Last Sunday, I got my third concussion in two months.

It all started Aug. 28. Second half, no substitutions, my team was up one goal. Abby Dave, our number one goal-scorer, sends in an outside shot. So close, it’s going, it’s going…and their goalie catches it. Now comes the drop kick. I’m ready, the ball is coming right for me, I’m going to trap it and pass to Haley, She’s wide open. The ball’s almost here.

Grass. All I see is grass. Why do I see grass? Why am I crying? Why does my back feel like it’s going to detach from my body?

A header. The girl went for a header. She also went for an elbow into the back of my neck right where you back ends and your head begins.

We win that game.

So I sit out for a week, coach’s orders, but then I’m back. And man am I back. I play one of the best halves I’ve ever performed. Getting the ball left and right, clearing it, short passes. That was until I got double-teamed. A girl from the front knocks my wind out while her friend behind me no so gently elbows. You guessed it, that place where your back ends and your head begins.

We win that game.

Did you know you can get a concussion without hitting your head?

“Figure skaters can get them from falling so hard on their butts that it rattles their brain,” my doctor told me, “Sit out for two weeks, if you practice and feel better without any symptoms, you can play in a game scenario.”

So I did just that. Two weeks, no practices, no games, limited technology and lots of rest.

Thursday: I go out with a friend. Run around, pass, kick, shoot, everything. I feel fine, great even.

Friday: Drive down to Santa Cruz for the annual Santa Cruz Classic.

Saturday: I play two full games. We win both. I even get in a little argument with a not-so-agreeable forward on the other team.

Sunday: Now I wish I could tell you some underdog story about the girl with a concussion whose team comes back to win it all. But the reality? I don’t remember Sunday. Bits and pieces, sure, but not the whole picture. I’m told I was hit in the side of the head with the ball, and then tripped from behind. My coach tells me I landed on my head.

We did not win that game.

So six days. Complete house arrest. No texting, no TV, no computer, no reading, no exercise, no aggressive mental activity.

“I want you to sleep. The only time you should be out of your room is when you are eating, maybe some light conversation, but then back to bed,” my doctor said.

Wednesday and Thursday, I slept the whole day and hardly ate anything. I was only awake for two hours and spent those, just staring at my ceiling and trying to fall back asleep.

Friday-Sunday included more socializing. Friends came over for an hour each day, it was nice to see them again. The rest of the day was spent, once again, staring at my ceiling.

Monday was probably the worst. I was so awake, it felt like I had slept enough for two lifetimes. Yet, I still wasn’t allowed to do anything. I spent eight hours lying in bed, trying not to think too hard. For someone who’s mind is always active like mine, it was torture. I kept thinking about all the school work I would have to make up, or how I can’t play soccer for the rest of the season, or how this was going to affect my grades.

It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to go though. The painful headaches, constant dizziness and the dream-like stance my brain was in for that week were ruthless. However, I managed to survive my week as a vegetable, but with total consciousness.

Last Sunday, I got my third concussion in two months. I also got a major headache, a load of work to make-up, and a season’s excuse out of soccer.

by OLIVIA GRAHL