Sprain

Friday August 29, 2025

This was a really fun weekend, but I don’t want to remember it’s over.

My streak of injury-free rec soccer ended Tuesday night after about 13 years. Ironically, it was the last game I planned to play for months.

The 3-game-a-week schedule has slowly been dwindling, and after winning in the semis and losing in the championship in my Sunday league, I was hoping we might get one more shot at a title from the Tuesday league with a semifinal win this week. We previously lost to our opponent 5-0 about six weeks ago, but it was a 90-degree night, we were missing our best player, and it was the most painful my Achilles’ felt all season — I could barely jog. (Incidentally, my unofficial physical therapist, Andrew Pacheco’s, exercises have really helped!)

It was a pretty competitive game. We mostly controlled the pace of play, but they scored twice in transition. In the final few minutes, we were down 2-1, and the game was getting a bit heated. The ref let a hard tackle from behind on Asher Vogel go, only to call a much softer one in a more dangerous area against us just moments later. They missed the free kick, but as we made our final attempt, Asher played me ahead on a 2-on-2. I got one touch towards goal before their 6-foot, 220-pound meathead defender cleaned me out from behind in the penalty box.

I landed straight on my shoulder, heard a crack, and adrenaline got me right back up to ask what the fuck the ref was thinking letting that one go. Immediately, three players on their team start chirping he got all ball. None of the chickenshits on my team made a peep.

Genuinely, I have no idea if he got any ball or not. The ball was on my left foot, and he went through my right shoulder, so I kinda doubt it. Either way, it was an insanely reckless and unnecessary tackle in a rec league. He went straight through my shoulder rather than trying to play the ball, which is fine defense in a competitive league, but we are fucking grown-ass adults who sit at desks, not professional athletes.

The game ended seconds after that tackle. I shook hands, told the ref he was the worst official I’d seen in this league, and bitched to my teammates as they all gave me these glazed-over looks like I was overreacting.

I drove home one-handed as my left shoulder became increasingly useless holding the wheel. A hot shower made the joint feel a bit better, but when I toweled off, I got lightheaded from the steady throb going down my left arm. Lindsay and I fought over whether or not to go to the hospital since the more we ChatGPT diagnosed, the more it seemed like ligament damage, not a break. They’re not going to do an MRI at the hospital. I had a fantasy football draft to do. I put some ice on it.

After ten minutes of ice, though, I could barely move my arm. It had almost completely locked up my shoulder joint, so after I made my first pick, I took it off and told Lindsay I wanted to go to the hospital.

Fortunately, we live about five minutes away, so we made our second trip to Melrose-Wakefield of the day (non-stress test earlier) and left the emergency room around midnight with confirmation of no break, a strong suspicion of a rotator cuff sprain, and directions to ice, spam painkillers, and avoid strenuous activity.

I don’t know how much you know about rotator cuffs, but you use them for fucking everything. It hurts to sleep, put on deodorant, get dressed, use a towel, drive, cook, type, walk if my arm sways at all, lift literally anything… I feel like a one-armed person, only way less capable because that person actually learned how to exist with one arm. Even petting the dog hurts unless he comes to nuzzle up to my limp fucking stump.

A few days later, the pain’s pretty manageable with ibuprofen and lidocaine, so I’m hoping to avoid the orthopedic referral I was instructed to use if still hurting after a week. Still, I’m not supposed to do much of anything for at least a week, which is great when I already feel like I’ve been completely useless to Lindsay for months and she’s nine months pregnant. I can type when I put myself in the right position, at least, so I won’t stop working. We lost the game, and everybody on my team made me feel like I was crazy. My emotional state is great. Yippie.

One Song: Gipsy Kings - Bamboléo

I’ve watched a stupid amount of TV this week since I’m taking more frequent breaks. That included a few episodes of the new season of Always Sunny. This song was in one of them and it is one hell of an earworm.

One Hollywood: Chief of War, Apple TV+

Right, so stupid amount of TV. I watched the entirety of this Apple TV+ series — only five episodes, but still, goddamn. I was skeptical when I saw the ads because I’m not a big Jason Momoa fan and it had the look of a show that was going to be wildly offensive to Polynesian people, but the reviews were good so I gave it a shot. Glad I did! It was actually pretty entertaining and, as near as I can tell about the history of Kamehameha’s unifying conquest of Hawaii, not completely egregious with the real events. Would recommend.

One Drug: Lidocaine

I’ve made a point to avoid injuries in adulthood after spending an inordinate amount of time in hospitals as a child. Turns out, I’ve been missing out on lidocaine! This stuff is awesome. Just put a patch on a painful spot and the pain is significantly stunted for like 12 hours. Amazing!

One Food: Steak Tips

Why are steak tips a regional thing? Y’all are crazy. Lindsay and I went to Champion’s in Peabody just for the steak tips last night. Worth it.