For weeks, maybe months after the accident, Alex had two goals. She was determined to get back to the last month of her Co-op (a six- month, full-time internship incorporated into her degree program) and hopeful to once again play rugby. Neither goal happened.
The Trauma
She and I were working to put her life back together in Philadelphia just weeks following the car accident that nearly took her life. After suffering from 10 broken bones, a severe compound concussion, jaw surgery, and multiple soft tissue injuries, all Alex wanted was to return to her normal life. All I wanted was to support her, as her mother, in overcoming the sudden and violent hurdles that had arisen.
Even though I now have a better understanding of trauma, back then I didn’t know how to react to her desperate desire to play rugby. She grieved the thought of never playing again. It was more than a sport to her.
Community Shows Up
I soon discovered what my daughter already knew. Rugby is more than just a sport; it’s a community. As the saying goes, football is a gentleman’s game played by hooligans, and rugby is a hooligan’s game played by gentlemen.
On the field, teams build trust and teamwork, but it’s off the field where these bonds truly shine. It really hit home just how special rugby is when I saw her team rally around her during her recovery. They were there for her every step of the way, helping with everything from errands to emotional support.
It’s one thing to hear about the tight-knit community in rugby, but it’s another to see it in action when it truly counts. Their dedication left me speechless, showing me the true heart of this sport.
The Grief
Over and over, Alex talked about when she could play rugby again. Once, when Alex wasn’t nearby, I spoke privately with Bridget Wiseley, Drexel’s Head Athletic Trainer for Club Sports. I asked her if she believed there was any chance she could ever return to rugby. Though she thought it was unlikely, she suggested not telling Alex because removing hope can be as devastating as extinguishing a light in pitch darkness.
Bridget not only knew to give Alex the space she needed to let go of the sport she loved, she also guided us through several unfriendly police stations, recommended the perfect medical team, and loaned us a cooler (since the hotel had no refrigerator).
Bridget, who was the first Philly girl I had known personally, became a hero by showing up for two doe-eyed San Diego girls.
Acceptance
After some time, Alex finally accepted that she would never play rugby again. Her doctor, a rugby player himself, confirmed it once she was brave enough to ask. About a year later, Alex called me with the news that she had taken up sailing as a new sport. Yes, there’s a sailing team at Drexel University in Philadelphia. Who knew?
Fast forward to Wednesday night, May 16, 2018, a year and a half later. Alex was honored with the title of Athletic Training Comeback Athlete of the Year. Pictured above with Alex is the Philly Girl herself, Bridget, along with Alex’s Athletic Trainer, Mike Watkins.
Through watching my girl literally fight her way back to life, I’ve learned a tremendous amount about the human spirit. Alex has more drive and tenacity than anyone I know. And yet, she could not have risen as strongly and triumphantly without the support of her community. There are so many to whom we will be forever grateful.
As you can read here, it’s not always been easy for me, or my girl, to ask for help. But I can say this now. As a mom, it’s incredibly comforting to know people will be there for my kids when I can’t.
Thank you Bridget, Mike, and the entire Drexel rugby team, from the bottom of my heart for supporting my comeback girl.