Thursday Nights

“Dad, I think I want to join the Mountain Bike Team at East.” Those words, uttered by my then just-turned-16-year-old son, were some of the happiest of my life. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “Are you sure you’re sure, because if you say ‘yes’ again, you’re all in?” “Yes.” The influence of a few friends coupled with no pressure from me despite having ridden in some capacity with Mase since he was three brought this to be. “One thing is for sure though,” I told him, “I’m not going to coach.”

Getting Back

I wanted to get up and walk it off, but something told me I wouldn’t be able to do that as I tried to pull my leg back underneath myself. Lying in the dirt, the reality of what was happening was setting in and I was in the worst pain of my life. As these things go, the pain worsened as my adrenaline wore off and not even rounds of Morphine, Fentanyl, or Dilaudid could ease it. Thankfully, round 2 of Ketamine finally did. Being in the “k-hole,” I couldn’t understand what was going on around me, and for a time, even though everyone was speaking to me in a foreign language; at least I wasn’t hurting so badly. That was the case until I had to position myself for the x-rays and nearly passed out from the pain. I learned at that moment that such a thing is possible.