forehead. I can’t sit still, my legs bouncing in nervous anticipation. The doctor walks in, his face as bland as the walls. I try to make a read on what’s coming next, but can’t. File folder in hand, he sits down.
“Well, it is not good news. Your MRI shows a full thickness tear in your meniscus. I think we can fix it, but it would be my recommendation that you never skate again.”
Wait, what?! What did he just say?
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