Page 87 of Staying Selfless

I’m sitting up on the hospital bed with my leg propped on a pillow as my dad takes the empty seat next to me.

“No, I don’t,” he confidently states. “Even if it’s as bad as last time, you’re a fighter. If you want to get better, you will.”

“Dad, I have no time left to heal. It’s now or never. What if scouts hear about this? No one is going to sign a guy with a recurring injury.”

“EJ, do you want it to be over?” he asks with sincerity.

“What?”

“Do you want to keep playing, or do you want this to be the end?”

I take a moment to truly understand his question. The thought has crossed my mind over the last hour. That this fresh injury could end all the panic and pain I’ve endured over the years. All the grueling hours spent training, studying my opponents, rehabbing, it could all be over today if I wanted it to be. And I’d be lying if I said that thought hadn’t brought a moment or two of reprieve.

But the truth is, I don’t want it to be over. I love this game. I love the feeling of the ice under my blades, the moment the horn sounds when the puck hits the back of the net, the self-satisfaction when I leave the ice, knowing I was the best one on it. I don’t want it to be over, and the fear of having my hopes and dreams demolished today is scarier than I’d like to admit.

“No, I don’t want it to be over,” I confidently tell my dad.

“Then don’t let it be. Whatever the doctor says, you need to go in with the mindset that you’ll be back.”

I drop my head onto the pillow behind me. The fear is beginning to set in, knowing my results are coming soon.

“EJ,” my dad says, causing me to look in his direction. “The thing that’s different this time is that you recognize there’s more to your life than hockey now. If you need to rehab again, you can go into it with a clearer mind and not let the pressures control you the way they did before. Last time, hockey was your only focus, but now your life has balance. There are other important things, maybe more important things in your life, than hockey. This game doesn’t define you; it’s simply a part of what makes you who you are.”

He’s right. Three years ago, when I rehabbed the first time, hockey was all I had. I was Eli Maddison, the injured NHL prospect, and that was it. Or at least that’s how I viewed myself. But now, I define myself by a whole lot more. Friend, partner, son—just to name a few.

“Is Logan okay? I hope that hit didn’t scare her.”

My dad leans back in his chair, casually crossing one ankle over the other. “That girl is solid, man. She’s calmer than anyone else out there, or at least doing a great job pretending to be.”

Knowing her, it’s a mixture of both.

“Who else is out there?” I ask with confusion.

“Marc and Mary, obviously. Logan, Ali, Cam, Goody, Benny...” he pauses. “And Zanders.”

“Zanders is here?” I ask in disbelief.

My dad nods his head, laughing. “What’s that all about?”

“I don’t know,” I chuckle. “Maybe I don’t hate Zanders as much as I once thought I did. We have a lot more in common than I assumed, and he’s really not a bad guy. We’re kind of friends, I guess. He’s actually the one who referred me to the therapist I’ve been talking to.”

My dad’s brows shoot up, impressed. “That’s awesome, EJ. It says a lot about both of you that you could put aside your previous differences and find some common ground.”

“You must be Eli.” A man in a white coat comes into the room with a clipboard in hand. “I’m Doctor Phillips.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.

I put my hand in his but stay silent. I’d like to skip all the social pleasantries and just get my fucking results, thank you very much.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” he says.

Fuck.

“Good news is that nothing is broken, and nothing is torn.”

I take a deep breath and drop my head back in relief. Now that the words are out of his mouth, I can admit that I was really fucking scared.

“The bad news is that you have a fairly severe sprain. I was looking at your previous records, and I know you’re no stranger to this. The area is much more vulnerable due to your previous injury, which is why you’re in as much pain as you are. You also have a minor concussion.”

“How long am I out for?”

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