It's All In My Head... Well, Kind Of...

*I started writing this a long time ago, I just got around to finishing it and posting it...*

Thursday night (September 26th) we had a softball game against Auburn at home. Top of the 4th inning. We were winning 11-0. There were two outs, and I was playing center field. Our time expired at the end of the 3rd inning; we all heard the timer go off. Morgan pitched a strike, it was a high strike so when the girl swung, so hit the bottom part of the ball with the top part of the bat. This caused the ball to go VERY high in the air with a dreadful spin. I started hustling into the in-field... That stupid ball was going to land right behind second base and short-stop. It technically should have been the left-fielder's ball, but she wasn't paying attention. I ran so that I was within the usual 45 degree angle that you are supposed to take when you catch a fly ball. I was "Camped under it" (a softball term for "standing and waiting for it to fall into your glove") for about 4 or 5 seconds. I lost it in the sun for a little while, but then I found it again. I was sure that the stupid ball was going into my glove. I don't exactly remember how it happened, but somehow it missed my glove and hit me right above the bridge of my nose in between my eyebrows. A sharp pain went through my entire body. I instantly felt like I was going to throw up and fall over; I could barely stand. I closed my eyes and saw spots for a while, but I could still hear people yelling, running, and collectively saying "oh". I opened my eyes to see Sierra, a girl in Rudy's class who is our short-stop, saying, "How many fingers, babe? How many fingers do you see?" The base umpire was doing the same thing. I couldn't even think, so I shut my eyes again until I heard Coach Bob. He was asking me all kinds of questions, but he wasn't making any sense. I tried answering, but apparently I wasn't making any sense either. He asked me if I could walk, I told him that I hadn't tried yet. He wrapped his arm around me and practically carried me off of the field. He set me down on the bench, and then a flood of people swarmed me. Everyone was asking me all kinds of questions that I just couldn't give answers to. Coach Isaacs was there, as well as Mr. Wentz (a family friend and the middle school principal), Sam Parde's dad who is an EMT, Coach Bob, my sister Elle, and my Mom. They put ice on my forehead, and then I heard Coach Isaacs tell Mom, "If this was my daughter, I would get her out of here right now and get her to the Emergency Room." Within a few seconds I could hear Mom on the phone, "Hello, it's Shanna, I am on my way to your ER with my 16 year old. Possible concussion. Nauseous. Difficulty breathing. Conscious. Have a room ready for her." Two men carried me to the golf cart that they use to take elderly people up and down the long walk-way to get into the field. Mom kept asking me where my keys were and where all of my stuff was. I answered the best that I could, but I'm not exactly sure what I said. Mom loaded me into her car with the help of a few other people. She put my softball sweat towel over my head and then told me to hold the ice pack. That was the most terrible car ride I have ever experienced. I get car-sick VERY easily, and it didn't help that Mom was in a hurry, I was already nauseous, and that I couldn't see. I almost threw up. I was shuffled into a wheelchair, and as we entered the Emergency Room I heard a lot of familiar voices. There was Donna, a family friend of ours who is a nurse at the hospital. Doug, a nurse that Mom worked with when was the Director of Pharmacy at that hospital. Carla, the PA at the hospital. All of the emergency rooms were full, so they put me in a regular room. They ran all kinds of tests and asked me all kinds of questions. After a long string of questions Carla left the room and then came back a few minutes later. She told me that I had a concussion. She also said that I would not be able to play softball, dance on dance team, or march in marching band. I was crushed. I started crying. After they finished my paperwork, mom and I left the hospital and went home. I fell asleep and didn't wake up for a long time.

Mom decided to keep me home from school on Friday, which was completely understandable... my ability to focus resembled some orange/green substance that you might find squashed in a trash can somewhere in the mid.... SQUIRREL.... yup, that is exactly what my ability to focus was like. That morning I slept in really late, and then, while enjoying the peace and quiet, finished all of my English 3 homework, scanned it on to my laptop, and emailed it to my teacher. That afternoon, wearing my SHS dance team uniform with pride, I went to Savannah's house to get ready for the football game. (She is a senior on Dance Team.) The entire team was happy to see me and they all kept staring at my forehead. There was a little bruise but not one that was extremely noticeable. After that we all went to the football game together. I was really hoping that word hadn't spread about my concussion because it was a rather embarrassing experience. But much to my displeasure, word had definitely spread. All of the teachers knew as well as all coaches and administrative personnel. It's amazing how fast something can spread through a small school. John came up to me and hugged me right away. "Holy crap, I heard about your head? Are you okay? Please tell me you can march. We can't afford another whole in our drill, especially with Columbus next week." John is the perfect best friend. His warm embrace and charmingly egotistic personality just lifted my rather depressed attitude. A few minutes later Matt and Kade came running at me. They were searching through the air shouting "I got it! I got it!". Then Matt made a "clunk" noise and then fell over. They were making fun of me. "Hey, Stazia, you know that brown thing in your hand when you play softball, yeah, that's your glove... USE IT!", Matt said through a fit of laughter. After glaring at him for a solid 10 seconds, he finally apologized and hugged me. At the start of the football game, all of the dance team members went to warm up and stretch, I stayed to watch the game with my friends. I was kind of glad that the junior high band was doing pep band that night, I don't think I could have handled all of the noise. During halftime when my team took the field to dance, I stood down in front on the track. I watched intently and cried a little bit. I had finally passed my test out for that dance, and I had worked so hard to learn it, and I didn't even get to perform. I left soon after half time, and I went home and went straight to bed.

The next week was torture. Not only could I not play softball, but I couldn't dance a Dance Team practice, and I couldn't march in band. It was so hard to focus, especially during College Algebra and Chemistry. My teachers were very gracious and often let me wait to take tests/quizzes and a few of them even let me take a nap during class if my head hurt. That Tuesday, during 8th period, I was in Poe's office, and I fell asleep listening to All State music, I slept for almost an hour before Matt came into Poe's office after school and thought I was dead. Ms. Poe just said, "No, her brain is broken, so she is letting it rest." I had to leave a few minutes later for our softball game in JCC that I didn't even get to play in. That morning at early band, someone made a comment like "You should be able to march with a concussion. Why are you just standing there?" Unfortunately, I let my emotions get the best of me and I flipped out. "You have no idea how much it is killing me to just stand there while you guys are marching. Don't you think that if I could be out there, I would? I would give anything to march, to dance, or to play softball, but I can't. So back off." At the end of this rant, I was in tears and Mr. Parde came over and yelled at the person that made the rude comment. The whole band was silent. After rehearsal, a lot of people came up to me and congratulated me for putting that rude person in his place. I just felt terrible.

Wednesday (the 2nd of October) I went in for my check up with the doctor. He made me retake my concussion test on the computer, and then he did a series of physical tests. I PASSED! In fact, one of the areas on my test improved, which was a little odd. I was able to play in my last softball game of the season on that Monday, although coach was worried about me so he didn't put me in much.

Since then, I have days when my head will hurt REALLY bad, and there are days when I am just completely out of it. I didn't think that the side affects would stick around this long, but they did. Moral of this story, use your glove, not your head.