Taking pity on him, Dr.Jimenez pinned up printouts of the interior of Phil’s knee on the board behind her desk.She walked him through each image, showing him the places where his tendons used to be.
“My professional opinion is, surgery or no surgery, you need a lengthy stint in PT to rehab the ligaments.”
Phil nodded slowly.He’d figured.“And do you recommend surgery?”
She leaned back in her chair, her face revealing nothing.“It’s possible you will rehab your knee for months and then discover you need the surgery after all.It’s just as possible an operation will bring more complications and stall your recovery.In this case, with so little ligament remaining, it could go either way.”
The last time, Phil had gotten injured in the middle of a playoff run and had spent the off-season rehabbing after surgery.He’d managed to rejoin the team in mid-November, but he’d have preferred to take a few more weeks.This time, the ticking clock ran out in September along with his contract.
As if reading his mind, Dr.Jimenez said, “We also need to consider that this would be your second reconstructive surgery on the same ligament, which means it will have a longer recovery process, and you’ll be unlikely to regain the full range of motion you had previously.”
Phil swallowed thickly.“Do you have odds for me?”
The doctor’s eyebrows drew together.“Are you a betting man?”
“Only when I know I can win.”
“In that case…” Dr.Jimenez pulled off her glasses and set them on the table in front of her.She looked at Phil and away from the grotesque images of his knee.“Youcansave your full range of motion only with intense physical therapy.It’s possible.I can’t give you exact odds on your success; medicine doesn’t work like that.But I can promise hard work and physical therapy will guarantee functionality in the range of seventy or eighty percent.”
Seventy or eighty percent wouldn’t win any playoff games.“And surgery?”
She steepled her fingers.“In my opinion, we won’t be able to tell if surgery would be beneficial until we can estimate your progress with physical therapy.”
“What’s my timeline?”
“Months,” she said crisply.
Phil nodded.“All right.Thanks for your time.”
“Don’t thank me for doing my job.”
He got to his feet slowly, using the armrest of his chair as a support while he pulled on his jacket.
“Mr.Easton?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“This may fall on deaf ears, but while your dedication to your team is commendable, there is life after hockey.Go back on the ice too soon, push yourself too hard, and you will spend the rest of your life with one bad leg.”
Phil smiled tightly and hobbled out of the office on his crutches.
Life after hockey.
He used to imagine that.
During the last five years, he’d pictured Camille in one of the fitted sundresses she had about forty of, sitting in the garden sipping lemonade while he played catch with the dog they could get when he stopped playing and spent more time at home.Before he’d married Camille, he’d pictured a kid or two and a soccer ball.
But Camille didn’t want kids, and Phil wanted her, so he’d changed his dream.And then they’d stopped wanting each other, and now not even the dog showed up in his imagination.It was just him, alone in the backyard, throwing a ball at the wall over and over again.
Did it matter if his knee was too fucked up for that?
Maybe, just maybe, if he could skate in time for playoffs, he could sit alone in his garden with a cup ring for company.That would take out some of the sting.
He took an Uber home and made idle chitchat with the driver about the weather and the Bobcats.Franziska, the trainer he worked with most often, had emailed him a schedule along with exercises he could start, so he hit up his home gym.He updated his grocery order and let his cleaning lady know he would be home for the foreseeable future.
Then the clock struck 1:30 p.m., and he was out of things to do with his day.
The Sea Lions weren’t playing today.Instead, Phil spent the afternoon watching Anaheim decimate Ottawa 6–1.Preseason projections had Anaheim as a wildcard at best this year, but they currently had the Sea Lions beat in the standings.They ought to be better than this.
