As a volleyball player you pray for the moment when the game changes your life. You hope that a scout or at the very least your teammates will be there to witness your glory. It takes one fantastic play to make those around you see your potential. While volleyball is a team sport each individual thirsts for the opportunity to prove themselves--- I know I did. I hungered for the ball, for the chance to become someone extraordinary.
On October 31, 2021 the game changed my life, and not in the way I’d hoped. The ball impacted my eye and flashes of darkness swallowed me as I stumbled backward. As I desperately tried to regain my footing, dizziness and an intense weighted feeling was adamant to interfere. I received the official diagnosis of a concussion later that evening.
The days in bed spiralled into weeks, and the weeks into months. I could not make it ten steps out of bed, take a shower or brush my teeth without assistance. I struggled to walk and to hold a conversation. My life fell apart all the while we deluded ourselves into thinking it would pass. It took two months for the doctor to finally request an MRI.
I began to question everything. A clean scan left the doctors around me stymied. I wondered if I’d forever lost my independence. At a time when my life was supposed to be taking off, I was relearning how to walk to the end of the street. The probability of graduating and going to prom were practically zero to none. The fear of missing out ate away at me.
I was eventually sent to partake in vestibular therapy sessions. The aim was to reposition the crystals in my inner ear that were supposedly instigating a constant dizziness. After each maneuver my parents had to carry me back to the car. Each session was followed by an aggressive fit of nausea and a desire to sleep. Over the course of the next few months, a total of seven maneuvers were completed, each followed by a week in bed and practically a complete loss of function. It was eventually brought to our attention that each one of those seven maneuvers had been done incorrectly, having done more harm than good.
After finding a doctor who had performed the procedure properly, my condition took a drastic turn for the better. I began working with a team of professionals ---namely an occupational therapist and neurologist--- who helped me to cope with my symptoms. I had to schedule time in my day for reading, walking and watching T.V. to build up my tolerance for the real world. It was during this time that it was suggested I attempt to virtually complete a math course. Although I gave it my absolute all, my symptoms were adamant to interfere. I didn’t finish all of the material in the allotted time, but that didn’t stop me from working through the rest over the course of the summer. The opportunity to complete the course as well as the encouragement I received from my math teacher played a vital role in my recovery. The feeling of normalcy ---however miniscule--- had renewed itself in my life, and it ushered in a sense of accomplishment after so much defeat.
However difficult, the injury had helped to shape my character. I learned to advocate for myself time and time again. But perhaps most valuable, it offered me an opportunity to take a step back from the busyness of my life. I developed a novel admiration for the little moments in life. And somehow, throughout all of the pain I did not lose my light. I discovered a renowned sense of appreciation for my family and friends that acted as my pillars of strength in my greatest moments of uncertainty.
The following year I returned to school. My symptoms, however much improved, left me heartbroken to have missed out on both prom and graduation. My second year after having sustained the injury taught me some of the harshest and most valuable of lessons. I learned which battles were worth fighting and which should be left to rest. With all odds seemingly against me, I discovered that anything was possible if I was only willing enough. I would not have been able to finish that year of school if it wasn’t for the accommodations I was granted. They allowed me to push myself all the while granting the opportunity to rest whenever the need arose. They permitted me to make progress in both academics and my recovery; they made me feel as though I was on a level playing field.
I’d made stellar progress in the beginning of first semester when I was hit with an aggressive set back in early May. I scrambled to stay on top of things as I again deteriorated. My head spun and an intense heaviness left me unable to leave my bed. I eventually returned to school three weeks later drowning in due dates and tasks. It was at this point that I seriously considered dropping out of school. The constant support and understanding of my teachers made a world of a difference. Despite frequent breaks, I was so dizzy I could barely hold myself upright. I could not stand to concentrate in class so much so I found myself overwhelmed with nausea at the end of every period. I could not read--- the letters jumbled and I found myself subconsciously skipping over them. When my brain formed coherent sentences from the mess of letters, the information refused to register. I had to use low prescription reading glasses to aid me in writing my tests. With solid support from my family and teachers I worked to adopt creative approaches to tackle the problems I was faced with. Although immensely turbulent, I made it through the year.
After months of doctors prescribing the basic remedy of time I sought renewed treatment for my vestibular system. A doctor in Ottawa performed one more maneuver and uncovered concrete evidence of how my visual system had been impacted by my concussion. After months of uncertainty this doctor finally gave me the answers I needed. He began to treat the root issue and I have made significant progress since.
The game changed my life. Although I will never play again, I will forever savour the joy volleyball brought me. I have accepted the whirlwind of a journey it set me on. I have accepted that it made me stronger. The game took the life I knew away. But perhaps now I could work to rebuild a better one. Although not in the way I once planned, I have proven myself, and I have witnessed first-hand the glory of my little hard-earned victories.
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