I Started 2020 with a Concussion
Healing from an unseen injury, one day at a time
It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re skating at the local roller rink. There’s a good DJ today, the floor’s a bit slick, and there are dozens kids clomping across the floor in starter skates and PVC-walkers on wheels. It’s the last day of vacation before New Year’s Day and then it’s back to work we go, so I’m enjoying this last bit of downtime with my family before getting back to real life.
We’re an hour in, and I take a crossover just a little too deep. Before I know it, my wheels fly out from underneath me and I land on my ass, bracing myself with my palms as I hit the floor. Before the jolt fully hits me, I’m back on my feet, rattled but seemingly fine.
My partner skates to me and, after checking to make sure I’m ok, says, “That looked a lot like the last time you got a concussion.”
And in that moment, everything slows down.
In that moment, I can feel my heart thud in my chest.
Because it was exactly like the last time I got a concussion, five years ago during a roller derby practice. Same skates, same fall angle, same hop up and go. I didn’t hit my head then, either. But I remember the long and lingering headaches, the months of light and noise sensitivity as my concussion symptoms dragged on.
We break for snacks and while I register the barest of headaches, I feel fine. I tell myself I couldn’t possibly have a concussion, but I can’t shake the feeling of dread that’s taken root in my gut.
It’s not until we get home that I really start to feel it — the pressure in my head, the disorientation, the brain-melting fatigue, my heart humming away at about 90bpm all night long as my body triages the swelling bruise that has nowhere to expand.
Two days later, as my eyes jump around tracking my doctor’s finger, she tells me what I already know.
What exactly is a concussion?
If you were a child of the 80s (or earlier), concussions were generally thought to be no big deal…just a bump on the head, walk it off and you’ll be fine. Years (and tons of research) later, scientists now know that a concussion can be a very big deal. Concussions are, at their core, a traumatic brain injury (or TBI). Their onset can be sudden, but for some can happen gradually. Symptoms also tend to spike when we have too much stimuli — meaning that if you push it and don’t rest, you’ll have more symptoms for longer periods of time. That can ultimately lead to post concussion syndrome, which is when your symptoms continue for months after your original injury.
Unfortunately, a concussion is an injury that no one else can see and it can affect people who get them very differently. Even two different concussions in the same person can present differently. For example, with my first concussion, I had headaches, a little fuzzy brain, and light and sound sensitivity. My second concussion has been presenting with head pressure, neck soreness, nausea, disorientation, and difficulty processing visual stimuli.
And yet, unless someone who has a concussion is giving you a play by play of how they’re feeling, you’d never know someone was suffering from concussion symptoms. Unlike a broken arm or a sprained ankle, there’s no physical evidence of an injury that’s easily seen. It can make it harder for others to empathize with the person suffering from the concussion, and can make that person feel that they are unable to advocate for themselves because they don’t “look” sick or injured. So they push too far and worsen their condition or prolong their recovery.
What’s going well
I made many mistakes the first time I had a concussion, but a lot has happened in the last five years that has laid some good groundwork for recovery now.
1. I’m on a low-inflammatory diet.
When I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis three years ago, my doctor and I started me on a diet built to lower the inflammation in my body. This first took the form of a Whole 30 before I transitioned to full-time Paleo. I credit this diet for the noticeable lack of headaches during this concussion.
2. I have stress management strategies in place.
Self care has taken a front seat in the last few months, and I’d already been making it a priority meditate, journal, and walk regularly. All of these things are helping keep my brain calm and my body even-keeled.
3. I have the right support team.
The first time I had a concussion, I was seeing a different primary care physician (PCP) who referred me for an MRI and gave me little guidance on how to get better besides listen to your body (and back then, I didn’t really understand what that meant in a meaningful way).
This time around, my PCP immediately referred me to a local concussion clinic in the sports medicine program, and I am currently seeing a doctor who understands traumatic brain injury and how to treat it. I’m also doing physical therapy to reconnect my brain and my body, vision therapy to work on my visual processing, and have mental health support because there are psychological consequences to concussions as well.
4. I’m taking time to heal.
Last time, I greatly underestimated the time I’d need to heal. Because concussions happen so often in roller derby, I thought I’d be back to normal and skating in a couple of weeks (real stats: no less than a half dozen other skaters on my team also got concussions and resumed skating before I was fully healed). So I kept working in front of a computer screen all day, started skating sooner than I should have, and masked my symptoms with ibuprofen. This ended up pushing me into post concussion syndrome — I continued having symptoms for a total of six months after my original fall, which caused me to quit roller derby for good. With my current concussion, I’m asking for the time I need to actually step away and heal.
What’s not going so well
So it sounds like things are going great, right? Well, it’s still a concussion, which means that even with a good plan in place, healing is still a hell of a journey. And with that journey come a few bumps in the road.
1. Your body’s default reactions can work against you.
Looking at the clock, checking on my daughter, avoiding stepping on the cat, dodging toys. I never realized how many times a day I quickly turn my head to look at something, but my awareness is rapidly increasing. I have to constantly tell myself to slow down, in thought and action. Something as simple as knocking snow off my boot can rattle my brain.
2. Recovery requires minimal screens, reading, and thinking in general.
I read almost constantly. If I’m not reading, I’m working or parenting or relationshipping. Or, thinking, apparently. You don’t realize how much you do something until it’s no longer an option, and you’re left with a cavernous empty day to fill with “rest and relaxation.”
3. Knowing when to stop.
I am notorious for pushing myself further than I should. It’s an awful habit, and with a concussion, has very pronounced consequences. You want to plow that driveway? Be prepared to spend the next two hours on the couch (if you’re lucky).
4. Checking in with the ones who depend on us.
When we’re in the throes of rest and rehabilitation, it can be easy to get caught up in ourselves, especially when your kiddos and loved ones seem to be taking everything in stride. This weekend was a good reminder to me that my daughter was also experiencing some big emotions about my health and well-being that she was internalizing and causing her stress. I’m glad that we have a relationship where she felt safe to talk about those feelings with me, which led to us talking about how to process these big feelings and how to take care of ourselves when stressful things are happening in our life. I also checked in with her teacher to let her know what’s been going on so that’s daughter could get some extra support (and maybe a couple of bonus hugs) at school.
Healing is a journey
I’m not sure how long this concussion will last and what effects it will have long-term. I can only make the best decisions possible every day and take it one step at a time. Wish me luck.
