Page 1 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

1

Backsliding

Chris Luczak

“So, when can I play again?”I asked over my shoulder.

Dr. Gupta was manipulating my lower back as I stood in the chilly examination room. His only answer was a chuckle.

He thought I was joking. But returning to hockey was something I thought about every single day. Sure, everyone believed I was retired, but I wasn’t officially. I was only on long-term injury reserve to save the team my cap hit. And it was only January. If I could start training full out today, I could be back before the playoffs. My stomach churned and I swallowed hard.

The doctor stood up and removed his gloves. “You can put your shirt back on.”

As I got dressed, he examined my latest MRI and nodded. “Excellent progress, Chris. Your recovery from the spinal fusion surgery has been quite spectacular.”

“You know, honestly, I feel pretty good. Like I could get back on the ice.”

He laughed heartily. He input notes onto his tablet, before answering. “That’s the ironic part, right? You feel so good that you want to play hockey again. The human mind is a remarkable thing. You have already forgotten the debilitating pain that brought you here.”

I nodded. Hockey meant playing through pain at the best of times, but the agonizing back pain that had affected every moment of my days and sleepless nights was only a shadow now.

Dr. Gupta smiled as if he were giving me good news. “But a return to the hard contact of hockey would mean our work here would be reversed. To maintain your good health, I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay retired. Even if all of Vancouver wishes that Captain Lucky was still leading the team onto the ice. I think the Millionaires have been on a losing streak, correct?”

“Yeah, they have.” But scores were all I knew, so hopefully he didn’t want to talk about the games. Then I’d have to confess I wasn’t even watching them. I rubbed the sore place on my chest.

Luckily, he turned to the subject of rehab and exercise. I had been okayed to cycle and swim, but Dr. Gupta let me know that I wasn’t far from a return to all forms of exercise. Except playing real hockey again.

Dr. Gupta put down the tablet. “Anything else?”

I hesitated. After a long career spent taking elbows to the face and sticks to the ribs, I felt like a total wuss complaining, but there were a bunch of little things bothering me. It was like once my back stopped aching, every other part of my body started to complain.

“Go ahead, Chris,” he urged me. “Many times, these things are related.”

“Well, I’ve been having pain here.” I motioned to a place just below my heart.

He asked me a few more questions, then delivered the verdict. “Just sounds like acid reflux, possibly stress-related. You like natural remedies, right? I would recommend these ginger root capsules.” He opened a drawer and found a sample blister pack. After years of trying to keep my diet and medications clean, now I could have had any kind of medication—even steroids. Just like I ate any kind of food now. Because what I put into my body didn’t matter anymore. But old habits were tough to break.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Uh, I’m also having trouble sleeping. Like I get to sleep okay, then I wake up in the middle of the night and I can’t get back to sleep.”

Dr. Gupta frowned. “And what have you been doing to remedy this?”

Well, sex was one thing that seemed to help, but that probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I don’t know. Avoid caffeine after dinner and stuff like that.”

“You’ve heard about blue screens right? No computers or television after 8:00 pm.”

I nodded. “That’s not a big deal for me. I don’t spend a ton of time on either.”

“Sleep issues are often a sign of deeper problems, Chris. You’ve been through a lot of change in the past year. How long did you play hockey for?”

“Fifteen years in the NHL. But really, ever since I was three.” A memory of the backyard rink in Winnipeg where I learned to skate flashed through my mind.

“So, not playing is a huge transition.” He pulled out a scratch pad and wrote on it. “Dr. Yoshida is a colleague who you could benefit from talking to.”

Ahhhh. “Talking to” meant he wasn’t the kind of doctor who checked you out and made you better. “I’m okay, Doc. I don’t need counselling or anything.”

“Talking to a therapist is something that most of us need to do at some point in our lives. There is no stigma attached.”

But honestly, I’d had teammates who were depressed, and I didn’t think that was my issue. Trouble was, I had no clue what my issue was. All I wanted was something more in my life—but I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted more of.

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