Alex Boehme's long journey to physical and mental recovery

Alex Boehme stood on the Forest Park soccer field under the lights awaiting the start of the Bruins' first game of the year.

It was a moment he'd been anticipating for more than two years. He played the scenario in his head for months, wondering what his reaction would be -- whether he'd cry or smile, or whether it would register that it was actually happening.

Boehme's presence on the pitch was nothing short of a medical miracle and a testament to both biolomechanical repair and personal perseverance. Just 28 months and 21 surgeries ago, Boehme lay in a Maryland hospital, his right leg as shattered as his soccer career appeared.

That November, Boehme was playing in a college showcase at the Maryland SoccerPlex for Team America Premier as a sophomore. The tournament had nearly been called for rain and poor field conditions, but officials decided instead to play 30-minute games rather than the typical 80-minute contests.

In the semifinals against a team from Philadelphia, Boehme (pronounced Baim) scored once and within minutes was threatening to do so again. With the combination of playing conditions, shortened games and possibly being down two goals, the Philadelphia squad knew it was likely they would be heading home earlier than they wanted.

Boehme streaked up the left side with the ball -- the same side he scored from earlier -- when he worked around a defender and was in line for a second goal.

"I was paying attention to one kid," Boehme recently recalled, "and at the last minute another kid came out of nowhere."

Ken Boehme, Alex's father, watched as the opposing player sprinted from midfield and locked on his son like a heat-seeking missile. The player went into a slide tackle from the right side -- only the move was executed late. Instead of sliding in front of Boehme, deftly knocking the ball away, Ken said the defender ended up crashing into the middle of his son's right fibula, the lower half of the leg.

"When he went into the slide tackle," Ken said, "he was in the air and as he came through, he karate kicked Alex in the back of the calf, which broke his leg."

"[He] slammed right into my leg. It flipped me and I landed on the ground and my leg was in a V-shape," Boehme said. "I just remember holding my leg, screaming in pain. I felt like if I let go of my leg, it would have fallen apart. The X-rays showed that it probably would have. The only thing keeping it together was my muscles."

The sound of Boehme's leg cracking on impact could be heard throughout the complex. Ken said fans on the lower field even made their way up to see what happened.

While Boehme writhed in pain and started to go into shock, it took nearly 30 minutes for an ambulance to arrive on the scene. There were medical personnel on hand, but they were not equipped to handle an injury of that severity.

"Stuff like that happens [in soccer] so I didn't think anything of it," Boehme said. "I figured they'd do surgery, put a rod in my leg or whatever and I'd be playing in a couple months."

The long, blurry road back

Boehme spent a month in the hospital, a month of floating between barely coherent to barely conscious.

The painkillers were as constant as the pain in his leg, keeping him in an unfamiliar world while doctors and nurses flowed into his room to check his progress and confer with his parents.

The break was so severe that the radiologist asked Ken Boehme whether his son was in a traffic collision.

"When I told them it was a soccer injury, they said it clearly was premeditated," Ken said. "The doctor said the extent of the trauma was such that it looked like it was from a car accident -- they see a lot of these [injuries] from accidents on I-270."

It was a day and a half before Boehme had surgery to set the bone. Doctors inserted a titanium rod into the leg, as he expected, and it was time to rehab and wait.

Only things didn't go as planned.

With Thanksgiving just two days away, the hospital staff was working to get Boehme ready to be discharged so the family could celebrate at their Montclair home rather than the medical facilities.

But Boehme was still in constant pain while trying to move during his rehab, and soon the family would find out why.

The doctors informed Ken and Cathy, Boehme's mother, that a condition known as compartment syndrome had set in, threatening to kill the muscles in his leg.

The condition occurs typically in high-trauma events such as car accidents or a blockage of blood circulation. Another trigger can be the fracture of one of the body's long bones.

NFL defensive end Jason Taylor suffered that same injury during his one-year stint with the Washington Redskins in 2008. The calf is separated into compartments by thick tissue called fascia; bleeding or swelling can lead to one compartment having a higher blood pressure than the rest of the body. Blood would be unable to reach the affected muscle and lead to its death.

"You have about six to eight hours after the onset of compartment syndrome to save the muscle," Ken said. "We later found out that the doctors knew it was a possibility, but they never informed us of it."

An accident on I-270 the same night as Boehme's injury required the doctor to be pulled from Boehme's case, leaving the condition unmonitored for a time.

Once compartment syndrome was diagnosed, Boehme had five to 10 percent of the afflicted muscle removed, but that proved to be too conservative. After a second and third surgery to combat the condition, Boehme was left with just 40 to 50 percent of the muscle in the fourth compartment of the upper calf, just below the knee.

"From there, everything is really blurry," Boehme said. "I just remember one point, two weeks into being in the hospital, waking up -- feeling like I was waking up -- wondering what happened to my leg. I didn't remember any of it."

By the time he was fully recovered, Boehme had had enough of being numb. When he had to have a dental procedure, he refused anything beyond local anesthesia, saying he could handle any pain from the procedure just fine.

Finding inspiration

Boehme desperately missed soccer, the sport he thoroughly loved.

Standing in his way were more setbacks, though. He needed the assistance of a wound vacuum-assisted closure (VAC) device and then had to have a condition called dropped foot corrected.

He spent five months out of school while the wound VAC did its job. Ken Boehme said wound VACs are used for soldiers with deep shrapnel wounds as well.

After the wound VAC therapy was over, Alex Boehme decided to see how far he was from being able to play again.

"I started to try to play a little, taking it real easy, kicking the ball around with my brothers," Boehme said of his siblings, 16-year old Paul and 13-year old Greg. "But I still couldn't run right because my foot wasn't right. It was hanging there. I couldn't lift it up."

Because of the compartment syndrome surgery, Boehme was no longer able to move his foot upwards, making it difficult to walk, let alone run.

Before he could even begin to think about returning to the field, though, another issue arose: The wound was not healing properly.

For his 21st and final surgery over 13 months, Boehme had a tendon from his ankle stretched in such a way that, when he engages muscles to turn his foot inward, it actually raises.

Boehme recovered and "had to totally re-learn how to walk again," he said.

Throughout the entire recovery process, Boehme drew inspiration from numerous places, but particularly from two books: "Miracle in the Andes" by Nando Parrado and Kyle Maynard's "No Excuses."

Maynard was a successful high school and college wrestler despite being born with congenital amputation of his arms and lower legs.

Parrado's book detailed his two-month survival, along with 15 others, in the Andes mountains after a plane crash in 1972.

"When a woman told him how inspirational his book was," Boehme said, "he realized everyone has their own Andes to conquer. My Andes, I felt, was getting over this injury to get to play soccer again.

"We're Catholic and I was questioning a lot at that time," he added. "I felt deep inside God wouldn't truly take my passion away from me. I needed to give it my best shot. I couldn't say it was taken from me if I didn't."

Life outside of soccer

During recovery, Boehme discovered he was more than just a soccer player. He found a love of music and perhaps a future career.

Pro soccer seemed to be out of reach after the injury, so Boehme started exploring other options.

Always a strong student -- he earned straight A's his freshman year -- Boehme never let his injury get in the way of his studies, carrying a 3.95 cumulative GPA and is 26th in a class of 584.

Boehme has also already been accepted to the University of California, Berkeley. After meeting numerous military veterans at Walter Reed Army Medical Center during rehab -- Ken is an Army colonel -- Boehme found an interest in helping those missing limbs and recovering from severe trauma. While at Cal he plans to study engineering -- specifically biomedical -- intending to work with prosthetics.

"I thought I could help people like this," he said of the injured vets.

"It's allowed him to become a more balanced person," Ken said. "It's been tough, but enlightening as a person, from art, to volunteering."

Never giving up on his first love, he'd also like to try to walk-on with the Golden Bears. But he'd be happy with playing club soccer there, as well.

Returning to the pitch

In mid-January of this year, doctors finally cleared him to return to the field. Now he only had to make the Bruins' soccer team and tryouts began the third week of February.

Paul was already a member, playing his sophomore year under Ken Krieger.

Justin Joswick took over after Krieger retired last spring, and Boehme had to prove that he was just as good on one leg as the rest were on two.

"In mid-February the high school team was playing indoor," Ken said. "He was going out there for the first time and he looked out of place."

The rest of the team had practice jerseys from previous years, whereas Alex did not.

"He was stretching and he just looked over at me and he smiled," Ken said. "That was what it was all about."

Once he earned a spot, Alex Palermo-Re made a gesture on behalf of the team to demonstrate that they knew how much Boehme had overcome.

Palermo-Re gave up his No. 21 jersey for Boehme to wear this year, a number that was special to Boehme before and especially after his injury. His final surgery even took place on Dec. 21, 2007.

Not only did Boehme make the team, but he was named a starter. His return to soccer was completed when he scored twice against Hylton in a 3-0 win and netted the game-winner against Freedom the following game.

"There have been times where I wouldn't have known that he was hurt, the way he was moving and spinning," Ken said.

It was that first night at Forest Park that was most significant, though, a game in which he missed just 10 of the 90 minutes played against Massaponax.

"All the way up to the game I couldn't believe I was going to be playing," Boehme said. "The moment I got on the field, it was just game time. I just wanted to play."

With his return, he inspired the rest of his family along the way.

"He's truly remarkable," his brother, Greg, said. "To say that my brother is like that, it's changed my life forever."

"Him being out there makes me want to be a better player," Paul added. "And not just a better player, but a better person."

Paul and Greg also admit that they've taken their brother's experience of losing soccer for a period to realize what other interests they have outside of the game.

"It's not only brought us closer as a family," Ken said, "but I think everyone has learned that you can't give up."