Page 4 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“Ifyouseehere,Mr.Roy, your L3 and L4 were quite badly crushed.And while you are still able to walk and move, you’re going to need to rest for them to heal properly,” Dr.Avery said, bringing up my x-rays, as well as a diagram of the human vertebral column.
Luckily, it was just me in the hospital room with him.So we could be a bit more candid with each other than if my agent, coach, or team rep were there.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, these two spinal segments are suffering from disc degeneration and early signs of osteoarthritis.L3 and L4 are prone to rotational strain, and given your line of work …” He exhaled loudly through his nose.“We found Naproxen in your system when we did a blood test.Have you been experiencing prolonged back pain?”
I leveled my gaze at him as I lay there in the bed.“What do you think, doc?”
He pursed his lips together and nodded.“Your nerves are being compressed, which is contributing to the pain.Have you been experiencing any numbness or weakness?”
“If I said no, would you believe me?”
Resting a hand on my shoulder, Dr.Avery’s blue gaze turned serious.“Maverick, you were lucky this time.We were able to perform a kyphoplasty, which is fairly non-invasive, all things considered.We inserted a balloon into the fractured vertebra to restore its height and shape, then injected bone cement.It should reduce your pain and improve your mobility.But honestly, I think you need to take a long, hard look at what kind of quality of life you wantafteryour hockey career.Because if you keep going the way you are, that career is going to end sooner than you think.And you could wind up in a wheelchair.”
“How soon until I can play again?”I asked.
He kept his disapproval to a nostril flare and nothing more.“You’d be wise to sit out the rest of the season and aim for a return in the fall.”
“It’s early February!”I exclaimed.“We still have five months left of the season.Can’t I just keep taking an Aleve before the game, then sit in the ice bath after?That’s what I’ve been doing since the start of the season, and it’s been working out just fine.”
The doctor didn’t look impressed at all.“In addition to your spinal fractures, you also have a concussion.And not your first this season.It is my professional opinion that you sit out for the remainder of the season and rest.Physiotherapy and rehab are going to be important.There’s no nerve damage—this time.But at the rate your discs are degenerating, and osteoarthritis at your young age … Maverick, you need to take this seriously.”
“Noted,” I said stiffly.
“I’d like to keep you one more night for observation, then we can discharge you.I’ll send in a physio consult—”
“We have a team physiotherapist.”
“Who has to report everything to the coach and team reps.”
“So?”
“So, maybe you’d like to keep the true nature of your health private until you’re ready?”
I rolled my eyes.“Send them in.”
Dr.Avery nodded, his expression grim.“I recommend you go see Rolph Mazurenko.He’s out of Los Angeles, but he’s the best.Worked with the Ukrainian Olympic team, then the US Olympic team.If you can get in to see him, that’s your PT god.”
“Rolph Mazurenko,” I murmured, not liking the idea of having to find a temporary apartment in LA.“All right then.”
The doctor gave me another one of his closed-mouth smiles, then took his leave.
I glanced out the window at the drizzly February day in downtown Seattle.I’d been in the hospital for three days now.Of course, Coach Nilsson came to check on me, along with Woodman, and even Hoff.But the team was already in Calgary to play the Cougars tonight.
“There he is,” came the irritating sound of my pompous-ass agent, Vance Pye.Vance turned the corner, entering my room, all smarmy smiles and buffed Oxfords.“So, what’s the diagnosis?Is it chlamydia?”He snickered at his own joke, but I didn’t find it funny.“How soon can we get my best player back on the ice?”
I met his brown eyes.“Not sure.”
“You’re not sure, or the doctor’s not sure?”
“We’renot sure,” I replied.“All depends how the healing goes.How the rehab goes.”
“This could affect you signing this year, man.We need to get you back on the ice.”He sat down on the edge of my bed near my hand, the outline of a vape pen in the front of his pants pocket.He loved root beer flavored vape juice, and it was disgusting to smell.He glanced at the open hospital door, then back to me, leaning in a little and bringing his voice down.“I know a few players—hockey, soccer, football—who just take cortisone shots.It reduces pain and inflammation so you can play.”
I glared at him.“Cortisone doesn’t cure the problem.It just alleviates the symptoms.All those players are just making things worse by playing on injuries and numbing the pain.”
Vance didn’t seem convinced and merely scoffed.“Well, we need to get you into the best rehab money can buy.Daily sports massages, maybe with a hot Swedish chick?”He bobbed his brows up and down.“Acupuncture, IMS, PT, infrared therapy, hypnotherapy.Whatever it takes.”He brought out his phone.“I’ll make some calls.”
“Actually, I think the doctor has recommended a physiotherapist I’m going to try.”
