Willy plays rec hockey a couple of times a week. I have a love-hate relationship with his participation, one that I am not so great at hiding. I LOVE it because he is playing a sport that he has grown to love, it gives him a chance to get out with the boys and have some fun on a regular basis, and it sets a great example for the lil peeps. I HATE it because the games are at wonky times making him too tired at times, it leaves me at home alone with the lil peeps at bedtime far too often, and I want to be playing too. Last night, I gained a new reason to hate it.
When Willy called at 8:05pm, I assumed it was to tell me that he was going out for pints after the game, because that is what you do when you play beer league hockey. I was surprised to hear that he hurt his shoulder and would be going to the hospital. This alarmed me immediately. It is not that he is a stranger to our local emergency room (they know him by name), it’s that he was going right away. Willy is more of a “wait and take stock” kinda guy, so for him to be heading to the hospital moments after the game, it was serious. I masked my concern by asking all sorts of silly questions about the logistics of the trip – who was driving, what car, how would the driver’s car get home, how would our car get home… Questions that I am Willy really wanted to answer when in excruciating pain. He got me off the phone and headed off.
The rest of the evening was spent fretting while waiting. I was distracted by some friends on twitter and kept somewhat in the loop by one of the guys on the team. He arrived home just after midnight with the sad news that he had a grade II/III shoulder separation. According to Dr. Google, this is a pretty decent one, and could take up to 12 weeks to heal, if it doesn’t need surgery. Willy wasn’t in too much pain, so he gave me the re-cap, and we headed to bed.
This really sucks for Willy, and I feel terrible that it happened to him now. He’s only been playing hockey for a few years now, but this year he was starting to feel really comfortable and get better at it. He loves playing squash but had to take the summer off of playing squash because of a back injury, but this week had been given the all-clear to resume playing. He doesn’t get to pick-up the lils, can’t play with them the same way and misses out on at least a weeks worth of their not-so-gentle cuddles and snuggles. It’s his left arm and he is left-handed. You get the idea.
This is going to put a strain on all of us, but we’ll deal with it. The selfish me though, is really ticked because I was getting him new shoulder pads and hockey pants for Christmas. I’ll be damned if I am going to give him a gift that reminds him that he can’t use them yet. Now I have to come up with something else, and he is not the easiest person to buy for.