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Yeah. She was proud. We celebrated the win in our own way when I got home after the game.
“Season’s coming down to the wire.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. We’re right on the wild card bubble and getting to the point where we have to rely on our own wins in combination with other teams losing in order to move up and secure a spot as wildcards or divisional winners. “And we’re facing Pittsburgh this weekend.”
“On the road, too,” Walter says with a smile. “I like our chances.”
I’m glad someone does.
Pittsburgh is a tough opponent and they’re coming in on the same bubble we are. This game is the definition of a must win. Forbothteams.
“AH!” Francine’s cry carries across the gym and I turn to find her face down on an exam table attempting to bend her surgical knee back. She breathes heavily, hanging her head and gently lowering her leg back to the table.
“It’s part of the process,” Walter says, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder. “It’sthe worstpart of the process when you’re on this side of it.”
“I really hate seeing her in pain.”
“I know what you mean. I used to stay down in the waiting room when Gladys first started because I couldn’t stand seeing her in pain. It doesn’t get easier, butthey,” he points across the room to where Gladys has come alongside Francine, holding Francine’s hand with one hand, and wiping her forehead witha towel she has clutched in the other, “start to heal, and their sessions get easier.”
“You promise?” There’s more emotion in my voice than I realized, and moisture pooling in the corners of my eyes.
“You’ll be just fine, son. And so will she.”
When Francine’s session is over, she drops slowly into the empty seat beside me and sighs when an assistant drapes an ice pack over her knee. Gladys is still across the clinic on a set of stairs, behind in her session after taking a break to sit with Francine. She catches my eye and smiles, throwing me a wink as she does, and some small part of me feels like I’m being welcomed to a club of some kind. Let in on something not everyone gets to see.
“Thanks for keeping me company Walter,” I shake the man’s hand as Francine and I get ready to leave. “I’ll be on the road for her next session so keep an eye on her for me?”
“Gladys and I will take good care of her.Youbetter take good care of Pittsburgh this weekend.”
“I’ll try my best,” I answer with a laugh.
“You better!” Gladys calls across the gym, narrowing her eyes and making anI’m watching yougesture.
“She’s all bark,” Walter stage-whispers, a fond look on his face. “See you again soon.”
Francine and I walk slowly across the parking lot to her surgeon’s office, finding ourselves in a crowded waiting room, surrounded by people of all ages with various casts and braces and walking aids. Francine has been off her crutches since her second week post-op, and was able to remove her dressings after two days. I’m hopeful going into the appointment with Francine’s surgeon, but she’s tempering her expectations. More than anything, she just wants to get back on the ice.
“What if he says I can’t skate again?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice.
Twining my fingers with hers, I take her hand and hold it tight.
I don’t know how to answer her question. I would be devastated if I couldn’t. Francineloveshockey. Shelovesher league and her team and her teammates, and I don’t want to think about what the future looks like for Francine if she can’t play again. She faced this possibility before and came back stronger, and I have to believe that she’ll do it again.
“Francine?” A medical assistant calls from across the waiting room and Francine turns to me, an unspoken question in her eyes. I stand, and walk with her to the exam room.
Twelve weeks.
Twelve weeks post-op and she can start running drills on the ice again.
It was the first thing Francine asked when the surgeon walked in the room. He had her lay back on an exam table to check her strength and range of motion, and seemed impressed with the way her incisions are healing.
“You’re three weeks out from surgery,” Dr. Kahlid sits across from Francine on his rolling stool, “from what I’ve seen today I feel confident that you will skate again. Keep up with your therapy. Come see me again in another four weeks and we’ll re-evaluate. Any other questions?”
“That was my most pressing question,” Francine answers with a small laugh, her shoulders lowering the slightest bit. “That puts me out for the rest of the season, but gives me lots of time to get back into playing form.”
“Keep the contact low your first few games out,” Dr. Kahlid remarks as he makes a few notes in her chart. “You should be fine.”
“I’ll try,” Francine answers with a laugh that leaves me shaking my head as she mutters under her breath, “no promises.”
