Understanding is the first step to gaining an upper hand
My story & goal
My name is Ella Pollock, and I created this website as a platform to share my experiences, particularly about a personal health challenge that drastically changed my life. It is my hope that through my experience, and what I learned, I can help other athletes get through similar challenges. Following is a description of my journey. I not only hope that it can help athletes get help for their physical issues, but also understand the emotional impact that sports-related conditions and injuries can have on a young athlete.
Suffering in silence
My story begins in 2019 at the age of 13, when I started to experience persistent pain in my lower legs during training sessions with my soccer team. This was also the time I was selected to play on the top team for my soccer club. This pain and resulting functional limitations got worse as the season progressed. However, rather than telling my coach or parents, my response was to attribute this discomfort to a lack of physical conditioning. So, I dealt with it in silence. This decision reflected both my ignorance about injuries and my fear of disclosing them.
After completing a season with this team, I made the decision to join a team that was one tier lower, which would then allow me to participate in high school soccer. Unfortunately, even after a summer break, my lower leg pain persisted and then worsened to the point where it became debilitating. With every step I took on the field, I fought back tears. I went from being a very good player to someone who could barely last 15 minutes on the field without needing to be substituted. This greatly affected my mental well-being as I constantly wondered what my teammates thought of me. Since my leg condition had not been diagnosed at that time, all I could say was that it hurt, leaving me with no concrete explanation. Unlike more recognizable injuries like ACL tears or concussions, my injury was not easily identifiable. Due to these circumstances, I worried that others perceived me as someone who was merely complaining or lacking the desire to play. The entire experience was incredibly draining.
Diagnosis and first surgery for Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome
After struggling with this for almost a year, a turning point came when my coach, witnessing my struggle and understanding I was not playing like myself, urged me to consult a doctor. After a series of tests, which ruled out certain conditions like shin splints and stress fractures, I was diagnosed with chronic exertional compartment syndrome, a condition causing excessive pressure within the compartments in my lower legs that housed my muscles. When I heard the diagnosis, I felt a sense of relief that I was not just imagining things and that there would be a surgical solution. Not much more than a week after the diagnosis, I had a three-compartment bi-lateral fasciotomy.
I was discharged from the hospital on the same day and began my recovery. Initially, I was in high spirits during this phase. The prospect of running again seemed attainable within a relatively short span of 3-4 months. I dedicated those months to working closely with my physical therapist, and after a few months, I was able to resume running. As I began to ramp up my running on a treadmill, the familiar pain resurfaced. Instead of confiding in someone about it, I made the decision to push through and ignore it, thinking it might be a normal part of the recovery process.
Disappointment and second surgery for Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome
Despite the signs, I was hopeful as the new club season began, but during my first game back it became apparent that it didn't deliver the expected results and relief. Rather, the familiar pain returned as bad as ever. In the days leading up to my next doctor's appointment, I struggled to prevent myself from breaking down and succumbing to self-pity. Instead, I made a conscious decision to persevere without reaching out to anyone, suppressing the fears that I may never recover fully. During the subsequent appointment, I consulted a different doctor who determined that the initial surgery had not been comprehensive enough, a common issue with fasciotomies. It was also determined that a fourth compartment required release. Upon hearing this news from the surgeon, a wave of relief washed over me, and I felt a renewed sense of readiness to find joy in playing soccer.
After going through another long round of physical therapy, I thought I’d be ready for the upcoming season. However, my hope of an issue-free season came to a quick end. The pain and functional limitations persisted, and I muscled through it as best I could until I could not take the pain any longer.
Where before I suffered in silence, this time, as soon as I experienced the pain, I promptly informed my parents and my doctor. Inside, I felt had wasted a year and a half on surgeries, missing out on a full club season and a full high school season. Determined to persevere, I decided to play through the pain during the upcoming high school season. With chronic exertional compartment syndrome, I was told that I could continue running despite the pain, with no risk of permanent damage. But because I was limited, I remained concerned about how others perceived me. While I knew they were aware that something was wrong with me, and that I had undergone surgeries, I feared they were judging me based on my inability to run for more than 10 minutes without a severe drop-off in my play.
A solution for physical symptoms - fPAES release surgery
Throughout that high school season, I was going from one appointment to another. I underwent an MRI to assess whether my nerves were trapped and received steroid treatments in hopes of jumpstarting my leg's recovery. Despite these efforts, I had nothing to show for it. After ruling other things out, my doctor referred me to a vascular specialist to determine if I had popliteal artery entrapment syndrome (PAES). I had read about this condition online, and it seemed the symptoms described matched exactly what I was experiencing.
At the doctor's office, I was instructed to run on a treadmill for as long as I possibly could, intentionally trying to exacerbate the pain to test if blood flow was impeded during exercise. The doctor recorded my blood pressure measurements and took the results to the surgeon. We anxiously waited in a room, and I vividly recall the doctor examining the paper with my results and then giving me the option of quitting soccer to relieve the pain. Tears welled up in my eyes, and a lump formed in my throat. I remember seeing my dad looking a mix of concerned and annoyed. He passionately expressed that he cared more about seeing me pain-free than whether I could continue playing soccer. The doctor acknowledged his perspective and scheduled an angiogram, an operation to definitively test for popliteal artery entrapment syndrome. During the procedure, I remained awake as they injected dye into the arteries feeding my legs to observe the blood flow, while adjusting my legs into different positions. Finally, they found the right position and discovered that my blood flow was completely blocked when my calf was flexed.
Several weeks later, we returned to the hospital’s vascular department to receive my formal results and discuss the next steps. Throughout this time, I concealed my emotional breakdowns from others, except perhaps my parents. Even then, I often chose to cry alone, despising the feeling of self-pity and suppressing my emotions. Prior to the appointment, my dad researched surgeons in our area specializing in this condition. He had compiled a shortlist and obtained different referrals for each of them. Fortunately, one of the top surgeons renowned for treating PAES happened to be in the proximity of where we live, so we were referred to their care. By the end of the high school season, not only was I physically drained, but mentally as well, and I found myself in a dark place. However, upon finally receiving a diagnosis, I felt a glimmer of hope that this time I would finally find a path to recovery.
Recovering from the popliteal surgeries was not as arduous as anticipated. Each leg was handled individually with the procedure on my left leg coinciding with the end of my high school season. However, a minor snag occurred when my initial surgeon encountered health problems, necessitating a search for a replacement for the operation to my right leg. Luckily, I already had a referral for a surgeon in another state. Upon completion of the second surgery, I returned home and underwent a complete recovery. This marked the end of my surgical journey – a full two years after the first procedure. Following extensive physical therapy and rehab, I began to think that my path would become smoother from this point on.
Mental health: regaining confidence and love for the game
While the physical recovery from my last surgeries was smooth, the toll that four surgeries had taken on my mental well-being was deep. When I eventually returned to club season play, my previous team had let me go—understandably, the coaches were uncertain of my recovery. I found myself amidst a new team, with teammates unaware of my journey. Attempting to play again, I was overwhelmed by self-doubt, tears threatening to spill with every kick of the ball. I had lost my confidence, having forfeited over two years of my growth as a player, and felt a gnawing isolation, as if no one could comprehend my struggle.
Reconditioning and getting playing time was a challenge due to the league's substitution rules and the additional academic demands of my junior year. By the conclusion of my club season in the Fall, I was in a worse mental state than before it commenced. It was clear that to rediscover my love for soccer, I needed substantial help.
Just before the high school season, after a consult with my old coach, my parents arranged for me to meet with a psychologist who works with young athletes. Having started this journey, I was very excited for the season to start. I felt I would play an important role on the team, and I loved my teammates like they were my family. High school soccer became a much-needed safety net. My teammates assisted in restoring my self-assuredness and passion for the sport. It dawned on me that this camaraderie was at the top of the list of why I truly enjoyed playing soccer.
After the high school season, the club postseason began. Nerves fluttered, but the groundwork laid with my psychologist and the confidence I'd fostered prepared me for success. At the same time, I was endeavoring to secure a college commitment. I attended ID camps and met with coaches. During this time, I realized my commitment was not only driven by my dreams, but also a need to demonstrate my resilience.
As a younger player, I was tireless in my pursuit of improvement, attending two practices a day: my own and my older sister's. I never missed a practice and often worked on my game alone in my back yard. I worked hard to be the best payer I could be and I felt poised to commit to a college. Amid my struggles, one of the toughest aspects was witnessing my former teammates committing to successful college programs and flourishing. It was a painful reminder of the over two years of development I'd lost and the physical ordeal my legs had endured.
To be honest, I hate the saying, “everything happens for a reason”. I feel like too many things happen to good people for that to be true, however I feel that this saying fits my journey well. I gained invaluable life lessons. Instead of focusing on what I could have achieved, I have learned that I should try to live in the present and goals are made to be reset. I am so grateful for the people in my life that have helped me through my journey. My friends, teammates and my family have stood by me and supported me when I needed them. I want to live in the moment and do my best to repay the people that were here for me and help others that may be going through struggles. I am so grateful that I can run pain-free, and I cannot help but feel emotional every time I think about the things I have been through, how I have finally found happiness again and am enjoying a renewed joy in playing soccer.