Unblocked

Sometime in the night the nerve block that the anesthesiologist gave me officially wore off. I had to wake up every few hours and take some pain meds and deep breaths. When the kids got up for school, they ran into my room as usual and Jiro climbed into bed with me. Satchel stood staring. "Come on," I said.

"I don't want to hurt your leg," he said sweetly.

"It's okay, just be careful," I said.

He mounted the bed and carefully climbed over my head so that he wouldn't risk touching my leg.

We snuggled for a bit and then I sent them to get dressed. I hobbled with my plastic grocery bag filled with medication to my station on the couch and tried to look happy until they left. (I had to disguise my medicine because Jiro likes popping pills almost as much as he likes drinking beer.)

On his way out the door, Satchel kissed me and said, "I missed you when you were in the hospital."

Aw.

Once I heard them drive off, I called the doctor's office to see if I could double up on the medicine.

I could.

By the time Warren got home from dropping off the boys, I was in slightly better shape and beginning my list of complaints. "I need a laptop," I whined as I hobbled my way past the obstacles in the dining room in an effort to check my email for the first time in *gasp* days.

"I'll get the one from the office as soon as the guys get back from the field," he said sympathetically.

When I had finished with my email, I whimpered, "I need to wash my hair."

"Come over here and I'll wash it in the kitchen sink," he said helpfully.

Finally grease-free, I moaned, "I'm hungry."

"Go sit down and I will bring you some lunch," he said soothingly.

"There's nothing on TV," I lamented.

"Pick out a pay-per-view movie," he suggested.

I took some more medicine and selected The Lake House, a lovely film investigating the space/time continuum, starring two of my generation's finest actors, Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock.

"Is it okay if I go work on the roof now?" Warren asked.

When the movie was over, I napped and talked on the phone. I called my friend Blair, who I remembered had a similar injury from soccer a few years ago. She totally empathized with me and made me feel better. When I went to make another email check, I discovered that she sent me a free Netflix subscription! Cool. My friend Dan also sent an email saying he had a spare laptop I could use. Score!

Warren went to get the boys and I went back to the sofa. Dan and his son, Gus, came over to show me how to use the laptop and hang out. "We had a really good time at the bout...until you got hurt," he said. We chatted for as long as Gus could stand playing with "baby toys" and they left just as Warren and the monkeys were pulling up.

Satchel asked, "Is a derby girl bringing dinner tonight?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yay! Which one?"

"Duchess de Meurtas."

"Is she the one who broke your leg?" he asked.

"Well, technically she did not break my leg, but she is the one who blocked me when I was looking the other way and initiated the fall that resulted in me breaking me leg." (I haven't always felt this diplomatic about the situation. Last night, Lizzie McFighter, who was first to come to my side after the accident, laughingly reminded me that my first words to her were, "I can't believe those bitches did this to me!")

The Duchess and Chica Bandita, also of the PrissKilla Prezleys, soon arrived with a huge pan of lasagna, a big bag of salad, a loaf of french bread, and a video of the bout. We made some small talk and then did some reminiscing about the game.

"I've watched the video over and over and over trying to figure out what happened," The Duchess said. "It looks like your skate gets caught on the track and then your toe stop does something weird and that's it."

"Our VCR isn't hooked up, but I'll definitely take a look at it," I said. "The whole bout is kind of a blur."

"It's in the third period, seven minutes and 30 seconds in," she said as she burst out crying.

"Oh my god, stop," I said. "It's okay. I'm going to be okay."

"I feel so bad," she said. "I don't know if I can do this anymore. I'm so sorry."

"Duchess, it's roller derby. I don't blame you at all. I plan on getting back out there and you will too."

She wiped her tears and gave me a big hug and left looking like she had just lost her best friend. It was terrible.

But the lasagna was delicious.