Page 76 of Dreams
“Well,” she said. “It most certainly was not fatigue. How often have you experienced these episodes?”
“They were rare at first, but more frequent lately.”
She nodded and made a note before turning to the two coaches, who still stood in silent shock. “Why don’t you go get some coffee? I need to speak with my patient.”
When they were gone, she shut the door and then wheeled a stool towards him. She sat down, crossed her legs, and set the clipboard on the table nearby.
“I’m going to be frank with you.” She leaned forward, her eyes softening. “You’ve been very lucky thus far. Playing hockey with your condition is very dangerous. Young players have died trying.”
That shook him. “Just tell me what’s wrong with me.”
“You have something called ventricular tachycardia.” She shifted in her seat before continuing. “I’ll explain it the best I can. The bottom chambers of your heart are called the ventricles. They fill will blood that is then pumped to the rest of the body. When the electrical impulses that control your heartbeat are disrupted, causing it to speed up, the ventricles don’t have enough time to fill with blood.”
“So, the rest of my body doesn’t get enough blood?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
“How long until I can get this fixed and get back to the game?” he asked. “I’d hate to miss the playoffs.”
“Josh,” she said before pausing for a long, drawn out moment. “There isn’t some magical cure for this. You can’t play.”
“What?” he sputtered. “But…” He stopped, unsure what he could say to convince her. He had to play. He just had to.
“What I’ve just told you only explains the episodes. It’s most likely caused by an underlying heart condition. From your tests, my money is on hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, but I need to do some more tests.”
He didn’t even ask what that condition was. His brain was too overloaded to take in anything else. But, she didn’t stop. She had to twist the dagger one more time.
“If you step onto that ice again, you could die.”
Words clogged in the back of his throat as they sat in silence for a moment longer.
“I want to keep you until morning for observation,” she said quietly. “We’ll get you out of the emergency room and up onto a different floor soon.”
With one more pat on his shoulder, she stood, flattening the crease in her lab coat with the palms of her hands. “Would you like me to get someone from the waiting room for you?”
“No,” he said, leaning back. “I just… can’t.”
She nodded in understanding before leaving him to the silence of his thoughts. Through all the big words she’d thrown out, the only ones he truly heard were “You can’t play.”
Was this how his dream ended? Sitting in a hospital gown by himself after lying to everyone for months, without even his girl by his side?
