That's my left knee and it's not supposed to be there.

Come on, you can do it! I stood at the top of the mougel slope and considered my options. The easier way, where my husband stood at post to guide me,or the teenager free fall way. I chose the younger passageway. To my regret. As I navigated the course, I realized this was trouble. Too fast, too steep, too many mougels, too narrow, too late!!!! As I tried to gain control I reconized my left knee bent at neck level. As I realized this wasn't the normal place for it to reside, I felt the extreme pain. I immediately thought I had torn a major ligament. As the teenagers gathered around me, my husband long gone down the slope, their faces displayed dismay. I was hurt. I don't do well in the face of hurt or injury, just not my stongpoint. As my son checked my knee for a potential ACL tear, I felt sick. I felt out of place. I felt complete helplessness. I did not know how much further to the bottom. I did not think I could make it on my knee, thus the rescue by the patrol. I was so humiliated. I was so hurt, mentally. I had made a poor choice and paid for it. Once I was down at the clinic, I performed all the tests I could remember, to check the stability of my knee. Afterall, I am a surgical nurse, but no one would know it at this point. I assured myself and the medical staff, that if I could stand and bend without falling over, I could make it back to the condo. The casualities were much greater than mine as I surveyed the patient's waiting for treatment. Crooked arms, legs, elbows and sobbing could be heard from all angles. Parent's shaking their heads. Children wondering what happened. As I released myself from the clinic and we headed for the condo, my husband had more difficulty walking with his ski boots than I did with my hurt knee. He had to carry my skis. I had to carry the mental anguish of feeling hurt. Today, I sit writing this. I will have my knee checked out by one of my doctor friends on Monday. I have frustrated my family by talking about this accident too much. I have frustrated myself by going over and over the what ifs. I took pride in telling people I learned how to ski at 40. I took pride in surviving much harder falls. I have taken my pride to heart. I have cried. I have been angry. But, I am still me. I am still going to ski again. I am still proud of what I have accomplished on the slopes, but next time, I am going to stand and smile when asked to follow down the wrong slope, then wave as I follow the direction best for me and my knee.