Page 57 of The Hookup
Something was very wrong. I’d never felt anything like this in my life. Was it my leg? My back? I had no idea, and that was terrifying.
I was vaguely aware of the concern on my friends’ faces as they gathered around me. My mind was racing. I couldn’t form a coherent thought or answer their questions.
At some point, paramedics showed up and asked more questions. I still couldn’t answer. I was too focused on trying to breathe through the agony.
One of them gave me a shot. I remembered feeling grateful as I slipped into blackness.
Sometime later, I woke up in a hospital. Greg, Craig, and several more of my teammates were at my bedside, looking extremely worried. One of them announced, “He’s awake.”
Another said, “I’ll go get the doctor.”
I managed to mutter, “What happened?” All of them took turns answering.
“You broke your hip.”
“Your hip socket, specifically. They took x-rays. Do you remember?” I shook my head.
“The doctor says it was totally a freak thing. The chances of a break like that are incredibly slim. You must have landed exactly wrong.”
“We’re so sorry, Rock. Our defense sucked. That big behemoth from the other team never should have been able to slam you like that.”
“He also should have known better than to take you down that hard, but that whole team is so fucking green.”
My voice rose in alarm when I told them, “I can’t move my leg.”
“Don’t try to move. They’ve got you in a brace to stabilize your hip, but that’s just until they can perform surgery. The doctor is going to talk to you about that.”
“They gave you super hardcore pain meds. I bet you’re flying right now.”
I shut my eyes, and someone said, “Don’t worry, buddy, you’re going to be okay.”
“Don’t worry about your animals, either. We called Dwight, and he’s going to stay at the ranch until you get out of the hospital. He’s bringing in his cousin to help him. All of us canhelp, too. Just tell us what you need.” I was pretty sure Greg said that.
I muttered, “I have no idea what I need.” This all felt surreal, and even through the fog of pain meds, my hip was throbbing.
“No, of course. Tell us later, when you’re not so out of it.”
“We’ll keep your truck at our house, and we brought you your gym bag. Your phone is on the side table. Is there anyone you want us to call?”
I managed, “Not right now,” and made the mistake of shifting slightly. Pain shot through my body, and I drew a sharp breath.
The doctor came in just then and immediately took charge of the situation. “All of you, out,” she snapped. “Your friend needs to rest. Don’t come back until tomorrow, after his surgery. When you do, I want no more than two of you in here at a time. Is that clear?”
They filed out to a chorus of, “Yes, ma’am,” and one of them called, “Hang in there, Rock. We love you, buddy!”
Once they were gone, the doctor introduced herself and asked me, “How are you feeling?”
“Not great.”
“As expected. Let’s talk about your hip, and about what’s going to happen.” She went on to tell me far too much about hip sockets, the type of injury I’d sustained, and what they were going to do to repair it.
Then she said, “I’ve scheduled you for surgery first thing tomorrow morning. Your surgeon will meet with you this afternoon and will be able to answer any questions you have about the procedure. You’ll be in the hospital for several days. After that, you’ll be under orders to refrain from walking without crutches or putting any weight on your hip for six to ten weeks.”
I muttered, “Oh god,” but she wasn’t done with the bad news yet.
“Your recovery will obviously include physical therapy. It’s going to be a very long process, but you’re young and healthy, so there’s every reason to believe you’ll make a full recovery. Just don’t expect it to happen overnight. It’ll be four to six months before you’ll be cleared to engage in any form of strenuous physical activity, assuming there aren’t any complications.”
“Why so long?”
