It was April 2004. I was out of town playing in a ringette tournament. The tournament was in a town 8-9 hours away and D offered to come with me but I told him to stay home and that I would go with the rest of the team. Ringette is a hockey-like sport played by girls for those who do not know. The stick has no blade and instead of a puck, you use a rubber ring.
My niece was also playing in the same tournament there, she would have been 10 or 11 at the time. My parents and my sister were in the city to watch her play as well.
The weekend is going fine and it is Sunday and I am playing in our final game (I can't remember if it was for a medal or not). I am charging to the net to take a shot when the 2 defencemen cross their sticks in front of me and trip me. I go crashing to the ice with my arms trapped underneath me. I felt immediate pain in my shoulder. As my coach runs out to the ice (the play was stopped because I was not getting up ) I scream at him "DON'T TOUCH ME! I think I dislocated my shoulder" I left the ice and went straight to the dressing room.
One of the moms is a nurse and comes to help me out of my equipment and check the damage. I still don't know how I got out of my jersey and shoulder pads but I am still thinking that my shoulder is dislocated. In the dressing room I feel a complete wave of nausea come over me and the mom tells me I am very pale (she can see something that I can't).
Another mom and her significant other (who just happens to be my dad's boss) say they will drive me to the hospital. Still dressed in half of my equipment, the 2 moms pack my things into my bag and we are off to the hospital. En route, my dad's boss calls him to see if they can meet us at the hospital, which they do.
At the hospital the nurse tells me to take the ice off of my shoulder because she is sure it is not dislocated (she can also see something that I can't). I am in intense pain and I cannot even move my arm an inch. So I get xrays and I am sitting waiting for the doctor. He enters and says "do you want to see your xray?" and leads me down to a little room with my xray on one of those light boards. And what I see makes my knees go numb and vomit rise up through my throat.
It looks a lot like this(only on the opposite side):
What follows is a long trip home, I had originally come on the bus with my teammates but since I am in such intense pain I decide to go home with my parents. Every little bump or turn in the road causes me extreme pain and I just want to get home and get to bed. It takes about 10-11 hours to get home by the time we stop half way to bring my sister and niece to their house, stop to eat, get gas... all the joys of a road trip. It was the worst car ride of my life.
After leaving the hospital I called D.
"Hi"
"Hey! How's it going?"
"Not good"
"Did you lose?"
"I am not even sure, I just got back from the hospital."
"What happened??"
"I broke my collarbone"
"No you didn't"
"I am not kidding"
"Oh my god! What happened?"
You can imagine the rest of the conversation. So D arranged to meet the bus (which had my suitcase and jacket in it) to get my stuff and then he would meet me at home when we got there. After the very long trip we arrived home around midnight and there he was waiting on my parents' porch with a look of concern in his eyes. He helped me out of the van and into the house where he had still more questions.
Over the next couple of weeks while I healed it was unreal how good D took care of me. We still both lived at home with our parents so D would come over in the morning, he would help me bathe, dress and do my hair (he would just throw an elastic in my hair-something that he learned how to do the day after I got home). he drove me everywhere since I couldn't even drive. He even drove my tiny little tin can car around because his Jeep was too bumpy for me to ride in. He drove me to my appointments with the Orthopedic surgeon (thankfully I didn't need surgery) which was 1.5 hours out of town.
In the evenings, in my medicated haze he would sit with me and prop up the couch cushions to make sure I was comfortable. I was no joy to be around and mostly drifted in and out of consiousness but D never left my side. At night he would prop my pillows up in my bed and make sure that I was comfortable, then he would tuck me into bed and would lock the door on his way out. In the morning he would come back and start all over.
On the days that he worked he would stop by in the ambulance to check on me when they had some free time.
It was this time that I figured out a few things about D.
1- That he was the one
2- He would be an amazing father
3- I would never have to worry about anything as long as I was with him.
I eventually started being able to lift my arm and do my own hair and dress myself. D was there for me every step of the way though and didn't even complain once that we couldn't fool around or have sex for about 6 weeks.
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