I was outside in the winter, balancing myself on an icy two-by-four, trying to cure my concussion.
Tennis balls were coming at me. One on my left. One on my right. I had to catch each one without slipping or using the same hand twice in a row. Every ball had to be quickly dropped into the bag I was carrying, which had to be speedily shifted from hand to hand before the next ball arrived. Plus, I had to walk the length of the two-by-four while doing all this. Falling off (stepping into the snow) meant failure. I looked pretty ridiculous doing it. However, the next exercise triggered major mockery: Jazz hands. Yes, it was called that. More about it down below. This is a good place to insert the essential reminders: this isn’t medical advice, concussions can be very different, and above all, consult a doctor. I have seen about three dozen and I will likely see more. The jazz hands exercise was designed to stimulate my peripheral vision. After many months, I was referred to an optometrist and therapist team that specializes in concussion recovery. Their tests showed (among other things) that after my injury, my brain was so overwhelmed by dizziness it had switched to a mild form of tunnel vision in an attempt to keep me upright. The plan was to change that. So I walked about my home, staring straight ahead with my hands held up near the edge of my vision and fluttering. For days. I looked like I was auditioning for a Bob Fosse play and I heard plenty from the critics with whom I live. Did it all that jazz (sorry) work? I can say that overall, the prescribed eye exercises, silly looking and otherwise, helped. The doctor and therapist were able to measure improvements. My peripheral vision became better and doing “jazz hands” isn’t tiring to me anymore. It was actually draining at first. Then my brain adjusted to the stimulation and my overall vision improved. Once again, the standard statements apply. Concussions can be very different. There is no guarantee that what works for one person will help another. It’s essential to check with a doctor. And, as a good friend of mine says, anecdotes aren’t data. Still, eye exercises did me some good and even came with a bonus. After months of work, my vision changed to the point where I actually earned a new driver’s license. Before my concussion, I had to wear glasses (“corrective lenses”) to drive. Not anymore. Tests by another optometrist verified it. But that isn’t the point of this post. That’s coming now. For years, my progress was very slow. Time was helping me heal but the standard treatments weren’t giving me much of a boost. Then my regular optometrist, hearing my story, suggested seeing a colleague who specializes in concussion recovery. Which led to tennis balls, jazz hands and measurable improvements. My thought is this. It can’t hurt to keep pestering medical people or friends or fellow concussion patients for treatment options. Keep the conversation going. Suffering in silence can’t help. Put your hands up. So to speak.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Havard GouldInjured journalist/writer determined to get his life back. Or something like it. Archives
June 2024
Categories |