My name is Lauren Creighton. The last few years, I have been dealing with concussions and Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS).

Before my concussions, I played soccer my entire life. Whether it was playing on the field, cheering on my teammates, watching professional games, or even playing FIFA, soccer was my true passion. I started playing around the age of three, which sparked my interest in the sport. I fell in love with the game and continued with club/competitive teams as I grew older.

I have had four concussions in my lifetime, all before the age of 18, and was diagnosed with PCS after my most recent one. I have been on a rollercoaster of recovery these last few years, searching for information, doctors, answers, and hope.

My last concussion happened in the beginning of my junior year of high school. I was playing in a scrimmage with my club team, five minutes were left in the game. It was a corner kick, and I was in the right spot for the ball to reach me. The ball came and I instinctively headed it. Immediately after, my head began to throb. I finished playing the last three or so minutes of the game and told my coach. He had no reason to think I had a concussion, nor did my teammates, and so I believed it as well. “How could just a header give me a concussion, when people do it all the time?” I told myself.

However, on my drive home, things went south. Sensitivity to light and sound, nausea, and a headache followed the practice. I knew the concussion symptoms like the back of my hand from previous ones, so this was a horrible familiar feeling. I knew I was going to have to heal from this concussion, but I did not know how long the recovery would take and how that would be my last real game of soccer.

I immediately struggled with the physical symptoms, which were followed by the emotional struggles. It was a rollercoaster of pain and healing. Some days were so bad I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. I remember laying there almost all of Christmas break my junior year because I couldn’t do anything else.

My symptoms slowly got better, but every time I tried to do anything more in my recovery, it felt like I was stuck, and all my symptoms would return. I had to see a neurologist and a neuro-optometrist to heal my eyesight problem. My tracking had been affected, as one of my eyes had a slower reaction time than the other one. With some new PT exercises, I made great progress with my vision challenges. After this, I gained hope I was going to be fine. But when I tried to go outside, workout, or even walk into Target, my hypersensitivity to light and sound made normal activities impossible. I had pressure headaches and tingling on the top of my head. Because of these physical symptoms, my emotional and mental health took a toll. I fell into a spiral of isolation. I could barely describe what I was experiencing, which caused me to become frustrated with my circumstances. I was tired of feeling hurt, alone, and exhausted. I felt as though nobody knew what I was feeling, and because of this, I thought I would never get better. My hope was starting to fade. There were days where my symptoms were so bad I would have to lay in my dark room with no sound, no light, and just lay for hours. I was hurting so much, and the worst part was I couldn’t explain how I was feeling to anyone.

One of the hardest parts of this journey was the loss of soccer. The idea of never playing again really began to sink in, and it hurt. People never tell you how much giving up a sport to an injury feels like, and I was not prepared. I regretted the practices I had skipped in the past and wished I could go back and play a few more times. This was also during COVID-19, so the isolation was worse since I couldn’t see many people. And even when I was able to see friends, my symptoms would flare up and I wouldn’t be in the mood to hang out.

I lost a lot of friends during this time, especially because I was not able to be there for my soccer team. My friends didn’t understand the extent of my injury. I was struggling with a lot of “what-ifs” and questions that dominated my frustration. I was asking myself, “Why was I taking so long to heal? Why can other people have concussions and be ‘fine?’ Why was this all happening right now?” These thoughts spiraled inside my head, and I lived with regret. I was struggling with anxiety and depression, but I didn’t recognize that was what it was. My pain got to the point where I wished I had never even played the sport I had once loved. I just wanted to feel normal again.

My symptoms lasted for a long time, and I was searching frantically on the internet for some sort of answer as to why I was struggling so much. I did weeks of endless Google searches on concussion information and anything to educate myself on the topic. After a while, I came across the Concussion & CTE Foundation. Reading all of the Foundation’s resources and their Inspiring Stories dramatically helped me. I was able to relate to others and see how they described certain symptoms I was experiencing too. I showed this to my family, and it gave me hope to finally be able to describe what I was going through.

During this time, I got into another (new) neurologist and a concussion specialist and was diagnosed with PCS. This diagnosis, although not positive news, brought me relief as I was able to pin a reason down as to why I had been struggling for so long. I knew from here I was going to get better. I was determined. I worked alongside my concussion specialist for months. By the end of it, I was feeling almost brand new. The day I was released from PT was such a momentous moment. I had put in the work to get better, and it had finally paid off.

Now, I am not saying I am completely healed yet, as I still struggle with the mental side effects. I have a lot of anxiety regarding my brain health. I try to take care of myself by working out (to the extent I can), hanging out with friends and family, and other activities that bring me joy. Focusing on the positives and reducing stress in your life can help a lot. Through my research, I was able to better understand concussions and PCS.

During my recovery journey, I also discovered that I was born with Chiari malformation, which is a brain disorder that can affect your day-to-day life. I am now aware of the obstacles in front of me and am adapting to live in a safe way, while still having fun. I am beyond grateful for the resources I was able to find when starting my research, and without them I am not sure if I would be in the same place I am today.

Some of the best advice I received was to take one day at a time. Personally, I am someone who struggles with this idea, as I think about the future a lot. But when I switched to this mindset, I was able to clearly focus on the things I can control right now. So, what I would recommend to anyone dealing with concussions or PCS is to try and take each day one day at a time. Focus on the positives, especially the small, little things we tend to overlook in our everyday lives. Reach out for help. With the right resources and a strong support group, you will get better. Going through this journey alone would not have been possible for me. Luckily, I had some of the greatest support from my family and hope with my faith. Because my story has had so many ups and downs, it’s turned me into a more grateful person. Finding the Concussion & CTE Foundation’s stories truly helped me get through the hardest parts of this journey, and is why I want to share my story as well. I hope anyone reading this knows they are not alone and are not making these symptoms up in your head. It does get better. Reach out to people and get the resources you need!

“You typically get the testimony after someone has made their way to the other side of healing. Well, I’m right in the midst of it all, and now serve as my own shelter from the storm.”

1. What did you know about concussions while playing youth sports?
I didn’t know what a concussion was until I suffered one in 10th grade. My coaches at the time weren’t educated on the impact of head injuries; I learned through trial and error. A goal line stop that put our team in position to win became a stale joke from my head coach: “Don’t knock yourself out again!” Having complete disregard for my body as a defender was praised. My senior year superlative was, “Most likely to give someone whiplash.” I figured it was a part of the game and came with the territory. “You’re either the hammer or the nail…”

I also remember my brother taking a hit on the sideline during a preseason youth game. I jumped the ramp and ran onto the field because I immediately knew what happened. A concussion ended his playing career. He was probably a bigger football fan than me so to see him call it quits weighed on my spirit for a while. He didn’t have the same enthusiasm for the game after that.

2. You suffered two concussions this past season that led to Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS). What was that experience like? 
Concussions are unfortunately a part of the game, but they aren’t always reported as such. There is more research being done to remove the head from the tackle and protect the defenseless player. You see guys now wearing neck collars, and some teams requiring Guardian Caps over helmets during practice. It’s a pretty nuanced topic in my opinion. Players playing through concussions is also a prevalent part of football culture. We all saw the situation with Tua Tagovailoa and what was blatantly apparent as negligence. There is neglect within the current concussion protocol across the board. As a professional athlete we are conditioned to focus on the main thing no matter what, which is our job security. There’s a quote I’ve heard my entire career from coaches: “The best ability is availability.” This is the same mentality carried by athletes who play through injuries. You can’t secure a job if you’re not available to perform.

The number one priority should be player safety. Every level of football should be intentional about enacting player safety measures. I can relate from personal experience. I suffered two concussions in back-to-back games, where the second could’ve been avoided had I healed fully before returning to play. I was told I cleared protocol without a concussion, so I was unsure why I didn’t feel normal. I voiced my emotional distress as my anxiety intensified. I soon learned that this injury isn’t understood by many in the profession. There is still a lack of education from all involved including players. You can’t suppress and fight your way through a brain injury. You will be forced to surrender as your body heals. I now tell myself every day, “Quality of life is more important than job security.”

3. How did things progress from the first concussion to the second? Did you experience any symptoms?
After the first hit my body went limp from the neck down. I was able to get up after a few seconds and stumbled a bit looking to see if anyone saw from the sideline. That’s when the referee pulled me from the game to be checked for a concussion. I was told I cleared protocol and was allowed to return to the field. I suddenly was no longer able to manage emotions as my anxiety spiraled downward from there. The game ended and my frustration was at an all-time high. A week later I lost consciousness on impact during a second hit and couldn’t remember anything as I walked out of the medical tent. Chronic headaches, light sensitivity, and brain fog were symptoms that lasted long enough for my team to place me on IR for the remainder of the season. I had to completely detach from my normal life and start from scratch in my recovery.

4. How has your PCS affected relationships with teammates, friends, family, and people close to you?
There is a sense of loneliness dealing with PCS because it removes you from your normal headspace. It’s an invisible weight I carried on my shoulders daily. My dreams were sinister, so nightfall brought immense anxiety. I became emotionally dysregulated and drifted in survivor mode. Thankfully my faith has kept me upright. As self-sufficient as I am, I’m not afraid to ask for help when I’ve done all I can on my own. The relationships with my family and teammates have kept me levelheaded during this time. It’s very easy to slip into depression when you thrive in solitude. I made the necessary adjustments and stuck around people who cared about me. There is truth in the saying, “The lone wolf dies.” You can’t get through this alone without a solid community around you.

5. People often say athletes know what they sign up for in regard to concussion awareness. Do you think athletes are aware of the impact concussions can have, especially if not treated properly?
Athletes don’t always think about it, but we take the risk every time we step on the field. We all expect to be treated properly and it doesn’t always happen post-concussion. Everything is reactive instead of proactive. Player safety isn’t seriously considered until someone’s pockets are hurt, life threatening injuries occur, or a player dies. I always say it’s the responsibility of those involved to make yourself aware of the risks you take playing this game. Nobody ever thinks it can happen to them until it does.

6. Have any treatments helped improve your symptoms?
Cognitive behavioral therapy for sure. I also worked with a vestibular specialist for balance and neuromuscular retraining. After the season I transitioned over into visceral manipulation and cranial sacral therapy. I’m now working with a clinical neuropsychologist at the Concussion Institute. My physical therapists put a plan together for me to make a full recovery by next season. I look forward to being further ahead than I was before my injury.

Dr. Schwartz from the Institute also mentioned Dr. Chris Nowinski’s advocacy for concussion safety. I did my research on it and made a pledge to the foundation.

7. Was there anything in particular that drove you to that commitment to research? 
As pro athletes, we are conditioned to think this game will reward us for playing through pain. Once I realized it didn’t owe me anything, I started taking more accountability for my health. I’ve used football as an outlet and vehicle my entire career, but I won’t turn a blind eye to the neglect I’ve experienced. The Concussion & CTE Foundation is making room for those who support strengthening player safety. The only way we’ll see change is through research and policy shifting. Having uncomfortable conversations around concussions in sports is necessary. It’s time we all look in the mirror.

8. Why do you want to tell your story?
You typically get testimony after someone has made their way to the other side of healing. Well, I’m right in the midst of it all, and now serve as my own shelter from the storm. Somewhere along the way I learned to appreciate uncertainty and exit the loop of fear. I speak not only in regard to what I endured, but also for anyone else who is silently suffering from PCS.

9. What is your hope for the future of football?
Football is growing globally and as more players leave the game, others join. I hope we continue supporting what research shows and educate on the impact of repeat head injuries. The game is more than X’s and O’s; there’s no real-life counsel in your playbook. You can’t take it with you when you leave the game. I hope the culture of dismissing injuries shifts so more athletes don’t lose their mind, or their lives when the game ends for them.

10. How do you hope to use your role as a Concussion Captain to impact your sport?
My voice is one of the most powerful tools God gave me. I have many tangible experiences to reference. Instead of clinging to false hope, I decided to actively join the change I wish to see.

11. Finally, what would your message of hope and inspiration be to others who might be recovering from a concussion right now?
Be firm and advocate for yourself! Listen to your body. We are much stronger when we’re honest and vulnerable about what we feel. The clichés are true. Be hopeful in the presence of discomfort. Go back to a point in time where life was simple. Rediscover your joy and sit in these moments a little longer. Edit your life and the people around you. Lean on your family, close friends, and most importantly your faith. Get outside in nature and adventure again. Dedicate this challenging season of life for deeper self-mastery. When you wake up and put two feet on the ground, be determined your pain will subside. I channeled the same approach I had for football into healing. Only in my suffering did I find true peace. It may feel like you’re going from one extreme to the next, but your story too will end in triumph.

“Be smart about anything related to your head. And as soon as something doesn’t feel right, you have to let someone know.”

That’s the message Lewis Simon has for his younger self. Now 23 years old, it’s something Lewis didn’t realize the importance of until a few years back, when a doctor told him he could no longer play the sport he loved because of concussions.

As a kid in Chicago, Lewis had one goal: become a professional hockey player and play in the NHL. He was a passionate, fearless, and aggressive player who had all the tools to make his dream a reality. If anyone was set up to succeed, it was Lewis. He started playing hockey at five years old and never looked back. He realized his potential at a young age when making sacrifices none of his peers had to make, such as missing out on school events.

“I knew since high school this is all I want to do,” said Lewis. “I’m going to play Division I, I’m going to the NHL, I’m going to do whatever it takes to pursue the dream.”

The pace really started to pick up after Lewis dropped lacrosse as a freshman in high school to focus solely on hockey. Then came a move to Pittsburgh as a junior to join a high-level travel AAA team to fast track his development and prepare him for a future playing career. But a severe traumatic brain injury (TBI) and lingering symptoms threw a wrench in those plans.

And though Lewis certainly suspects he experienced a few concussions growing up, they all went undiagnosed and largely untreated. There were days he’d be dizzy and sapped of energy, feeling like his head was in the clouds.

“Looking back, I was a very aggressive player and definitely had been concussed in the past,” said Lewis. “I just never knew because I didn’t have the proper education, or the trainers would simply clear me. There was no guidance.”

It was a vicious cycle. Lewis would take a big hit, get checked out, rest in bed for a week in the dark, fudge through medical forms saying he was better, and then be cleared to play again. Finally, after his third diagnosed concussion at the age of 21, a doctor handed him the news that ended his career.

Without hockey, Lewis felt lost. He needed to recover from his injuries but was still at an age where he wanted to be active, be social, and have fun with his friends. He spent six months in Rochester, NY without a degree, a job, and any college credits. His daily life consisted of going to the rink to watch his teammates, return home to play Xbox, then sleep.

“Those were the dark times for sure,” said Lewis. “I was able to act normal and like I was OK, even though I was miserable inside. If I were to do it over, I would’ve pulled the plug after the first month and gone home and recovered, but I thought being out there, I was doing the right things and I wasn’t.”

Lewis tried different doctors, including multiple vestibular therapists, until he found care that helped him feel better. He thought he could push through and continue playing one day. Ultimately, Lewis decided to put an emphasis on his future and retired from hockey.

Surprisingly, Lewis felt at peace with his decision. Being the driven person he is, Lewis immediately set out to reach his new goal of getting into the one school he always wanted to attend: Northwestern University. This time, no bad news. He was accepted.

Now enrolled at Northwestern, Lewis has kept his passion for hockey alive as a youth coach. And in addition to juggling classes and coaching, he has made time for another pursuit: his own youth apparel company called STY House. Lewis started STY, or Strengthen the Youth, in 2021 as a way to address the effects of concussion in youth athletes. An aficionado of all things apparel, Lewis originally imagined the brand as STYLE House, for men. But he wanted to use his platform for a mission he was passionate about, which led him to STY House. He has since partnered with the Concussion & CTE Foundation and donates a portion of his sales to our organization.

At his worst, Lewis said he was fighting his concussion symptoms the majority of the week. These days, Lewis’s symptoms come and go; he has both good and bad weeks. He is able to manage mostly by knowing what triggers his symptoms and doing his best to avoid those triggers. Some of these include bright lights, large crowds, and driving at night. He prioritizes getting an adequate amount of sleep, exercising, and eating right. Though he is still busy with school, coaching, and his business, he stays aware of his limits to keep his symptoms in check.

 

Earlier this year, Lewis shared his own #ConcussionHope video to inspire positivity and perseverance in others. He wants parents, coaches, and trainers to get properly educated to support and protect their kids. And though he can no longer play the sport he loves; he is grateful he can stay connected to hockey by coaching and guiding the next generation of young athletes.

To learn more about Lewis Simon and STY House, you can visit styhouse.com.

My name is Kylie Lowell and I am a Peer Support Volunteer for the Concussion & CTE Foundation. Before my concussions I played three sports and was active with my school and community. However, after getting hurt I had to give up the most important thing to me: sports. Basketball was always the sport I gave my body to. I loved the excitement and quickness of the game. While I was in eighth grade I got the opportunity to play on the varsity team. Unfortunately before getting the chance to, I got a concussion – while diving for the ball, a girl from the other team slammed her elbow into the side of my head. From that force, I fell backward and hit the back of my head on the gym floor. I do not remember much of the incident as I had blacked out for a few seconds. I was taken out of the game and did not return to play. I missed out on playing on varsity but I had no idea what was going to become of my future after that night.

The hardest part for me was the loss of sports and my friends. When I knew my sports career was over, I felt like a big piece of me had died. Sports were absolutely everything to me and I could never picture myself without them. Everyone would tell me I was born to be an athlete. Sports were my outlet and I dedicated everything to them because it was what brought me the most joy. To have to sit back and watch everyone else get to play while I couldn’t was and is one of the hardest pills to swallow. About two years into having Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS), I was diagnosed with dysautonomia which is a disruption to the part of my nervous system that controls breathing, heartbeat and digestion. I went from being able to run up and down the basketball court as many times as I wanted, to barely being able to walk across my yard without feeling like passing out. Going for simple walks, walking up the stairs, or carrying anything over 10 pounds made my heart rate go up to 190 bpm and above. It made my head throb and I felt as though I could collapse. This was and still is extremely difficult for me to come to terms with. I have always been an active person but now have to start over doing very little at a time because of the dysautonomia.

School was also one of my biggest challenges. I had no support from my school and I felt like I was not wanted there anymore. My friends were not compassionate and teachers stopped asking about me. I lost almost all of my friends simply because they thought I was faking and I was not a convenient friend due to my absence in school. When doctors would ask me to describe how I was feeling, I became speechless. I could not find the words to describe what I was going through when the symptoms were not visible. My way of processing information and being able to communicate it became so different. It is hard for me to reach the information I have and communicate that verbally, which is very frustrating.

The emotional toll of PCS was something I never would have expected. No one had warned me of the effects it could have on my mental health. I cannot stand the noise of people’s utensils and plates hitting together; it’s like nails on a chalkboard. There were endless days and nights of making my room completely dark and putting a pillow over my head to try and drown out the sounds. All I could do was sob and scream into my pillow begging for the pain to go away. The pain was unbearable. It was endless. I felt like I was quite literally going crazy. It was so frustrating to have to feel like a completely different person and not understand why. One of the hardest parts was the people around me could not see the pain I was in, so it was hard for them to believe me. After I had lost my friends and took a medical leave I hit absolute rock bottom. I was at home everyday with no contact from my “friends” and I refused to leave the house. At this time I was still not being seen by the correct doctors and had no accommodations to protect me in school. I became isolated and it caused a huge disruption in my family. It was like I had left the world for a few years. I had never felt so alone and like I had no reason left to be around, a feeling I would never wish on anyone.

However, the year after I had hit rock bottom my spirits were lifted for the first time in three years. While desperate for answers we came across the Concussion & CTE Foundation, and the Inspiring Stories section. I started to scan and read these stories of other teenagers with PCS who were experiencing everything I had been trying to put into words. The instant flood of relief and weight off my shoulders was indescribable. I could not believe it. I cried to let it out, knowing that everything I had felt was real and for the first time I knew I wasn’t alone. Two years before I had found the Foundation, I did not see a future for myself and the isolation took over me. Now, I felt a burst of hope and knew recovery was possible. After taking a medical leave my sophomore year, I had begun to think about other schooling options as I did not feel welcomed back to my sending school. I started to attend an alternative high school called Mount Tom Academy. I began at Mount Tom Academy as a sophomore but was able to complete three years of academic classes in two years. I had worked harder than I ever thought possible and completed classes during the summer without teacher instruction. I began to believe that graduation was in my grasp and I wouldn’t be held back by my injury. After starting to get the right treatments I noticed my symptoms were starting to improve. I had learned how to manage my symptoms better and that was a huge help for myself.

I had been seen by many doctors and medical professionals and none of them could give me answers. It was not until I saw Dr. Neal McGrath that I finally felt like I was not crazy in how I was feeling. He was kind to me and did not question my symptoms. He was the first doctor who started to give me the appropriate accommodations for school. After a few months of seeing him, we had found the Concussion & CTE Foundation and Dr. Robert Cantu. As I started to see Dr. Cantu, my health improved and I was able to become successful in school.

As I have been involved with the Concussion & CTE Foundation throughout my recovery, I have experienced great opportunities in a short amount of time. About a year after I had been mentored by someone at the Foundation I was asked to be in a video for their gala. I told everyone who was watching about me and my relationship with my mentor. I felt so empowered during the process because I knew it would at least help someone out there and that brought me comfort. After having a life-saving experience, I became a mentor to other teenagers. I wanted to give back and hopefully help others like I was helped. I have been a mentor for about two years now and recently I was featured on Boston 25 News. The interviewer had seen my video and wanted to interview me about my concussions and mental health. I was again so thankful to the Foundation and Fox 25 for giving me the platform to hopefully help others know they are never alone.

 

My advice to others who may be struggling is to reach out. I know it can be scary but reach out to the Concussion & CTE Foundation, me, or anyone else on here because we all understand you. When I was connected with my mentor it helped me so much to be able to talk to someone who understood every single feeling I had when so many others did not. I would also tell you to stick with your gut and know that what you’re feeling is absolutely real even if people tell you it is not. It can be so discouraging when no one will believe you but I believe you. Always stick to your gut and know it WILL get better. I think it is important for people suffering from PCS to know that it is OK to let yourself have these feelings. I have held in a lot of the emotion surrounding my PCS because I did not know what I was feeling was understandable. Although I have lost a lot throughout my recovery, I have also gained a lot of insight that will help others and serve me well in my future. I now get to help others going through PCS and spread awareness and I am extremely grateful for that.

 

My name is Matthew Solomon. I have loved football for as long as I can remember. No other sport has captured my heart and soul the same way.

Football is a very intricate sport, one that I think many people don’t fully appreciate. Small nuances can make the difference between a hard-fought win or loss. Every game is an exciting adventure to watch, and with only a few games each season, every week counts. Whether you are a player or a fan, when your team is winning, there is no greater feeling of pride.

And the people behind the sport? Football players are a different breed. They may be strong or fast, or both, but always tough, even fearless. Yet in football, no individual alone can carry a team. The whole is always greater than the parts and being part of a team is like a second family. You work together, celebrate together, and share disappointment together. That camaraderie is very powerful, and sometimes even the underdog can achieve incredible victories.

Over the years I played flag football then progressed into tackle. Outwitting, outmuscling, or outrunning an opponent is thrilling. Scoring a touchdown is the greatest feeling in the world.

My brain injuries didn’t start until my freshman year of high school when I blocked a punt with my head. I don’t even really remember it. It was near the end of the game and my adrenaline was running so high, I didn’t start to feel the concussion symptoms until that evening.

After dinner, I saw my school doctor and was placed in a dark room to recover. The doctor alerted my parents, coaches, and teachers, and the return-to-play protocol was slow and thorough. I was told to stay off my phone and my computer. My head hurt and I had a heightened sensitivity to light. I was lethargic and slept a lot, and I wasn’t very hungry. After about 36 hours at the health center, I was sent home for the weekend to rest and was instructed not to read or watch TV. I missed the last football game of the season against our biggest rival. I was sad to miss such a fun tradition at my school.

The next week I went back to class to listen. My teachers were told not to expect that I participate, do homework, or take any tests. The following week catching up on schoolwork was a bit stressful, but I got to go back to the trainer under our return-to-play policy. I was tested for headaches while increasing my workout activity each day before I was allowed to go back to football practice.

The following season, upon falling to the ground after a tackle, I had an awful feeling that I had injured my brain again. I recovered quickly from that hit, but later the same season, I was stiff-armed by a much larger player in a practice and once again suffered a diagnosed concussion.

I knew in my heart that this could impact my long-term health. The concussions seemed to come easily. The risks were becoming great. I was missing school, friends, and time just being a teenager. I see NFL players, some of the best in the world, suffer concussions right before my eyes. I read about CTE and the things that it causes some people do, how they suffer, and maybe hurt others. I see the struggle my grandparents go through with my grandfather’s dementia. Brain health is so fragile, yet so critical to leading a healthy and happy life.

I was angry and sad. After letting it sink in for a bit, and talking to my coach, we decided I would finish the season as a student assistant coach. Aside from helping the coaches at practice and games, I watched film and logged team stats. I was on the sidelines with the squad through all the ups and downs. I love this game whether in pads or not.

I stay active and have fun in many other ways. Health and fitness are very important to me. I enjoy weightlifting and I run track in the spring. At school, my friend and I started a “rec games” club where we’ve played kickball, capture the flag and other non-contact sports.

I took an online scouting class during the Covid-19 lockdown, track football stats in my free time, participate in a number of football chat rooms, and have fantasy drafts with my friends. I hope to study sports management and work in the professional sports industry someday. I love this game. I always have and I always will.

Every student-athlete has different goals and experiences. I find competing very exciting, and I love the camaraderie of a team. The important thing is to be true to yourself. For me, that means prioritizing my brain health for my future.

If you think you have sustained a concussion, tell a coach, see a doctor, and take the necessary time to heal. If you think you see someone else suffer a concussion, speak up.