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14.02.2018
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The Games of My Lifetime

14.02.2018
Karolina Riemen-Żerebecka (Photo: Gosia Turczyńska)

First, she was Polish Alpine Skiing champion. Later, she was the only Polish Skicross athlete competing in the Olympics. While training for the Olympic Winter Games in Pyeongchang in South Korea she had an accident that could have put an end to her career. As it turns out, it was a new beginning.

Editor’s note: due to back injury and an imminent surgery, Karolina Riemen-Żerebecka won’t be participating in the Olympic Games in Pyeongchang

It had been a really good season. I had been training hard, competing in various tournaments, and had finally qualified for the Olympic Games. Everything was going fine. Towards the end of the winter I flew to Spain to take part in the World Championships in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. During an early morning training run on March 16th I was speeding downhill topping 60 miles per hour. When I had made it half-way down the course and reached the obstacles I lost my balance and hit a pole. I was knocked off my feet and spun around in a full circle. Falling, I hit my head on a hard-packed mound in the snow. Then there was nothing but darkness – a black hole. I do not remember anything about the accident. It was only recently that I recalled even entering the starting gate. The doctors woke me from a medically induced coma six days later. When I came to, my coach Przemysław Buczyński was standing next to the hospital bed. It was he who told me I had had an accident and was now in a hospital in Granada.

FALLING, I HIT MY HEAD ON A HARD-PACKED MOUND IN THE SNOW. THEN THERE WAS NOTHING BUT DARKNESS – A BLACK HOLE. I DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT THE ACCIDENT

When my husband Tomek Żereba, who had been at the course at the time of my accident, arrived, he told me the helicopter had taken an hour and a half to reach me and the rescuers had made the critical mistake of placing me head downwards on the toboggan. I had suffered a brainstem injury. It is possible that my cranial nerve would not have been blocked had I been given anti-edematous drugs sooner. As it is, the right side of my body was paralysed and my speech impaired. In addition, my eyeballs were dislocated (as in cases of strabismus), my eyelids drooped and one pupil was fully dilated. It has still not returned to normal. At first, I could not see anything with that eye, later everything appeared double, confusing my sense of balance. Before I regained consciousness the doctors had warned my husband that I might not be able to breathe on my own and it was unclear whether I would regain full mobility. When they woke me up from the coma and I found out exactly how severe my injuries were, I was absolutely terrified. Bear in mind that I had already miraculously escaped several dangerous ski situations. I had my first serious accident when I was 15 years old. I was in the Tatra Mountains with a freestyle team. We were building a ski jump out of snow when an avalanche came down on us. I was covered in snow and lost consciousness. Luckily, moments earlier, some of my friends had moved away from the jump and were not in the path of the avalanche. They saw my leg sticking out of the snow, and dug us out. Everyone survived, but it was a frightening experience. It was then that the mountains taught me to treat them with respect. Not for a moment though did I consider giving up skiing.

I grew up “in the snow”. I was skiing even before I learned to walk properly. We lived in Zakopane, my dad was a rescuer with the Tatra Volunteer Emergency Service (TOPR). By the time I was ten I would accompany him on helicopter test flights in preparation for the opening of the downhill courses. We would fly to Zawrat Mountain and make our way downhill up to our waists in fresh, powdery snow at a time when freeride skiing was still completely unheard of in Poland. I absolutely loved it. Even now this sense of ruggedness and freedom is very important to me. Whenever I put on my skis, I feel happy, free. I ski to feel these emotions. And to win.

Whenever I put on my skis, I feel happy, free. I ski to feel these emotions. And to win

I have always wanted to be a sportswoman and to win medals. I have been training ever since I was a child – I went to a sports school, took part in training camps and never skipped a single training session. Even if I had been partying the night before, I always showed up at the gym or on the course the next morning. And I was getting better and better. I tried Alpine skiing, freestyle and finally ski cross, a new type of competition. It was first introduced to the Olympic Games in 2010 in Vancouver. The track comprises jumps, boards and obstacles made of snow. 4 competitors race down the course at up to 75 miles per hour. Speed, adrenaline and physical exertion – that’s what I love about sport. I cannot imagine my life without continuous movement or activity.

Karolina Riemen-Żerebecka during Olympic Games (Photo: Polska Agencja Prasowa)

After the accident, when it dawned on me that my body was paralysed, that I was babbling instead of speaking and that there was a small hole in my head with a probe in it, I realized that not being able to move was even more terrifying to me than death. Being strapped to the bed, depending on others. On waking from the coma, consciousness came oozing back little by little. At first, I was drowsy and in denial, sure I’d be able to get up right away. Slowly, I realized that I was not able to eat by myself, wash myself or use the toilet. I found relief in the fact that each day I noticed a tiny bit of progress. One night I had a dream in which I was skiing with a friend. I woke up and felt my thumb twitching. I was overwhelmed with excitement. It was 5 o’clock in the morning, and I kept training my thumb for two hours, telling myself: “God, please don’t let it stop moving!” I wanted to show off my new skill to my husband when he came at 7 o’clock. That was my breakthrough. After that, it took me two and a half weeks to get up from my bed and four weeks to attempt my first shaky steps. A couple of days later I was walking without assistance. I tried to be brave.

AFTER THE ACCIDENT, WHEN IT DAWNED ON ME THAT MY BODY WAS PARALYSED, THAT I WAS BABBLING INSTEAD OF SPEAKING AND THAT THERE WAS A SMALL HOLE IN MY HEAD WITH A PROBE IN IT, I REALIZED THAT NOT BEING ABLE TO MOVE WAS EVEN MORE TERRIFYING TO ME THAN DEATH

After three weeks in hospital in Granada, I was transferred to Warsaw. It was only there that I fell into a depression. One of the doctors told me that I would probably never be able to move my right hand again and that I would not fully recover my sight. I burst into tears. I was embittered and kept asking myself: "Why did this happen to me? Will I ever be able to live a normal life?” Three days later I was transferred to a hospital in Cracow. There, I was taken care of by a wonderful doctor, who had operated on my back two years earlier. We took rehabilitation very seriously. I was used to a tough daily training routine. We would start at 8.00 a.m. with movement exercises, then work with a speech therapist or psychologist and after that I had rehabilitation exercises again. In the evenings I would slip out of the hospital with Tomek for something delicious or just to gaze at the Vistula River. I looked forward to those moments all day long. They were my reward for the hard work with the physiotherapist. So I was happy, even though though at first I was slightly gun-shy. It wasn’t until my sessions with a neuropsychologist that I started to get used to the outside world.

I also received a lot of support from my relatives and friends. My ski cross peers, with whom I had been training, flew in and visited me at the hospital: Emily Sarsfield from England and Fanny Smith from Switzerland. They took me on short strolls (only as far as I managed to go), made me laugh, consoled me and spurred me on in my fight. It was thanks to them that I started to believe I could return to the ski cross scene. All the while, my Mom, my coach and of course my husband Tomek, were right beside me. I have known Tomek almost all my life. We were in the same class at school, we trained together, but we were just friends. Yet somehow destiny seems to be our guiding light. I remember my Dad was cutting his favourite oscypek (traditional Polish smoked cheese) when he told me: Kala, just marry that Żereba, he’s a good guy! Our story is also quite extraordinary from another angle. Sometime after my father had died in 2009, my mother married Tomek’s father. Later, they invited me to a car race in which Tomek was competing. That was where I fell for him. We got married 4 years ago and now he has become my second coach and repairman. Sometimes we quarrel because I can be really outspoken and Tomek has a hot temper too. Still, one of us always reaches out to the other to make peace. He knows that I will not allow anything to be forced onto me and that I need patient convincing instead.

After the accident, my husband never left my side. Recently, my mother told me that during my coma in Granada, he kissed my legs and hands and begged me on his knees to wake up. That moved me to tears. When I was in hospital in Cracow, he stayed with a friend, so he could spend the whole day with me. He kept saying that I should never give up. I do not remember this, but they told me that after waking up, my first words to him were: “I love you.” The people closest to me were a constant source of motivation, urging me to keep training and talking about the Olympics waiting for me. The first thing I wanted to do, though, was to stand on my own feet. Later, I made the decision to regain form and to compete in the Ski Cross World Cup. I resolved to take it one goal at a time. I got better quickly. The doctors said it was a miracle, a phenomenon. They told me I was recovering like an earthworm. They released me from hospital in July, after over three months. In August, I was back on the slope. I started on a glacier, thrilled and scared at the same time. I was worried I might not be able to strap my boots to the skis. My legs were still weak. But I did it! In September, I was back in training, preparing for the Olympic Games. I skied on that glacier and trained in the gym. This turned out to be the best type of rehabilitation at that stage of my recovery.

RECENTLY, MY MOTHER TOLD ME THAT DURING MY COMA IN GRANADA, HE KISSED MY LEGS AND HANDS AND BEGGED ME ON HIS KNEES TO WAKE UP

I celebrated every obstacle passed on the course, shouting out with joy. I was struck with anxiety only once, on my way up the glacier at the Stelvio Pass in Italy. I was unable to breathe and my thoughts were in turmoil: “What if I hit my head on the ice? There is no way I could survive that again.” Going up the mountain, I was shaking all over. We took off our skis. Tomek, who has a degree in psychology, spoke to me very calmly. We practiced some visualizations, breathing. That helped me. I overcame my fear. I got on the course and ... for the first time since the accident - I tackled the ski-jump. That made me believe the Olympics were within reach. The thing I dream of now? A medal, like every athlete! If not at these Games, then the next ones. Right now, even competing is a tremendous achievement.
But once you start, you can’t stop, so I will give everything I have.

Recorded by Anna Sańczuk

Translation  Simon von Kleist/ Solid Information Solutions

Karolina Riemen-Żerebecka was born on August 19th, 1988 in Tuchów in southern Poland and is currently training with AZS AWF Katowice. She debuted at the Ski Cross World Cup in 2008 in Contamines, ranking 21st, and first stood on the World Cup podium in Åre in March 2013, coming in 3rd. In December 2016 she took 2nd place.

This year’s Olympic Games in Pyeongchang in South Korea will be the third Games she competes in. Prior to these, she participated in the Vancouver Games in 2010 (ranking 16th) and in Sochi in 2014 (ranking 15th).

Anna Sańczuk
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