Stop me if you’ve heard this one…

So, Sharp’s there, sitting on a cold bedpan, just because they’re so comfy. No, not really. They are neither comfy, nor is he actually sitting on it.

He’s wearing it as a helmet, and pretending to row his bed with his I.V. stand.

His wife watches him from the corner of her eye. Had it been anyone else, surely she would have seemed more concerned about such wacky antics. But, seeing that in the Sharp household, a touch of insanity is the norm, she seems pretty calm. However, we’re also not in the house… we’re at the hospital.

Why the fuck would they have a bedpan in their house, anyway?

Perverts.

“So, he’s going to be okay?” Suzy asks the doctor (luckily for him, not the same one that had attended his wife in her labor… or any of the others who bore captive witness to the display in the delivery room that day). She looks over at her husband who is ‘entertaining’ the other patients and nurses alike with his Washington-crossing-the-Delaware impersonation. There he goes, playing it to the crowd. Again. She shakes her head. “At least, as okay as usual?”

“Your husband suffered severe dehydration, Mrs. Sharp.” The doctor begins in a grandfatherly tone. “But more vexing is that, while the results of his MRI won’t be available til tomorrow at the earliest… your husband is showing the early signs of a repetitive concussion disorder.”

“Oh, no…” Suzy says, fighting back a smile. “I think that’s just genetic… He’s Irish, you know…”

The doctor misses the sarcasm, or opts to ignore it, instead peering over his spectacles at the young mother.

“Mrs. Sharp… Your husband’s barbaric line of work has resulted in an inordinate amount of damage to his body. His knees were already in bad shape from his military career, and that resulted in some deconditioning of his lower back… That loss of conditioning left his back vulnerable to further stress damage than even others in his business. But even all that pales in comparison to the amount of head trauma he’s suffered.”

Suzy shudders slightly, remembering some of the more brutal blows she’d witnessed the father of her children absorb in the past. Just tonight, he’d been alone for all intents and purposes against two men, and though he avoided most of their high-impact offense, he is only human… She thought the worst of it all was that he’d had to come to the hospital, and get on a saline drip. That he’d have to come home and rest, and spend time with her and the children, off of the road. That’s all. But this…

“Due to repeated injury…” the doctor began, interrupting her train of thought. “He’s begun to suffer almost a swelling of his brain tissue. It’s gotten to the point that even the most minor jostles will begin to have an adverse affect on him, neurologically.”

“So… He’s going to what, start forgetting things? But, he has an amazing memory… He remembers any phone number he’s ever dialed… remembers the tiniest details just by looking at something once… He NEVER forgets anything, even things I want him to, and he hasn’t had a bad head injury since… since…”

“Second-Impact Syndrome…” the doctor interrupts again. “Your husband suffered an appreciable injury nearly a year ago... his next wasn’t until just a few months ago, but after that one, your husband returned to work too soon, and has since taken a few more minor head impacts. However, due to the fact that he’s not been sleeping and taking care of himself, he’s healed at a lesser rate from this last injury, and the symptoms of that last concussion in March hadn’t completely subsided when he started competing again. Normally, six to eight weeks would be required to recover from that kind of trauma… But with your husband’s past injuries, and the fact that he was not resting, and under stress, that time could have been nearly doubled! I wouldn’t feel comfortable clearing him NOW, even without the injuries he’s taken since.”

Suzy’s heart sank.

‘Stephen not being cleared to wrestle?’ Suzy thinks as she watches her husband again. ‘When he’s finally this close… that would kill him.’

She can’t let it happen. Not after everything he’s been through to get to this point. Why is the universe so hell-bent on trying to keep them unhappy? No. There must be something that they could do. There must be. Her teary eyes turn back to the doctor.

“Sir… Doctor… Isn’t there anything…?”

Seeing her begin to choke up, the doctor softens his preachy tone somewhat. Exhaling forcefully through his nose, he continues.

“We could put him on medication, and he could take some time off. Coming back in before this next big show he’s been talking about for further observation before hand… but then he’d have to give serious thought to retirement.” His tone harshens again, slightly, and he adjusts his spectacles on his nose. “Mr. Sharp is shortening his life with each new injury, at this point.”

Suzy drops her gaze to the floor. She can’t think of her life without him. She doesn’t even remember how it was before they got together. Or at least that’s what she’s convinced herself to believe. But all that matters now, is her husband.

Tears roll down her cheeks. “Doctor… please… help him.” She stops. There’s a lump in her throat that she can’t swallow away.

“Please?”