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'Career ending injury.' God, don't they have anything else to talk about? Every channel I flip to is analyzing my injury. No one wants to give me a chance to come back. None of the medical experts on TV give any sort of hope. I switch the TV off.
My worst nightmare has come to life. What if I never recover after surgery? What if the franchise releases me and ends my contract because I am no longer fit enough to play? I am not ready to give up my career. It has taken a lot of struggle, hard work and grit to earn my place in the big league.
At this competitive level, every step, every day, every chance and each play matters. You can't slip up because the moment you do, a guy right behind will climb over and take your place in an instant, thrusting your face into the dirt pit.
My struggle started in my first year of college when my life went for a spin. I have always been a fighter and never give up. Fate had turned against me. With my family on the verge of breaking down, I stepped up my game. I trained harder, increased my focus—creating plays in my mind, watching videos of the games. All the while working at night to support my family. I could not give up on them.
My hard work paid off at the Regional Starting Combines, leading to the National Combine and then the drafts. Among the hundreds of hopefuls, I was one of the lucky few who got through helped by my performance, field drills, and interviews. The Tornado's picked me in the first round of the draft. A career start with the Tornados was a dream come true. After two years in training and preseason games, I made the cut to the roster. From then on, there was no turning back. Until tonight.
The memory of the helmets crashing makes the pain sear. I steel myself. The pain will not break me. One injury will not cut me out. I will get back on the field, no matter what it takes.
First comes the surgery. The waiting game is difficult. My doubts increase by the hour. What if she refuses after seeing the injury? We would lose crucial time. I am not a medical expert, but wasn't every minute important in medicine? What if this was beyond her ability? What if she couldn't fix my leg? Would I ever be able to play again? The fears rage in my mind, but I have to fight them off before they overwhelm me.
"She is on her way." Mom walks in with Stephen, breaking my chain of thoughts.
"What did she say?" I try to hide the grimace. The pain is considerable despite all the medications being pumped into me. The bandages are tightening. Maybe, the swelling is increasing. I curse my luck.
"Hm, she sounded sassy." Stephen is worked up after the call.
"I would be miffed if someone dragged me out of my vacation in Florida." Typical of Mom, always considerate.
"I don't mind her sassiness as long as she can get me back on my feet, running. Do you think she can fix my leg?"
"Not sure Jon, but I sure hope she is worth all this trouble." Stephen, the perennial doubter. Can't he sound a little optimistic, even for a moment?
"Trust me, she will. If you want Jon playing again, there is no one else who can do it. She has an impressive record with complicated injuries like yours. Have faith in her." Dr. Thomas walks in on our conversation.
"Well then, we wait. Do you mind if I run a few reference checks?" Stephen is persistent; that's why I keep him close.
"Be my guest. While you are at it, Google We-TO repair." Dr. Thomas spells it out not hiding his frown. He shrugs his shoulders. "Meanwhile, I have orders to follow and get you ready for the surgery, Mr. Hayes."
I nod. Do I have a choice? He starts the examination and orders countless tests. The nursing staff is efficient. When he opens the wound, the injury is quite bad. The sight raises doubts in my mind. How will anyone fix this mess? I close my eyes, the stadiums, the crowds, and the ball all seem walking away from me. My chances of playing again are next to impossible.
For me, putting the leg back together is not sufficient. I need someone to make sure I recover from the injury and play again. Determination and hard work got me this far, but they were in my hands. With a broken leg, I am at the mercy of others.
Thank god, Jason knows me so well and insisted on finding the right doctor. When they spoke to this center, we hit a blip. Thanks to my football fame, Dr. Richard obliged. The team management agreed to send their private jet to fetch her. Every minute of the wait for her to arrive is a pain. "What do you think, Doc?"
Dr. Thomas pauses his examination before continuing his task. He takes pictures of the wound from his phone. Then he places a probe, attached to what is some sort of scanning machine, on my leg.
"The injury justifies your worry but as Sharon always says, let us take it one step at a time. Our first task is to put this together." Dr. Thomas points to my leg and walks out.
Amidst all the preparations, Dr. Richard comes over to check on me. He brings good news. "She is about to land. We should be able to start soon."