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Luke Madden is a NHL superstar. But when an injury sidelines him, he's required to undergo physical therapy. With a stable family and girlfriend, Luke has all the resources he needs. Or so he thinks. As it turns out, there are...
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Luke
The first night is a bag of mixed emotions.
While the painkillers kick in, I lay in the bed and stare at the ceiling, willing the throbbing in my knee to go away. I press the service button so many times, asking for ice or more water, I think I wear out the poor night shift worker. But they refuse to accept my apologies, arguing (politely) that it's their job to help me.
Once they're gone, I return to staring at the ceiling. The longer I stare, the more time stretches out. Minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days. All I can think about is the hit. The swelling and bruising on my knee. What the future of my career looks like. Every thought that permeates my tired brain feels like a kick to the gut.
I'm a person who relies on schedules and statistics. Now everything is up in flames, and I can't predict what the outcome will look like.
It's almost enough to drive me to tears.
Thankfully, just after midnight, the drugs serve their purpose and I'm able to sleep.
In the morning, however, there is hell to pay.
I wake with an intense throbbing in my knee that radiates through my muscles.
Just as I'm about to hit the service button, Rosalina enters the room. She's dressed in baby-blue scrubs today and is carrying a green tray of food. My stomach grumbles when the smell hits me. Bacon, maple syrup, coffee, pancakes—the entire package. There's even a small container of pills on the side, along with some bottled orange juice.
She sets the food on the dining tray; her gaze locked with mine.
"Thank you," I say, my voice rough.
"You're welcome."
I clear my throat. "Do the pills need to be taken with food?"
She nods. "Take a few bites, at least. How badly does your knee hurt?"
I want to stretch the truth to make myself look stronger, but I don't see the point. Transparency is a factor that affects how you heal. If I'm not cooperative or honest, then I'm putting my career at risk.
"A six," I reply. "It hurts like hell and there's a burning sensation. Is that normal?"
Rosalina nods and makes a few quick notes on her clipboard. "It may not seem normal, but it is. Your body has experienced major trauma, Luke. Not only from the injury, but surgery as well. Considering the time that's elapsed, you're healing considerably fast. But physical therapy is a different ball game. You're pushing the boundaries now. It will not be easy."
I rub my face with the heel of my hand. Every ounce of my being wants to snap at her. To release my anger and project and manipulate it to make this injury seem like it's her fault. But I can't do that. She's not the villain in this story. Her job is to help me, and that's all she wants to do.
