She tuned out a lot of the rest of the conversation. Tyler discussed what the team had been told about the therapy Sam had coming up. But Trina wanted to hear this from Sam. She just wanted to talk to him, or better yet, see him. She wanted to hold him, and run her fingers through his hair, and stare into his ocean-blue eyes.
After dinner and once everyone was gone, the house was calm and quiet. Talia brought a bottle of wine and stemmed glasses to the living room, and sat them on the coffee table. A fire was roaring, taking the chill out of the room. She kicked her designer heels off and curled up on the couch next to Trina.
Trina was already barefoot and in her pajamas, at her sister’s request. Talia had cleaned the kitchen while Trina put Willow to bed and got comfortable.
“Well, that was a very nice evening.” Talia poured a glass of wine for herself, and went to pour a second one. “Your friends are wonderful. I can see why you love it here, well, besides the snow.”
Putting her hand over the empty glass, Trina stopped her sister from filling her glass. “No thanks. None for me.”
Her sister wrinkled her face up in puzzlement. “But you didn’t even touch your wine at dinner.”
“I drank some,” Trina countered. She knew she could have a little alcohol and not hurt the baby, just not to overdo it. To not bring too much attention to herself, she’d had a few sips. Wine wasn’t her first choice when it came to alcohol, anyway.
“Liar. You barely finished one glass. What’s going on?”
“You know I am not a wine drinker. I prefer beer.” A true statement, but she hadn’t touched a beer since she found out she was pregnant.
Talia motioned as though she was about to stand up. “Then I’ll go get you a beer.”
“No, Tal, I’m good.” Trina sat back into the soft cushions and closed her eyes.
The quiet room was warm and comforting, with soft music playing in the background. She missed their music. Their house was always filled with music, rap typically, something that she and Sam enjoyed. But since he’d been hurt, silence occupied the house.
Thinking of her husband, Trina’s chest ached. Forgetting where she was and who was sitting with her, warm tears filled her eyes. Her days weren’t the same without Sam here. Her life wasn’t the same. Sure, having Talia here made things easier, but it wasn’t the same.
“Tri? What’s going on with you? Besides the obvious.” Talia drank her wine and poured more.
Trina pulled her knees tighter to her chest. She knew she was too early to be showing, way too early. But it was almost as if she was self-conscious that someone would be able to tell just by looking at her. “Nothing is going on with me. I’m under a lot of stress, that’s all. I’m fine.”
“And normally, stress is solved, or at least eased, by a bottle of Corona.” Talia raised her eyebrow in suspicion. “Especially in this house.”
Not this time. Trina couldn’t stop a hot tear from sliding down her cheek. Letting the other tears loose felt freeing and calming. So much was going on in her life. Without saying anything, she covered her face and allowed herself to cry.
Talia covered Trina’s other hand with her own, then snaked her arm around Trina’s shoulders, comforting her. Nothing was said for a long time while Trina just cried, leaning on her sister’s shoulder. She missed her husband, and she missed their life together.
After the tears stopped falling, Trina took a few deep breaths, calming herself. She wiped her eyes and unfolded from her sister’s hug. She sat back and took a gulp of her ice water. Crying was like cleansing her soul, and she always felt better afterwards. However, it also gave away to her sister that there was more going on than she knew.
Talia looked down her nose and over her wine glass. “Okay Tri, what’s going on? You know I won’t give up until I figure it out, so spill it.”
She knew sister was not going to let up, it was past that point. “I’m keeping a secret from Sam, not because I want to. I just want to wait until he’s back to normal, or mostly.” She was rambling. “I want to tell my Sam, not that monster that he becomes from the pain. His mood swings are too unpredictable right now. I never know who I’m going to get.”
“Yeah, I get that. And I agree. But you two don’t keep secrets.”
“You’re right, we don’t. But I think he’ll be okay with this one.”
Talia took a gulp of wine, as if she were preparing for some bombshell. Then she looked from her wine to Trina’s bottle of water. Her expression softened, and a smile that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame formed on her face. “Your makeup is running. Since when do you need to cover up bags under your eyes?”
Trina wiped under her eyes. Obviously, her eyeliner was running from her tears, but she forgot about the dark circles. She’d never had bags under her eyes, ever, until this second pregnancy.
Trina contested the claim, as if that would make them disappear. “I don’t have dark circles under my—”
“You’re pregnant. Aren’t you?” Talia wasn’t really asking a question, she was making a statement.
Nodding, because there was no use in lying, Trina said, “You can’t tell Sam. I need to be the one to tell him. I need him to be the first to know.”
Talia shook her head, confused. “But you already told me.”
“Technically, I didn’t tell you. You guessed.”
“Whatever you say. So Ty doesn’t know?”
“Are you kidding me? I just said Sam has to be the first to know. And Tyler, really? He’s the least observant person in the world.” The thought that their brother would pay enough attention to figure this out on his own was amusing and caused them both to chuckle. Ty paid attention to two things: hockey and Paige.
“But Kat? She’s kind of in-your-face, you know? She’d certainly figure it out.”
“I guess she is, just a little bit, but she means well. She’s a wonderful friend. I don’t think she’s much older than me, but she’s still kind of like my surrogate big-sister. So, I guess it’s okay. And if she does know, which I’m sure she’s figured it out if you did, she’s keeping it to herself. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.”
“She wouldn’t even tell her husband? I know I would tell Michael.”
Trina snickered. “I know you would. But Kat? No way. Kris would accidently tell Tyler, then you know how he is, loose lips and all…” Since Ty was their little brother, their ribbing never ended, even when he wasn’t there to defend himself. “Trust me on this. When I was pregnant with Willow, I told Sam not to tell anyone yet, and he let it slip to the entire team. The entire team! Not just one guy.” She laughed at the memory, but her amusement turned to sadness as she thought about her handsome and loving husband.
“I know you miss him, Tri. I promise this is all going to work out. What you two have is special. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. I know that he’ll fight as hard as he needs to get back to you. And once he finds out everything he was fighting for, he’s going to be over the moon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sam
Sam’s day started off in Dr. Dash’s office, going through test after test. He knew the typical drill for concussions, but this was much more in depth. Biting his tongue was all Sam could do to hide his annoyance. He wondered what walking on his heels or touching his finger to his nose told the doctor about his headaches, but who was he to question? As the doctor talked, Tyler sat out of the way and texted busily.
It was better that Tyler relay the info than him. Sam was doing his best to concentrate on what the doc was saying, but his focus was off. At least this way, if Sam missed something important, Tyler would pick up on it. Everything about this visit was important, but his brain was only focused on one thing: how long it would be before he could get back on the ice.
He hated being wired like this. But the game was as important to him as his family. They were both his number one in life. Not having Tri or the game was slowly killing him.
Already on edge, the menial te
sts were annoying him. Dr. Dash examined Sam’s eyes with a penlight, flashing it in front of him. The bright light left little black dots in his line of sight. The doc pressed on his neck and on points down his spine. Every place where pressure was put on Sam’s neck made him want to jump up and cross-check the doctor. And when the pressure on his neck was released, a burning sensation remained.
“So, Sam, there’s no sign of concussion as far as I can tell. However, after reading your file and examining you, I believe what you are experiencing is best categorized as post-concussive syndrome, and I believe, occipital neuritis, as well.”
Exasperated and aggravated, the next words fell from Sam’s lips. “What the fuck is that?” He wasn’t usually this crass in public, but lately his brain wasn’t working to filter what was coming out of his mouth.
“Sam, you know what post-concussive symptoms are, right?” The doctor took his time in explaining.
Sam nodded. That was a term he’d heard thrown around a lot as a hockey player. It basically meant that the player had had a concussion and even though he didn’t anymore, he was still messed up. It was usually followed by a wait-and-see or no-timetable for return. As far as he knew, rest was the only prescription, and Sam had no patience for that.
“Post-concussion syndrome is a general, all-inclusive term for symptoms that occur after a concussion. There are no longer any signs of the concussion, but you’re still injured. Er, your brain is still recovering. I’m sure you’ve experienced them before, after hits. Some symptoms are worse than others, and they will all go away with time. The thing with the post-concussion syndrome is that all you can really do is rest.” He paused as though waiting for Sam to indicate his understanding.
Sam nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. So what’s the other thing? The occipi-thing?”
“The occipital neuritis is a term that refers to an injury that occurs to the nerves that run from your spinal cord up through your scalp: the occipital nerves. When they become inflamed, it causes occipital neuritis. I believe that is causing some of the severe pain you’re feeling. I’m positive that occurred with the combination of the last two hits you took. The first hit, not being that bad, still jolted your neck, and more than likely impacted your spine.”
Sam tried to recall the symptoms he’d experienced after the first hit, but came up empty.
Doctor Dash continued. “The second hit was more severe. It caused more problems, but the way the hit occurred, the impact targeted your neck… Well, this is the outcome. There’s really no way of knowing which hit caused it, or if it even goes back earlier than that, and that this last hit was all your body could take before finally reacting.”
Dr. Dash was no longer poking and prodding Sam, but instead sat down across the room on his rolling stool. “I’d like to try a few things today while you’re here. Does that sound okay?”
“Sure.” Not wasting any time sounded like a good deal to Sam. Plus, he had nowhere else to be.
The doctor clapped his hands with an expression of approval on his face. “Excellent. First things first, we need to get your muscles to relax. So, we’ll start with some heat therapy, and then move to massage therapy.”
“Sounds like a damn spa.” As they’d been doing recently, the words came out more bitter than he’d intended.
The doctor shrugged off his comment and sour attitude. “Maybe. It’s a therapeutic massage versus a spa treatment. But we’ll see how you feel once we can get those muscles to relax. I can give you some muscle relaxants to take at home to help, too. They are one-hundred percent natural and team doctor approved.”
“And if I still feel like shit?” With any luck these massages will help me get my filter back.
“If we aren’t seeing any results, then we’ll try a nerve block. I’d rather put that off as a last resort, though. But if, in the end, it’s necessary, it will help decrease the pain while we work on reducing the swelling. Once we get that under control, the pain will start to go away on its own.”
The pain going away on its own, and him getting back to normal was the outcome Sam longed for. But he was smart enough to know that there was no quick fix when it came to the brain. It’d been four weeks since the hit that caused all of this. The hit that changed his life. “How long is all this going to take?”
“You mean when will you be playing again?”
Sam shrugged, but nodded, feeling pathetic. That was exactly what he meant. It’s so hard when the ice gets taken away from a hockey player. It’s all we know. The regular season was almost over; it was closing in on the end of March. Teams were concerned about where they stood in the playoff race, but he was only concerned about when he’d get back on the ice. He had no delusions. He knew there was a chance he was done for this season.
“I can’t give you a time frame until we see how you respond. For now, you’re going to stay on long-term injured reserve. I refuse to put your well-being in jeopardy just to get you back on the ice sooner. I’ll let you know when you’re ready. Any more questions that don’t include when you’ll be back in the game?”
“The season is almost over,” Sam grumbled. He swallowed hard and slowly blinked his eyes. Annoyed at the truth he already knew, Sam’s breaths deepened. He was out for the season, and it killed him inside.
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Morris.” Dr. Dash scribbled something down in the file, then directed his attention back to Sam. His eyes were wide and calm. “And you’ll be watching from the sidelines for as long as you need to for a complete recovery.”
Dr. Dash stared at him. Sam could only assume that he had a pissed-off look on his face, because that’s how he felt. He was angry at his injury and angry at what a shit-show his personal life had turned into because of the injury.
“Sam, you understand that this isn’t something to take lightly. It’s your brain. I know the hit you took, and I know the way you chose to handle it. I also know that left up to you, you’d have been on that ice and playing that game the other night, hopped up on pain pills. Speaking of which, you were fortunate that the urine test caught the Oxycodone usage before your body became dependent on it. Another week or two, we may be having a different discussion.” Dr. Dash shook his head with certainty. “And if you’d taken another hit to the head, this meeting would be much more grim. Maybe I wouldn’t be talking to you. Maybe I’d be relaying all of it to Tyler or your wife. Maybe we wouldn’t be talking about recovery, but discussing long term pain management and your hanging up the skates for good. So take this as a second chance.”
The doctor’s demeanor told Sam that he’d given this advice and possibly much worse more often than not. There’s no way I’m the first athlete to come in here only concerned about getting back in the game.
Tyler was still typing away on his phone. Dr. Dash looked in his direction. Judging from the unconcerned look on the doctor’s face, Sam figured he was used to guys coming in here and having someone else relay their info. Probably guys with more messed up heads than me.
Sam knew he’d have to give this a chance. He owed it to his family. “Tyler’s communicating with my wife, to make sure she gets all the information accurately. I haven’t done too much on my phone since I’ve been in pain. It hurts too much to try to focus on the little screen. Plus, I’m trying to comprehend all that you’re saying. Tyler’ll also make sure I don’t miss something important.”
The doctor nodded in agreement. “Let’s get you into a room and started on the heat therapy. We’ll work on getting your muscles relaxed today, then tomorrow start out slow.”
The heat he was using at home was already helping, so Sam was anxious to see how the heat therapy and a massage would make him feel. He didn’t like the situation, but the doc was right. Things could be worse. He was lucky this was all he was dealing with.
The sooner he could get this pain under control, the sooner he could get back to his family while he recovered. He pushed the thought of missing the rest of the season out of his mind and concentra
ted on getting better, even though getting better sooner rather than later was still his goal. “Let’s do it.”
One day of relaxation therapy was all he needed before he was begging Dr. Dash to open the physical therapy gym to him. The heat therapy and the therapeutic massage rejuvenated and relaxed him, but now he was itching to do something more. He was more than happy to do that each morning if it meant he could get into the gym every afternoon.
He’d had a good night. The heating pad helped more than he ever could’ve imagined. Waking up after the best night’s sleep he’d had since the injury, he was ready to take on the world. At this rate, he’d be home to Tri and Willow in no time.
Not wanting to get his wife’s hopes up, he kept his progression to himself for now. He’d let her down once, and he didn’t want to do it again.
He’d been working with Dr. Dash for three days now. Today was day one in the therapy gym, and it went well. He killed it on the stationary bike and walked five miles on the treadmill. “Dr. Dash, I’m feeling great! I’m killing this therapy shit!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that. Take it one day at a time, Sam.”
By the time evening rolled around, Sam was exhausted. His appetite was back, but after he texted Trina to see how she was doing and to update her on his day, he dozed off. Not long after, a sharp pain woke him out of his sleep. Still in a haze, he rolled around, grasping his forehead in pain. A humming buzzed in his brain. It was annoying and wouldn’t go away.
The surging pain running through his skull wasn’t the same level that it was before he went to see Dr. Dash, but it was intense. Curling into the fetal position, he just wanted it to stop. Fuck me. Maybe I overdid it this afternoon.
His mind drifted to the pain pills. He knew one pill would take this away immediately, and then a few sleeping pills would help him sleep through the night. Pills? Am I that weak? Rolling onto his back, he controlled his breathing and did his best to relax all the muscles in his body. I can get through this. I can do this. Without any pills.
Blindsided: Renegades 7 (The Renegades Series) Page 17