Concussion survivors: ‘You are not alone’

By Mary-Simone Collazo

Concussions are not just little bumps on the head that you get over in a couple days—they can derail lives. September was Concussion Awareness Month, and yet too many students, athletes and young people are told to “push through” their pain. I know how dangerous that mindset is because a concussion almost destroyed my life when I was 17.

It was a frigid Thanksgiving night in 2018. Following dinner at a family member’s house, my older sister Rachel, my older brother Philip and I were dropped off at our house with nothing to do and no parental supervision, so we decided to go early Black Friday shopping. 

I was searching frantically for my wallet, and my siblings were already in Rachel’s car, blowing up my phone to tell me they were going to leave me behind if I did not hurry up. As I sprinted to the car parked at the edge of our townhouse complex’s parking lot, it slipped my mind that it had snowed earlier that day. The ground sparkled with the malicious gleam of black ice.

I made it to the car just as my sister had finished warming up the engine. In my last step, my foot met the ice. I slipped, and my head collided with the car door. A blood-curdling scream escaped my mouth. Excruciating pain filled my skull, like an angry elf hitting my frontal cortex with an axe. 

Rachel and Philip did not hear the sound of my skull meeting the metal, but they certainly heard me sobbing, “I hit my head” repeatedly when I crawled into the back seat. Not realizing how I had gotten the injury, they asked me repeatedly if I wanted to go to the hospital. It was my choice. I refused. I had gotten injured plenty of times before. This was nothing; I could suck it up and push through the pain. Spoiler alert — that was a bad idea. This mindset — to “push through” is exactly why so many concussions go untreated.

I was in bed all of Thanksgiving break with a massive migraine — the first of many I would experience. When I returned to school on Monday, the fluorescent lights of the building felt like looking directly into the sun. My head pounded. The world spinned; I could barely tell my left from my right. The classroom felt like an oven, even though it was about to be December. The volume of the cafeteria might as well have been at a rave, with how much my eardrums were bursting. I was a Youth Group Leader at my church and the sentences of my Bible study prep notes were swimming around the pages; I could barely read. 

I felt like a stranger in my own brain and body. Of course, I could not go to gym class by default — too physical when you have been injured. But my other classes sounded like they were being taught in a different language. I could not go to band practice after school because my muscle memory that I needed for the flute just was not … there. 

I went home early because of how much torment I was in, and told my mom and dad. My parents immediately made a doctor’s appointment for me to get approved for an MRI. The doctor, upon reviewing the MRI results, deduced that this was a “mild” concussion and I would be back to normal in a month. 

That was when I was a senior in high school. Would you believe me if I told you that I am now 24, and I still experience several of the symptoms I described above? About 2 months later, I was diagnosed with Post-Concussion Syndrome, a neurological condition stemming from the brain not healing properly after a concussion, where the effects linger so long that they become the survivor’s new normal. That “new normal” could last for months, even years, after the initial injury. According to the Concussion Legacy Foundation, about 20% of concussion victims are diagnosed with PCS.

There may be more, but unfortunately, many suffer in silence. I was one of the lucky ones. My family, friends and teachers were all very supportive. My parents found fantastic doctors who took me seriously, and they took me to every appointment, no matter the distance or cost. I had to go to every type of therapy one can imagine: physical, vision, vestibular, cognitive rehabilitation. You name it, I probably went to it. Your brain is the center of your nervous system; when that is shaken up by a hit to the head, depending on how hard the impact, your entire body’s functions can be thrown off balance.

With the thousands of hours I spent in doctors’ offices, I was shocked to discover how many concussions are not taken seriously, especially in the athletic world. I was a competitive swimmer, but I was not in season at the time of my fall. My concussion happened from a fall on a slippery sidewalk, a stroke of bad luck, and that was taken seriously by almost everyone in my life. So why do we not take it seriously in sports where head impact happens several times per practice, like in football or hockey?

Oftentimes, we are surrounded by this “suck it up and get back to normal” mindset, especially in America. The game, the job, the club, the class — those obviously are all more important than taking care of ourselves. Going to the doctor or hospital for a mere whack to the head is dramatic, right?

That was certainly my first thought when I hit my head. I just wanted to feel slightly better so I could get back to normal, to friends, clubs and planning for senior prom and graduation. But I could not go back to “normal” with the new depression, anxiety and chronic migraines that had developed since I hit my head. 

With the physical torment came mental torment, and I had to go to psychotherapy as well, where I got the help needed for the mental health issues that had arisen with my injury and diagnosis. I remember crying in my mom and dad’s arms, confessing the scary thoughts that had entered my head since I had gotten hurt and my body no longer felt like my own. I am forever grateful that they believed me and took my thoughts seriously, and thankful to myself that I spoke up for myself when I was hurting.

The Concussion Legacy Foundation has an entire interactive webpage dedicated to the stories of victims of concussions, PCS and Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy — a disease where the brain starts to degenerate after repeated concussions. Sadly, many of the names in the stories are of victims who took their own life, as the pain became too much to bear. There is a direct link between concussions and suicidal thoughts, as 80% of patients with PCS report severely struggling with their mental health.

I have rebuilt my life the past 7 years and can now genuinely say I am happy again, despite still dealing with migraines and brain fog. Yet it terrifies me to think what may have happened to me if I did not speak up for myself, and if my family, friends, educators and doctors did not take me seriously when I said “I am hurting.” 

I only got one concussion and it derailed my life. I cannot imagine the thousands who are suffering in silence because they believe the lie that they should just “push through” or “suck it up.” Concussions are serious, not “mild”, and we need to start treating them that way.

Students need to know it is OK to ask for accommodations. Athletes must be encouraged to speak up without the fear of being benched. Professors and employers should take invisible injuries seriously. 

Why? You only get one brain. You only get one life. 

You are not alone.

If you are in pain, I beg of you, one survivor to another: Tell someone.  And if a survivor has confided in you: Believe them, and do something about it

Your life is worth it — don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, even yourself.

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, suicide or substance use-related concerns, the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline is available 24/7 by calling or texting the number 988.

Mary-Simone Collazo is a junior journalism major