Personal Narrative: My First Concussions In Organic Medicine
I have very few memories of the day that I obtained my first concussion in the spring of my sophomore year at Tulane. I was feeling stressed that day, I had an Organic Chemistry quiz the next morning and was squeezing in study time between classes and diving practice. At practice, thoughts of Organic Chemistry were distracting me from my work out; I remember leaving the board, and then seeming to reappear on the pool deck with my coach barking at me in a language I did not understand. I just stared at him, too perplexed and confused to speak a word. I did not know it then, but the concussion diagnosis marked the beginning of a long journey into the inner workings of medicine from the other side, that of a patient. What I discovered would amuse,
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As a child, I became obsessed with obscure and strange diseases. I read anything I could find on the topic and freely shared my newfound knowledge with anyone who would sit still to listen. A National Geographic about how close we came to wiping out Malaria in the 1980s, but cut the funding so it still existed infuriated me for weeks. After reading “The Hot Zone,” my family threatened to disown me if I would not stop describing hemorrhagic fevers and black bile during meals.
By the time I entered college, I knew medicine was my calling. (Describe your joy in going to pre-med classes along with your excitement at diving for an A division School then transition with the concussion)
The beginnings of my frustrations lay with maintaining my academic record while concussed. I have always been an excellent student; learning was easy and enjoyable. When I studied, it stayed with me and percolated in my brain inspiring fresh ideas. Attending school with a concussion was completely different. I needed to develop new skills and profound patience with my slower pace. After finding myself on the pool deck unable to understand words, the rest of that spring semester would take laborious intense effort to complete my classes. It was as if learning leaked from my mind through my ears.
I did heal
As a child, I became obsessed with obscure and strange diseases. I read anything I could find on the topic and freely shared my newfound knowledge with anyone who would sit still to listen. A National Geographic about how close we came to wiping out Malaria in the 1980s, but cut the funding so it still existed infuriated me for weeks. After reading “The Hot Zone,” my family threatened to disown me if I would not stop describing hemorrhagic fevers and black bile during meals.
By the time I entered college, I knew medicine was my calling. (Describe your joy in going to pre-med classes along with your excitement at diving for an A division School then transition with the concussion)
The beginnings of my frustrations lay with maintaining my academic record while concussed. I have always been an excellent student; learning was easy and enjoyable. When I studied, it stayed with me and percolated in my brain inspiring fresh ideas. Attending school with a concussion was completely different. I needed to develop new skills and profound patience with my slower pace. After finding myself on the pool deck unable to understand words, the rest of that spring semester would take laborious intense effort to complete my classes. It was as if learning leaked from my mind through my ears.
I did heal