Just One More | Teen Ink

Just One More

November 30, 2012
By Jared Bostrom BRONZE, Nashotah, Wisconsin
Jared Bostrom BRONZE, Nashotah, Wisconsin
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Suddenly gasping for breath. I make a last effort to stay as I am. Smack! The earth crumbles beneath my feet. Everything’s black, what is this place? Where am I? I wake up in a different room. How did I get here? Millions of thoughts rushing through my head. I’ve felt this way before.

One month. Exactly how long since the last time this happened. Playing hockey is a rough sport I guess. How many hits can a guy take before he falls? For me it took just one. Bashed against the boards I first lose my bearing; then the world slips away as I collide between glass and pad. I wake up in the locker room, team huddled round, I can’t think straight. I’ve felt this way before.

Two weeks. It’s the championship game. Nerves spiraling up my body, head to toe I’m flushed with fear. This is the most important game. My coach gives an inspiring speech and all of us head to the rink. The puck gets dropped. I race to the boards to retrieve it and help score an early goal. I get hit. I drop to my knees. I clench my stomach, my head ringing as if struck with a boulder. I start skating back to the bench. Black. I wake up in the personal trainers office, ice pack on my burning head. I’ve felt this way before.

Five days. I’m in practice. Just a little friendly completion between teammates. A pickup game erupts at the end of the practice. I’m skating with the puck. Full steam ahead straight for the goal. I see my friend coming at me, preparing to lay on a hit. I quickly try to maneuver. My footing is lost. My friend has no idea. He hits me. I go flying into the boards and hit the ground. It felt like nothing more than going to sleep. It’s the first time it’s happened. A concussion. What I didn't know was there was more to come.


The author's comments:
Essay about concussions and there effect on my life

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