To this day I still feel the pain. Thump, thump, thump, throughout my entire day. “Hey -- thump -- how thump -- is -- thump -- your -- thump -- day?” As I go through my day, I can’t avoid the headaches. The light hurts my eyes. I can’t read for much longer than 20 minutes without bigger, louder and faster thumps. I go through my day with post-concussion syndrome squinting my eyes and carrying on. I don’t have a choice-- there is no cure and no way out. Thump, thump, thump…
The first snowfall of the year came late in the winter of 2014-2015. It was January and we had only seen a flurry or two here and there. I had slept at my best friend Amber’s the night before and woke up to about three inches already sticking to the road. My ex was texting me, she had been in an accident that morning. She lost control of her steering on the way to her mom’s house and she hit a guardrail, damaging the bumper on her 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee and the accident really put her in a state of shock. I was the closest person to her mom’s house and she really needed a friend-- she wanted to be comforted and she was afraid to drive. I lied to Amber, she never approved of Maddie and she would not have approved of me going to be her knight in shining armor. I told her I was going home because my mom didn’t want me driving as the roads got worse. On the way back from Amber’s house, instead of turning right on Main Street to head home, I took a hard left and was on my way to Maddie’s.
When I arrived she was a mess, a little broken down and in need of a friend. I stayed for a few hours, making her smile and cheering her up. We took a walk to calm her nerves and I could hardly stay on my feet because the roads were so bad. The longer I stayed, the worse the roads got, the heavier the snow began to fall, and the more afraid I was to get home.
I left at around one, feeling guilty and not sure how I was going to tell my girlfriend that I went to go comfort my ex, uncomfortable that I had lied to my best friend, and also petrified that my little 1999 Honda Civic seemed to be no match for Mother Nature. I was basically a snail getting home -- I’d never driven so slow in all my life.
Despite my speed, I seemed to be slipping and sliding all over the place with no way to stop and no way to gain control. I should have stopped driving. I should have called for help.
Next came the moment that changed the course of my life.
In an instant my entire world felt like it stopped. There was no helping what was going to happen next. I felt my tires lose control and the soft shoulder took control of both my car and what felt like my life. I tried to brake but there was no traction. I tried to turn, but the damage was already done. Eventually I closed my eyes as I was plummeting into the telephone pole, recognizing the number 39 on the pole as I did so.
I opened up my eyes in a panic, not sure how long they had been closed for. By the time I woke up there were already people surrounding my car. There was smoke in the air, so immediately I flashed back to any movie I had ever seen and assumed my car was about to explode. I scrambled out of my Civic and opened the door simply to fall into the street. People kept asking me if I was okay and I didn’t know what to say. It was like a dream where no matter how hard you try to speak, nothing comes out. I was disoriented and nothing felt real.
A woman ran outside, she was wearing matching pajamas pants and a top, pink with hearts if I remember correctly. Probably some kind of mother’s day gift I assumed. Her hair was in a small twirl with a clip holding it all together and she asked me to come inside. She seemed concerned amongst all the people bombarding me with questions. Without a word said, I walked towards the woman in pink and her home.
I didn’t know what was going on. I come from a small town where the police report usually revolves around calling animal control or the firemen saving cats from trees, so I wasn’t afraid to enter the home. As I did, they asked me questions and I didn’t have the words to answer. I nodded my head and agreed to whatever came next.
“Have you called your parents? Where are you from? Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
I called my parents, told them I was down the road. I kept saying sorry, my only emotion was fear I had let them down. I told the owners of the home that I wanted to go shut my car off, I had evacuated so quickly I hadn’t even pulled the keys out. I wanted to stand by my car. I wanted to see my parents. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, embarrassed, ashamed.
The cops arrived first and told me I had to get into the back of the squad car. I did as I was told and started to answer their questions.
“Where are you coming from? Are you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol? Were you wearing your seatbelt? Were you on your phone or texting?”
After these accusatory questions, I was told, “You know, though you weren’t above the speed limit you were driving too fast for conditions and I could technically give you a ticket.” Hearing that statement broke me. Tears rolled down my face and I realized then just how bad my head was spinning. I heard all of the reports coming in over the cop’s radio. Everything was amplified including my breathing, my voice and the lights in front of me.
Barreling down the road came my dad’s green pickup truck he got for his 60thbirthday. My heart dropped. I can’t imagine what they were thinking. They saw the scene more wholly than I did. They saw a broken telephone pole, a totaled car and their little girl in the back of a cop car.
I do not regret going to Maddie -- she was one of my best friends and I would go to her aid all over again. Maybe there are a lot of things I would do differently.
What happened next, you ask? I was rushed into an ambulance where they were urging me to go to the hospital. At this point in time, I had already endured my fair share of concussions and the paramedics were afraid of internal bleeding. I was terrified and wanted to get off the road. I trusted my dad’s pickup truck could more easily make it three minutes home than the ambulance thirty minutes to the hospital. I told the paramedics that I was positive I had a concussion and that I knew how to handle it. Despite their advice, I signed my release papers and asked to go home.
I suffered a concussion and was not cleared for another three months. Following these three months, came ongoing symptoms labeled as Post Concussion Syndrome (PCS) that to this day I can’t shake. Who knew telephone pole #39 on Still River Road could define my future athletic abilities, learning abilities, and pain level for over a year to follow. Decisions transform a lifetime and this is a day that has transformed the way I have had to make decisions ever since. I have to be more careful. I’m always trying to be aware of my head and its overall limitations. I can’t be as carefree as maybe I would like. I have learned that I am unable to simply just throw caution to the wind. After suffering from PCS, I learned to make wiser decisions in regard to my health. The potential of suffering another concussion changes the way I think. Traveling during snowstorms, playing contact sports and even simple activities such as going on a trampoline are no longer in the cards for me. PCS changed a lot in my life -- how I function and overall how I make choices has shifted and I am a different person because of it.
