I Followed My Doctor's Orders Religiously, But Didn't Seem To Get Better. Then I Made A Shocking Discovery.

Yahoo

5 days ago

I experienced my first concussion when I was 16. A poorly timed wave struck me while I was surfing and an abandoned kayak slammed into my head. I came home from the beach feeling nauseous and groggy, but I chalked it up to the rough day in the water. However, when I woke up the next morning with a piercing headache, I started to wonder if it was something more serious.
I decided to go to school that day, but the moment I sat down for my calculus lecture, I knew something was wrong. The equations on the whiteboard blurred before my eyes, and the room spun like a carnival ride.
I went to see a doctor and she confirmed my suspicions: I was concussed.
Sitting in the exam room, I read the recovery instructions the doctor gave me with a mixture of pain and a slight sense of relief. I was told to stay in a dark room with no stimulation — no loud noise, bright light, strong smells or cognitive triggers — until I felt my symptoms start to improve.
'How long will it take?' I asked. The doctor assured me that most concussions resolve within a week or two. We scheduled a follow-up for the following week, and before I left, she handed me thick packet of return-to-play guidelines intended for high school football players. The irony wasn't lost on me — I wasn't a football player.
I went straight home, popped an Advil, turned off the lights, and got in bed. As a perfectionist and a rule-follower, I stuck to the doctor's instructions religiously. My phone went on 'Do Not Disturb' and I committed myself to absolute rest.
The following days were agonizing — an endless cycle of boredom and restlessness. I spent most of the time staring at the ceiling with my thoughts clouded by an aching brain. By the end of the week, I was desperate to return to my normal routine. However, when I tried to read the morning newspaper, the words swirled on the page, and a throbbing pain forced me back into bed.
At my follow-up appointment, my doctor seemed unconcerned by my lingering symptoms. I was advised to continue brain rest and take another week off school.
A month later, I was still struggling. Mundane tasks like walking the dog, driving to the grocery store, or having a five-minute conversation felt almost impossible. I was living in a constant haze, as though I was trapped behind a concussion-induced fog. I returned to my doctor, who finally referred me to the concussion sports clinic at UCSF, where I began a long and frustrating journey of treatments including physical therapy, an occipital nerve block, acupuncture and electrical nerve stimulation, just to name a few.
It wasn't until the next year that I began to feel significantly better. The symptoms became more manageable, and I started resuming daily activities. But as anyone who has experienced a traumatic brain injury (TBI) knows, the risk of reinjury is high. Like a sprained ankle prone to future sprains, a concussed brain is more susceptible to subsequent injuries. Physicians found that post-concussion, there is a greater chance of sustaining another concussion and that those injuries often occur even if less force is involved and take longer to resolve.
My second concussion happened far less dramatically than my first. While laughing with a friend outside my senior high school history classroom, I stepped forward just as she stepped back, and our heads collided.
It seemed absurd that something so minor could cause such a significant setback. After all, as a child, I'd surely hit my head countless times on the playground or in dance class. But the symptoms were undeniable. In the years that followed, I experienced additional head injuries — from car doors, on crowded dance floors, and other unremarkable incidents.
While each concussion was uniquely challenging, there was a critical difference between my first and subsequent injuries: I had better information. During recovery from my second concussion, I stumbled upon a website called the Concussion Alliance. One section, in bold letters, read: Concussion Myths. One myth stood out: 'Do not lie in a dark room.' As I sat in the suffocating silence of my pitch-black room, tears streaming down my face, I realized I'd been doing everything wrong.
After discovering this information, I scheduled an appointment with a new doctor at the concussion clinic. She was shocked by the outdated advice I had initially received, and explained that many physicians still relied on obsolete concussion protocols due to the recent and ongoing changes in concussion research.
In 2022, the Concussion Sports Group published recovery guidelines based on the 6th International Conference on Concussion in Sport. Their findings confirmed that recommending strict rest until the complete resolution of concussion-related symptoms, sometimes referred to as cocooning or cocoon therapy, is often not beneficial. Relative rest (such as limiting screen time and other activities of daily living) is encouraged immediately and for up to the first two days after injury.
Slowly, I began incorporating parts of my daily routine back into my life, pushing just beyond my comfort zone but not to the point of danger. Surprisingly, weightlifting became my greatest ally. Through cautious and deliberate exercise, I found a way to challenge my body and rebuild my confidence. With time, I felt stronger — both physically and mentally.
With this new understanding, I began to approach concussion recovery in an entirely different way. To my pleasant surprise, I found that my subsequent concussions lasted only a fraction as long as my earlier ones did, and they didn't disrupt my social, academic, or daily life as much as they once had.
I am currently in my second year of undergraduate studies at UC Berkeley. From bunk beds to frat parties to scooter accidents, there are numerous opportunities for concussions to occur. I have been disheartened by the number of peers who have been diagnosed with concussions and still follow the same outdated protocols my doctor prescribed to me when I was 16.
One day, as I was aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, I stumbled upon a friend's story. In bold white letters on a black background, it read: 'No one ever tells you how bored you are with a concussion. Like, wtf am I supposed to do in the dark all alone? I'm bored.'
I immediately swiped up. My friend explained that she was in her second week of isolating in her room. I offered to hop on a call, but she couldn't tolerate phone conversations due to her symptoms, so we exchanged voice notes instead. She had been in a car accident and felt hopeless, unable to return to her normal life. I shared my own experience, and that day, she made a small step toward recovery by listening to her favorite podcast. A week later, I woke up to a message that read, 'Thank you. You saved me.'
Of course, I am not a physician and no one should attempt to heal from a concussion without professional medical advice. If you ever find yourself with a head injury, see a doctor immediately. However, it's never a bad idea to be informed and educated about TBI and the recent research that has upended the way concussions are treated. It is this information that could make a world of difference in your recovery.
Today, I still grapple with the lasting effects of my initial concussion. Amid the usual worries of maintaining a good GPA, securing a summer internship, and getting to class on time, the fear of hitting my head remains ever-present. I've discovered that I may always have lingering symptoms from my concussions, some of which are more difficult to pinpoint than others, including frequent migraines and difficulty with balance and coordination. But I've also found a path forward. I've used Botox treatments to help with my residual headaches and I am extra careful about avoiding crowded spaces where collisions are more likely to occur.
There is still so much we don't know about brain injuries, but what we do know should be used wisely. Recovery for me — and now the vast majority of people — isn't about shutting out the world and living in complete darkness. It's about balance, patience, and informed care. My experience taught me that healing is possible, but it starts with access to the right information.
Sarah Goody is a social entrepreneur and climate activist currently studying at the University of California, Berkeley. She is the founder of Climate NOW, a global youth-led organization that has empowered over 10,000 young people to take action on climate change. Her activism has garnered political attention from leaders, and she has served as an advisory member for Lady Gaga's Born This Way Foundation. Recognized for her impact, Sarah received the prestigious Princess Diana Award in 2020. She is passionate about the intersections of public health, sustainability, business, and law.
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