Posted: October 4, 2019

“If I woke up this morning, I’m winning.” Rap lyrics from 2 Chainz that really hit home. Not only do I strive to live each day with a grateful heart, but as someone with epilepsy I go to bed each night knowing I may have multiple seizures in my sleep, if I wake up the next morning, it is truly a blessing.

That’s how I’ve learned to see my life with epilepsy – as a blessing. Every day I choose to focus on what I can do, instead of what I can’t. If you’re out there living with epilepsy, living with seizures in any way, I hope I can inspire you to do the same.

I’ve had an eight-year journey with epilepsy. I developed it in my early 20’s during my football career. I detail my concussion history and the beginning of my experience with seizures and how it impacted my relationships in the piece, “How Football Changed my Life.” It’s been a long road, with some serious lows, but living with epilepsy has taught me so much.  It’s taught me that greatness isn’t reaching every goal in life, greatness is the maximum effort you’re able to give – win, lose or draw. Not everyone will beat epilepsy, but I want us all to find greatness in the fight, in knowing we’re trying.

I try to live with an EPIC mindset, and I want to encourage you to do the same. EPIC stands for epilepsy, pride, inspiration and courage.  Epilepsy looks different for each of the 40 million people in the world who suffer from it. It’s a chronic neurological disorder that produces brief disturbances in the normal electrical functions of the brain, causing recurrent seizures. Some people are born with it. Others develop it later in life from a brain injury, brain tumor, stroke or other reasons. Some have grand mal seizures, others don’t. Along with seizures, many have debilitating headaches, nausea, memory loss and fatigue.

No matter what your experience with epilepsy looks like, I want you to know people are capable of loving you, and people are capable of understanding what you’re going through. It’s easy to put walls up, but sometimes we have to let our guard down and figure out a way to get through to society, so they see beyond our seizures and realize we’re humans too. We have bills, stress, trials and daily obstacles we face just like anybody else, yet we get looked at like we’re lazy bums. Trust me, I want to go to work, but I don’t want to have a seizure and put somebody in harm’s way. Many of us are unable to work with our conditions, but we still have to find a way to provide and live in a world where money is key in everything you do or want to be.

Imagine, out of nowhere, your body jerking violently out of your control. Or you lose the ability to control your speech. Sometimes you go completely blank, as if you’re stuck in space for a short period of time. A seizure can hit at any moment, at any time. The very noticeable symptoms are hard to hide.   We need to spread more cultural awareness of seizures, so people can understand what we’re going through and realize in those scary moments, we need someone to help us, not make fun of us. It’s easy to be embarrassed, but I want to be part of a movement where we erase the shame and realize the epilepsy is not our fault. We didn’t ask for this, but it’s our reality and we have to find the strength to get through it.

I won’t accept epilepsy beating me down or getting in my way of bettering myself. It’s all about going out there and just trying every day. Being misunderstood in society can cause a lot of pain. I walk around looking like a “normal” person. People say I don’t look like I have seizures, I look athletic. While that can be hard to hear, I have to accept that some people will listen when I try to explain my condition and others won’t. The epilepsy community needs to be there to support each other and offer that understanding.  We are in a unique position and what we’re going through completely changes lives.

Epilepsy is a monster. It’s so humbling and eye opening to try and understand something you’ve never seen. I’ve never seen someone have a grand mal seizure. It’s amazing when you have people around you who can recognize it and take care of you. I have friends who tell me they caught me before I fell and laid me down because they knew what was going on. It’s scary to lose all control of your body and mind during a seizure, but I’ve learned how to have enough pride to accept help. Let’s all have enough pride to get up every day with epilepsy and try our hardest, but not the sort of false pride where we don’t let people in. It’s easy to push people away because you’re caught up in yourself and your own struggles, but when somebody is there for you, don’t misconstrue it. Try to remind yourself they’re facing struggles as well and you must be there for them too. Let’s have enough pride to be honest about what we’re going through. I want to be able to admit to my wife that I don’t remember things that happened at our wedding. It’s frustrating not to remember, but I have enough pride not to lie, and to own my illness and its symptoms. You must have enough pride to look past people’s opinions about your injury. If you let the negativity bother you, you can lose yourself. Instead, let’s work together to educate people on what to do when they see someone having a seizure.

 

Finding the inspiration to live each day with a smile on can make all the difference. It can be as simple as starting your day like I sometimes do, watching old Saturday Night Live videos or Chapelle standup; finding anything you can to make you laugh. If you think of the what if’s they will ruin your day and stress you out, and you’ll be thinking about your potential seizures more than you’ll think about being happy. We have to choose happiness and laughter. There’s so much pain, struggle and adversity that goes into epilepsy that you can lose yourself. I don’t want people to lose their dreams and ambitions because of this disease. Stay inspired and find new things to dream about.

I’ve always been a playful guy. My wife is always telling me to “be serious,” but there is so much going in my mind I just want to play and show my son that everything is OK. Yes, my children cry and get emotional because they have seen my grand mal seizures, but I have to be strong for them. I want to be inspiring to them and use my struggles as a life lesson to show that no matter what challenges you face, you can still get up every morning and do your best to be a good person.

I would encourage you to seek out new doctors and specialists and try to do as much as possible with what you have. I strive to live healthy and live a life of enjoyment to be what I want to be as much as I’m able to. That mentality is why I decided to have laser ablation surgery in the near future. The surgery will remove scar tissue from my brain and hopefully stop my seizures. It’s a risk, and I’m scared – but it’s my best chance to get healthy and I want to make sure I’m doing everything in my power to get better for myself and for my family. I realize the opportunity to have the surgery is a major blessing that others might not have. I know it gets tough, but we need to be thankful and get up and be inspired by life. It’s humbling finding things that make you appreciate life. I truly appreciate being able to walk my kids to the bus every morning, and the challenge of doing (and ruining) my little girl’s hair each day. Even though I have epilepsy, those times are my happiest because I feel relevant and like a real father. Find those moments in your life. I’m also inspired that somebody married me. I’m inspired by the people who support those of us who have epilepsy. It’s a job nobody could prepare for. They see things that are unimaginable, and they continue to love and support us despite that.

People who have the courage to speak openly about seizures can help give us all hope. Some people in society feel like they’re better than you, feel like you’re somebody they don’t want to deal with because of your seizures – forget them! Instead, let’s talk to each other and work with each other to raise awareness because we understand one another. You can push through the struggle. Have the courage to love other people. You get to the point of losing yourself to depression, where you may feel like giving up on life, but you can’t. We can all find a purpose in helping each other. Even though you might not be able to work or drive, you must have the courage to get up and try, because everybody is fighting their own battles, and this just happens to be ours. The fatigue that comes with seizures is on a different level. It’s excruciating, but I love the strength that comes with getting up every day afterwards. We are accomplishing something major just by pushing through our day. I finally have the courage to proudly admit I have epilepsy and I’m not embarrassed anymore, even if it brings out the most vulnerable times in my life.

Everyone with epilepsy: let’s band together to help each other out. Let’s start a movement to let society and the world know we are human, we are struggling just like everybody else. We might look fine, but we’re going through this. I want people in the epilepsy community to know – even if you don’t feel love, even if you feel discouraged, I love the strength and courage you have. I love the fact that even though you are misunderstood you get up every day and try. Let’s continue to laugh and find enjoyment in the little things and try to be the best person we can be each day, realizing it’s a blessing each day just to wake up.

I’m here for you if you want to talk or share your story. You can reach out to me at [email protected].

Posted: September 10, 2019 

The University of Northern Iowa junior and her teammates have a unique understanding of the value of concussion safety. Current UNI women’s rugby head coach Meghan Flanigan makes it a priority to educate her athletes on brain trauma and concussions, to honor the program’s former longtime coach Steve Murra. Murra passed away in 2016 and was later diagnosed by researchers at the VA-BU-CLF Brain Bank with Stage II CTE.

Murra’s passing started a lasting conversation about concussions and brain trauma within the eastern Iowa community. Flanigan, who played for Murra, says the team aims to continue his legacy by doing more than just playing excellent rugby. Many athletes on the team pledged to donate their brains for research at the VA-BU-CLF Brain Bank and have delivered the Team Up Speak Up Speech each year since 2016.

After learning about Murra’s passing when she joined the team her freshman year, Kleyer worked to gain a stronger understanding of concussions and CTE.

“In high school I didn’t really think concussions were a big deal,” Kleyer said. “Knowing the signs and symptoms of a concussion definitely has opened my eyes to seeing what I need to do to take care of my body.”

During a 2018 all-star rugby game, Kleyer put her knowledge into practice. She noticed her teammate took a hard hit to the head. When asked if she felt alright, Kleyer’s teammate was quick to say she was fine, but Kleyer kept a watchful eye on her friend as they continued the match. A few plays later, her teammate took another bad hit.

“I could definitely tell right away something was up and she wasn’t doing OK,” Kleyer said.

She noticed her teammate was getting up much slower than usual.

“Our ‘thing’ as a team is to push each other if we are ever winded,” Kleyer said. “We’ll say, ‘get up! You’re OK!’”

In this situation, though, she could tell her teammate was suffering from something more serious than fatigue. Kleyer told fellow teammates to help her injured friend as she brought the situation to Coach Flanigan’s attention.

“I was talking to some other coaches trying to form a game plan when I heard the ref’s whistle blow,” Flanigan said. “I heard Kleyer screaming my name and saw her talking to the refs.”

The injured player was brought off the field and evaluated. Doctors eventually diagnosed her with a concussion. Kleyer made sure to check up on her daily during her recovery as she sat out from classes and practice.

The best teammates, like Kleyer, care more about the health and wellbeing of their teammates than they do about winning or losing. If it weren’t for Kleyer’s leadership, her teammate could’ve continued to play and risked developing serious health consequences like Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS), or even Second Impact Syndrome (SIS), a rare condition that is often fatal when it occurs.

By working with the team’s Athletic Trainer and following their return to play protocol, Kleyer’s teammate was able to take the field again later that season.

“Had we not been proactive in saying something she could’ve been out a lot longer,” Kleyer said. “She was able to continue playing later on…that gave me happiness.”

Coach Flanigan says all her players take concussions very seriously, but especially Kleyer.

“Every year she is one of the first to inform the girls what a concussion is,” Flanigan said. “What we can do as a team, what to look for.”

Coach Flanigan wasn’t surprised it was Kleyer who stopped the game to get her teammate help, describing Kleyer as having a “natural ability to lead people on and off the field.”

Watch the University of Northern Iowa Women’s rugby team give the Team Up Against Concussions Speech:

Two of Kleyer’s own personal role models, Alev Kelter and Kate Zackary, are members of USA Rugby Women’s Eagles Sevens team. The Concussion Legacy Foundation is proud to partner with USA Rugby for the first ever USA Rugby Team Up Speak Up Week Sept. 8- 14, 2019. Members of the USA Rugby community can pledge to participate and learn more here.

Teams from every sport can participate in Team Up Against Concussions. Get started here.

Posted: April 17, 2019

“More people should be aware that you can pledge to donate your brain to research,” Wilson said. “Without research, we can’t make educated decisions about our sports. I think it’s the duty of players, not just ex-pro athletes, to step up and contribute to research to allow people to make better decisions.”

Wilson spent 15 years as a top-tier professional rugby player, more than double the career length for most of his teammates and opponents. He was born into a rugby family in Belfast, Northern Ireland, started playing at age six, and worked his way up to represent his country on the Irish national team like his grandfather and uncles before him.

As Wilson traveled the globe for Ireland and premiere rugby teams like Ulster and the Northampton Saints, concussions and the long-term impact of brain trauma were not a major concern.

“When you’re playing professional rugby, that’s your lifestyle and your income and your livelihood. You don’t really think too much about brain trauma,” said Wilson. “You’re just focused on getting picked for the team and performing at your maximum.”

In recent years, a global conversation has emerged on brain trauma within rugby. In 2018, the Concussion Legacy Foundation launched the CLF Global Brain Bank to study the brains of former contact sport athletes for CTE. Australian rugby icons Ian Roberts and Peter FitzSimons pledged their brains to support the research. Several other Australian rugby legends went public with cognitive issues they’ve been told are related to their years of hits to the head playing rugby.

Fortunately, Wilson left rugby feeling healthy and without a dramatic concussion history. Reflecting on his retirement in 2017, Wilson said, “I had played such a long career and I was able to finish on my terms, which a lot of players don’t get to do. I was able to play in the very last game of the season, score a try, and get awarded Man of the Match before taking my young son on the field for a lap of honor. In many ways it was a fairytale ending to a long career.” Nonetheless, Wilson knows many athletes aren’t as fortunate and wants to give back to rugby by contributing to research.

“Concussion is something nobody talked about 20 years ago, but thanks to research people are more aware of certain dangers. It’s a bit like the anti-smoking campaign and issues with tobacco. It was only when people realized how bad it could be for you that something was done about it.”

Wilson expects mixed reactions to the news of his brain pledge from rugby fans and former teammates in Ireland. The issue of concussions in rugby has been widely reported in recent years and many people embrace changes to address the danger; however, Wilson anticipates some still won’t understand his enthusiasm to support research and might view it as a part of a larger attack on their beloved sport.

“Where people might ask why I want to pledge my brain, my answer is ‘why not?’” said Wilson. “People may worry this type of research will lead to the demise of contact sports, but we can only make educated decisions if we know the truth. Why would you not want to know the truth?” Wilson hopes that by pledging to donate his brain he can help raise awareness about the need for more concussion education and research.

One famous case in Northern Ireland illustrates, to Wilson, the danger of inaction. Ben Robinson, a 14-year-old boy in Belfast, continued playing in a rugby game despite showing clear signs of a concussion. Robinson collapsed and died from second-impact syndrome. After the tragedy, Robinson’s family boldly advocated for change, and his story led to new regulations in the UK. “We have to recognize the risks,” Wilson said. “People can’t bury their head in the sand. There are families who have gone through real, preventable trauma that we can’t forget about.”

Wilson’s passion as a concussion advocate emerged from intersecting life experiences. A new career, several years’ perspective on life as a professional athlete, and two young children impacted the way he viewed contact sports. “It was only when I retired, and we started a family—we have a young boy who is probably going to get into sports in a year or two—that my conscience changed a little bit and I started thinking about concussion.”

Now, Wilson makes his living teaching the tackling techniques he learned playing rugby to American football players in Dallas, Texas. His knowledge about intentional collisions, coupled with a Master’s in Performance Science that he earned in Ireland, has shaped his efforts to mitigate concussion risk.

Wilson’s new brain donor card will undoubtedly spark conversations among the athletes he played alongside and against. With luck, it will inspire more athletes to follow his lead and act to make their sports safer.

Follow Roger Wilson on Twitter.

Click here to join Wilson and pledge your brain.

Posted: November 20, 2018 

I submitted this film to the Sports Emmy group back in 1982. I was amazed when it got nominated for Outstanding Achievement in Sports Programming and shocked when my brother in law called me to say he had accepted the award for me. Our small crew consisted of me as director/cameraman/interviewer, and an assistant/sound person. Funding for the film was a PBS grant out of WNET in New York City. What was most telling to me was that the sports industry was acknowledging that there was a problem with the game of football and it deserved attention. Thirty-seven years later, with today’s players bigger, stronger and faster, I want to thank Chris Nowinski and those at the Concussion Legacy Foundation for honoring our film, and its cautionary message once again.

Posted: September 21, 2018 

The Massachusetts native was hospitalized in Washington D.C. for intensive care and spent the last year recovering from her injuries, the most persistent of which is her severe concussion. The experience showed Miller just how difficult it can be to return to life after a concussion – and how much research still needs to be done to understand the effects brain trauma can have on long-term health.

Now, Miller is pledging to donate her brain to the Concussion Legacy Foundation to raise awareness about the need for research. There is growing awareness about research on brain trauma in the jockey community, but much more progress is needed. Miller hopes that her experience and her enthusiasm to improve jockey welfare will inspire more jockeys to pledge their brains and create a larger educational movement in the racing community.

Could you tell us about your injury last year and how it happened? What has the recovery process been like for you?

I went down in a race in West Virginia and I don’t remember much of that day. After watching the replay, it looks like I was quite likely knocked out upon hitting the ground. I had one horse left behind me in the race who came along and kicked me in the jaw when he tried to jump me. Whether the brain injury came from the initial fall or getting kicked by a thousand-pound animal, I’m not sure. It could have been either or could have been both.

I ended up with two jaw fractures and three separate brain bleeds all on the surface of my brain that put me in the ICU, I’m not sure how long. Then I was in the hospital for a couple weeks, and I stayed at another rehabilitation hospital for five days after that.

 

My memories are a little fuzzy from when I first got out of the hospital. I know they warned me a lot about the possible psychological aspects of head trauma like depression and anxiety. They warned me enough when they discharged me that I remember it. Now I’ve been discharged from my speech rehab, but I’ve still been in physical therapy.

What is your general sense about how concussions are perceived in the racing world?

I think it’s more just something that’s accepted as a risk that we are willingly taking to do something that we love. From what I know, it’s not openly spoken about. The one thing I do know is we are all very aware of the risks. All of us have either heard of or met jockeys who have had serious injuries whether they be brain injuries, spinal injuries, or even deaths from going down in a race. We all know it’s a very real possibility, and that it’s significantly more a matter of luck than skill or decision making.

Why are you donating your brain to the Concussion Legacy Foundation?

I think it’s important to further both research and awareness as much as possible now, rather than getting to the point where we have parents saying it’s not safe for their kids to play sports at all because the proper research was not done ahead of time. Too many people are getting hurt, so let’s find out what adjustments need to be made now so that in the long run all of these sports that we love can keep going.

Is donating one’s brain to research something that you’d like to see catch on with your fellow jockeys and fellow riders?

Absolutely, I think it’s a good way to spread awareness. Most jockeys currently racing tend to be younger – hopefully they live nice long lives – but by the time they pass away there will probably still be research to be done. So why not donate it? We are certainly in a position to have suffered a variety of brain traumas. Most of us will get through our careers suffering numerous concussions and some will have some big brain injuries, so I think it presents a good pool of variety to gather information.

Did you struggle to manage and coordinate your recovery?

The insurance company did provide me with a nurse case manager for the first few months. She organized all my appointments and came into almost all of them with me, just in case I was struggling to ask a doctor a question or understand something, so she could get more details. We’d talk about it afterwards and she would take notes on everything, so I didn’t have to feel the pressure of trying to remember everything that was discussed. She was immensely helpful with that. It would’ve been nicer to have her a little bit longer but I’m glad I had her for as long as I did.

But I feel lucky. After a brain injury, you aren’t really in a position to be seeking help because you aren’t necessarily mentally capable. And on top of that, I grew up in America, English is my primary language and I’m familiar with our medical system. A lot of the jockeys I race with are young guys from other countries and I couldn’t imagine trying to go through this if I was still learning English at 18 years old while my family is in another country.

What do you hope the future of horse racing will look like in relation to brain injuries and jockey welfare?

I would like to see everybody get on board for making sure jockeys don’t ride when they aren’t cleared and aren’t medically ready. I don’t believe that there is ever going to be anything that will completely get rid of the risk. But I’m not looking for that as much as utilizing what’s available for technology to decrease the risk. One of the concerns for a lot of jockeys is the time spent out of work is time spent with no income. Some people rush back to work because they have families, and that’s understandable. Not every injured jockey knows about the financial resources available to us because it varies a -little bit state-to state. Also, many people are trying to put better concussion protocols in place, but they are not consistent nationwide. We need to take the best technology and the best recovery protocols and make it all a little more accessible for those that get hurt.

Join Jenn in taking the pledge to donate your brain.

Posted: September 12, 2018

Sydney DeMasi from the Somerville High School Girls Soccer team went above and beyond to protect her teammate Samiyra.

With only a few minutes left in one of the final games of the 2017 season, a forceful kick by the opposing team struck Samiyra directly in the forehead. Sydney witnessed the ball hit Samiyra and, as good teammates do, went to check on her.

As Sydney remembers it, “Sami was like ‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ But then it got to the point where she was unsteady walking.” So, Sydney informed Somerville’s athletic trainer Michelle Kelly that something was wrong with her teammate, and also told Samiyra to check in with Michelle.

The next day in school, Sydney sought out Samiyra to see how she was feeling. “I asked her if she saw Michelle or the coach. She said, ‘No I think I’m fine.’”

Despite Samiyra’s assurances that she felt okay, Sydney suspected that she was hurting. Sydney noticed Samiyra was squinting at the lights and she admitted to getting headaches.  “Sami is not one to speak out when she’s hurt, she’s very quiet…[but] I was told by another teammate she was falling asleep in class which isn’t like her, so I told her to go see Michelle,” said Sydney. Still worried, Sydney followed up with Michelle Kelly and Samiyra later that day to be sure that she reported her symptoms. It turned out that Samiyra did have a concussion.

Samiyra was diagnosed and entered the concussion protocol to start her rest and recovery process right away. But not long ago, a concussion like Samiyra’s might have gone unnoticed and undiagnosed. It’s impossible for coaches and athletic trainers to monitor every player at all times, so occasionally concussions can slip through the cracks. That’s why looking out for teammates and speaking up when a concussion is suspected, the core principles of the Team Up Against Concussions program, is so crucial to keeping athletes safe.

Team Up Against Concussions encourages coaches to give a speech at the beginning of every season asking their players to speak up if they think a teammate might have a concussion. Understanding that injured athletes often cannot recognize when they have a concussion, or that they may feel pressure to stay in the game, the goal of the program is to create a positive concussion culture and make sure athletes with a possible concussion are removed and checked immediately. Studies show that immediate removal is the key to getting them back to full strength and back in the game most quickly.

And that’s just what Sydney did. Michelle Kelly and head coach Tony Arias have created a positive concussion culture on the team by teaching their athletes how to recognize the signs of a concussion and about the importance of speaking up if they think a teammate has a concussion. “The kids really do look out for each other,” said Michelle Kelly. “The soccer team in particular has this family mentality where they protect each other.”

That protective family environment is obvious in Sydney’s actions and in how she speaks about her teammate. “Sami is a big part of the team,” said Sydney. “If she wasn’t able to play ever again because she got hurt worse, it wouldn’t just hurt us, it would hurt her. Soccer is something she loves and we all love, and we all want to be part of it together.”

“I’m very proud of what Sydney has done during the couple of years that she has been with the program, especially when she took initiative that night with Samiyra’s case,” said Coach Arias. “She is one of those people where if she wants something done, she gets it done. That’s her character and I was not surprised that she handled it so well.”

 

Michelle echoed Coach Arias’ praise of Sydney. “To be able to recognize that someone is in distress – make sure they’re ok – realize they’re not ok – and to tell somebody about it then make sure the follow up happened, I think that’s something pretty remarkable. We don’t see that all the time.”

The Concussion Legacy Foundation is proud to present the Teammate of the Year Award to Sydney and hope that more athletes follow her outstanding leadership.

Posted: May 23, 2018

“You go to Harvard?” they said.

“Yes, I play hockey” I replied.

This has always been my immediate response up until this year. Now, when asked this question I say “yes” with a very apparent hesitation. But why the hesitation? The answer is that hockey was my identity. I was not a student at Harvard, I was a hockey player at Harvard. Hockey was my passion and hockey was my life. Every daily decision and sacrifice I made for years was in the best interest of me as a hockey player –  whether that was getting up early to skate extra, shooting countless extra pucks, working out more, getting my rest instead of hanging out with friends or always eating the healthiest option. I will be one of the first to tell you that all of this can change in an instant.

I want to offer each and every one of you reading this a challenge: don’t let your sport define you. Everyone laces up their skates, ties their cleats, or buckles their helmet for the last time at some point in their life; unfortunately for some, it happens much sooner than others. Furthermore, unfortunately for some, it is not by choice.

Up until February of this year, I was just a Harvard Hockey player from Shaker Heights, Ohio. Growing up, I even left my home town to go to Minnesota. My friends knew I only left them to play hockey. I dropped everything to be a hockey player my sophomore year of high school. I left my family, my friends, my school and my hometown to be the best possible hockey player that I could be. I put every ounce of me into the sport that I not only loved, but that defined me day in and day out because I let it.

If I have learned one thing from suffering traumatic brain injuries, it is perspective. When a doctor looked me in the eyes and told me that I should not go back to doing what I love, I was heartbroken. Not only was I heartbroken, but I definitely did not know who I was without hockey.

I will never forget the day my dad looked at me and said, “in life we do not get to choose our cards, we only learn how to play them.” We can look at a career-ending brain injury as stripping us of our identity or we can use it to help redefine our identity. Words cannot express my gratitude for what the game has given me and taught me over the years. It has put incredible people in my life. Hockey undoubtedly is and will be a huge part of my life, always.

I am not going to tell you that walking away from your sport is easy. To this day, my eyes glisten as I walk across the bridge to the rink to support my teammates every weekend, but I cannot help in doing so with a grateful heart. I will hold on to the memories, the lessons and the friendships that hockey has given me forever. I would not wish for even a second of doing what I loved back. I truly believe that everything happens for a reason, even when we ourselves are unsure of the reason.

Where would I be today if I had not been a hockey player? The answer is not at Harvard.

Lastly, I would not have the opportunity to be a part of this great community and the Concussion Legacy Foundation that is making the best of life’s circumstances.

Posted: April 6, 2018

I smile a lot, but I’m afraid. I laugh but I’m terrified, I can’t differ the truth from all the lies. To chase a dream, where you hear the fans scream, stands filled with jerseys of ya damn team. A man’s game, a man’s pain, sacrifice my all, why should I feel this shame? War scene, you’re a friend to me battling against our enemy, armor shield body guard, but my head is losing memory.

Never forget the memories of this wonderful sport, even if I’m older and all out of sort, inches away but came up short. What’s going on inside my head? Who are the voices I hear? I try to imagine but the images disappear. Search through iCloud, but nothing’s quite clear, is this something for me to fear? Don’t complain ‘cause men are tough, life is hard, the game is rough, the crazy thoughts, my brain is stuffed, is this God’s Plan, I need an angel’s touch, left behind, I was just angel’s dust.

This must be a mistake, I was meant to be great, losing my balance due to this shifted weight, stumble sometimes and can’t walk straight. Even though it’s for protection, my mind is like a weapon, I believe my whole life that this was my blessing; so why the rejection or the feelings of severe despondency and dejection. In other words it’s depressin’, to play the game my whole life and finally get taught the lesson. Not afraid to fail, not afraid to lose, didn’t know the scars would still bruise. I smile, inside me is still that little child, whose joy I haven’t felt in a while.

Round and Round, my head pounds the sound, of my heartbreak as my head mounds the ground. Telling me I’m up next and couldn’t be more closer, Doctors visit just to tell me that it’s over, tried to cry but I was given no shoulder, missing old days cause I hate getting older. I smile a lot, but I’m afraid. I laugh but I’m terrified, it’s something going on with what’s between my eyes.

Posted: March 15, 2018

I grew up in Carp, Ontario, a small town just outside of Ottawa. I was thrust into hockey right away as most young Canadian kids are. I immediately fell in love with the game and it has been my love ever since. I was able to play in the OHL with the Sarnia Sting in my junior career before I was forced to retire at the age of 22 due to concussion issues. I guarantee the majority of people know about me if you ask them. It’s not the fact that I was a hockey player they would remember, it’s the concussions they would remember.

Unfortunately, concussions have been the story of my life. My life and all decisions that have come with it have been affected by my concussions. Not being able to finish school, not being able to play the only game I knew. Relationships that ended due to personality changes. Losing people close to me because I have developed a bit of an anger issue. Losing all confidence in myself and looking in the mirror to see an exhausted, miserable person day after day. It’s tough. Some days are extremely hard to get through and there is no denying that. Mental illness has affected my life every day since my last concussion in March 2015. I have dealt with anxiety and depression issues, panic attacks and lack of sleep. All of these factors have affected me to the point where the person I once was seems to be gone.

 

However, you can always bring the positive out of something negative. I’m not thaaaaaaaat bad! Or, it could be worse! I’m very lucky to still have people close to me and to be able to coach the game I love. I have a job, I have two beautiful furry children (yes that means dogs) and I wake up every morning trying to do the best I can to win that day. Sometimes, I get crushed by the day. Other times, I know I crushed it.

It is nearly impossible for me to list all my concussions, when they occurred, and how they occurred. I received roughly 14 concussions in 10 years. Most of my concussions were from hockey and one I got from a car accident. Still, all my concussions were different. I remember getting one in hockey where I could not get out of bed the next day. Another time, I remember getting a concussion and feeling great the next morning. My most recent concussion, the car accident in March 2015, was the worst one I have ever had. It put me in a downhill mental health spiral. I let myself go for nearly two years until I said “enough is enough.” I had gained weight, lost relationships and lost close people in my life. I even lost myself for a while.

All the nightmares I had heard about concussion implications over the previous 10 years on depression, anxiety and sleep deprivation had come to life. It took me two years before I started to get better. It was something I had to make sure I was committed to; getting better. I know there are some things in life you cannot control, but I realized that every day I could at least try to ensure that I had a good day. This was something that I did not do for the first two years following my concussion after the car accident. It is only recently that I have decided to make a change and fight back. In June of 2017, I decided to commit to running a half marathon and raise money for concussion research. It has helped me drastically. A positive mindset added with your feet smacking the pavement chasing your dogs is an incredible kind of therapy. That meant getting up and going for a run, spending time with my dogs, saying no to going out for some beers or turning down a party where I’d feel some social anxiety. Some people didn’t understand. Some people have said that I’ve “been a ghost” but I knew I was doing what I needed to do to get better. At times, you have to be selfish about it. Always take care of number one!

Now, I am the best I have ever been. It’s kind of funny the change of tone that happened in just a few paragraphs. First starting off being negative, with the harsh things that come from concussions to now being positive and saying I am the best I have ever been. That’s the reality of concussions. One day, you will wake up feeling better. You try to string that one day into two days and then three days and so on and so forth. If there is one piece of advice that I can give you, don’t push away those wanting to help you. Make sure to lean on the people around you and use your support system.

The reason I am writing this is to let people know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. You will get through this. Some days it may seem like you have no chance of getting through it. Some days it’s okay to stay in bed all day, it’s okay not to answer your texts and it’s okay not to go out with your friends. At the end of the day, life is a marathon, it’s not a sprint. Make sure you are doing everything you can to ensure that you have a long and healthy life.

Posted: February 6, 2018

“As a woman, I know a lot of studies skew towards male subjects, so it’s important to have more female brains to study. I felt it was important for me to put my foot forward and pledge my brain to help this great cause and to learn more about the effects of sports. If it can help future generations, it’s worth it to me. I hope my actions can inspire others to do the same, specifically other athletes and specifically female athletes because any study has to have a balanced representation of both genders.”

Join Ruggiero and pledge to donate your brain here.