Rematch

CHAPTER 1

"You're fully healed now," my Physician announced with a smile after my session with my PT, giving the MRI result of my knees a last look before filing it in a folder.

"Are you sure?" I pressed, still skeptical. It should be great news, really. But I wasn't feeling great at all. For the past months, I have been a frequent patient and I was anxious that this wasn't going to be my last trip. God I hope not. "Like a hundred percent sure?"

He looked at me from under his spectacles, as if surprised that I dared to question him. Afterall, we'd been doing the therapies since I started college. I couldn't blame him if he was sick of always assisting me. "You've been okay for some time now, Jazz," he pointed out.

"But sometimes it still hurts and my kneecaps feel like they'd dislocate or something," I reasoned, almost begging him to tell me I was not okay because I didn't feel okay.

"Ahh," he nodded as if an epiphany hit him. "Phantom pain."

"Excuse me?"

"I believe you're having phantom pain. It's common in athletes who have undergone severe or prolonged physical trauma," he explained. "You know what they say..." He tapped his pointing finger at his temple, "it's all in the mind."

My lips pressed in a hard line. How could he say that? I was the one actually feeling the pain and certainly, I wasn't imagining it.

Maybe he saw my hesitation or perhaps my reluctance to accept his words so he sighed. "I highly suggest that you stop using your immobilizer. It will keep straining your other knee which is supporting most of your weight." I opened my mouth but he cut me off. "You can use your knee supports during strenuous activities instead. But it is high time you learn to walk without them. Starting today," he said and nodded at my right knee which was clad in a support.

I sighed in defeat, tore the velcro off my leg and stashed it in my bag. "Okay."

He went around his desk and tapped me on my shoulders. "You can get back to playing basketball in no time." He walked to the door to let the next patient in.

In no time, I repeated in my head with a grimace as I walked out after thanking him.

Funny. A full year had already passed since I had the surgery to deal with the ACL tear on my left knee followed by an MCL strain on my right knee. So, in my opinion, that took an awfully long time. And my chance to be in the starting lineup for the upcoming Sports Festival was not looking good either. Not that I was hoping to make it in the roster. It was utterly impossible this late.

What's good however, was that Zoey was not around to accompany me since she had that photoshoot set up by her club. That way I didn't have to listen to her pep talks. Not that she gave any. I was pretty sure she'd tell me off for being pessimistic instead. My best friend could be very harsh whenever she gave anyone a piece of her mind.

On my way out, feeling a bit different because I wasn't walking with any type of leg wrap anymore, I felt my phone vibrate in my jeans pocket. I fished it out and silently groaned when I saw the caller ID. "Zach," I greeted with a sigh just as a taxi came to a stop in front of the hospital lobby and I got in.