Chapter 9

Pain Management

Two days later, we’d been to the rest of the ‘Lands’ and spent three quarters of a day at EPCOT. Alicia wasn’t available for Epcot, but her best friend in the park Sandra was happy to guide us. She had red hair, with the bluest eyes. Cory kept a grip on me all day, barely allowing me to smile at any girl all day.

We took the next day off, to look over the course scorecard we found online ... using yardage as a guide, there were at least six Par-Fours I may be able to drive.

The day after that we decided to go to the course and scout it out a little, and practice to see how my back was doing. We did our usual routine, practicing with the four-wood off the fairway. As I was handed Bertha by Cory, I heard a chorus of ‘Cannon,’ as I saw Luke Donald, who won it last year ... Justin Leonard, who came in second ... and Webb Simpson. I waved at them as Cory raised her hand to quiet them.

I was going to swing easy, but since these guys all showed, I went for the big swing ... ending on my knees again.

“Oh, shit Johnny ... what have you done?” my Cory said to me.

This hurt a lot more than the pain from the Grand Slam ... I was barely able to get up. Justin and Luke helped Cory get me to a standing position. This pain was all the way down my back.

Cory asked Justin to get our clubs ... which he did, and we took a golf cart as close to the Monorail as we could. Luke took it back for us, as we got in the elevator to get up to the loading platform ... Cory holding me up with one arm and carrying the bag of clubs with the other.

A couple of Disney people took me from Cory, while another got the clubs from her. “The Contemporary Hotel please ... could you get us a doctor, this is more than I know how to handle,” Cory said practically breaking down into tears.

“Don’t worry, we got him ... and the clubs ... we can’t let the Cannon be without Bertha and his clubs,” one of the two big guys who had me firmly in their grasp. They walked me up to and I stepped inside the front of the Monorail.

We all took the trip together, with Cory holding my hand saying soothing things to me. My phone rang and Cory got it.

“This is Johnny’s phone?”

“This is David Feherty, Cory ... can I speak to your hubby ... I got bad news!”

“We do too, David ... I don’t see Johnny playing in this tournament now ... he did something even more serious to his back and we’re meeting up with a doctor back at our hotel as soon as we can. What’s your news ... couldn’t get out of your broadcasting responsibilities?”

“Yes, exactly ... but please keep me informed as you can?”

“Sure thing, David.”

“Let me ... ow ... talk to David for a minute please?”

She handed me the phone and as I shakily held it, I said, “Next year ... we’re a team at this ... OK David?”

“Sure ... anything you’d like ... just get better, nobody wants you to get better faster than I do. You do have a tournament with your own name on it in less than six months. Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

We got to the hotel and there was a wheelchair waiting for me, with Alicia and Sandy holding hands and tearing up. “We love you Johnny!” they said as we rolled by. I waved to them blowing them a kiss, as we got in the elevator to our room.

They walked me into the room asking, “Sitting down or on the bed, Johnny?”

I said to try me on the bed, which felt comfortable. There was a knock on the door, which Cory got up to let everybody out. She let in, who must have been the Doctor.

“Hello, Mr. Masters ... I have enjoyed following your rise in the golfing community, where does it hurt exactly?”

I told him and he asked if Cory could get off my shirt. With a fair amount of both pain and discomfort, she singularly completed the task. That worried me even more.

“Turn over please?” he asked.

Cory got a pillow for me to put under my shoulders and re-grabbed my hand. “Have you called my folks yet, Cory?”

Taking a moment to register what I asked she got up and made the phone call. The Doctor was touching my back in many places, asking how much it hurt, ‘On a scale of one to ten.’

He then asked me to slowly move my head to the left than to the right, but nothing hurt. He suggested I get an MRI, so Cory got off the phone with the folks and called downstairs for an ambulance. Within 15 minutes there was an EMT and his partner rolling in a gurney, and they got me on it. I asked Cory for my shirt, she draped it over me following everyone out of the room.

Ninety minutes later, after the MRI, the operator said that my pain was the result of overloading my left side back and arm muscles.

I told him I was a lefthander that played golf right-handed to which all he said was, “U-huh.”

He mentioned that it might be chronic ... but looked reversible. Our doctor came in and looked and agreed that rest was in order.

Knowing that he knew who I was, I asked, “Doctor, will it heal enough to play golf again ... I am only twenty years old?”

“Mr. Masters ... I can say conclusively that you will play again, I’d guess that you could be ready by the Masters in April. You could likely play before that, but knowing you have the fastest club head speed on the planet, you will need to significantly slow down everything. Mrs. Masters, Cory ... keep a club away from him for at least two months. Here’s a prescription for pain pills. I’d also suggest that you get him a back-massaging device. I’d even suggest no coitus for at least two weeks.”

Both of our faces got pink as I said, “Doc, no golf for eight weeks?”

“Everyone heals at a different pace, Johnny ... you may be perfectly fine by the first of March ... just take ... everything easy, please. Do you have a Doctor in Loveland?”

“No,” Cory said. “Could you give us a referral?”

“Certainly, I know a number of Doctors in that region. I will get it for you before we check him out tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir ... in all of the time I have known him, this is the first time he’s been hurt,” Cory said crying a bit.

“We all thought ‘The Cannon’ was invulnerable ... he will be fine. I am quite certain that you have the magic touch,” He responded.

They proceeded to take me back to the room I started in. They gave me a shot for the pain.

“Cory ... turn on the TV please, let’s see if we made the news or not!” I asked presumptively.

After flipping through the channels, we found the Golf Channel Logo, and David walked into the shot.

“Turn it up,” I asked.

“Hello everyone, you all know me as the Irish goofball who always says the wrong thing at the wrong time, but today ... I ask all of ‘The Cannons’ fans and all those of you who won’t admit you like him, to pray for him. While on the Practice Range getting ready to play a round of golf, he collapsed and it took three of the PGA’s finest to help him and his wife to get back to his hotel where a doctor performed a cursory exam, then an ambulance was called to get the Masters’ to the nearest hospital where less than an hour ago, he got an MRI ... and was told that he couldn’t play golf for over four months.”

“Johnny and his wife Cory are at the Celebration Health Hospital where he is being treated by the finest doctors in Florida.”

“Finally, I must say ... that his tournament coming up after the Masters next year, brings golf back to the Centennial State of Colorado. It was his and Cory’s idea to do it and the PGA of America has gotten firmly behind him, so make those travel plans today. This is David Feherty for the Golf Channel!”

Over the next 24 hours, I never saw so many flowers, telegrams, emails, and well wishes. The flowers that Adam Scott got me were Azaleas; at least that’s what Cory said they were. The outpouring of love was felt as each new basket of flowers, candy or telegrams came.

Cory read me each of the messages I’d gotten.

Timothy Cook of Apple wrote:

“Dear Johnny and Cory,

Everyone here at Apple has expressed his or her hope that you will be up and around sooner as opposed to later. We all are hoping to see you, at the Master’s and the Johnny Masters Invitational ... we think you are capable of the Grand Slam ... And to put my money where my mouth is, I am personally writing a check for $4 million dollars to add to the JMI Purse.

You are what’s right with your generation, who knows what technology your children will have when they become 20 years old?

We have a small staff that’s looking 20 years in the future, and the future looks impressive indeed. The moment you become available, we’re ready to make a few commercials with you and your lovely wife.

Sincerely Yours,

Timothy Cook

Ps. No Mercy!”

“Cory!”

“I guess ... I said it out loud a couple of times, sorry?”

“Can I get a kiss, please?” I asked.

“Sure,” she leaned over and gave me a sideways kiss, just as the doctor walked in, causing her to pull up from me and blush a bit.

“I want to take you for another MRI to see if there’s any improvement, we will be right back Mrs. Masters.”

Less than five minutes passed before I heard a manic voice, “WHERE THE HELL IS MY SON!”

A male nurse brought Mom and Dad into the MRI data screen area. “I am sorry ... but I learned a long time ago that in a hospital the only thing they listen to are the screamers,” dad said. “Hey Johnny,” he said seeing me being put on my back.

“Hey Dad ... Mom, I knew that was you ... only Doctors and small animals are tuned to the wavelength of yours.”

I was being rolled into the machine, so I couldn’t hear anything from that point on. Four minutes later I came out and was helped to a sitting position. The sound system was back up going both ways, “Good news, Johnny ... the relaxation of the last 24 hours has had a significant effect ... I’d change my prognosis from five months to two to three months, plenty of time for the Masters and the tournament bearing your name. We will be checking you out a little later in the day, first another shot to help you relax.”

I got the shot from the person who got me out of the MRI, and she helped me get back on my gurney before I was too fuzzy. I woke up in my room with Cory holding my hand and Mom and Dad holding each other. “I have a feeling, I’m not in Pahrump anymore.”

They all laughed at my base attempt at humor.

Cory had a card in her hand ... it was shaking. She read it:

“From the President of the United States of America:

December 9^th, 2011

Dear Johnny and Cory:

Michelle and I are fans of the game of golf, as are many Americans. We would like to send you our personal support and wish you a strong and complete recovery so that you can return to the game you love, and the game many persons worldwide love to watch each week.

When the time is right, I would like to schedule a round of golf with you and your wife.

Again, my thanks to you and your abilities!

Barak H. Obama

President of the United States of America

“Wow!” I said, “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, Johnny ... you know, when you do start playing golf again, you really have to stop showing off. We all love you; whether you win everything you enter or don’t ever win another tournament. We need to throttle you down in club head speed. I know it’s cool that you have the fastest ever recorded, but I want to have a couple of babies with you, and that means taking it easy, OK?” my crying wife said to me.

“I promise, in front of my mother and father that I will do whatever it takes to stay in good health. First thing is to cut down on the number of Tournaments we enter. Get out your laptop, here’s what we will play in 2012:

2/5/12-The Pebble Beach Pro-am (if able)
3/5/12-The WGC Cadillac Championship
3/19/12-Arnold Palmer Invitational
4/2/12-The Masters
5/7/12-The Players Championship
5/14/12-Johnny Masters Invitational
6/11/12-The US Open
6/18/12-Travelers Championship
7/16/12-The British Open
8/6/12-PGA Championship
(9/24/12-President’s/Ryders Cups (if asked)
11/05/12-Children’s Miracle Network ... with David as my partner.
And that’s it!”
(BOLD = Major Champinships)
Dad said, “You mean that you will skip the FedEx Cup, Johnny?”

“My life, back, marriage, and my parents are more important than golf, then I could be satisfied with either a Tiger Slam or the Real thing ... the Grand Slam.”

“I love you, Johnny,” my wife said.

“I love you more, Cory,” I responded.

“I said I am coming in,” was heard loudly from outside the door. It opened to show Tiger Woods there in my room. “How are ya doing, twenty-year-old?”

“I have been better, Tiger,” which was an obvious understatement.

“How’d you and your wife and parents like a private jet ride home to Loveland?” he asked.

“Damn it, I would,” dad said with Mom holding him back.

“Then it’s set. Mr. Masters, here’s the phone number to get it when you need it. Give Chester, the pilot, at least two-hour’s notice, OK?”

Without thinking Cory went over to him and gave him a buss on the cheek, “Thanks Tiger ... They told him he will be ready in time for the Power Grand Slam next year.”

“The Power Grand Slam, that’s a term I have never heard ... which tournaments are involved anyway?” he asked.

I’d given this idea to Cory a long while ago before the back problems.

“Masters, Players, US Open, Travelers, British Open and the PGA Championship ... that’s the Power Slam ... Johnny actually coined the term seven years ago when you were beating everyone all the time. If you don’t do it, I will bet my Johnny can!” Cory said full of pride.

Shaking his head in agreement ... Tiger said, “I believe you Cory ... that sounds like a job for ‘The Cannon!’ Goodbye and take good care of him, Cory.”

“Holy Mackerel, that was Tiger Woods!” dad said sitting down with Mom sitting alongside him, holding his hand.

“You know Dad, we got the very best when it comes to wives ... don’t you think?”

“Truer words have never been spoken Johnny!”

By the same time the following day, we were all back in Loveland. Besides the private plane, there was a limo waiting for us at DIA to get us all home. Our personal vehicles followed us home as well.

After settling in and assuring the folks I was OK, it was just Cory and I.

“Cory, again I am sorry that I caused you so much pain and inconvenience,” I said through tears.

Grabbing my hand, she said, “Stop it, Johnny ... that doesn’t matter, what matters is you getting better. Why don’t I read you some of the ‘get well’ emails you have gotten?”

“Sounds good, beautiful!”

Over the next hour and a half, Cory read me messages from not just other golfers. The list included, George Clooney, Jennifer Grey, Paula Abdul, Jessica Alba, Scarlett Johansen, and Tobey Maguire. Some tennis players also chimed in, including Roger Federer and Michael Chang.

“Johnny,” Cory said, “I have got not only a get-well message from Andre Agassi, but he talks about how he resolved his ongoing back problems. Listen to this,”

‘Hey Cannon:’

‘Sorry that your back is giving you grief ... I have had back issues most of my adult life ... until I went through rehab!

I was told about ART, or Active Release Technique. Although I have been retired for a while now, I used to have the nickname, ‘The Punisher.’

Lookup on the Internet, ‘Active Release Technique’ and find yourself a good physical therapist as soon as possible.

I enjoy watching you play golf; you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. I used to be a bad boy, which you are in no danger of becoming.

I’d fallen to #122 in the rankings before I found out about ART. They said I’d ‘over-trained’ the right side of my body ... the techniques ‘released’ the problem and strengthened my left side a great deal. Steffi and I are looking forward to seeing how you do on the PGA Tour, what we did while playing professional tennis.

Hope to see you playing soon,

Andre Agassi’

“Wow ... that sounds promising!” I said to Cory.

“Let me look it up a little and find the closest practitioner?” Cory said tapping and moving the mouse around a bit. “We don’t have one in Loveland, but Fort Collins has a place called Absolute Performance Chiropractic ... I will call them.”

She called and explained who I was and what I needed ... Dr. Schick would see me two days from now. She got off the phone and sounded excited.

“Johnny, besides the ART, they have what they call the Titleist Performance Institute, specifically for athletes. I will put you in both programs ... we have an appointment for the day after tomorrow.”

Our folks came along with Cory and I to the appointment. After an initial discussion, Dr. Schick asked me to remove my shirt and lay on my stomach.

I had explained where the pain was as he used his hands and fingers to locate and evaluate the texture, tightness, and mobility of what he called the ‘soft tissue.’ He found four times as many ‘adhesions’ or ‘scar tissue nodules’ on my left shoulder and left upper back as he had on my right side.

“You are a left-hander that turned to golf right-handed, correct?” the doctor asked.

“I did that to him Doc,” dad said. “I didn’t cause this by doing that, did I?”

“No, not at all ... I am surprised more left-handers don’t play the game right-handed ... there is a subtle muscular advantage. Are you left eye or right eye dominant, Johnny?”

“I don’t really know the answer to that, Doc,” I answered.

He had me turn to on my back and put a tube in front of my eyes, asking me to look at my wife ... First with both eyes, then with my right only and finally my left by itself.

“Which eye gave you the same sightline as both eyes?” he asked.

“My left eye.”

“You are left eye dominant, as I had suspected,” the doctor recited. “When you putt, you use Cory’s read, correct?”

“Yeah, when I tried it on my own, I was always short and to the left ... Never up ... Never in!”

“So, I’d suspect that Cory, being right handed is right eye dominant ... that explains how you two are better than most at reading putts. You literally see it from two distinct angles,” the doctor explained.

He told me to get up and put my shirt on, “I recommend three times a week you come in to start. It may not always be me, but I have half a dozen PCs who’re trained to give this technique. I suspect you will be swinging a club again in three or four weeks (Yippee!)

Before we left, we scheduled the next two weeks of treatment.

Mom and Dad took us home, by way of driving thru for some lunch. They stayed and chatted for a while.

At my first treatment, Dr. Schick had a Nurse with him so he could count and locate all my ‘adhesions’ and ‘scar tissues’ he found exploring my entire back with his fingers ... it took two hours to find them all.

There were,

8 on my left upper arm

1 on my right upper arm

18 on my left anterior deltoids

5 on my right anterior deltoids

33 on my left posterior deltoids

7 on my right posterior deltoids

He also found agitation in my latissimus dorsi and both gluteus muscles. Down my left leg he found tightness in my hamstrings, gracilis and gastrocnemius.

While I didn’t know what most of those terms meant, the doctor made the salient point that you need to know where to start your treatment. With the first hour used for the searching of the problem, the doctor started to work on some of my issues, showing Cory exactly what he was doing.

There were times when I felt her fingers instead of his. She was eager and apparently an excellent student of using the technique. When the doctor said something like, ‘good job, Cory’ I heard her giggle which relaxed me.

When we were done, he said that for the first two weeks, he would go through and recount to see if anything had been reduced or removed.

The doctor said for me to take a rolling pin and do as much of the swinging motion as I could, but he said to swing twice as much left-handed as I did right-handed.

I got dressed and was put in a wheelchair and sent home. It was likely all in my mind, but my legs already felt a lot better.

After the first two complete weeks of visits, the doctor recounted and found,

3 on my left upper arm
1 on my right upper arm
11 on my left anterior deltoids
5 on my right anterior deltoids
27 on my left posterior deltoids
5 on my right posterior deltoids
A marked improvement!

He had me stand and he gave me a wooden stick and asked me to pretend I was addressing the ball and swing only forward as slow as I could, stopping when it got uncomfortable. I started at six o’clock and got to just past eight o’clock when it got sore.

We did the same thing as a lefty and I got to nearly ten o’clock, although I’d never done much swinging as a left-hander. This would become part of my therapy once a week.

As we were finishing up for the day, Dr. Schick called us all in, Mom and Dad showed up and we all sat down.

He went behind his desk, and his face went a little bit serious. “I have something to tell you all ... after two weeks of treatment, there is a change in how long I think Johnny will take to completely recover.”

We all held our collective breath as he said, “He should be swinging a club in two more weeks, hitting balls in another two weeks, playing tournament golf in another two weeks after that ... However, that all depends on Johnny coming in when he’s scheduled, Cory giving him some additional therapy at home and everyone supporting him.”

“Could I please speak to just Johnny and Cory for a few moments? Thank you!”

We waited for the room to clear as he started up, “Mr. Masters ... we’re lucky we caught this when we did, there could have been tearing or permanent damage. This wife of yours, for all intents and purposes, saved your life when she brought you to us. I’d say that you could begin re-introducing some romance into your lives, but everything in moderation or you could easily have a setback.”