Page 38 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

Jamie studies the blanket covering his legs. "Most of them didn't need to."

"No?"

"If I could play..."

He shrugs. "...I played."

Another quiet settles between them. She isn't judging him. She's trying to understand him.

Finally, she asks: "Were you ever afraid?"

He laughs softly. "Every game."

That apparently surprises her. "I thought hockey players weren't supposed to admit that."

"We're not."

"Then why tell me?"

He looks out the window. "Because fear isn't the problem."

She waits. "It's deciding whether somebody else is going to pay the price if you don't."

The words hang in the room. Simple. Matter of fact. As though he's explaining the weather.

Annette looks back at the chart. One injury after another. None of them happened because he'd been reckless, most happened blocking shots. Protecting teammates. Playing through pain.

She finally understands what she's really looking at. She quietly closes the chart.

"The broken bones don't bother you much, do they?"

He smiles. "They'll heal."

"The ribs?" "They'll heal."

"The clavicle?" He nods. "It'll heal."

She studies him for another moment. "So, what keeps you awake?"

I don’t answer immediately. My eyes drift toward the window where sunlight reflects off the hospital parking lot. Families come and go. Visitors carrying flowers. Children holding balloons. Life continuing outside these walls.

Finally, I offer. "The people waiting."

Annette says nothing, so I continue quietly. "Missing games..." I shake my head.

"That's disappointing," she agrees. Another pause. "But knowing somebody else has to carry your responsibilities because you can't..."

My voice grows softer. "...that's the part that gets heavy."

The room falls silent again. I’m sure Annette has cared for hundreds of patients. She has treated broken bones. Collapsed lungs. Car accidents. Heart attacks. She has seen people afraid of pain. Afraid of surgery. Afraid of dying.

“I'm not afraid of getting hurt.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

I don't answer right away. “Someone else paying for it.”

Somehow...