I don't remember the first concussion I sustained. I don't remember the third, the sixth or the tenth. But I do remember the last.

A seemingly innocuous tap to the back of my head during an adult league hockey game left me fumbling for words through a blinding headache. Ignoring the signs of concussion, I opted to go to work the next day and found myself incapable of completing even simple tasks. Later that day I struggled to navigate backing my truck out of a friend’s steep driveway and nearly rolled the vehicle into the ditch. When the tow truck came to pull my truck out of its precarious situation, the driver was dumbfounded as to how I had managed to mess up backing out of the driveway in the first place.



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