I was reminded today of a really cool story, true of course, that took place during my sleep around the time following my Sunday crisis. The details are once again a collection of other people’s experience so I will do my best to do the story justice as it is quite amazing.
Background: First you need to be reminded of some critical background information, such as the fact that from the beginning of my series I have had an official game puck, stick and jersey, as well as a “Cup” that I am looking forward to winning. These things have been with me through most every step of my journey, I have always had my puck, stick and jersey with me in my hospital rooms or as I moved around at home.
So you know almost the whole time I was in the ICU I had the official puck in my hand as I ’slept’. And I have been told that all Nurses were aware of it’s significance and were very careful to ensure it remained in my hand. I was fortunate to have the puck and the jersey with me as they made the trip home from Toronto, but my stick was left in the parking garage of my Mom’s apartment, locked in the packed-up car. I didn’t take it home with me as I did not trust the baggage handlers on the airline, as I would have been most upset should anything have happened to it. I thought of taking it on the plane with me, but didn’t want to risk getting a crabby airline agent and being forced to check it in. So I left it in Toronto to make the trip home with my Grandfathers car which we had been using during our stay in the big city.
Well the story begins with my parents and Jenny ultimately deciding that I needed to have my stick. I’m not sure how this arose, but it did and I’m glad for it. After all how the hell was I going to play my most important shifts without my number one tool!! So this is where the story starts and I’m sure I’ll miss many fine details but the general story I’m sure I’ll be able to get across.
The challenge now existed, how do we (I mean my support network) get my stick from the backseat of my Grandfather’s car, in a parking garage in Toronto, to my hospital room in the Intensive Care Unit at the HealthSciences Center (a.k.a. The Eaton Complex)? The first part of the answer lay with a man I have only met a few times, my Uncle’s brother (The Stickman), who was travelling from Toronto to Newfoundland around that time. He, the Stickman, was contacted by my Uncle and given the detailed instructions of where to find the garage and the car, and what exactly he had to retrieve, as I think he also got “the CUP” and my very important John Mellencamp CD’s as I had music in my room playing consistently. Before he could get in the car he needed to have the keys, right the keys! Some how they got to Toronto, I’m not sure but they were flown as the Stickman picked them up at the airport. So from there he traveled to the garage and after some conversing with the frontdesk clerk he was let into the garage, except the instructions had some how been confused and he ended up on the wrong floor. After walking throughout and up through 3 floors the mystery car with the “Newfoundland” plates was found and the desired items removed. The story continues… the Stickman, pleased with his efforts thus far soon realizes that he is locked in the garage!! He eventually finds a door he can open without a key and follows a corridor that ultimately lands in out of the building in a alley.
First part over, on the to next step, the airport and the flight home. Someone had apparently made arrangements with Air Canada as there were specific instructions on the Stickman’s flight file that he be allowed to carry the stick and trophy on board. This was the easy part and as they plane made it’s approach to St. John’s the pilot pulled up and hit the gas, a feeling many of us are familiar with as it is often too foggy to land. This was one of those times so it was off to Gander, which is about a 3-3 1/2 hour drive from St. John’s. The Stickman touched base once landed in Gander and at that time Air Canada was making arrangements to bus everyone to St. John’s, which was deemed unacceptable for both the valued cargo and it’s company. So it was decided that a cab would be the best way to get to town, but wait… at the last minute another Uncle would get into the mix. (God thing my Dad had some sisters as their husbands sure came in handy during this process) So Uncle Ricketts, as he will be known to you, got in touch with someone from the Gander office of the RCMP, as he was RCMP from Nova Scotia. The Stickman was informed there would be an Officer at the airport shortly and he would drive family and cargo to Goobies where they would be met by Uncle Ricketts. Well the story that I have heard indicates there were two parts to this drive, the first part with the RCMP Officer which was experienced at approximately 100km/hour, and the second part with Uncle Ricketts which was experienced at a speed perhaps a little faster than 100km/hour. Suffice it to say that the equipment made it to St. John’s in record time from Goobies in. Upon arriving in St. John’s the crew and cargo proceeded directly to the hospital and where they were greeted by many of my greatest fans. The Stickman promptly presented Jenny, my girlfriend, with my stick which was then brought directly to my room.
It has been with me ever since, it made every room change at home and at the hospital as well as all residence changes, as we all quickly learned that I can’t play very well without my stick.
Hope you enjoyed that story as much as I did. I was truly moved and amazed at the number of people involved in the process to reunite me with my stick. Thanks to all those involved and I hope I have done this incredible story justice.
Geoff
#4
