Page 99 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

A month ago, every instruction became a negotiation. Today, he picks up his water and follows me across the gym. His gait is nearly normal now. The bruising has faded. He no longer protects his ribs with every turn, though I still catch him moving carefully when he thinks no one notices.

The shoulder remains the larger challenge. Healing well. Moving slowly. Testing every ounce of patience he owns.

I update his pain score, check the surgical site, and guide him through the opening movements. His range has improved since Monday. Not dramatically, but enough that I notice before I look at the numbers.

“Again,” I say.

Jamie lifts his left arm carefully. His jaw tightens near the top of the motion, but he doesn’t force it. He lowers it under control.

Better. “Once more.”

He repeats the movement. A fraction higher. When he finishes, he looks at me instead of immediately attempting another repetition.

“Enough?”

I check the measurement. “Enough.”

He nods. No argument. No extra attempt when my back turns. No insistence that one more cannot hurt.

I record the improvement. “You gained four degrees.”

He takes a drink of water. “Only four?”

I look up. His expression stays serious for half a second. Then the corner of his mouth moves. He’s teasing.

“That’s almost convincing.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“Clearly.”

He looks toward the notebook waiting beside the window. “Four degrees still goes under today’s win.”

“Yes, it does.”

A month ago, he would have called it nothing. Today, he claims it before disappointment can. That might be the larger victory.

We move to the cable station where the resistance is low enough to protect the repair but sufficient to begin reminding the muscles how to work together. Jamie listens as I demonstrate.

No interrupting. No bargaining. And no attempt to double the repetitions.

I should probably check his temperature.

“What?” he asks.

I realize I’ve been staring. “You’re being unusually cooperative.”

“I’m always cooperative.”

“You tried to leave a hospital room without assistance less than twenty-four hours after surgery.”

“I was highly medicated.”

“You were barely medicated.”

He considers that. “Temporary lapse in judgment.”

“You also carried your breakfast tray down the hall with three fractured ribs.”