from Jed Ortmeyer at The Players' Tribune,

I sat up in the exam room at the hospital and stretched my arms, trying to get my brain to relax. It was only chest pains. Our team trainer had told me the night before that they were probably being caused by dehydration or a pulled muscle, and I told myself over and over again that he was probably right.

I was fine … right?

I mean, I played in the NHL. I was a New York Ranger. Injuries are part of the game. No matter how I was feeling inside, I was going to be cool. The nurses ran their tests, and I was sure that soon they’d be back to tell me that everything was going to be fine.

Except I couldn’t stop thinking about the blood.

The day before, I had woken up from a long nap and started coughing up blood in the sink.

So I did what everybody does when they’re scared. I called my mom.

“Jed,” she said. “Call your trainer right now.”

“I really don’t think it’s that big of a deal. It’s past midnight.”

“I don’t care what time it is. Call your trainer. Right now.”

continued