Finally Home

96. Samantha

It's tough having to ask for help with simple things like brushing my teeth. But I learned to. Mom and Dad, man, they're something. Ready to drop what they're doing if I need them.

Rosie has been hilarious. She tries to anticipate my needs and sometimes comes running over with a juice box or a book because she thinks I'm bored.

I've gotten used to the wheelchair. Rosie likes it when I put her in my lap and zip around the house or the deck out back. Or I spin her. I always make sure she's holding me tightly before I spin or go too fast.

I do the same with Junie but much slower. She loves it, too. Usually, when I have Junie in my chair, Mom ties her to me in this cool carrier thing she has.

So, why am I getting used to the chair? Even though I don't really want it? I'm going to play basketball again!

Dad asked me to trust him about opportunities even though I lost my leg. And the Saturday I was home, he introduced me to Kaitlyn Eaton, a member of the women's wheelchair basketball Olympic team! She was born with a rare defect where her lower spine didn't form properly, so she uses a wheelchair. And she started playing wheelchair basketball when she was 16. 

She came over to our house and I had been out back with Rosie. I heard Dad bouncing a basketball and was going to go into the house. But then Dad came out the back door, grabbed the handles at the back of my chair and turned me around.

"What are you doing?! How are you here and on the court?" I asked.

"I'm not on the court, obviously," he said. And pushed me down the ramp he'd had installed coming off the patio. He wanted me to be able to use the patio easily, too.

He pushed me over to our basketball court and there was a girl in a wheelchair, bouncing the basketball. I stared.

"Hi!" She said brightly, coming over to us. "I'm Kaitlyn."

I just stared at her.

"This is Samantha," Dad said. "Who is usually less rude about introducing herself."

"What? Sorry. I'm Samantha," I said.

"Yeah. Your dad said as much," Kaitlyn smiled. "So, want to shoot some hoops?"

I looked at Kaitlyn.

"I can't," I said.

"Why not?" Kaitlyn asked, furrowing her brow.

"Because I only have one leg. I can't balance properly."

"Pfft," Kaitlyn said. "I have two legs but I can't balance either. And yet, I can still play basketball. You'll never do anything if you insist you can't. You can. And even if it doesn't work the first time, that doesn't mean you can't. It just means you have to try again."

"I don't know how to play basketball in a wheelchair," I said.

"Do you know how to play basketball at all?" Kaitlyn smiled. I nodded.

"Same rules. Slightly different equipment," she laughed.

"But I don't know how to physically play," I said.

"Good thing I do. I'll show you some tips and tricks. Your dad says you're a good player."

"I was," I said.

"What's changed?" Kaitlyn asked.

"I lost my leg," I said. Was this girl that dumb?

"So? The game of basketball didn't change. You just have to adapt your body to the sport."