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By Sally Jenkins, Published: October 21
At first, when Peyton Manning woke up from the anesthesia, he was relieved: The pain in the neck that he had lived with for years was gone. As he came to, he stirred in the hospital bed, took stock of his misery-free condition, and started to push himself upright. Then it happened — his right arm buckled beneath him. Surprised, he struggled again to sit up, and at that moment, he understood his career was in jeopardy.
It was May 2011, and Manning had checked into Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago for surgery on a herniated disc, a tear in the protective ring in his neck that had undermined his performance after 14 seasons with the Indianapolis Colts. The procedure was supposed to fix it, but now when he pushed himself up in bed, his right triceps was unable to bear his weight. Trying to contain his alarm, the most eminent quarterback in the NFL asked his surgeon what had happened to his arm. The surgeon explained that the disc had been pressing on a nerve. It would take some time for the irritation to subside, and for the nerve and muscle to come back alive.
But two weeks later, Manning’s arm still felt weak. By this time he noticed that the grip strength in his hand also appeared to be affected. “If any other part of your body has some weakness you go, ‘Well I can probably manage,’” Manning says. “But when you’re a quarterback and it’s your right hand, you’re certainly concerned far as being able to do your job.” His doctors discovered that he had re-herniated the disc, and Manning returned to the hospital for a second surgery, this one in virtual secrecy.
While he waited to heal, Manning largely disappeared from public view, unwilling to let anyone see his arm in such feeble condition. “I wasn’t just going to throw with anybody around watching,” he says. “I was guarded and protective.” The NFL was in the midst of a four-month labor lockout, which meant he couldn’t use the Colts’ facilities or trainers, so he looked for a place to rehab unobserved. His old college friend Todd Helton, then a first baseman with the Colorado Rockies, suggested he come out to Denver where he could work out secretly and get treatment from the Rockies’ trainers, who were accustomed to dealing with arms.
The first pass Manning threw post-surgery was to Helton, and they were so concerned with privacy that they went to an underground batting cage beneath the Rockies’ stadium. Helton took up a position about 10 yards away and held out his hands. Manning reared back, and threw.
“The ball nose-dived after about five yards,” Manning says.
It didn’t even make it halfway to Helton before it hit the ground. Helton burst out laughing — he thought Manning was joking.
“C’mon, quit kidding,” he said.
“Man, I wish I was,” Manning said
http://www.washingtonpost.com/sports...c3e_print.html
At first, when Peyton Manning woke up from the anesthesia, he was relieved: The pain in the neck that he had lived with for years was gone. As he came to, he stirred in the hospital bed, took stock of his misery-free condition, and started to push himself upright. Then it happened — his right arm buckled beneath him. Surprised, he struggled again to sit up, and at that moment, he understood his career was in jeopardy.
It was May 2011, and Manning had checked into Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago for surgery on a herniated disc, a tear in the protective ring in his neck that had undermined his performance after 14 seasons with the Indianapolis Colts. The procedure was supposed to fix it, but now when he pushed himself up in bed, his right triceps was unable to bear his weight. Trying to contain his alarm, the most eminent quarterback in the NFL asked his surgeon what had happened to his arm. The surgeon explained that the disc had been pressing on a nerve. It would take some time for the irritation to subside, and for the nerve and muscle to come back alive.
But two weeks later, Manning’s arm still felt weak. By this time he noticed that the grip strength in his hand also appeared to be affected. “If any other part of your body has some weakness you go, ‘Well I can probably manage,’” Manning says. “But when you’re a quarterback and it’s your right hand, you’re certainly concerned far as being able to do your job.” His doctors discovered that he had re-herniated the disc, and Manning returned to the hospital for a second surgery, this one in virtual secrecy.
While he waited to heal, Manning largely disappeared from public view, unwilling to let anyone see his arm in such feeble condition. “I wasn’t just going to throw with anybody around watching,” he says. “I was guarded and protective.” The NFL was in the midst of a four-month labor lockout, which meant he couldn’t use the Colts’ facilities or trainers, so he looked for a place to rehab unobserved. His old college friend Todd Helton, then a first baseman with the Colorado Rockies, suggested he come out to Denver where he could work out secretly and get treatment from the Rockies’ trainers, who were accustomed to dealing with arms.
The first pass Manning threw post-surgery was to Helton, and they were so concerned with privacy that they went to an underground batting cage beneath the Rockies’ stadium. Helton took up a position about 10 yards away and held out his hands. Manning reared back, and threw.
“The ball nose-dived after about five yards,” Manning says.
It didn’t even make it halfway to Helton before it hit the ground. Helton burst out laughing — he thought Manning was joking.
“C’mon, quit kidding,” he said.
“Man, I wish I was,” Manning said
http://www.washingtonpost.com/sports...c3e_print.html
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