he wore a sleeveless shirt with his predictable basketball shorts. Even his backwards hat had chalk on it. Air seized my lungs, a little knot clamped the back of my throat. I was so drawn to him, like a magnet ready to collide with its counterpart.
Kova ran a tired hand down his face. "I pray you have good news for me?"
I sat up straight and cleared my throat. "Good news is I have micro tears in my Achilles a little bigger than the last time," I said sarcastically. He sat stone-faced, unimpressed with what I considered good news, but I needed something to help me pass this hurdle I was suddenly faced with. "The MRI didn't show a complete rupture, which actually surprised the doctor. He was sure I tore it completely. Strangely enough, he concluded that I have an abnormal ankle joint. Apparently, I've been compensating on one side. Who knew? My foot has less than ten-degree flexion due to my ankle bones, so my Achilles takes the brunt of the landings. The area around my Achilles, the bursa, blows up and squeezes the Achilles, which is where the pain is coming from. So, they're going to do platelets-rich plasma injections," I said slowly, trying to make sure I got it right, "to promote fast healing and then do the Grayson Technique. He insisted I rest for several weeks, but I told him that wasn't an option." I paused to glare at Kova, dipping my head a little to reinforce my next words. "Because it's not an option, Kova. I know I should go easy when I condition and train, but we'll see. He told me with the PRP I should start to see signs of increased function within four to six weeks, as long as I don't do any extra aggressive physical activity, but physical therapy that’s set up through my doctor." I added the extra in there.
"Graston Technique."
Damn it. I knew I got the name wrong. "Tomato, tomahto."
"Did your doctor say how many injections?"
"Four. At the most, six. But he said only time will tell."
"And how—"
"Oh! And he said no anti-inflammatory medicine, no matter what. That's a bummer considering Motrin is part of my food group."
Kova gave me a droll stare. "I am well aware of that. And how often is the blading to occur?"
My brows furrowed. "Blading?"
"Yes," he sighed. "Blading is a nickname for the Graston Technique, Adrianna." I stayed silent as he continued. "They run a steel bar over your Achilles to smooth it out." His brows lifted and he moved his hands back and forth like he was rolling out dough, exhibiting how it would happen. "It is usually done to help prevent swelling and immobility." He stared at my blank face. "It is a more extreme form of massage, if you will."
I didn't move a muscle. And barely moving my lips, I blandly said, "He didn't explain that part to me. I'll have to find out when I go back for the PRP." Blading did not sound like fun. It sounded like torture.
"Who is your doctor?"
I rambled off the name of the office as he leaned over and unlocked one of his desk drawers. He pulled out a manila folder and opened it, flipping through the pages inside.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, so I was right," he said, reading the paper in his hand. "They have trainers at this office who go around to the sports clubs in the area and work on athletes with injuries so they don't have to leave the gym. The blading only takes about ten minutes or so, this is perfect if you need it a few times a week."
I grimaced, fighting an eye roll. "Great. Sounds like loads of fun."
Kova looked up at me. "This is not your first rodeo, remember? You can do this."
A chuckle escaped my lips, I couldn't help it. Hearing Kova use my line was amusing since it came out of his Russian mouth so stiffly. Like he was testing out the word.
"What?" A soft smile tugged at his lips and I hated that it affected me. "Did I say it wrong?"
"No, it just sounds funny coming from you."
Kova stood and placed the paper down before making his way around the desk to stand in front of me. He dropped his hips to the top and leaned over. He clasped his hands in front of him and his voice dropped as he said, "We will get through this, I promise. It is bad, but