JT and I got in a huge fight. It lasted two days. It was the usual "man doesn't feel respected, woman doesn't feel loved" scenario, but it was very personal and we were both very hurt from it.
Tonight, I agreed to go to his soccer game to support him. My friend came along with me. It was a close game, a bunch of little, fast Hispanic men against JT's team, which consists of 30s and 40s men who were once soccer greats.
With about six minutes left in the game, JT is playing defense and goes to block a shot. Next thing I know, he crumples to the ground, holding his ankle and rolling on the ground in pain. Earlier I had noticed he didn't wear his ankle brace, which isn't exactly smart because he's had three surgeries on it. That didn't matter. It was his other ankle, his right.
I froze. Then I heard this little cry come out of his mouth and I snapped. I ran to the concession to get him ice. I snapped at the poor worker to hurry! hurry! hurry! By the time I ran around to the benches, they were carrying him off and his face twisted in discomfort totally broke my heart. I put the ice on it and sat with him. My heart was pounding. He told me he wasn't sure how bad it was.
The game ended and he tried to walk, but physically couldn't, and was carried to the car, refusing to take off his shoe so it couldn't get any more swollen. He said he just wanted to go home even though the second the doors were closed he started moaning and shifting around to find a comfortable spot. "It really hurts," he said. Every bump I hit, he would cry out in pain and grab his ankle. Don't get me wrong. JT is NOT a pansy by any means.
We got ice on it immediately and put it up on a chair, but he had his arm covering his face and he kept rolling over to try to ease his pain. I could tell he didn't want me to touch him, so I just kept myself busy getting him food so he could take pain pills and helping him change his shirt.
"It's never hurt this long before," he said, and so we went to the ER. It was torture waiting for him to come out. From my experience, I knew that all of their X-raying, interfering hands were causing him pain, and I just wished there was something I could do.
It turns out he tore multiple ligaments, chipped a bone, and has some hairline fractures. He's so frustrated. He's going to have to miss the rest of his soccer season, be setback on his running, and will have to wear another brace when he does anything. He's an old man and doesn't heal as well as he used to, but I am determined to help him.
We came back to his house and got him a nice little setup with pillows and ice, 24 Season 3 on DVD and some Loritabs compliments of the ER. On my Walgreen's run, I bought him Kashi and those Brownie Delights you make in the microwave. It was so hard leaving him, but I know his roommate will take care of him and call me if anything bad happens.
Still, my heart feels so heavy. I ache for him and his frustration and I'm empathetic, so I feel his pain not physically, but emotionally. But tonight, in some small way, was kind of fulfilling. I love taking care of him and serving him. It makes me more attracted to him in some odd way. It's a wonderful feeling! Anyway, keep him in your thoughts and prayers because he's hurting and frustrated.