Personal Narrative: The Concussion

On June 27th, 2016, I severely fractured my tibia, fibula, and ankle after an approximate 20-foot climbing fall. It was the worst injury in my outdoor athletic career. The following four months since the accident consisted of surgery, immobilization, rehabilitation, and ultimately returning to sporting fitness. I was told the damage was so bad that I might have a permanent limp, which would effectively end climbing, skiing, and running. The toughest part is to admit you yourself that you made a mistake and it has the potential to affect an athletic and outdoor lifestyle. I didn’t have a lot of hope after the accident, but over the course of the recovery, I grew stronger, not only in body, but in mind as well. Injury and

I peeked through my facemask and I could see the quarterback lining up to take the snap. I glanced back at my coach who swung his arm across his body indicating the “slash”. My body shook with excitement as I inched up to the line. At the sound of a distant “hike” I exploded from my stance off the tackle into the endzone. I found myself one on one with the quarterback in the backfield, an outcome I had prepared for hundreds of times. I dove at his legs colliding with his shins. After a push and pull struggle he went down and I stood victorious in the middle of the endzone, my teammates immediately raised their hands above their heads signaling a safety. The excitement in the stadium grew and the student section erupted chanting “STORMIN MORMON...STORMIN MORMON”

Over the past four years, I have seen more doctors than an average person will see in a lifetime. From endocrinologists to neurologist, I have tirelessly sought medical treatment for multiple brain injuries I incurred at a young age. Through my personal struggle, I learned that there is limited treatment for concussions and traumatic brain injuries in the state of New Mexico. It has become apparent that there is a lack of treatment not only for brain related issues, but for all health issues in the state of New Mexico, especially in rural communities such as mine.

that we're conditioned to not ask questions and have been marginalized into this as our only source of news .

I had such a great day at clinical yesterday. I was finally able to see a vaginal delivery and that entire process. When I arrived in the morning, the mom had just received Cytotec, to help induce labor and ripen her cervix. She was forty-one weeks and zero. Around ten thirty in the morning, she asked for her epidural to manage her pain. We bolused her with fifteen hundred milliliters of lactated ringers to prevent hypotension. Shane was the certified registered nurse anesthesiologist (CRNA) who administered the epidural. It was very cool watching him administer all the needed pain relief medication before he administered the epidural to make sure that it would be placed in the epidural space in the spine. Then administered a small test dose, waited till a few blood pressures were taken, then administered the remaining about through an epidural pump. After the epidural was administered, I was able to administer her foley catheter. I was so happy that I was finally able to place one. I learned a few tricks from Maura (my nurse) as well. She taught me that it was easier to take the top off of the lubricant syringe and to place the tip of the foley inside of the syringe, that way it will not wiggle around and become unsterile. She also taught me to grab from the bottom of the labia and pull up, that way it ensures that I will have a clear entrance to

My heart pounding in my chest, my hands shaking, as goose bumps devour my body. I get the ball and I fall to the ground, landing flat on my back as I try to pass the ball to another person. I hear roars of laughter as I see my leg straight in the air and the ball on the ground next to me. I look over at the Coach as he frowns at me and looks away. I start to roll off the field. I hear the siren as I start to limp home with my hand on my back. I try to run the rest of the way, but my leg won't budge so I limped.

Football has always been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember. As the youngest of four boys, I watched all three of my older brothers’ play from the side of the field. I never wanted to miss a single game. I would run right along with them, watching every move and play that they made. I will hold these memories for as long as I live. I always knew that I would be out there someday playing, but until then, I would settle for cheering them on. When the day finally came that it was my turn to get out there on that huge, open field and run my plays, I had a feeling that I had never experienced before. I felt a rush from my head to my toes, and all of a sudden, I was focused on nothing but playing the game. I was there for one thing and one thing only, to play my hardest for my team and make my brothers proud. To this day, when my feet hit the field, I still have that same awesome feeling. I finally understood why they would get excited, yelling and jumping around and now I could join in on those fun times with them. They have taught me so much about the game. If it weren’t for them, I definitely wouldn’t be the player that I am today. I could never tell them how much I

The brain-dead seldom seem like they’re dead. The rise and fall of their chests is so convincing, the ventilator seems like an ornament rather than the single source of oxygen that keeps their hearts beating. Their skin is warm to the touch, and condensation clings to the inside of the catheter from the fresh streams of body-temperature urine. Despite how peaceful they look, their bodies are undergoing progressive autolysis, utter and massive self-destruction. Without the helm of consciousness, my father and all of the patients in his section of the intensive care unit seemed adrift in a tiny boat on a wild, infinite sea – yet unconcerned about finding their way back to

Almost a year ago I suffered a brain injury by the hands of my own husband. That day has forever changed my life, but in an ironic way it was also for the best. I began seeking The Lord and Praying for strength to get through all the difficulties the days would bring and to my surprise I was able to get through things I never thought I would have to. The struggles in my life are only compounded by the symptoms the brain injury is already showing but for the first time in my life I find complete happiness in The Lord. I am a recovering addict after thirty years of addiction I never thought something such as The Word could help ease the pain I've experienced but it does. My walk with The Lord gets stronger everyday and I know He knows I'd spend

I could still hear the ringing in my ear as I got up from the bicycle flipping 10 feet in front of me. I checked to see if I had any injuries. I was going around 20mph. I was with my friend named Logan, going down a hill on the street. I had multiple things going on at on time. I was dazed, and I got a minor concussion from the amount of force with which I hit the ground. What I did not notice until it was too late for me to fix it was that my shoelace was untied

Today was the second day of my 6-week placement at Ward 3A-Logan Hospital, I have originally been paired with a demand casual pool RN, however, the said RN is not confident enough to handle me as her student nurse at the time. After the scrum at 7am, and the handover on the 4-bed bay + sides, I politely ask her if I could take one patient as it was one of the instructions of my CF during the orientation on day 1, but I was answered with “I’m not really familiar with the area and I’m from the demand casual pool...” Having sighted my CF at the corridors, I excused myself from the RN and discussed the matter to my CF, and she allowed me to be buddied with a very good EN, informing me that “she is an EN” before letting me to the bay and introducing me to my new buddy EN.

Taking the field with a varsity football team as a freshman is quite scary. Friday nights are something I have grown to love even more than before. Mental toughness as well as physical is very much needed in this sport. This year would be the test for me. Nerves are always going to be a factor for people that are starting to play football with older guys.I was a fourteen year old freshman. Over the summer break I had been lifting a lot of weights and getting strong. It wasn’t ever going through my mind that I would start as a freshman, Until Coach Cole came to me and said that I was going to have to be tough because I had a good chance to start because we needed another lineman.

Standing in the blow up tunnel as the band stands at the entrance of the run through, they give the final note and we break through the entrance as our fans cheer on their boys. The game seemed to progress faster and faster as we finally score a touchdown and the crowd goes wild. Now it was my turn to add to the score I come out on the field for the extra point. The snap and hold are good but I pull my body through too much and drill the side of the goal post. Right when the ball sounded against the goal post my confidence seemed to drop lower than it has ever dropped before as I miss my first extra point of the season. Running off the field my coach asked me what went wrong and I told him I just pulled it and to my surprise he wasn’t even mad at me as he knew my nerves were up. The game continued to progress and before I knew it, it was already half time and we were up by a touchdown. The third quarter seemed to go just as fast as the rest

It was an oppressively hot and humid day (as usual) at Academy at the Lakes, and Mrs. Starkey was giving a tour to a group of august looking potential investors for the next fundraiser. As she approached the ‘infamous’ Room M-32, she began to feel nervous, and she began to speculate about the devastating possibilities, an idiosyncratic habit of hers. With sweat in her hand, she grabbed the door handle, and she, reluctantly, opened the door. Utter chaos. There were mad kids screaming at each other, and kids hitting each other; the class behaved like a stochastic fractal. Some kids were severely injured with broken bones and traumatizing hits to the head, and other kids were defenestrated. Mrs. Frizzle was out of school (so was the magical school bus), but her students were still in the classroom.

Throughout my clinical experiences I have encountered a large variety of school cultures and environments. I've been lucky enough to work with both public and charter schools and have first-hand experience with grades one through four. While I have taught and observed all of the typical subjects including math science, reading, and social studies, I have also worked in the schools to educate students in theater as well as health and physical education. From all of these experiences I learned that my greatest passion is in working with young students, grades K-2, in underprivileged schools.