Respect Thy Elders
As I skated up the ice, as fast as the “Human Cannonball” at the circus, the puck slammed into the boards and rimmed around to the other side. I was being chased; I could feel the sweat droplets plummeting from his face and his breath down my neck. It was an odd feeling, but I didn’t know what I was in for. I curved around the net, picking up the frozen black disk and skating up to the point of the blue line. My head drooped over like a camel due to the long shift I had taken. I knew my coach would be mad when I got on the bench again. So suddenly and yet so slowly at the same time, still with my head gasping for air, I saw a sheet of white as a huge animal, as it seemed at the time, was charging at me without a molecule of regret in its body. Then, I felt its force hurl me across the ice, and I felt like I was a duck, plummeting from the sky after being shot during hunting season, and I slammed into the frozen pond with a loud smack of the plastic of my helmet. My head was spinning for what seemed to be an eternity but, in reality, was only about fifteen seconds. I tried to get up and get off the ice. I knew something was wrong. As a whistle blew out, I got up like a snail and skated dazedly off to the bench. I “plumped my rump”, as my grandmother would say, on the bench and ripped my helmet off. My world was twirling like a graceful ballerina, but then, I felt a tidal wave of awakening fall on my face as my teammate spewed water as cold as the hard playing surface in front of us onto my head. It felt good for a milli-second but then stung my eyes and I felt like my heart was being ripped out, artery by artery. It was excruciating, but I was surprised I didn’t pass out yet. I felt some sense of accomplishment out of this “accident”.
I then took it back as I leaned forward between my knees as my steak and potato dinner was then a new addition to the bench. It felt terrible coming up, and I could barely see or breath for some time.
“Hey, Brady! Wake up! Are you OK?!? Do you need to come off?” My team was concentrating more on me rather than on the game. I just nodded, and returned to my position between my knees. They knew something was wrong, and so did I.
In most situations, the proverb, “Respect thy elders” is followed and used. But, in my situation on that Saturday evening at the cold hockey arena, my instincts told me to just throw that baloney out the window. My dad was coaching because it was an off-season, and as I came off, hurling down the front of my navy blue jersey with the orange Trojan head on it, he spewed, “Brady, get your gear on. You’re going back out there!” I knew this was a sticky situation, but I knew I couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t go out for another shift. I shook my head no, but he kept badgering me for the remaining ten minutes of the second period. I motioned for him to come over to me, and he walked slower than I’ve ever seen him before. It was almost like I was an alien with three eyes and a bad case of chicken pox, he almost seemed afraid of me. But, as he came over, I motioned to go off the ice.
“Next stoppage of play, you and two guys will go off. All right?”
I nodded my head in agreement as I woozily grabbed all my gear and waited for a cease in the action. I knew this wasn’t good. I just couldn’t believe it was happening to me.
As I skated across the frozen tundra, I could hear the loud gasp emitted from our crowd. None of them had seen the hit and thought I was bluffing. Boy, were they in for it. I was helped onto the padded steps of the bleachers and sat down, prying like a cat at my elbow pads. They were so uncomfortable, especially in my condition late that night.
Luckily for me, one of my teammate’s mom was a nurse at the local hospital and came down to “help out the cause”. She took a look at my symptoms and mumbled to herself, “Nausea, blurred vision, dizziness, swerving head, headache… uh, yep. I think he has a…a concussion.”
“A CONCUSSION??!?!” my mom cried.
Suddenly the rink got really quiet and I think the animal that hit me heard the distressed woman and cried out, “Sorry!” I didn’t believe him. I knew he didn’t mean it.
The mom gathered up some other parents and started muttering to each other what should be the next move. Someone said something, pulled out their cell phone, and the nurse came over and said, “Brady, can you hear me? You probably just have a concussion. We’re gonna call the ambulance, and you’re gonna be JUST fine!”
A reassuring thought, but I couldn’t bear to think of the possible consequences of an injury like that. I really couldn’t think. It was like I was in my own little world, inside my jostled cranium up there.
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Next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance, sirens blaring, flying down the highway, all for me. I couldn’t believe it. I came to it after I felt like a hornet’s nest had fell on my left arm and, I’ll tell you, it hurt. I tried to shake my head, but I then realized they had me on an uncomfortable board, like a surfboard I think, with a neck brace on and straps around my chest and legs. I still had my sweaty pads on my legs, but my skates had been taken off. I hoped they hadn’t cut them loose. They were too expensive to be ruined like that. My mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it so hard, I winced. She just smiled, and I had to force one as well. It hurt. Just plain and simple hurt. Then, a paramedic, probably like 19 or 20, leaned forward and tried to say over the roaring engine of the ambulance, “Hey, kid. You’re going to be fine. We just need to get you some attention. So, what happened to you?” He seemed naturally concerned. I knew this guy was good at his job. I just nodded and drifted back off into a deep, peaceful slumber.
I didn’t wake until my mom grabbed my hand again and I heard him say, “Now, there’s going to be a big bump here. Just warning you now. This may hurt, son, so try not to worry about it. You okay back there?” He was a man in charge and completely focused. It was almost surreal at how much he genuinely cared about this. As we maneuvered between the curvy walls of the hospital corridors, the paramedic, who I think was named Josh, made small talk almost to himself. I didn’t know if he knew that I couldn’t answer him. It didn’t really matter. I was just glad to be getting off of the big block under me.
Before I knew it, a doctor had come in, examined me, asked me a couple questions, and wrote things down on his note sheet. He then asked the nurses to leave and prepared to make a speech like the ones he probably made in med school.
“You folks were right: he does have a concussion. Now, it’s grade two, which means about mid-way on the scale. He’ll probably have to be out of sports and gym for a week. At the end of that week, he’ll have to see his family doctor to get checked up again and, if at all possible, cleared to play hockey again!” It was almost like he knew what happened just by looking at me. Weird.
“Sports, you mean. He’s been out of lacrosse, track, and hockey for the past month and a half! He strained his LCL in his left knee and has been doing physical therapy for weeks now! He wasn’t really supposed to play tonight, but he thought he could and wasn’t patient enough to wait until he got squared away with that.” My mom just HAD to splurt that out! Yes, I was in physical therapy for some odd weeks and I wasn’t allowed to do ANYTHING for almost two months. I wasn’t using my brain and just disobeyed and didn’t “respect my elders” (meaning my therapist, who would have smacked me when I told her but instead, because of the head, just gave me a dirty stare). I was just anxious to come back and help my teams out and I just got a little carried away, okay? But, kids, remember, always listen to your parents and try to stay away from big animals, frozen ponds, and physical therapists if at all utterly possible. Just a word of advice from the experienced and stupid.
In conclusion to this colossally- uncoordinated domino-effect of events, I had to, like the doc said, stay out of sports and gym for a week, got better, and lived happily ever after. But forever scared of jumping off a cliff and hitting my head. Yeah, like that’ll happen.
