There has been a lot of talk lately about concussions, their long-term effects and what can be done about them. There is more information and resources available than ever before, which is leading to changes like more people wearing helmets on the slopes.
This is great and a step in the right direction. However, our culture, especially mountain life culture, puts so much emphasis on doing it all, getting back in the game and pushing through.
As a result, there is an intrinsic social pressure to skip the most important step in rehabilitation: rest. Simple, do nothing, dark rest.
The truth is that getting back to work, onto the slopes or even on your phone too soon can cost you more than you think. This was a tough lesson that I had to learn myself.
For a while, it cost me everything and, at least for the foreseeable future, there are some things I will never get back.
My first concussion was at the age of seven in Calgary and involved my favourite bike, our racing hill and some serious aerodynamics ending with me launched over the handle bars, head first with no helmet.
Over the years I have had two more major concussions and several minor ones. I had little-to-no information and being in my 20s and having serious FOMO (fear of missing out) I didn’t stop to listen to my body, rest or get checked out properly.
That is, until my body had enough.
I was already having issues with brain fog, sleeping, concentration and digestion when I went on a trip to Vietnam with my little sister. We were on a motorbike tour outside of Da Lat when our bike slipped out sideways in some sand.
I was driving and went over right on my side, bouncing my helmeted head (yes, I was wearing a helmet) off the pavement. My sister tore up her hands and I was more immediately concerned with her.
Not wanting to ruin the trip for anyone else, I continued, but began to get dizzy and nauseated as the day progressed. By the next day, I could barely hold myself upright and was short of breath walking up the stairs to our room.
I semi rested the next few days before heading back home.
Back in Vancouver, I did see a few practitioners such as my osteopath, energy healer and naturopath about the symptoms, but I was too terrified to slow down. How could I?
Life and the world around me was moving forward and there were so many things to be involved in.
I had just met an amazing crew of girls to shred with, having spent the past few seasons mostly solo.
All my hard entrepreneurial work was paying off and my personal training company was booming.
I had met the most amazing man and our relationship was founded on adventures, fun and outdoor activities. Slow down? Rest? Yeah, right!
At first, I fought through the nausea, headaches and brain fog to keep my life going. I am stubborn as hell and as I look back now on what I pushed through, it is a little terrifying what I forced myself to live with every day.
I wasn’t enjoying life or feeling good, but by gosh I sure as hell wasn’t missing out! I worked, I went out, I played on the slopes, but slowly things got worse and worse.
My vision began to tunnel in and I would have to stop every few seconds on the mountain as I felt so nauseous.
It was as though my helmet was crushing my head.
I couldn’t sleep and had trouble learning and focusing. I lost my sense of humour and even the ability to have a conversation.
My self-esteem plummeted as my physical ability dwindled and my body betrayed me. My body had enough and forced me to slow down and then stop since I was too stubborn to listen to it from the beginning.
Over the past three years, I had to cut my workload down to about 50 per cent. As a sole proprietor without disability, I could not stop completely.
The difference was that now I spent every dollar and every extra moment on trying to heal. I rested hours and hours during the day in between clients, trying to give my brain what I should have in the first place.
I estimate that I have had to dark rest for between 2,500 and 3,000 hours over the past three years, in addition to sleep.
That is a lot of life to have to give up. I have seen three physiotherapists, a sports medicine doctor, five osteopaths, two energy healers, three RMTs, a sports optometrist, four counsellors, a cognitive psychiatrist and a naturopath.
Today, after spending enough to put a down payment on a nice Whistler townhouse, I am at about 90 per cent.
I can ski and surf again with minimum to moderate symptoms afterwards, depending on the day. I cannot, however, enjoy a full day. My personality has returned and to my mom’s despair, my sarcastic wit is unaltered.
I am sleeping, learning and living better. However, my diagnosis is permanent post concussive and I still have symptoms everyday.
Concussions happen.
What I have learned is that the first 24 to 72 hours are when you can make the biggest impact on how long the concussion will affect your life.
When you get concussed, you need immediate rest and no stimulation. Your body is smart and it starts trying to heal the brain immediately.
To do this, there must be no stimulation and that means no TV, books or phone. Not even music. Draw the shades, stay in bed and let your body do its thing.
This will be the hardest thing you ever do. I promise. Disconnecting and doing absolutely nothing is so hard for us in this day and age. However, it is exactly what is necessary.
- Welcome to our new monthly feature of personal essays from our community. Our goal is to collect tales from all over the valley to showcase the compelling characters in our midst.
If you would like to contribute please email [email protected].
