Summer Craziness
Wow! I feel like I blinked and the first part of summer is over. Let me assure you that the second part of summer will probably drag on for an eternity. Why such the pessimistic outlook, you ask? Where should I begin?
My husband(who I will be referring to as simply A) plays deck hockey at a local sports complex. Once a week, he meets his friends for their scheduled games and once a week I watch him crawl in the door after his games. He is always coming home bruised and battered. I thought he learned his lesson a few months back when he took a hockey ball to the eye, but I was just being silly I guess. Last week I watched as he limped on in the house while his friend carried his equipment.
“I blew out my knee,” A says.
“And it begins,” I thought to myself.
After a painful night’s sleep, we got him into our doctor’s the next morning. She recommended an MRI. That was quickly scheduled for later that day. As we waited at the pharmacy for his crutches, it became clear to me that I was going to have to call out of work to get him to his MRI. I really dislike calling out. I become overwhelmed with guilt. So as we were driving home from the pharmacy, I asked him if he could just drive himself to the MRI. The poor guy tried from the passenger seat to mimic the motions of driving and exclaimed, “It really hurts!”
WHAT!? I never said I was going for wife of the year! Needless to say, I did not go to work that evening!
The next day, we got the results of his MRI. It rambled on about sprained ligaments, bone bruising, torn meniscus, and torn ligaments. A same day appointment with an orthopedic was made. He moved A’s leg around all over the place while saying, “Does this hurt? Does this hurt?” I think it was pretty clear from the facial expressions that it hurt…PLENTY! The doctor then proceeds to take fluid out of his knee. Then says, “We need to go in there and fix your knee surgically.”
Through this whole ordeal, I thought A was going to pass out numerous times. But we’re not even done yet. ‘Cause now we gotta talk about the surgery. My sweet husband does not do well with this kind of talk. There are 2 ways to fix a torn ligament. They can use his own hamstrings which is a more painful and longer recovery, or they can use one from a cadaver. A’s hand was over his face as he laid there on the table.
“You don’t have to tell me today. But let me know soon because if you want the cadaver part I’ll have to order it,” says the doc ever-so-nonchalantly. Meanwhile, I’m looking around for the smelling salts because I thought this would surely send A over the edge. But somehow, he managed to stay conscious.
Surgery is scheduled for the end of August. Followed by at least 2 weeks of recovery and then physical therapy. It is going to be a LONG 2+ months.
AND if you ask A if he is done playing deck hockey, his answer is: “No.” See, there I was being silly again thinking he would now realize that his hockey days are over! He really knows how to take one for the team, doesn’t he?
