“He’s bleeding to death!” exclaimed the referee when he saw the dark, red liquid covering the ice like a blanket on a bed. My brother, Jake, however, had sprinted to the door, left hand on his right arm, and waved his hand franticly for some one to open it. Then…
Wednesday, April 2, 2008, the sun shined bright on our black Yukon as we sped towards Kent. Spring told us that the regular season was over and it was time for the spring season, three on three hockey league.
We started the game regularly, with all of the players slowly disperse onto the ice for there three minute warm up so they can break in their new tape job and let their skates taste the newly cut ice, and see if they were sharpened to there liking.
The first two periods were played out as normal. This time we played this team, unlike the last time the score was lower. The other team was playing like it was the seventh game in the Stanly Cup Championship and at the end of these periods we were only up by five.
“I’m starting the period” I proclaimed as the whistle blew to start the third period.
“Can I please go out?” Jake requested. “I was only out for ten seconds.”
“Ok.” If only I had started that fateful period.
The period started, the puck dropped and it went to Jake who took it up the ice. Went around the net and scored, that’s when it happened.
Jake fell on top of the defenseman who had fallen next to the net and was on his hands and knees. At one point, my brother’s wrist went over the defenseman’s new razors on his feet. His gloves went into lift off as it rocketed through the air and landed across the ice. By the time it had landed, my brother had lost three coke cans worth of blood. He had one main artery in his arm hanging out the hole in his wrist. Jake also cut two tendons and a nerve. The parents in the stands had no clue what had happened because they were waving back at Jake when he waved them over to open the door. While all this happened everyone on our bench had no clue what was happening. The other two people on Jake’s line said he had cut his finger, but he lost too much blood for it to be his finger. By the end of the game we had won by one point, my brother’s point.
I didn’t learn something right away from my brother’s accident: actually after his accident I was less careful. But, after seeing the huge struggle he has had, with surgery, not being able to play for months, physical therapy, his struggle today, getting through the thought of cutting his arm again, it has shown me that life is precious and shouldn’t be taken for granted. But when we do take it for granted an event will come along and show us how important our health and life are.
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