Ours Forever....

Thought #12
Sid,
I hurt. That’s all there is to it. My muscles are aching and my hip is throbbing. I pulled something in my race today which makes me even more nervous when it comes to qualifying. You’ve taken Pat out for ice cream with the promise of bringing some back for me. I’m sprawled out on our bed as I write this with my body covered in ice packs and hot patches. I’m not comfortable.

But in our relationship, we’ve never been strangers to pain and injury. There was all the times at Shattuck’s when we’d come back from practices just wanting to collapse in pain. Of course, there was the car crash after Beijing. And the C-word.

Your concussion is not something we look back on fondly. Then again, who was? Other than, of course, the Flyers and the rest of hockey nation outside of Pittsburgh.

Sadly, I remember the Winter Classic all too well.

Pat was at home with my mom and I was at the game with Vero, Heather, your parents, your sister Taylor, my brother Alex, and my dad. We were able to watch the game from the tunnels with Janine. I’m so thankful that we were.

At first when I saw the hit on the ice, I didn’t think the hit had been so bad. The angle I was at made it difficult to see. But soon enough, I realized just how wrong I was.

Sitting in the doctor’s room with you made all the more real. You were laying back on the examination tables they had and I sat in a chair next to you, grasping your hand. Your eyes were shut and we sat in silence for a while in the empty room while the doctor looked over x-rays down the hall.

“How bad do you think it is?” you spoke up quietly.

I looked at your face. It was scrunched up in pain. It was obviously bad. But I wouldn’t tell you that.

“I… I don’t know,” I fibbed.

You tried to smirk, but it faded to a grimace. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Better than you,” I countered.

“Touché,” you sighed.

The doctor came in then. “Can I speak with you, Rory?” I knew the staff so well, formal titles were never used.

“Of course,” I said rising from my seat. “I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t nod your head so you went for a simple raised hand.

Walking into the hallway, I was greeted by the entire team, our family, and the majority of the staff. The game was over. We had lost.

“Talk to me,” I insisted.

“It’s bad,” Dr. Drake said. “He needs to see specialists at UPMC.”

“Then what are they still doing here?” Janine asked taking my hand.

“We needed to do some preliminary testing,” he explained.

“Then get him the hell outta here!” Taylor exclaimed. Your parents shushed her. They were too worried to speak.

“We’re doing our best, but with the traffic because of the game, it’s difficult,” Dr. Drake said. “We’ll have to keep him here until the traffic clears out. Alright?” It shouldn’t have been a question.

I looked around at your team. Jordan had only just made his debut back, poor guy. Every pair of eyes was trained on me and I suddenly felt light headed. Usually, when so many people watch me intently, I’m in the water, swimming as fast as I can. I didn’t like this feeling.

I turned and looked the doctor right in the eye. “You do whatever needs to be done. Just make sure he gets better.”

And with that, I opened the door to the doctor’s room. Walking in, I closed the door soundly behind me.

You were asleep, so I collapsed down into a chair. Putting my hand on my arms and letting them rest on the edge of your examination table, I cried. This shouldn’t be happening to you. It just shouldn’t be.

Love You Always,
Rory