Back in kindergarten and first grade, I used to love playing on the monkey bars during recess. When I was about seven to nine years old, my parents signed me up for gymnastics at American Kids. I went every Tuesday and Thursday. I loved the bars, beams, trampolines, cartwheels, handstands, the splits, and much, more. I enjoyed it immensely, until the surgery. One day after gymnastics practice, I was looking at my hands and realized how one was more puffy than the other. I told my parents.
Every day, my mom put a little pressure on it with two of her fingers and asked me, “Does that hurt?”
It hurt when she really pressed on it. I told her, “Ow! Yes, it hurts when you do that!” After a couple of days, they scheduled a doctor's appointment.
