***
When I got home, my parents weren’t there because Mama insisted on cooking for me, so she stopped by the grocery store first. As much as I wanted to be left alone, I was not passing up my mama’s cooking for nothing. So, I was here with my parents, sister, Tink and Nae.
“You okay, Bubby?” Lani asked as she snuggled under me.
“I’m straight, so get your big ass head off me.” I mushed her head with my good arm, causing her to do the same.
“You need me to get you anything?” Tink asked as she came back into the living room. I looked at her and immediately knew what she could give me.
“Yeah, but it’s too many people in here right now,” I flirted.
“You’re gross.” Lani frowned.
Tink sat on the other side of me but was careful not to bother my shoulder. Once she was comfortable, I maneuvered my body and laid my head in her lap. She started playing in my hair like she always did and was going to put my ass to sleep.
“Boy, you’re just spoiled all the way around,” Pops started. “Got your mama in there cooking dinner... your sister running around and poor Janae doesn’t even know why she’s here,” he laughed.
“I’m here for emotional support,” she countered.
“’Preciate that, Nae. This nigga just a hater,” I countered.
It was rare that I just got to sit around and not do shit. I was always on the go. Right now, I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t worried about what the doctor was going to tell me in the morning. Whatever he said would determine the fate of my career, and I was at the peak of this muthafucka. I couldn’t stop now.
***
Dr. Caldwell spent a few moments reviewing the MRI before turning the monitor slightly in my direction.
“The shoulder partially dislocated on the play and immediately reduced itself, which is why the trainers suspected a subluxation. The MRI confirmed that diagnosis, but it also showed a tear in the labrum. The good news is that there’s no fracture and no major structural damage beyond that. The bad news is that labral tears don’t simply disappear with time.”
I looked at the image on the screen before shifting my attention back to her.
“How bad we talking?”
“Bad enough that surgery is a reasonable option, but not so bad that it’s the only option. If this happened during the off season, my recommendation would probably be different. Given where we are in the year, you have a decision to make.”
She closed the file and folded her hands on the desk.
“Surgery would repair the tear and address the instability in the joint. It would also end your season immediately. The alternative is rehabilitation. We’d focus on reducing inflammation, restoring strength, improving stability, and monitoring how the shoulder responds over the next several weeks. If everything progresses the way we’d like, a return this season remains possible.”
The only part of that answer that mattered was the last sentence.
“So my season isn’t over.”
“No. It isn’t over. I just can’t promise you when you’ll be back or what the shoulder will look like once you are.”
That was fair. Professional football came with plenty of guarantees. Staying healthy was never one of them.
Dr. Caldwell continued, “The timeline we’re looking at is roughly six to eight weeks, assuming there aren’t any setbacks. You’ll spend a lot of time with the rehab staff, a lot of time with Mercer, and probably more time doing recovery work than you’ve spent catching footballs this year. It won’t be fun, and it won’t be quick, but it’s a realistic path if your goal is to return before the season ends.”
I nodded and leaned back in the chair.
“What would you recommend if I wasn’t a football player?”
“Surgery,” she said with no hesitation.
“I’ll send everything over to Dr. Mercer and let him coordinate the next steps. For now, focus on the things you can control. Your shoulder’s going to heal on its own regardless of how stubborn you are.”
***
