Even though it’s the middle of summer, I’m going to relay yet another story of why hockey players are tougher than any other athletes when it comes to pain tolerance. A buddy/ex-coworker of mine plays in a hockey league down here and this past weekend he suffered a rather gruesome injury while playing. Rather than try to rehash the story, I’ll include snippets of the email conversation he had (with his permission).
[Him]
I took a skate to my forearm Saturday night and had to get 4 staples in my arm. I’m a mess, dude.
[Me]
Holy shit. Hope you get better soon. What happened?
[Him]
Yeah, I’m just taking it super easy right now, not moving the arm too much until I know it’s started to heal up. It’s fucking disgusting, dude. I had to assist in the surgery since they were short-staffed. Holding the forceps while the doctor tied up the artery. Fucked up. I was cut wide open though. Hurts like a sonfabitch.
[Me]
WHAT?! What hospital were you at? Holy shit. I would have passed out.
[Him]
I was at Northside. The doctor has already numbed my entire arm (3-4 shots that hurt like a motherfucker) so it wasn’t bad pain, but still, yeah it was gross. She was like “I need a nurse but don’t want to leave you, can you hold this (forceps clamping the artery shut) while I tie off the artery?”
“Um, sure.” (shaking, almost puking, grabs the instrument)
“Thanks, okay, now hold this one…” (ties off vein, blood soaking the bed) “Good, that was easy.
Yeah honey, sure it was.
[Me]
I’m in complete shock. You win Story of the Week. Hands down.
[Him] (bragging tongue in cheek, but totally able to back it up)
There are men.
There are hockey players.
Then there are hockey players who assist in their own surgery when they get cut in a game.
Balls.
(heh heh)
[Me]
And did you drive to the hospital and back too? JFC. I’m such a pusscatore. I would have passed out. If I recall, I puked in the locker room after I broke my leg in a hockey game back during winter break in college.
[Him]
The EMT guys (fire department) that showed up at the rink offered to call an ambulance but when we got the bleeding to slow down I told them I could make it. Dude, I spilled out ½ a pint at the MIC, drove myself to the ER, spilled another 1.2 pint, got sutured and stapled, and drove home. Hell, I even stopped at the gas station to buy beer before I got to the ER since it was Saturday night and I figured I’d get fucked out of drinking being in the ER all night. I am all that is man.
NOTE TO OUR GOVERNOR – Your insipid law about not being able to buy beer on Sundays has a bigger effect than you could possibly imagine in your little puritanical world.
[Me]
On the bright side, I guess it’s good you’re still able to type and don’t have to use some sort of software that recognizes how hard you blow into a tube.
[Him]
Dude, you have no idea how lucky I am to be cut where I got cut. And I wear wrist guards too, it was a total fluke. Thanking the gods for the major injury to be in a minor spot.