36. Football Can Wait
FOOTBALL CAN WAIT
“ T hat’s it, Warren. Open your eyes, don’t move though.”
He was fighting through a sea of pain and nausea while he tried to figure out where the fuck he was.
His eyes opened, and he saw the team doctors in front of him but almost moving in and out forcing him to shut them again for fear of losing the food he’d eaten today.
“Do you know where you are?” he was asked. He couldn’t even recognize voices.
“The field,” he said.
“What field?”
“Metlife,” he said. “Maybe.”
“Does anything hurt on you?”
“My head,” he said. He went to lift his hand to touch it, but they held it down.
“Anything else? Your neck or back?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“We’re going to get you on the stretcher. Everyone move back.”
He had enough wits about him to breathe in and out deeply as he tried to listen to what was being told of him and fight back the vomit.
The jarring of getting him on the stretcher and strapping him down was something he didn’t want to even think about.
He felt his limbs. He was wiggling his toes and fingers.
Everything seemed to be connected the way it should, but he might wish his head wasn’t on his shoulders with the throbbing and vibrating inside his skull.
He was thinking of Emma and his mother and sisters and moved his forearm and lifted it to give a thumbs up. He knew his actions would be televised, letting them know he was alright.
Or he hoped he was.
He was resting in the hospital bed hours later. At least he thought it was as he’d lost track of time. Doctors ran all sorts of scans and determined that nothing was injured other than his noggin.
He’d lost consciousness for about six minutes, he’d been told. He remembered throwing up in the ambulance and them turning him so he didn’t choke.
Most of the time he’d been here blurred together.
The door opened. “Oh my God. Can I hug you?”
It was Emma rushing toward him and then stopping short of his bed.
“Yes,” he said. “Don’t jar me though.”
She leaned down gently and laid her head on his chest, her hand reaching for his and holding it. “Your mother is on the way with Stephanie. They should be here soon.”
“How did you get here so fast?” he asked.
“Egan,” she said. “I saw it on TV and called. We were in the air thirty minutes later. He was watching Kaden while Blake was running errands. He had to wait for her to get home and then drive there. I hadn’t showered yet, so you know, it allowed me to do that.”
He forced a smile. At least he thought he smiled. “Talk slower,” he said. “I can’t process. Who is Blake?”
Emma took a deep breath and then another. He could tell she was worried, but he couldn’t do much about it. “Egan’s wife. I get it. It’s a big family and you haven’t met her yet.”
“No,” he said. “You said my mother is coming?” He was talking slowly, trying to form his words and thoughts.
He looked into her eyes and saw the concern. Her hand was shaking against his. “Yes. She’s in the car with Stephanie. Do you know what happened?”
“I got my bell rung,” he said.
“And then some,” she said.
“How did you know where I was?” he asked.
“I called Lily, who then was able to find Mike’s number. He’s been keeping me up to date on what was going on.”
“I want to go home,” he said. “You’ve got pull, get me out of here. Egan can fly me home, right?”
She smiled. “I’m sure he could. He’s waiting right now until it’s decided where I need to go or how long I’ll be here.”
She turned when the door opened and he saw the doctor he’d been talking to before come in.
“Can I leave?” Warren asked.
“Not just yet,” the doctor said. “I think we are going to keep you overnight for precaution.”
He looked down. “Can I get some clothes at least?”
He was still in his gear.
“Someone from the team will bring your clothes over,” Emma said. “Mike told me that.”
“Did we win?” he asked.
“Sorry,” she said. “Your backup didn’t do so well even after your touchdown. And that isn’t your concern.”
“How long am I going to be out?” he asked the doctor.
“Don’t even think about football,” she said. “You need to get better.”
“We’ve got time yet for that,” the doctor said. “Why don’t you get some rest? He shouldn’t have too many visitors.”
“My mother is on the way,” he said. “And I want Emma here. She’ll be quiet. I’m sure she’ll just sit over there and type.”
He heard her sniffling some. “I don’t have my computer with me. I ran out the door with my phone and purse and nothing else.” She turned to look at the doctor. “He’s definitely staying the night?”
“Yes,” the doctor said.
“Can I stay here with him?”
“Yes,” Warren said before anyone else could answer. “I don’t want her to leave.”
“We’ll bring in another bed for you once you’re in a different room.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked.
“The team has requested a private suite. There will be space for a few people if they behave.”
“We will,” she said.
When the doctor left, he said, “I can’t believe you left the house without your laptop. You never do.”
“I wasn’t even thinking of it,” she said. “I’m lucky I got a shower in before I was out the door. I don’t think I match either.”
“It’s a shirt and jeans,” he said. “They match.”
“My socks don’t,” she said, lifting her leg and pulling the denim up to her calf. “Not to my shirt or each other. But I’ve got matching sneakers on my feet at least.”
“No one cares,” he said. “I see the concern in your eyes. Tell me what is going on.”
“You need to rest,” she said quietly.
“Emma. Tell me.”
“You’re talking slow. Like you need to concentrate on your words. It’s scary.”
“I’m sorry. I am scared because I am concentrating on my words.”
She sniffled. “Shhhh, no more talking. Please. Close your eyes. I’ll go wait for your mom and Stephanie to get here.”
He nodded his head and even that motion hurt, but he was still nauseous and too tired to fight her on it.
The next time he opened his eyes, he heard whispering.
“Hey,” his mother said. “You’re scaring me. I just need to hear your voice.”
“Mom,” he said. “What time is it?”
“It’s six,” his mother said. “You’ve been in and out for a few hours. Do you remember?”
“No,” he said. “I’m hungry though.”
“That’s good,” his mother said. “They are going to transfer you to another floor and room. We were told we can stay if we are quiet and let you sleep.”
He turned his head. “Where is Emma?”
“She went to the bathroom,” Stephanie said. “Warren, I can’t do this again.”
“Not now, Stephanie,” his mother said.
He was focusing his eyes more. “I don’t need a lecture. There will be enough time for that later. What did the doctor say? You’d remember it better.”
“He said you’ve got a grade three concussion. You’re going to be out for a few weeks to recover. That means not even practicing or showing up at the stadium. Your brain needs to heal, Warren. Football can wait.”
“Yeah,” he said. He never thought he’d give in so easily, but he’d been terrified after his last concussion, which wasn’t nearly as bad as this.
All that research he’d done made its way back into his mind where he wished he had his defensive line to tackle it and take it away.
“Is he awake again?” Emma asked, walking into the room.
“I am,” he said. “Come here.”
She moved closer to him, but stayed by his mother’s side. His mother inched out of the way to let Emma in to sit on the bed where he was patting it.
“You look a little more alert,” she said.
“I think I’m just refreshed. And hungry.”
“Do you remember Coach coming in to see you?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “Did I talk to him?”
“You did, but not much. He brought your clothes, but I don’t think they are going to be comfortable and you don’t want a gown. I can get you some pajama pants and a T-shirt from the gift shop.”
“Thanks,” he said. “That works.”
“I’ll do it,” his mother said. “Stephanie, come with me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said when his family left the room.
“What are you sorry about?” she asked.
“Scaring you. Making you leave the island. I know you’ve got work to do.”
“Warren,” she said. “Don’t make me raise my voice and get pissed at you.”
“I hate this for you,” he said.
“Shhhhh. Don’t,” she said, lightly running her finger down his jaw, then pulling it away as if he’d break. “You’re the one going through it. I hate it for you.”
He snorted. “It sucks. I just wish my mind had been on the game more.”
“What?” she asked. “It wasn’t? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he lied. “What did I just say?”
She seemed to buy it. “Never mind,” she said. “Why don’t we order you some food? It won’t be as good as Marcia’s.”
“I’d eat one of your frozen dinners right now I’m so hungry.”
“That might be what you’re going to get anyway,” she said, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
He might be foggy right now, but he knew enough to watch what he was saying and not worry them any more.