I didn’t really have much time to have a life outside of the amount of school work I had to do, and the amount of time I spent at the doctors. Every time I went I was forced to take a test which is now known as the impact test. The only problem my doctor had was that he had no baseline test to base me off. So each time I returned to the doctors I would take a new test, and hopefully it would be better than the one I took before. Visit after visit the tests got better. The concussion was so bad that I found myself in eye therapy, throwing a baseball back and forth with the trainer, stepping up and down on step stools, and drawing basic shapes. When I got cleared to go back to sports and regular activities, my doctor sat my parents and I down and told me this, “Ally, you are doing very well recovering, and I know it has been a very long journey, and there is still more to go. You have shown us that you are ready to go back to normal activities. That being said, you are allowed to go back to gym class, and sports, but I suggest that you do not return to any contact sports. I know you play basketball and soccer, but I recommend that you do not return to them. The next time you get hit in the head, either it be a basketball, or smashing your head with someone else’s head on the soccer field, it could be life threatening. So, as your doctor, I am advising you not to go back to either of those sports.” The room went quiet as I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from crying. The doctor visit was over for the day and I silently walked out of the office and sat myself in the backseat of my dad 's car. I remember that car ride home was especially quiet. After I released a rainstorm of tears, I wiped the last one off my face and stared out the window the entire way home. My dad tried to talk about it with me, but never got a response. It was an unsettling feeling to know I
I didn’t really have much time to have a life outside of the amount of school work I had to do, and the amount of time I spent at the doctors. Every time I went I was forced to take a test which is now known as the impact test. The only problem my doctor had was that he had no baseline test to base me off. So each time I returned to the doctors I would take a new test, and hopefully it would be better than the one I took before. Visit after visit the tests got better. The concussion was so bad that I found myself in eye therapy, throwing a baseball back and forth with the trainer, stepping up and down on step stools, and drawing basic shapes. When I got cleared to go back to sports and regular activities, my doctor sat my parents and I down and told me this, “Ally, you are doing very well recovering, and I know it has been a very long journey, and there is still more to go. You have shown us that you are ready to go back to normal activities. That being said, you are allowed to go back to gym class, and sports, but I suggest that you do not return to any contact sports. I know you play basketball and soccer, but I recommend that you do not return to them. The next time you get hit in the head, either it be a basketball, or smashing your head with someone else’s head on the soccer field, it could be life threatening. So, as your doctor, I am advising you not to go back to either of those sports.” The room went quiet as I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from crying. The doctor visit was over for the day and I silently walked out of the office and sat myself in the backseat of my dad 's car. I remember that car ride home was especially quiet. After I released a rainstorm of tears, I wiped the last one off my face and stared out the window the entire way home. My dad tried to talk about it with me, but never got a response. It was an unsettling feeling to know I