By Andrew Heining, published on Spirituality.com

…We were having a blast, venturing onto increasingly difficult terrain. On about the fourth run of the day there were six of us skiing in single file down a shadowy, mogul-covered chute. When I glanced over my shoulder to see how my friend was doing, I turned back around just in time to almost crash into the person in front of me, who had stopped because the trail had turned to ice. I missed hitting him, but the quick adjustment I had to make sent me careening—at high speed—right into an icy mogul.

My boots released from their bindings as the tips of my skis dug into the hard snow, and I was thrown to the icy slope, landing hard on the back of my head and shoulder.

My friends were beside me very quickly, telling me not to move. I felt able to get up and continue skiing, though, so we continued, more slowly, down the mountain. My helmet had absorbed most of the impact, but I knew right away that something wasn’t quite right with my shoulder. It felt out of place, and each time I hit a bump I felt pain. I wish I could say I handled the suggestion of an injured shoulder right there on the slope, but my thought was full of fear: Was it dislocated or separated? Would I need surgery?

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