Aftermath

I sat up…opened my eyes…the room was filled with bright lights. Hmmm…now where is this place. I checked out my surroundings and came to a conclusion that I was in the hospital getting up from the hospital bed and the room was empty. I hate being in the hospital because most it the time you only go there to receive bad news from doctors diagnosing you with certain ailments. Just as I was about to get off the hospital, I looked up at the Television to see if it provided me with the current time. It didn’t but it was a sports channel and they were covering highlights of a boxing match. I watched closely…my eyes were glued to the screen and didn’t even pay attention to the nurse that just walked in to my room. One of the fighters in black trunks fights exactly like I do. He’s hit hard with the speed of the devil…I was really impressed. Then the fighter on TV with the black trunks turned and walked to his corner at the end of the round…and low and behold…the fighter was me…and the highlights they were showing were the highlights of my fight. I shook my head…the commentators commented that both our conditioning was embarrassing but both fighters showed tremendous heart. But that phrase, “both the fighters’ conditioning was embarrassing,” were imprinted to my memory…I won’t forget that…ever.
“Hi champ!” the nurse said sweetly. I looked up at her, she looked like those fit young girls that worked in a fitness club at the front counter greeting customers and answering phone calls. I chuckled and thought to myself, did my coach play a prank on me and have this girl play dress-up as the naughty nurse and make her role-play with me as a winning bonus?...after all this IS Vegas and you all know the saying "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." Or is this really legit Sin City nurse uniform, low cut with short skirts...
“You know a lot of people that work in this hospital who didn’t have work tonight all went to your fight eh?” she said.
“Really? I’m glad you had to work tonight,” I said under my breath.
“Why you say that?” she asked.
“Cause I put on a hell of a fight…” I replied. She seemed puzzled. “A hell of a ‘boring’ fight,” I finished. She looked at my elbow area. It was swelling up. “Does it hurt a lot? Do you want ice while the doctor gets here?” she asked. “Naw…I’m fine, thanks!” I replied. She pulled up a chair and sat beside me and asked, “So…what do you do in Toronto?” Before I could answer her question her pager went off. She had to go tend to another patient. She opened the door…she paused for 2 seconds and turned around and said cheerfully, “Don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back!” She winked as she closed the door.
I laid back on the bed. My photographic memory allows me to view the whole match as I remembered it to be like a film on playback. I was going through what I did well and the mistakes I made. I can start to feel pain on the places he threw punches at me now since the adrenaline wore off.
The door burst open and in stepped the doctor. He had the name tag that said Dr. Woreff on it. He’s a middle aged fellow and unlike other doctors I’ve seen this one didn’t seem to be socially handicapped…he seemed like someone I can talk to other than about health and nerdy stuff. “Congratulations on your victory!” he said cheerfully. I forced a smile out. “Well I’m sure you have places to go and people that would love to meet you…especially all that PR stuff you’d have to handle after a fight here in Vegas.” He’s right I did have a lot of interviews and after-parties to go to including the one I’m suppose to host right now at the Palms which I already paid for. But I was in no rush to get out of the hospital any time soon. Las Vegas…the place I called home away from home booed me after my fight and while I was answering questions from the announcer. It’s quite hard to take even for a person as thick skinned as me. Dr. Woreff was applying pressure on certain parts of the elbow asking me if I felt pain to see if I had a tear on my ligament or a ruptured tendon. I didn’t…it just ruptured my pride when 5,300 fans booed me in unison. When the check up was complete, I thanked the doctor and proceeded to the exit. As I reached for the door…
“You know…” the doctor said. I froze. “My son, his name’s Mike, he’s a fan of boxing…I took him to Orlando, Florida last Christmas and all he wanted to do when we got there was see you fight. My son is autistic...” I shook my head, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Well, he doesn’t talk much, if not at all. At any rate, my wife and I bought tickets to see your fight just as the got sold out. You put on a great show dazzling hand speed…a perfect display of craftsmanship…My son was cheering and yelling and talking to us while you were fighting and in between rounds. It was a magical moment for me and my wife; we’d never seen him this happy before and talk that much.” He paused, “I want you to know something kid, I don’t care who says…if you really want it…go after it…don’t let anyone tell you otherwise…doesn’t matter if they boo you…you're my sons hero...you mean the world to him and that means a hella lot to me too.” I nodded. “Thank you.” I said quietly. “No, Thank YOU.” He said as he shook my hand and gave me a pat on the back.

I walked out of the room my coach was right outside the door waiting. I told him everything’s alright. He told me I took a shower after the fight and got dressed up for the post fight conference and passed out of exhaustion on the dressing room. Then the doctor in charge during the fight advised that you should get your elbow checked out prior to the post fight conference. By the time I checked out of the hospital it was already 1:15am. If I was in Toronto with the flawed health care system I wouldn’t be taken care of for days until the doctor has time to see me. Its still early I could make it to my after party and meet some of the fight fans. But the thought of them booing me didn’t seem to be a welcoming presence even if it's my own party at the Palms. I took a deep breath of Las Vegas desert oasis…very dry yet refreshing. I’m calling it a night...going to heading back to my hotel suite…its one of these nights where I want to keep it low key even though this fight has gotten a lot of negative press and feedback. And while I was in the hospital, my opponent Terrell was out having a drink and a good time at my after party…(looks like he's more of a winner than i am)