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How Dr. Lauren Streicher Operates and Why I love Her

The team's athletic trainer called me at work about 3:30. I needed to get Colin to the emergency room as fast as possible. On the Tuesday after sectionals, what was initially thought to be a shin bruise, was now a dark purple, hot, swelling, gross mass, the size of a mango, or a small eggplant. And it was quickly spreading past the circle in indelible black marker the trainer drew on Colin's right leg with the time: 3:00 .

I left work within minutes and got to the hospital an hour or so later. We waited a while with the other dozen or more patients, including the 8-year-old girl encouraged by her mother to practice her recorder in the ER waiting room. Anyone who has had a kid in elementary school has had to listen to the scales crucified on the beige, plastic, cheap flute. Every sick person cringed. No one had the nerve to be direct.

But Colin asked the mother politely to have her child stop.

"No one wants to hear that right now," he said.

She balked.

"It's beautiful, but everyone in here is sick."

The little girl remained silent and a few others thanked Colin for his bravery. We were ushered in to an ER "room," and soon after the doctor saw Colin, who explained he was a wrestler, he was admitted for overnight intravenous antibiotics and observation. It turned out to be MRSA. It was very dangerous. In small amounts, MRSA is manageable. It's in your nostrils, it's on all the wrestling mats. Every sport battles with the contamination. Some sports more than others. Wrestling is one of them.

The quick version is the doctors lanced the wound, it was extremely painful for Colin, in spite of the morphin and the local antisthetic shots. The doctors extracted about 10 cc's of yuck, and yes, Colin took a video on his phone. He just might show it to you if you ask.

The best part is Coach Powell came to visit him. About 9 o'clock that night, after he had a long day of teaching and coaching. He had time for one of his wrestlers.

"You have to get better, Colin, you're a key player."

Colin didn't get better quickly. While he didn't qualify for individual state, he did not get to go with the team to Champaign, where his teammates, Chris and Nick Dardannes and Sammy Brooks, each won first place medals. Benny Brooks took third. Charlie Johnson and LaQuan Hightower were contenders. Colin had to keep his leg elevated with warm compresses. Sitting in the cramped stands for two days would make him even sicker.

Ben Brooks, Chris Dardanes, Sam Brooks, Charlie Johnson, LaQuan Hightower, Nick Dardanes

Colin missed wrestling in team sectionals on Tuesday, where Oak Park prevailed. He was hoping he could be well enough to wrestle at Team State in Bloomington this last Saturday. He wasn't, he could never have passed a skin test. By the time team state rolled around, it was scaling and still red.

But he wrapped the wound and went to Team State on the bus with the team. We lost to Minooka. But Coach Powell talked to the boys, many of whom were extremely distraught. And like he always does, Coach Powell gave them perspective.

I drove home with Brendan and Liam's mom, Danne. Brendan was on the phone with one of his teammates from the 2009 team.

"What did Coach Powell say to the team?"

"I didn't get to hear it," Brendan said. "But I bet it was really great."

It was a very good year. I put the sheet cake I brought with me to Bloomington in the freezer. We won state last year and I bought a cake for that too. We ate it as champions. This year I was careful with the wording, not wanting to be arrogant, presumptive.

"Congratulations for a Huskies style year."

The cake will stay in the freezer until the end of the year banquet where Powell acts like Powell and shows all of us why we belong to this wrestling family. It will be in a few weeks when all of us can look back with a little distance and completely agree on why this all means the world to all of us.

Caryn emailed me the photo.

I didn't see it until I had already landed in San Francisco, a trip to visit three undergraduate students on media internships from the Medill School of Journalism.

Colin is absolutely glowing. He won first place at 119 pounds. I left for the airport from St. Ignatius High School at 2 p.m. to catch a 5 p.m. flight out. I saw him get his first two wins. I knew he would be the champion. Still, I didn't see the smile in person.

There is very little I can do for my 16-year-old son in his life to make him smile that widely. His favorite meal after a tournament--maybe-- a joke, a small gift, a verbal reminder that I love him immensely. But he is responsible for that moment of intense pride. It wasn't handed to him, he didn't inherit it, it didn't land on him when he opened the window. It certainly did not come from me. And I get chills witnessing the satisfaction he reaps from the fruits of his own determination.

Colin won regional champion at 119 pounds last week. At noon, his older brother Brendan, called me on my cell from his college dorm room in Indiana to see how Colin was faring. Just then a "restricted call" clicked in on my call waiting. It was his oldest brother, Weldon, calling from Madrid, where he is on study abroad, seeing how Colin was faring. Odd to say, but it was a wonderful family moment.

Some families go on cruises. Some families have picnics. Some families play board games. Mine is a wrestling family. My sons compete on the mat by themselves. Perhaps the other two boys are there watching from the sidelines. Along with all the other mothers, I sit in the stands. Sometimes I take the brothers' calls asking what is happening on the mat. And everytime I am in a warm high school gymnasium somewhere in the Midwest, I hope that on this day, one of my boys has a smile that reaches from here to the end of the world.

That day it was Colin. And yes, it was a very good day for me.

Watch a video of the wrestlers at Oak Park and River Forest High School as they work out in the weight room.