Chapter 33
After two days in the hospital with nothing to do, I spend most of my time in a daze, trying to wrap my head around everything that has happened. I’m more than ready to get the surgery scheduled. Luckily, I had Rachel bring Lily by when she could, and Elliot was here whenever he had a free moment to help make sure I was staying in good spirits. At the end of the day, he is still one of my best friends. And he did me a real solid with Dr. Maria Lyons. She has taken care of all of the red tape needed to make sure that I can continue my treatment plan with her and, most importantly, here in Atlanta. The second the neurologist cleared me for surgery, I was on Dr. Lyons’ schedule for the surgery the next morning.
The morning of the surgery, I wake up and stare up at the sterile ceiling. The quiet of the room makes my heartbeat pick up quickly, pounding way faster than it should after just waking up. I don’t know why; I’m no stranger to broken bones, or doctors, for that matter. It all sucks royally, but it's never gotten to me like this before. Something about this surgery feels different, more final, and all of it has me very unsettled.
The hospital room door opens, pulling me from my thoughts, and Dr. Lyons steps in. She’s got her scrubs on, a tablet once again in her hand, and her bright red hair pulled back neatly in a bun.
“Morning, Oren,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring. She sounds exactly how you want your doctor to when they’re about to cut you open. Confident. Her impressive confidence does little to keep my fingers from drumming against the bed as I wait for the other shoe to drop.
“How are you feeling this morning?” she asks, a warmth filling her professional demeanor now.
“Like I’d rather be anywhere else,” I mutter, the edge in my tone telling her that I am ready to get this over with.
“Well, the goal is for everything to go as smoothly as possible and get you back home soon.” she says, her smile softening as she gives me another reassuring look.
I nod, trying to settle what is happening to my nerves this morning.
“First thing’s first,” she says, reading over her notes before continuing. “Today’s surgery is an ACL reconstruction. Our team will use a graft to replace the torn ligament in your knee. Surgery will take around three hours, and you’ll be under general anesthesia throughout the procedure. After surgery, you will be moved to post-op while you wake up from anesthesia. Once awake, you will be moved back to the room where we’ll monitor you for the first 24 hours, and after that, if all goes well, we’ll have you home in about 48 hours.”
Home. Rachel’s home. That hits me hard, almost like a punch to the gut. I doubt I’ll ever be able to express how grateful I am for the opportunity Rachel’s given me. I want to stay here, keep Dr. Lyons as my surgeon, and heal from this with people, other than my teammates, who care about me. Spending more time alone with Lily is worth it, and Rachel is the added bonus. She really has made the most of the shittiest situations. Her stepping up for me like this is everything, but it still makes me nervous too. The logistics of how this will work is just a start. I don’t want to disrupt their space, be a burden for Rachel, or mess things up with either of them. Not to mention the fact that the time I spend with Rachel makes it hard to ignore the attraction I feel to her, which leaves me in an uncomfortable, constant state of turned on. But even with all of that in consideration, the idea of being here, with them, is the only thing I’m looking forward to right now.
She pauses, letting that sink in before continuing. “Do you have any questions before we move on?”
“Nope, got it…” I shake my head. “Just ready to get it over with.”
She nods, moving on to the next item on the checklist. “Any new developments or changes in your symptoms since last night?”
I almost make a joke, but even the thought of that requires too much energy. Instead, I just shrug. “Nothing new.”
“Good,” she says, making a note. “As we’ve already talked about–your concussions–I’m concerned about them being back to back. I am concerned that this is keeping your injuries from healing as quickly as they should. After the surgery, we’ll continue monitoring the concussion, and I want you to be diligent with rest. Pushing too hard too soon will set you back even more.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to argue, and sulk back into my pillows even more. She’s right, and I know it, but I don’t like it. “Got it.”
“I’m serious Oren, I want you to understand that all of this is non-negotiable. Not just the surgery, but everything that comes after,” Dr. Maria gives me a very intimidating look. “We have to wait and see for now. Once the swelling starts to go down after surgery, we’ll start creating a thorough plan.”
She stops to study me, then continues, “The recovery process will take time. Months of rehab, strengthening exercises, and R&R. You can’t rush it. If you try, you risk permanent damage. I know you’re eager to get back on the ice, but you need to heal properly first.”
I nod, but my stomach tightens at her words. “How long are we talking?”
“Best case, you’re looking at six months before getting back to practice, then seeing some playing time midway through next season. Worst case, closer to nine or more if complications arise.”
The number makes my stomach drop. I fail at hiding my frustration, and Dr. Lyons calls me on it. I’m far from the first athlete she’s disappointed with the reality of the situation they’ve found themselves in.
“I know it’s tough, but this is your future we’re talking about,” she adds gently. “If you don’t take this seriously now, you could jeopardize the rest of your career. And I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, are you?”
“Fuck, no.” I swallow hard.
“Didn’t think so.” She laughs a little, smiling, giving me one last bit of reassurance before she moves to the end of the bed. “Now, let me introduce you to the team. They’ll be with us for the surgery.”
She sticks her head out into the hallway and calls out, bringing two more people into the room. “This is your anesthesiologist, Dr. Lee, and Dr. Meyers, who will be assisting throughout the surgery.”
They both greet me with professional, practiced smiles. Dr. Lee speaks up first. “We’ll start the anesthesia soon. You won’t feel a thing.”
“Feel free to throw in some extras for my troubles,” I try to joke, but my voice cracks slightly.
Dr. Lee reassures me. “Once you’re under, we’ll take care of the rest.”
“Great,” I mutter. “I’m holding you to that.”
Dr. Lyons checks her watch, then looks at me again. “Okay, Oren. We’re pretty much ready to go. I’ll see you in surgery, but you won’t remember it.” She gives me a quick nod that somehow manages to make me feel a little bit better.
As she turns to leave, my phone buzzes. Once I see Rachel’s name, I quickly pick up.
“Hey, Oren,” she says, her voice slightly stressed but apologetic. “I’m so sorry I can’t be there. Work…it’s—. Everything is a nightmare, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. My goal is to be nonchalant, who knows if I hit my mark. “I’ll be out of it anyway, right? It’s fine. I don’t want you to stress over this.”
There’s a pause, and I can hear the guilt in her silence. “I just wanted to be there. For you not to be by yourself.”
Before really getting to know Rachel, I would have never thought twice about doing anything alone. Now, I want her here more than I ever want to admit. Because being honest about that means being honest about how big of a part of my life I want her to be. And that scares me. For now, knowing she’ll be there when I wake up helps a lot.
“You’re already doing more than enough, Rachel. Seriously. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you after.”
She sighs softly. “Okay. Good luck, Oren. I’ll be there when you wake up.”
We hang up, and I close my eyes for a second, centering myself, trying to shake off the nerves. A nurse replaces the surgery team, then he adjusts the IV in my arm, and I know it’s time. They wheel me down toward the hall, to my fate. The surgery team continues to calm my nerves and it doesn’t take them long to get me ready for surgery.
And just like that, everything fades to black.