Unsurprisingly, he tested positive for a mild concussion, and Mitch handled that news as well as anyone in his position could. But then the doctor diagnosed him with a torn rotator cuff, and that announcement sucked out all of the air from the room.
Though not so severe that it required surgery, he still needed to take a few weeks off from any physical activity that involved his right arm. For once in Mitch’s life, being left-handed was a rare silver lining rather than an inconvenience.
When a nurse outfitted him for a sling, the fog which plagued him since he came to lifted; he became acutely aware of just how undressed he was, how strange he looked in his smeared facepaint and wrestling gear, and how rank his body odor must be. The impact from this self-awareness was far more agonizing than any concrete floor could hope to deliver. But the nurse made no mention about it, which left him to wonder whether something even stranger drifted into the ER that night.
He received a written prescription for oxycotin, along with discharge instructions and a mention about making adjustments to the sling once he had access to a shirt. Despite hardly hearing a word that the nurse said, he thanked them. Every bit of focus went into not fixating on the 4″x5″ sheet of white bond paper in his hand, which he stuffed it into the flimsy plastic bag that contained his prosthetic ears and his dog collar. Normal wrestling stuff.
Christ, he probably looked like he just stumbled out of a BDSM club. The comparison wouldn’t be too off.
Enough time lapsed that he was granted permission to walk around on his own, so he met up with Jodie in the waiting room. He flashed a tired smile at her, and she was already on her feet before they exchanged any words out. After a grey hoodie was placed over his bare shoulders (who it belonged to was as good as anyone’s guess, but he assumed that it’d been taken from another roster member among the chaos), she presented a wad of dollar bills. Guilt gnawed at him for taking her away from the show, being the sole reason that she was away during a live taping.
“Jodie, you don’t have to-” Mitch began to protest as he looked over the money, but Jodie rolled her eyes and forced it into his hand.
“It probably won’t cover the entire co-pay, but,” she shrugged. “Everyone pooled together. Just take it.”
“Alright,” Mitch conceded, despite the nagging concerns. He knew damn well that the money was hers alone, but stood at an impasse; if he called her out, she would throw up further walls due to her stubbornness. It was late, he was too worn down to make an attempt.
“That spill was gnarly,” Jodie talked as they made their way over to check-out. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get back home tonight. It’s a long ride, and the Tri-State crew already took off.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Mitch’s eyebrows knit.
“Crash at my place?” she offered. He openly grimaced at the idea, and in exchange she bristled. “OK well, for starters, it’s after midnight. Greenwich is several hours away.” She counted on her fingers as she listed off points. “You can’t drive like this, and if you could, your car’s held together with shit like duct tape, hopes, and prayers.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Mitch agreed with a half-hearted laugh. The humor was short lived, and his face fell as realization settled in about other matters that needed addressing. “Fuck, I gotta call Calvin. FUCK, Jodie, where’s my-“
“Dude, chill. Here.” She held up his backpack, which he hastily unzipped and proceeded to rifle through. Its contents were tossed haphazardly about with his good arm, until he reached his phone. Frowning at him, she collected the scattered items that were strewn about the floor. “You think he’s gonna be up?”
“Don’t know.” Mitch stared at the screen, his thumb hoovering over the contact info. “Shit, I don’t want to wake him if he isn’t.”
“OK, but you almost…man, I don’t want to say ‘died’, but-” Jodie gestured as she trailed off. “You coulda been hurt real bad, y’know. You ARE hurt real bad. Your significant other should probably know about that.”
Frowning, Mitch lowered his phone to his side. “I’ll wait until I’m outside.”