Chapter 30: Wish You Were Here

Sarnia St. Pat’s Gymnasium

12:25pm, Saturday, February 24, 1979

Medway and Sarnia Northern split the first two games of their semi-final match. Medway won the first game, 15-13, and lost the second, 15-12. In the third and deciding game, Medway was leading 12-9, and the Cowboys (girls) were playing the best they had played all season. With them on the verge of upsetting the top-ranked team in the province, lady luck cruelly pulled the ‘awesomeness rug‘ out from under their feet.

After Lynette served a nasty, dancing ‘floater’ serve, she ran to her front right defensive position, behind the front row blockers. When a Northern girl spiked the ball off the hands of a Medway blocker, the ball floated high towards the scorer’s table. Lynette immediately reacted and sprinted in that direction.

Lynette dove for the ball and was able to get her right hand on it as it was about to hit the table. Another teammate was able to set that ball up for a kill, and the Cowboys had their 13^rd point in the game.

Unfortunately, Lynette’s screaming cry of pain took all the luster off of that hard won point. After she dove and returned that errant ball, Lynette’s right shoulder and neck were forcefully jammed up against the front leg of the scorer’s table. Once the coaches and the event’s athletic trainer had her sitting up, it became readily apparent that Lynette’s season was suddenly over, soon to be followed by our volleyball team’s season.

From my vantage point, three rows up in the bleachers, I could tell that my girlfriend’s right collar bone was probably broken and that her shoulder might even have been dislocated. When Lynette’s mom and dad were summoned from the bleachers, I heard Coach Jacket say to them, “You really need to take her to the ER, and get her shoulder checked out. The AT (athletic trainer) is pretty sure she has a broken clavicle.”

I jumped down from the bleachers as Lynette’s dad helped her get up and walked towards the team’s locker room. The large crowd gave her an ovation, but she was hurting too much physically and mentally to really respond to their show of appreciation for her outstanding play. As Mr. and Mrs. Robertson and I got her to the locker room door, Lynette stopped and said she wanted to watch the final few points of the match.

Coach Jacket had a difficult decision to make on who would replace Lynette as the team’s setter. MaryAnn Ryan was still hobbled by her high ankle sprain and Lynette’s current backup was another tenth grader, Deb Waites, who seldom played in such high profile matches. When we saw Deb enter the game, we realized Coach Jacket wasn’t about to put a player’s health above winning a contest.

With Deb in the game, Medway’s attack became very ‘vanilla’ and Sarnia Northern took full advantage of this change in the game dynamics. The Vikings made a strong comeback, and ran off six straight points to win the third game, 15-13, to claim this well played semi-final match, two games to one.

At the conclusion of the game, Sarnia Northern’s coach walked over to Lynette as she stood waiting for the rest of the girls to enter the locker. The tall, athletic lady said, “I’m real sorry about your injury, Lynette. I doubt we would have won that match if you were still in there running your full offense. I just wanted to let you know that I thought you were the best player out on the court, today.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Lynette replied with a forced smile on her face. “I’m not so sure I was the best player out there, but I appreciate your words.” Lynette then stuck out her left hand and gave the coach a little opposite hand-shake and said, “Good luck in the finals, tonight and, uh, at the Ontario championships, next weekend.”

“Thanks, and all the best with your shoulder,” the Northern coach said. She then turned to Lynette’s parents and said, “Your girl’s a tough nugget. She played really well. You should be very proud of her.”

“We are,” Mrs. Robertson replied. “I’m sure we’ll have to reign in this tough nugget until her shoulder heals.”

“I’m not sure if your coach told you this or not,” the Northern coach added, “but our trainer has already contacted Dr. Rod Daymond at Sarnia General. He’s the best orthopedic doctor in the area, and he’s expecting your daughter within the hour at General. If you’d rather wait, and take Lynette to a doctor in London, I’ll have Sandra, our trainer, call and let him know of your decision.”

“Uh, can we get with you on that, in say five minutes?” Mrs. Robertson replied to the coach.

“Definitely,” she answered. “I’ll be out here ‘till you get with me.”

“Thanks for that information, and for setting up that doctor’s appointment for us. And, uh, good luck tonight, Coach,” Lynette’s dad added as the Northern coach turned to rejoin her team as they celebrated their hard fought victory.

It was at this point that Lynette turned to me for the first time, and I could see the anguish on her face and the tears start to well-up in her eyes. As soon as I stepped up beside her and wrapped my arms around her, Lynette put her head on my shoulder and started to squall on my shoulder.

“It will be okay, Baby,” I said, trying to soothe her troubled spirit. “You were better on the court today, than you were against Strathroy last Saturday, so you’ve got nothing to be upset or ashamed of.”

“But wa-we lost because of me ... be-because of my injury,” she sobbed.

“That was a freak accident,” I replied and put my left hand under her chin to get her to look at me. “You, Lynette, got hurt making an amazing play. No one could have predicted or knew you’d jam your shoulder against the leg of that table.”

“I doubt your team would have been in the game, Baby, if you didn’t make the plays you did out on the court,” Lynette’s dad added to my comments.

“Ba-but we were just two bloody points from beating the best team in the province, and I just had to dive for that stupid ball. Why didn’t I just concede that play in order to stay healthy, and alive to play the remainder of the game?”

“Because conceding anything isn’t a part of you,” I replied to my sullen girlfriend. “You’re a crazy, psycho player, just like me when we’re in a game. You, and me, Lynette, we don’t know how to play it safe or give less than one-hundred and ten percent effort. That, my little Volcano is one of the main reasons I’m super attracted to you.”

Lynette cringed slightly at first. Then she slowly broke into her first genuine smile since being injured at my mention of her new nickname. I’m guessing her mom and dad didn’t know about that nickname, and Lynette initially wasn’t too sure about telling them about it.

Mr. Robertson picked up on the sudden change in his daughter’s demeanor and vaguely asked, “What’s going on, Baby?” After Lynette shyly looked away from her dad, he quickly turned and looked at me square in the eye and added, “Mike?”

“Uh, Lynette’s smiling over the new nickname, ‘Volcano’ or just Cano, which I gave her after we started going out. She, uh ... as you probably know, can be a pretty explosive girl when something gets under her skin or gets her going. So, after seeing a few of those outbursts this past week, I started calling her, Little Volcano or Cano.”

Mr. Robertson nodded and seemed to be okay with my explanation of Lynette’s new nickname, and the reason for her sudden improved disposition. When I peered at Mrs. Robertson, she had an even bigger grin on her face than Lynette had after hearing that nickname. As Mr. Robertson bent down to give his daughter a hug prior to her going into the locker room, Mrs. Robertson simply shook her head at me before she gave me a small wink and mouthed, ‘Good save, Mike, good save.‘

I hoped my blush wasn’t too major after seeing Lynette’s mom’s sly reaction, and realizing that she knew the real reason for her daughter’s new nickname.

“Don’t worry about changing out of your uniform, Baby,” Lynette’s dad said to her as he stepped back from his injured daughter. “Your mom and I will decide whether to take you to Sarnia General, or wait to take you to see someone at UWO in London. Come on, Dillon.”

“I’ll be in to help you in a minute, Baby, if you need me,” her mom said as she moved with her husband over to the end wall.

“I’ll be okay, Momma,” Lynette replied as she moved from my gentle hug and took a step towards the locker room door. As she put her left hand on the door to push it open, she paused for a second and then turned back towards me. “I’m sorry, Mike,” she softly said as she stepped back to me. “I’m glad you’re here and I really appreciated your words of support, there.”

I bent over slightly and took her soft kiss on my lips before she pulled back. “No worries, Cano,” I replied to her as she looked at me with her tear-filled eyes. “You’ve had a rough go these last few minutes. I’ll be out here waiting on you.”

“Do, uh, you guys care if we stop at Sarnia General Hospital to hear what Lynette’s doctor says about her shoulder?” I asked Paul, Cathy and Samantha after learning that her parents were going to take her there before heading back to London.

“Heck no, I want to go see how she’s doing,” Sammy quickly replied and both of my neighbors nodded their agreement with Sammy’s statement.

“Will it be okay having your dad’s limo out at something besides the game?” Cathy asked as we hung around the locker room door with Lynette’s and a few other girls’ parents and friends.

“You’re in a limo?” Mrs. Robertson asked after hearing Cathy’s question.

“My dad figured it would be better, safer, if we came down here in his chauffeured car,” Sam replied to Mrs. Robertson’s question. “And, my dad won’t think twice about us stopping by the hospital to check on a friend.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” I replied.

About twenty seconds later, a still sweaty Lynette came out of the locker room wearing a pair of red fleece sweat pants, with her blue Columbia jacket across her left arm. She still had her volleyball uniform top on as her injured arm was ‘Ace’ bandaged tightly to her side and her stomach. When she saw all of us standing there with her parents, Lynette said, “You guys didn’t have to wait around on me.”

“You’re right. We didn’t HAVE to wait. We wanted to wait and see how you’re doing,” Cathy replied as she walked over to our injured comrade and gave her a very gentle hug.

“Thanks for waiting, then,” Lynette said as a small smile crept over her glum face. “Are we going to the hospital here or back in London?” she then asked her parents.

“We’ll see the Ortho doctor here in Sarnia because there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to see a good one at the ER at either University or St. Joe’s in London,” Mr. Robertson replied to his daughter. “At least we know this guy is highly recommended, and he’s also expecting you.”

“That’s good because I’m really starting to feel it. I don’t think I could make it back to London without some type of good pain medicine.”

“I’m sure they’ll take good care of you,” Sammy said as she patted the back of Lynette’s uninjured shoulder. “We’ll see you over at the hospital, Lynette.”

“You REALLY don’t have to come to the hospital,” Lynette interjected.

“Again, you’re right, Cano,” I replied with a smile. “But, we’ve already decided to go there, and find out what the verdict is with your shoulder and collar bone.”

“Are all of you okay with that?” Lynette asked as she looked at Paul and Cathy.

“Hey, I get to hang around with Sam all day, and ride in a limo ... so I ain’t complaining,” Paul replied as he pulled Sammy in a little tighter to his torso.

“Why wouldn’t we want to know how our keyboard player is doing?” Cathy added.

“I appreciate that...”

“She means ‘we’,” Lynette’s mom interrupted her daughter’s statement and then added. “We appreciate that you kids are going to hang around to hear what the doctor says about her shoulder.”

“Yes, Mom,” Lynette said with a smile. “WE really appreciate you guys hanging around on a Saturday afternoon. Thanks.”

“Would you like for us to pick you up something to eat?” Sammy asked Lynette and her parents as we started to walk across the gym to the exit. “I’m going to get Jason, our driver, to stop somewhere. So, I’d be happy to grab you a burger or chicken sandwich and some fries.”

“Thank you, Sammy, but I think we’ll stop somewhere ourselves,” Lynette’s dad replied.

“Uh, Lynette, probably shouldn’t eat or drink anything other than water until the Doc looks at her,” I offered up to her and her parents. “You never know if they’ll need to do a procedure or something, and if you eat something, that might cause a delay.”

“Good point, Mike,” Mrs. Robertson said with a small look of concern on her face. “How did you come to know about not eating prior to a possible medical procedure?”

I smiled at Lynette’s mom as I came up with an easy answer to her inquiry. “My mom is a nurse, so I’ve picked up on a few things like that. Also, I remembered that my brother, John, had to reschedule a surgery on his knee because he ate something for breakfast ... the morning of his surgery.”

“I sure hope they don’t have to do anything to me,” Lynette said as a look of dread spread across her face. “I don’t want them to cut on me!”

“I doubt they’ll have to do any surgery, Cano,” I replied. “Hopefully, it is just your collar bone that is injured, and not your shoulder joint.”

“Yeah, I tore my rotator cuff, like two and half years ago, and it wasn’t a fun surgery or recovery thing,” Sammy replied as she moved her left arm in a few big circles.

“You’re moving it well, though,” Mr. Robertson said as we reached the door to the side parking lot.

“Yes, Sir,” Sammy answered Lynette’s dad. “Dr. Kennedy performed that surgery. He’s the best Sports Medicine surgeon in Ontario. Then I went to physical therapy three or four times per week at UWO’s Sports Injuries Clinic.”

“If surgery is needed on her shoulder, that is who I’d want to do it,” I added. “Dr. Kennedy does all of UWO’s athletes’ surgeries, and a good number of pro athletes come to him, as well.”

“Enough surgery talk!” Lynette shouted as we all walked with the Robertson family to their car. “Everything is going to be fine with my shoulder and collar bone, okay?”

“That’s the spirit, Girlfriend,” Cathy said as Lynette’s dad opened the rear door of their full sized Volvo.

“We’ll see you at the hospital in a few, Lynette,” I said as I helped her duck into the back seat of the car.

“Does your driver need directions to the hospital?” Mr. Robertson asked Samantha as he walked around to the driver’s door.

“I think Jason knows or can easily find out where Sarnia General is. We’ll see you over there, shortly.”

“Mom, can Mike come back there with us, please?” Lynette asked her mom as she got up to go back to the exam room.

“It’s for family only, Baby,” Mrs. Robertson said and gave me a sad smile.

“But Mom, he’s like family, isn’t he?”

“I’ll see about him coming back,” Mr. Robertson said as his wife led Lynette from the waiting area at Sarnia General Hospital.

“It’s okay,” I replied to Lynette’s dad. He, however, waved his hand at me to be quiet as he went to the nurse’s station. During their fifteen second conversation, I thought, ‘It certainly would be nice to be back there with Lynette, and see what the doctor does and says about her injury.‘

What appeared to be a complete flame out, suddenly changed directions as the Charge Nurse’s expression changed from Nurse Ratchet (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest) to Nurse ‘Ripples’ Brancusi (Trapper John, M.D.), and waved me up to the counter.

As I made my way beside Mr. Robertson, I heard this nurse softly say, “We normally don’t allow non-family members back in the examine rooms, but I guess we can allow it this time.” When I reached the counter, the older nurse smiled at me and added, “You two can walk through those doors, and she is in room 107, on the left.”

“Thanks, Ma’am. I really appreciate you letting me go back there,” I replied. As I followed Lynette’s dad, I thought, ‘Was that a result of my limited mind-control powers at work there? That nurse definitely wasn’t going to allow me head back there until I thought about it.‘

“Mr. Robertson?” a well-dressed young lady inquired of Lynette’s dad as we approached room 107.

“I’m Mr. Robertson, what can I do for you?”

“I’m Ms. Sotheby, and I’m the financial liaison with the hospital. Your wife said you had your daughter’s OHIP card, which I’ll need to make a copy of, along with your driver’s license, please.”

“Oh, sure. Mike, why don’t you go onto the room, and I’ll be there as soon as I get this handled.”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied and walked by two more rooms before I came to room 107. Before I entered, I heard Ms. Sotheby say, “Your daughter was hurt in a high school activity, yes? Your insurance will only be used to cover the portion that her high school insurance doesn’t cover. You shouldn’t be charged much, if anything, out of pocket for this.”

“That is good to know.”

“I already have your daughter’s high school insurance information, as Sandy Boyd, the athletic trainer at that volleyball tournament called it in when she made us aware of your upcoming visit.”

I knocked on the door and heard Mrs. Robertson say, “Come in.”

As I stepped into the ER room, I saw that a nurse was trying to lift Lynette’s volley jersey over her injured arm. However, she wasn’t having much luck as Lynette wasn’t able to lift her arm much above parallel with her shoulders.

When the nurse stopped to access the situation, she turned to me and Lynette’s mother, and said, “I’m going to have to cut her jersey off, so we can take an x-ray or two of her shoulder as well as let Dr. Daymond take a good look at it.” Looking at me, she added, “Would you please step out into the hallway, young man.”

“He can stay,” Lynette quickly fired off, and then softly added, “Sorry, Ms. Janet. Can he please stay in here?” She then turned to her mother and deadpanned, “It’s not like he hasn’t seen me, or anything.”

“He can stay if that is alright with you, Janet?” Lynette’s mother said to the pretty, blonde nurse.

“It’s alright with me,” Nurse Janet said as she moved to the ER counter and pulled a ‘clothes-shark’ from the top drawer. That little device made short work of Lynette’s scarlet and white Medway volleyball jersey. After working that top off her good arm, and then her injured shoulder, Lynette was sitting on the exam bench in her white sports-bra and red warm-up pants.

“Let’s slip this hospital gown over your left arm and then drape it across your body for the time being, Sweetie,” the ER nurse said. With only her right shoulder exposed, Nurse Janet looked at Lynette’s mother and said, “You’re not going to like this, but I think I’ll have to cut that strap over her right shoulder to have a clear, unobstructed access to the area.”

“Do what you need, Janet,” Lynette’s mother replied as she alternated her gaze between her daughter and me. I just raised my right eye-brow when both adults in the room eyed me.

As Ms. Janet ‘sharked’ Lynette’s right bra-strap at her shoulder, she added, “Good thing your sports-bra is stretchy tight, young lady. It should stay in place and keep you covered during the x-rays, and Dr. Daymond’s examination.”

“Ha, this old bra was getting a little too tight and was on its last legs, so you’re actually doing me a favor, isn’t she mom?”

“I was hoping she get through the end of the school year before I had to buy her a couple new bras ... but c’est la vie,” Mrs. Robertson chuckled.

“Okay, Lynette, Dr. Daymond will be in to see you in a jiff. We got the page from his office and his message said that he’ll be here in about...” Nurse Janet took a quick peek at her watch and said, “three to five minutes. Sit tight, you’re in good hands with Dr. D.”

“Thanks, Janet,” both Lynette and her mom said in unison.

As Nurse Janet left the room, Mr. Robertson walked in and took a look at his daughter and me as I sat down beside her on the examine bed and held her tight to my side. “Lynette, you don’t have a bra on, and Mike is in here with you with just that flimsy hospital gown covering you?”

“Relax, Gary,” Lynette’s mother said to her husband. “She has her sports-bra still on underneath that gown. The nurse just had to cut the right bra strap to provide access to her shoulder area.”

“Sheesh, Daddy,” Lynette fired off at her dad. “Like I said to the nurse, it’s...”

I was very happy when Lynette saw her mother’s wide-eyed reaction, and stopped her statement before she provided more information than her dad really needed to know.

I was still a little worried when Mr. Robertson asked, “It’s what, Baby?”

Even though it was her injured arm resting on my thigh, I felt Lynette’s right hand squeeze my leg before she said, “Well, it’s not like Mike hasn’t seen a teenage girl in a bra before. Come on, every teenage guy has looked at the pictures in a Sears’ catalog or the Zellers’ flier.”

When a smile crept over Mr. Robertson’s face, the tension in my neck decreased slowly and I even had to stifle a chuckle when I saw Lynette’s mom mouth, ‘You guys are good,’ from just behind her husband’s back.

After the initial doctor’s exam and a series of three x-rays, Dr. Daymond said during his final evaluation, “All in all, you came through that pretty well, Lynette. You only have a minor, non-displaced fracture of your clavicle and the rest of your shoulder is still structurally sound. The only thing we can do is to help you manage your pain and keep your ‘wing’ immobilized in a sling until your pain level is tolerable. You’re not allergic to any medicines, so I’ll give you a four-day supply of Percocet, and then you can use Tylenol or Ibuprofen, when needed.”

“How long will she be in the sling?” Lynette’s mom asked.

“That depends on her pain levels. When she can tolerate letting her arm hang down and swing freely, then toss the sling. The time varies from person to person. I think if she keeps her arm in it at least until Thursday, then she can play it by ear on how much she uses it, afterward.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to play the piano or keyboards before then?” Lynette asked as she looked at me. I could tell she was probably thinking about her duties with the choir, and practicing with our band.

“Again, that’s going to depend on your pain tolerance. If using your arm hurts, don’t do it. If it doesn’t, go easy with things for a short while. As long as you don’t fall or jam your shoulder, you really aren’t going to do additional damage to your collar bone. It’s simply a pain tolerance issue for the most part,” Dr. Daymond said with a smile. He then looked at me and added, “Only gentle hugs, squeezes and ‘what-nots’ with this young lady, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied with a smile. “I’ll also make sure she doesn’t overdo it with the keyboard, piano playing when we’re practicing.”

“Are you guys in a band?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” we both replied in concert. Lynette then continued with, “We started a little rock band, and our first gig is in early April at a local high school.”

“Are you any good?” the good doctor asked with a smile.

“I don’t think I’m bragging, but yeah, we’re good,” Lynette replied. “We were put on the spot a couple weeks ago and played, like six songs?” she asked at me, which I nodded ‘yes’. “We did that without much practice. I think we destroyed it and had a girl from a different school come over to us, and ask us to play at her high school’s next dance.”

“Sounds like you are pretty good, seeing how you got a job request at your first little performance. Tell you what, if you can send me a tape with three or four of your songs, I may have another dance gig for you. In case you didn’t know it, the team you played today, Northern, is coached by my wife, Tracey.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Lynette replied. All of us in the ER room were fairly surprised to learn that Dr. Daymond was married to the tall, athletic volleyball coach.

“It’s true,” the good doctor said and then added, “And she is also the school’s social committee faculty sponsor. That committee has had a hard time finding a good band for their Junior-Senior Prom in late April. So, if you’re as good as you say you are, you might have found yourself another gig.”

“That’s great, Dr. Daymond,” I enthusiastically replied. “We’ll record a few songs at our next practice and get that sent to you, ASAP.”

“If you can send it to my wife at her Northern address, that would be best, I think.”

“We will,” Lynette and I both replied, and I added, “Thanks for all your help today, both with her shoulder, and now with this prom opportunity.”

“I don’t think your wife or the students will be disappointed,” Lynette added with a smile.

“I’ll tell Tracey to expect a package from you, either later this week or next. Is that doable?” Dr. Daymond asked.

“When she’s able to play her keyboards, again, we’ll get a few songs recorded and sent, pronto,” I replied as I stepped up to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’m sure it will be in the mail by next weekend or the first of the following week.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing your performance, and hopefully seeing you play,” Dr. Daymond said with a smile. When he saw a shocked look come over Mr. and Mrs. Robertson’s faces, he added, “Yes, I’m often recruited to chaperone at Tracey’s school events. I actually enjoy it ... most of the time. Doing that gets me away from my office and the hospital, and gives me a chance to be wild and crazy with my beautiful wife.”

“We sure hope our band is what your wife is looking for,” Lynette replied and then surprised us with a loud, “Oh, dang!” as she cradled her injured right arm with her left hand. Apparently, she tried to lift her arm up and was quickly reminded about the folly of such actions.

“That, my good lady is an example of what NOT to do. Now, let’s get you dressed and then Ms. Janet here will help you with your new white and tan, clothing accessory,” Doctor Daymond said as he held up the canvas sling for everyone to see.

“Thanks for coming in to take care of my daughter, especially on a Saturday afternoon,” Mrs. Robertson said as the doctor set the sling on the ER room’s counter.

“It wasn’t an inconvenience,” he replied. “When my baby sees one of her babies get hurt or injured, we both want to do what we can to get them the best care possible. And when she told me about Lynette here, she definitely talked to me like she was one of Tracey’s volleyball babies.”

“Still, that was very big of you to come into the hospital on a Saturday afternoon,” Mr. Robertson replied. “I’m not sure we would have gotten near the care if we took her to the ER at either University or St. Joe’s Hospital in London. I, we, just can’t thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Robertson, Lynette and Mike. I enjoyed meeting you, even under these less than desirable circumstances.” Dr. Daymond then stopped in the doorway and turned back to Lynette and said, “For what it’s worth, Lynette, my wife told me that your team would have won the match, and probably would have earned a berth in the Ontario championships next weekend, if you didn’t hurt your shoulder. She said she couldn’t see either Goderich or Chatham-Tecumseh beating you in the finals, tonight. Tracey was VERY impressed with you, and told me you were the best tenth grade setter she had seen in her eleven years of coaching high school volleyball. I’m guessing now, but if you lived here in Sarnia, she would love to have you play for her, either at Northern or on the City’s club team which she coaches in the summer and fall.”

“Thanks for sharing that with me, Dr. D,” Lynette said with a smile as she held my hand. “Please tell your wife, thanks for those words, too. When my shoulder is better, I’m going try out for the London U-17 team, so I hope to see your wife’s Sarnia team a time or two at various club tournaments.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be able to take in a game or two then, so I can see for myself just how accurate my wife’s assessments of your volleyball skills were. I played at Windsor for three years before I stopped playing to focus on preparing for medical school.”

“That is so cool,” Lynette replied. “It was nice meeting you, Dr. Daymond, and your wife. I’m looking forward to seeing you, either at Northern’s Prom, or at a few club games. Thanks for your help.”

“Have a safe journey back to London, and I hope your shoulder gets back to one-hundred percent, real soon.” With that, Dr. Daymond stepped out of the ER room as Lynette and I waved our good byes to him.

“Well, with you good to go, I’m going to find the hospital cafeteria and round us up a few burgers, fries and drinks,” Mr. Robertson said before he gave his wife a brief peek on her cheek. “Would you and your friends like anything, Mike?”

“No thanks, Mr. Robertson. We stopped at a great ‘Mom and Pop’ diner and grabbed a bite on our way over here,” I replied for myself and my three band mates out in the waiting area.