Page 33 of The Forever Vault

“Love you more.” I hung up.

“He sounds good despite the circumstances,” she said.

I nodded, but noticed I had texts from Shane.

Shane: He’s lying. It’s not nothing.

Shane: He can’t lift his left arm. I think he tore something.

I felt the hairs on my neck stand up and a pit formed in my stomach. Fuck.

“Shane thinks it’s bad.”

Erika stood up. “Well, let’s get going.”

I went to clear the plates and grab my glass. “Leave it. It’ll be here when I get back or I’ll make my mom get it later.”

7

Lucas

Shane’s hand hadn’t left my shoulder since he carried me off the mat. I was so thankful for him. He helped break my fall too. He was the best coach and an even better friend.

It had all happened so fast. Looking back, it felt like my body just stopped working. The bolt of pain that traveled across my chest seized my entire body up so quickly that I let go of both rings and just dropped. It didn’t matter that I was eight feet off the ground. I didn’t even think about that. All I could do was clutch uselessly at my chest with my right hand.

On the phone, I put on a front for Cam that he probably saw through, but I was fairly confident I was not competing in the Olympics this time. And more than likely, any future ones.

If Cam and I were specialists, we could've made one more, maybe two. Maybe more? After all, there was a thirty-nine-year-old gymnast from Bulgaria competing in the rings in what would be his sixth Olympics. But we were all-arounders, and that took more of a toll on the body.

Case in point.

Woodward was here too, pacing back and forth in front of us. He had been on the phone with someone earlier. Shane was sitting with me on the examination table, helping me hold an ice pack to my chest. The pain was still there, but not searing like it was at first. I could already see bruising peeking out from behind the pack. I think Cassandra had stayed behind to finish training with the team.

There was a knock at the door. I looked up, hopeful it was Cam, as Woodward opened the door.

“Hello there. Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s been a busy day. Let’s take a look at your chest.”

After struggling through several failed attempts, it was obvious I couldn’t pull my training tank over my head. The doctor offered to cut it off, but with Shane’s help I pulled it off my right side first, and then slowly down my left arm.

What a promising start.

Now that I was bare-chested, I attempted to show the doctor my range of motion. Or lack thereof. He asked when it was painful. The answer was yes, ninety percent of the time. After just a few minutes, he had already made his decision.

“Obviously, Mr. Rivera, we can’t tell exactly what’s wrong without some tests, but as you and your coaches may have guessed, I believe you’ve torn a pectoral muscle. It seems like it’s the major, based on the bruising and the sensitivity, but we’ll know more once we get an MRI and an ultrasound done. I’m ordering an x-ray too, just to rule out fractures and dislocations.”

Woodward nodded, but stayed quiet. Shane’s hand was trying to comfort me, slowly rubbing my back.

“If you had to rate the worst pain you’ve experienced in the last few minutes with one as nothing and ten as horrible, what number would you give it?”

I thought a bit before answering. “It’s around a six, with moments of eight.”

“I’ll get a prescription for pain meds going, but I know I don’t have to tell an athlete the dangers of prescription drug addiction. I don’t give them out lightly, but an eight is past my threshold and I don’t want you suffering. Only take it if you need it. And never more frequently than the instructions say. Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head.

“A nurse will come get you in a few minutes, and they’ll take you upstairs to Diagnostics. I’ll meet you in Radiology.”

I didn’t have to wait long. The x-ray results were instantaneous - digital tech - and the doctor said they were clear. Normally, he explained, the results wouldn’t be delivered as quickly, but since I was an Olympian, he knew we’d need to know today. The ultrasound was inconclusive, but after the MRI results, which would take one to two days, it was possible he’d try ultrasound again. What happened at the next visit would determine if I needed surgery or not, though the doctor seemed to indicate it was likely.