By Kirsten Short 

Sacha, my yoga instructor, said at the end of this evening’s class: “Sometimes things don’t always go as planned and that’s okay. There will be bumps in the road, but know that you are more than able and capable to get through these challenges.” “Ugh. That’s just great,” I thought, “Here I am trying to enjoy my last savasana and be mindful, and all I can think about are my detours and embracing them. THANK-YOU Sacha!”

Okay. Okay. I wasn’t really that mad. How could I be? Sacha just gave me a great topic to write about: Embrace. Life’s. Detours. Repeat this phrase three times. Write it down. Remember it. Make it your mantra.

I am confident that Janine Shepherd would give the same advice. When a car accident shattered her dreams of representing Australia in the 1988 Winter Olympics, Shepherd was devastated. Not only would she never be able to ski competitively again, but she was also paralyzed from the waist down. Yet, it was when she was at her lowest, that she found her will to live and the strength to move on:

“I had a choice: I could keep fighting this, or I could let go and accept not only my body, but the circumstances of my life. And then I stopped asking, 'Why me?' And I started to ask, 'Why not me?' And then I thought to myself, maybe being at rock bottom is actually the perfect place to start... even though I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do, in that uncertainty came a sense of freedom. I was no longer tied to a set path. I was free to explore life's infinite possibilities. And that realization was about to change my life. Sitting at home in my wheelchair and my plaster body cast, an airplane flew overhead. I looked up, and I thought to myself, 'That's it! If I can't walk, then I might as well fly.'"

Within the year, she had earned her pilot’s license. She is now a best-selling author and a heavily sought after motivational speaker. Click here to listen to her full TED talk: “A Broken Body isn’t a Broken Person” — it’s one of my favourites.

Although my story is very different from and definitely not as inspirational as Shepherd’s, I can absolutely relate to her and her message. Shepherd stresses the power and importance of the human spirit and that we are more than our physical limitations. “I know that I am not my body, and I also know that you aren’t yours.” My concussion occurred on February 19, 2017. While at a friends house, I fell, hit my chin on the way down, and knocked myself out. I don’t remember much from the accident; I only know that it drastically and dramatically changed my life. My recovery over the last 16 months has been painfully slow. My post concussion symptoms, mainly the fatigue, chronic migraines and blurry vision, have made it impossible for me treturn to my job as a CPA (at least for now).

The good news? Yes, there is good news. In the midst of the pain, tears and setbacks, I have found an upside: passion. Over the last year (and some), I have seen how costly and frustrating the Canadian Health Care System is for acquired brain injury survivors and their families (as I'm sure anyone reading this knows). I WANT TO CHANGE THIS. I am starting small and in the city where my injury occurred: Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada. (You can read an article CBC North wrote about me here.) I am so excited to see what I can accomplish!

And more importantly, I know now — without a doubt — that Shepherd was right: I AM more than my disability. Life happens sometimes. It can be unpredictable, tough and unfair. The secret to getting through these difficult times? Use the setbacks. Take the opportunity to reinvent your life. Find your spirit. And yes, embrace life’s detours.

(You can read more from Kirsten Short on her personal blog!)

By Abigail Mclellan 
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As someone dealing with Post Concussion Syndrome, and a student of Cognitive Science, I was very impressed by a recent  lecture on pain given by Dr. Jeffrey Mogil. It appears that the paradigms used by pain researchers have not been applied or adapted to Post Concussion care, nor have pain researchers considered Post Concussion Syndrome as a case of chronic pain.

What makes post concussion pain so unusual under the pain paradigms is that it is a case of chronic pain that appears to be evoked pain, since it correlates with certain activities. Typically, chronic pain is thought to be spontaneous, that is, not correlated with a particular activity. This contrasts acute pain, which warns of a danger to quickly avoid, or tonic pain (days, weeks or a few months) which suggests rest and immobility of the pained area, to optimize healing. In contrast, chronic pain is considered spontaneous because the pain seems to persist after its cause is no longer there (like phantom limbs continuing to hurt). In the cases where the cause does persist (like in cancer pain) researchers wonder if the pain might promote general caution, which might keep the individual away from dangerous situations considering their compromised health. It certainly directs them to a healthcare professional, which hopefully increases their chance of recovery.

In all cases, pain acts as a clue that something is wrong. What makes chronic pain so strange is that often, the only thing that is wrong seems to be that the person is experiencing pain. This has been a breakthrough in thinking because it allows both the patient and the doctor to only worry about the problem of pain itself. But when something more is going on, it is important to use the bodies clue to explore underlying issues. Pain from inflammation might be caused by the food someone eats, which means that any other method of mitigating that pain would leave the underlying inflammation a serious health problem.

When evoked pain is correlated to an activity, the message is clear to avoid the activity. This works so well in the case of the broken arm. Any movement causing pain is avoided. However, with inflammatory pain evoked by food, it might feel spontaneous. This is because the pain does not occur immediately after eating the food, and it becomes a challenge to sift between many possible causes. Pain may feel spontaneous on the surface before we understand what is evoking it. How many types of evoked pain might we be missing?

I would argue that Post Concussion Syndrome is a case of chronic pain that is evoked. This means that the pain occurs when the individual does certain activities, and stops when they stop doing the activity. Like in the tonic case, this can be useful to prevent the individual from overdoing themselves. The problem is that the pain might be correlated with doing most of the things that provide meaning in life: music, socialization, exercise, reading, playing games, and thinking deeply. New research agrees that doing nothing all day in a dark room does not promote recovery. The problem is that when the sensation of pain is so strongly correlated to the level of activity, even low levels of pain stop activity. In my case, it's not necessarily the intensity of post concussion pain that makes it debilitating, it is the fact that it pops up whenever I start to do something. That, and its direct association to the times when I can't think and feel myself slowing down.

Like with a food sensitivity, the evoked pain of Post Concussion Syndrome does not always arrive immediately after a provoking event. Instead, it might take a few hours to kick in. This makes it hard to directly pinpoint which activities are more problematic. In addition, it seems to be cumulative, so that something that is usually not a problem or even energizing can provoke pain on a low day. This cumulative effect can often cause unpredictable crashes when looking at the last day. It is only in looking at the last few weeks that levels of pain and fatigue make more sense. For these reasons, the evoked pain can be even more frustrating, because it is not easy to get a grasp on. It is much more complicated than keeping an arm still. 

At its most extreme level, a concussion effects almost every voluntary behaviour. When teaching children, I explain that the first step to recovery is No Activity. When asked what they can still do, we list sleep and eating as the two safe bets, though sleep disturbances and nausea may make even these activities difficult. We tell the kids to stay in this stage until they have no symptoms, and then slowly to progress up to Some Activity, More Activity until Back To Normal. We stress that at the sign of any symptom, they should return to No Activity. The underlying message to this procedure is clear: activity provokes symptoms. Evoked pain. 

This procedure for an injury to the brain is along the same lines as one you would advice for an injury to the arm, with one key difference. Behaviour involving the arm is localized, behaviour involving the brain is pretty much all behaviour. Most people are pretty bad at doing nothing, which makes it essential that this advice is given in a way that increases its chance of being listened to. Doing nothing might look different for different people. Anxiety can be a huge energy drain, and crying all day can cause a headache worse than the concussion. This makes concussion protocol a difficult balancing act. The key message is to rest, the hard question is what does that look like?

90% of concussions resolve in 6-8 weeks. The numbers might change but the message we tell children is clear. Concussion recovery happens. Good rest promotes quicker recoveries. And most importantly, we stress that the rest in the beginning is the most effective: three weeks of rest right away saves the months or years needed when initial rest isn’t taken. This is where concussions become chronic: the initial healing didn’t fully happen and now conventional advice to rest becomes problematic. 

But doing no activity for months and years cannot be healthy, and is in fact depressing and isolating. Something else is needed.

What is going on in this post concussion situation? Symptoms have persisted into the chronic stage, and seem to be evoked by a variety of behaviours. Some people get headaches and fatigue when they read, others get dizzy and nauseous from exercise. Individuals suffering from post concussion syndrome tend to adapt their lifestyle to avoid overly provoking symptoms. We demonstrate avoidance behaviour, the common response to pain. But when the thing we are trying to avoid is our entire life, full of its various pleasures, it becomes a delicate balancing act.

If the goal is to prevent pain from restricting one’s lifestyle, this goal must look to the future. A painkiller does not work if it allows me to push myself for one day to the point of fatigue which requires a week to recover. Likewise, developing high pain tolerance in the face of symptoms contradicts this goal if it provokes an increase in neurodegeneration and associated symptoms in the long run. What makes this question so urgent is that the opposite could very well be true. Avoiding pain could very well be the cause of neurodegneration, if the situation is comparable to the pain required to re-strengthen hurt muscles. If injured cognitive functions require targeted activity to recover, pain associated with this activity is part of recovering. Leaving the vestibular, visual, processing, and language systems unhealed does not seem good for long term brain health. If pain goes along with the recovery of these types of systems, it is not a bad thing. 

This is the paradigm I have been living under for five years. To recover a deficit, I must work on this deficit. Sub-symptom threshold training would be ideal. This is when the activity is below the level that provokes symptoms. However, this is a challenge in practice when many things provoke symptoms, and fatigue is not compartmentalized. Once one thing tires me, my tolerance for other activity drops. Playing music usually helps me regain my energy, but if I am tired enough, the situation flips and it to provokes symptoms. So I can’t measure a standard sub-threshold activity's length and intensity and simply keep in that range. I have to use the symptoms themselves as a clue that I need to rest. Masking the pain that is a common symptom tends to lead to a bigger more debilitating crash later. For example, working out is healthy, but not if muscles need 3 weeks of recovery time after each session. The muscles would lose all the strength they had just gained, during that resulting inactivity. This idea is supported by concepts like the Parkwood Pacing Program. They advise avoiding cycles of high activity and subsequent low periods, and instead slowly building up strength in small increments. Extreme symptoms do not mean that further harm is occurring, but they may slow down recovery.

This concept helped my healing because it allowed a balance between still pushing, but not feeling guilt in the cases when I push to hard. Guilt insidiously turns healthy activities unhealthy, so a framework to understand pain in a positive light is important. Attitude can make the same activity stressful and energy draining, or exciting, tiring but motivating. 

This is the reality when it comes to thinking about recovery. This framework has allowed me to balance the desire to avoid pain with the joy I get from certain activities that cause this pain. It means accepting pain as part of the road to recovery. No research can change this. What can change is the upper and lower limits. How much pain is too much? How much rest is too much? With many lifestyle aspects we don’t have a choice, we must learn to cope. But for other activities we do have a choice. We don’t have to take long drives, or go to loud concerts, or study at university. Certainly contact sports or military service push the limits of Post Concussion Syndrome. Activities with a high risk of re-injury should be avoided. But beyond that, the line is not clear. In the short term I might have less symptoms when I am not in school, but in the long term, school work might be the very activity that stimulates healing. More generally, what activities stimulate healing and which increase the likelihood of neurodegeneration? And by how much? The problem is, we don’t have an answer to this, so lifestyle decisions are difficult to make. 

How has pain limited my lifestyle the past 5 years? Big crashes limit my lifestyle, as does chronic fatigue. But the constant presence of pain can actually enhance my lifestyle if it is used as a clue to predict fatigue. It might be the very thing that lets me maximize the limited energy that I do have. 

In my lecture last week, I learnt that pain is an unpleasant sensory or emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage. In all cases, pain feels like cell damage, but is not always. Knowing the difference is huge. It makes me wonder, if one day research will show that the pain evoked by my lifestyles does indeed cause tissue damage. Somehow, I think not. Despite living in a materialistic age, I know that I can’t grasp at immortality, and must live this life now, in these moments. I try to live a healthy life so that I can do the things I love, not to prevent me from doing these things. It would be for nothing if I spent my entire life not living, just to die with a healthy body.

My first year was going great, it really was. There was an injury on our rugby team, so I quickly jumped into a starting role, which placed me on cloud nine. It’s an athlete’s dream – to be on the starting line of your university team, when you’re only a few weeks into your first year. But there was a game that changed how things went for me. We were playing Laval, and I started the second half. I was playing prop, meaning that my job was to hit people so that other people didn’t get hit, and when called upon, inch your way up the field with the ball. We weren't playing well at all and it was turning into a bit of run around when this girl ROCKED me. Like I flew backward, hit my head on not only the other girl’s head, but my head hit the ground very hard. I wasn’t ready for the hit and take full blame for that. I remember nothing from when the hit happened until I got home about 6 hours later. The only thing I do remember was that I finished the game. But my friends remember that I was, dazed and confused. But I finished the game, I went into autopilot, went through the motions and got myself from point A to point B for the rest of the game. I don’t really know why or how, but I guess that happens. I took two practices off, to brush off the cobwebs, then insisted that I was good to go and could play the coming week. So I did. And everything went back to "normal".

What I didn’t realize is that my "normal" was becoming pretty interesting. Running in a straight line was getting tougher, but in my position that wasn’t that big of a deal, looking back, a headache was consistent throughout most days, and I pretty much stopped reading completely. It was so gradual that I didn’t really notice anything changing. It was no one’s fault, it just kind of happened.  Again I blame no one.

In our biggest game of the year I got another concussion, as well as fractured my nose. I’m not really sure what happened, but I know my nose was not straight and there was lot of blood. But we scored on the play and I was so into the game I really didn’t even think about it. That was the best game I ever played at McGill. My new normal now involved the room spinning though, and I would often see stars, but it was again, very gradual so I thought nothing of it. The rest of the year went off without a hitch and I was just doing what I normally do, and trying to get better. But lifting weights was getting so hard – as in it was harder than it should have been. Getting lightheaded from lifting isn't uncommon, but this was different – I almost felt like I would black out. But I was so good at hiding it, and I would often just think that I was very out of shape, so I would push myself harder. Looking back that probably wasn’t the smartest. Not to mention I was engaging in many normal university activities, many of which often involved drinking, and if anyone knows what a party at McGill is like when you're in first year and living in Molson hall, I think you can fill in the blanks of how some of my nights went.

In October of the next year though, I just physically couldn't do it anymore. It had all come full circle and I was so done with rugby. Looking back, I wasn’t done with rugby –I was done with getting lost on campus, scared of getting hit again and again, when I had never been one to be fearful, and so damn frustrated with where my head was at. I told my coaches and teammates I wasn’t playing anymore and they were awesome. I had told two of the girls before the practice and kindly asked that they didn’t say anything until I talked to the coaches. They kept my wish and if it wasn’t for them I don’t know what I would have done – there is a good chance I would still be playing today, but they knew, better than I did, that I needed to stop playing and risking my brain. For once my stubborn pride did not win. I thought it would start getting better. But I couldn’t get myself to go to the doctor for a few months, because I refused to think I was done, and I kept telling myself I’ll be fine. But when February of 2016 came around, while already on concussion recovery protocol, I got the worst concussion of my life… from slipping at a party.
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I was the sober one that night – I did not want to drink because of my concussions, but someone took my phone so I ran after them and slipped, flew backwards and smashed my head. I remember one of my best friends looking at me and I could see the look on his face, it was the look someone gets right before they say, "Oh shit". The rest of the night was hell –it's pretty personal – but for the first time in a long time, I was terrified. My friends were worried, and I don’t blame them, but from the bottom of my heart, I cannot thank them enough for sticking with me for the next year. It was just as bad for them as it was for me. I had a friend who would check in on me nearly every day, friends offered up their apartments because they knew I didn’t want anyone to know if I was having a bad night. Friends offered to write my assignments because I couldn't look at computer screens, there was mental health concerns and a good friend of mine never once ignored my calls and became one of the only people I have ever truly trusted. Friends would sit with me in the dark, and wait till I fell asleep to leave. I don’t know how my stubbornness didn’t chase them off, but every single time I needed something, they were always there, even if it was addressing the same issue for the tenth time in a month. I could go on and on about the people who helped me, but those are some things that stand out. Anyone can talk about doctors and appointments, but my friends are the people that pushed me through. I didn’t want to worry my parents, so without my friends I have no idea where I would be. When someone knows you’re in a tough spot and they allow you to be honest and vulnerable with them, and they continue to be endlessly encouraging and supportive about you getting better, those are friends and things that you cannot, and never will, forget.

by Shannon Cambell

It’s extremely difficult for me to comment on life after a concussion.
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There’s two reasons for this. First of all, head injuries manifest in many different ways. Often, the symptoms and recovery period vary from person to person. Furthermore, I have very little specific memory of the months immediately following my accident.

In the aftermath of my concussion, I experienced the typical physical symptoms: fatigue, headaches, nausea, balance problems. Thankfully, these symptoms were fairly short-lived and I returned to seemingly normal life quite quickly. The funny thing about concussions, however, is that they can have a resounding impact on the deepest levels of the human brain. As a result, concussion victims often forget how to learn. In my case, I think it was probably the dangerous combination of the inability to retain information and the inability to concentrate that made this true.

Rebuilding the Foundation
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I struggled through more than a year of a full-time course load before I realized something was off. It didn’t seem to matter how much time I put into readings and other studying; nothing ever stuck. The only measurable progress I was making was in my study of Portuguese, which I was pursuing on my own time.

Wait a minute.

I was making progress?? There had to be a reason why I was successful in this area of study over all my others. It was extremely frustrating, struggling to no end in school while achieving inexplicable success in a subject that would have no direct impact on my academic standing.

Learning a language requires a special combination of many methods of absorbing information. Any experienced student of languages will tell you how important it is to interact with other people in the language that you are studying. That is, you must immerse yourself. I had dedicated myself to this method of learning. I was spending a significant amount of time each day essentially living my life in Portuguese.

It took me a while to realise that it was this approach to learning to which I should attribute my rapid jump to conversationalism. I dawdled, entertaining the unapologetic notion that it was my natural ability with languages that had contributed to my early success. Eventually, I came around to the fact that learning something new comes down to one thing: the concept of immersion learning.

The next step I took was to apply this approach to my other subjects of study. It’s not always clear how to accomplish this, but I’ve developed a pretty good technique. When learning a language, you try to live your life as if you are a native speaker. The language needs to become a part of your everyday life. This means that you should incorporate whatever is it you’re trying to learn into your day-to-day activities. For me, this meant addressing each problem that my life outside of the classroom presents as if I was already an expert in my subject of study. This frame of reference not only changed my attitude towards these issues, but also had me seeking out new information beyond what was taught in the classroom. The involvement of my own life drove me to be a more thorough, creative and positive student.

The use of practical application is not an unfamiliar concept to many experienced educators. Problem-based learning is a self-directed form of study in which students work to solve a problem for which there is no defined solution or answer. This encourages critical thinking, personal research and continuous learning.

Immersion learning that many language learners recommend is a form of problem-based learning that forces us to address communication issues before we have the capacity to do so. When we don’t know a specific word, we learn to talk around it and describe what we mean. Our approach to learning other subjects should reflect the experience of learning languages. First, we encounter a problem. We must then discover what knowledge we need to directly solve the problem, and determine other potential solutions.

Immediately following my concussion, I believed that my mental capacity had been permanently damaged. My discovery of problem-based learning showed me that I wasn’t damaged. I was simply different. While this approach to learning is certainly useful for all students, my hope is that it will be specifically relevant to other concussion victims. Anyone who has suffered a concussion will be familiar with the despair that comes with post-concussion syndrome. Remember that recovery is always possible when you embrace the person you have become.

"Times of great calamity and confusion have been productive for the greatest minds. The purest ore is produced from the hottest furnace. The brightest thunder-bolt is elicited from the darkest storm."

Charles Caleb Colton

Sources and further reading:
Towards a language-based theory of learning, M.A.K. Holiday.
Foundations of Problem-based Learning, Maggi Savin-Baden and Claire Howell Major
Place-based Education: Learning to Be Where We Are, Gregory A. Smith

April 5th 2013 is a date that has stuck with me. It's funny when doctors ask if you remember the exact date. Do you remember the date that changed your life? Um yes, I do. Duh. So April 5th 2013 means that tomorrow marks 3 years of my slow and steady concussion recovery. What was I doing three years ago today? I remember running up Mount Royale at night, enjoying the  warmth of spring. Ask me that question tomorrow night and I'll tell a different story. One of an elbow in the face and a visit to emerge. The four weeks that followed were a whirlwind of studying for exams despite headaches. Pushing through pain was something I had learnt. Most of the time that drive helps me succeed. Those weeks, it was probably the factor that delayed my recovery weeks and ultimately years. 

It's not only bad days that stick with us. My concussion recovery has some good days that will forever stand out. The semester following my concussion I was still in pretty bad shape. I was only taking one course. My days consisted of small achievements. Going to the grocery store. Having a conversation with out getting tired.  Yet that semester had a special day. I was not the date (some Friday in October) that I remember. It was the things I did. I met a new friend and took the metro to visit La Rouche Art Hive. From there, I visited an old friend who had just moved to Montreal. On my way home that night I stopped by the Yellow Door CoffeeHouse for the first time. These might seem like small things, but let me tell you, for me, it was huge! That night, I went to bed full of energy and inspiration.

In concussion recovery progress can go slow. In can be marked in months and years. Thinking about the days can get you down. If it takes years to mark progress, that is ok. 2 years ago, I was in two classes. 1 year ago I tried to take 4 courses, and ended up having to drop 2 of them. This year, I am in three classes and keeping up with everything. For the first two years I couldn't run. Now I go for jogs and don't get any symptoms. 

While I am slowly building up my endurance, I am not trying to return to how I was before. 3 years ago, I played trumpet in a symphonic band, but I didn't know how to play guitar or sing. I loved art, but rarely took out my paint brush. I had a passion for reading, but rarely the time to open a book. Today, I combine these creative activities with the my academic interests and passion for the outdoors. Going back to who I was before would not include these positive changes.

I've come so far these three years. I've learnt not to define myself by the things I do, for those can be lost. Instead I am what I think and who I love. What I think changes, but I will always be thinking, always be loving. My passion for truth will continue to drive me through the highs and lows. 

These past three years have had their fare share of pain. I've gone to sleep crying in pain and frustration, unable to complete what should have been an easy assignment. I've felt lost, trying to think, and realizing that even that has been temporarily stolen. But, as a wise friend told me, suffering is an essential part of the human experience. I cannot regret that suffering, for it is a part of being human. I will put my energy into life. Sometimes, this causes pain, but more often, I am satisfied by what I achieve and learn. 

So, on my third anniversary of concussion, I have decided to celebrate. I celebrate the health I do have, and the recovery I am every day making. I celebrate all the joy and love in my life.

Often I fear thinking about getting better. A part of me desperately wants to get better, and I am wary to let that part out, lest I am disappointed. Yet today I am optimistic. Today I will say, concussion GO AWAY! I am going to celebrate my 3 year anniversary with a nice run up Mount Royale tomorrow night. 

Please click here to finish reading this amazing article by ADAM ESTOCLET.

Belle Kim for Her Campus McGill (HC McGill): What is SLICE?
Abbie McLellan (AM): SLICE stands for Sports Legacy Institute Community Educators. Our parent organization is Sports Legacy Institute, which focuses on concussion education, policy and research. We are Community Educators, meaning our members will be trained in the official SLICE presentation, and present what they learn to middle schools and high schools. The goal is to educate our community, including the McGill student body, teachers, coaches, and parents about what a concussion is, why concussions are worth caring about, and what can be done if someone gets a concussion.


HC McGill: Why the focus on sports?
AM: Sports have caused concussions to come into the spotlight in recent years, making it an ideal topic to get the word out, especially to young people. Also, sports injuries tend to be under-reported because athletes have grown up in the culture of sucking it up for the team. If we can use the topic of sports to educate young people about concussions, hopefully what they learn will stick with them and help them in future situations.


HC McGill: Who is SLICE geared towards?

AM: SLICE is geared towards university students interested in educating younger students about concussions. Special interest may stem from students in fields such as, but in no way limited to, kinesiology, neuroscience, anatomy, and physical education. A student who has already received a concussion may also be interested in sharing their story. In addition, our club provides support to students who are dealing with concussions. 


HC McGill: How did you get involved? Have you had any personal experience with concussion? How did you deal with it then? 

AM: I got involved with the program after getting a concussion on April 5, 2013 while playing basketball at Rez Warz. Now, almost 19 months later, I am still dealing with symptoms from that concussion. This post-concussion syndrome probably occurred because I didn’t handle my concussion properly. I studied for four exams right after getting hit, not realizing that someone with a concussion needs mental rest as well as physical. I realize now that I was totally unprepared to handle my treatment, and saw that other people who had concussions were in similar positions. The thing about concussions is that recovery is totally dependent on proper treatment, but once you get a concussion, your ability to make smart decisions is impaired. As a result of not treating my concussion properly, I canceled all my plans for that summer, and only took one course when I came back to McGill. My life has been profoundly impacted. Some of those impacts have been good, for example, I got back into art and learned to play the guitar. In that sense, I dealt with the aftermath of my concussion very optimistically. After my experience, I saw it as essential to better educate my community so that next time someone gets a concussion, they will know that it is a serious injury, and will have the tools to treat it. At the time of my concussion, McGill didn’t have any student support group, so I decided to bring the SLICE initiative to our campus.
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HC McGill: You must already have a lot of students interested in joining SLICE. How can one get involved?
AM: You can check out the website to learn how to get involved. Right now, the two main options we offer are to become an educator, or join our support group. The great thing about becoming an educator is that even if you just do the training, the topics covered in the training are essential for all people to know. The support group is open to people with concussions, but also friends and family members of people with a concussion, in order to better support them in their life.The club is also working on a coalition between different medical experts in the field of head trauma. This will help make sure research doesn’t overlap, but also help treatment become more interconnected. Students who are interested in the research side of concussions can get in touch at sportslegacyinstitute.mcgill@gmail.com to find out more.


HC McGill: I know that the club just begun this semester. It must be an exciting time for you. Can you tell me what the club's hopes and goals are for the future?
AM: I think the biggest goal for us is that if a student gets a concussion on campus, they will know the steps to take: registering with MyAccess, talking to their advisor, getting accommodations, and finally resting. Or, if they don’t know what to do, they will know that we are here to help and answer all their questions. It is very difficult for students to stop studying during the school year, but sometimes rest is the most important thing. If our club can be the one to encourage and support students in the decision to rest, then we have succeeded in tackling the concussion crisis.


HC McGill: Are there any events coming up that you would like the readers to know about?
AM: We are very aware that McGill students are hitting the books for finals! Thats why we have decided to kick off our first big training session of the school year in early January. Coming to training is a great way to educate yourself, whether or not you plan on giving presentations in the future.
Check out the McGill SLICE Faceook page or their website for more information and to share your concussion stories, among other's shared on the website. 

I received a concussion April 2013 playing basketball at a McGill Rez War event. I didn't get the chance to rest, instead writing 4 exams, and found myself helplessly upside down once summer hit. I canceled all my summer plans, and ended up returning to school in the fall for one class. Recovery has been slow but curiously rewarding.