Last updated on February 6th, 2026

A year ago today (November 21, 2015), my life changed completely with a dirty elbow to the head from an opposing teammate. That’s when I was introduced to the effects of post-concussion syndrome.

It was during a pre-season hockey tournament in Kitchener, with my new team, Brampton Canadettes Senior A.

She received a penalty. I went to the bench, knowing right away that I didn’t feel right, but our team was already short-handed, and I didn’t want to put us down another player on the bench. So I kept my mouth shut.

I played the rest of the game, constantly trying to refocus my eyes every time I lined up for a faceoff. I remember feeling nauseous and dizzy every time my shift ended and I was sitting back on the bench.

I couldn’t tell you how the game finished, whether we won or lost. I remember getting undressed and texting my boyfriend, who had been watching from the crowd, that I didn’t feel well. We had a few hours in between games and went out for lunch.

When I got back to the rink, I vaguely remember talking to my coaches to let them know that I didn’t really feel that great, but I wanted to get on the ice at least for the warm-up and see how I felt, because we were facing a team I really wanted to play.

At some point during the game, I made the decision to bench myself because I knew I wasn’t okay. Never did I imagine I wouldn’t be back for the rest of the season, and that one year later I wouldn’t have picked up my stick or worn my skates, and might never lace them up in a game again.

What is POST-CONCUSSION SYNDROME? 

Post-Concussion Syndrome, or PCS, is a set of neuropsychological symptoms that may last weeks, months, or years after a concussion. PCS can impair the ability to think, do, and know, with memory, mood, and attention deficits being the top three complaints.

Unfortunately, I am no stranger to concussions. In the 15 months leading up to this concussion, I suffered two others. One was at the Canadian Ball Hockey Association Nationals in August 2014 (another blind-sided elbow to the head that crumpled me to my knees), the other was when a 25-pound weight plate fell off a rack onto my face at the gym while I was working in July 2015.

Both times, I went to see a doctor immediately after. Both times I left with a concussion diagnosis and was told to rest. No MRIs or other scans (not that concussions show up on those anyway), no recovery plan.

Before those, I suffered at least four other concussions, going back as early as five or six years old, when I fell off a set of monkey bars and slammed the back of my head off the platform in the park.

So this time around, I knew I had a concussion and didn’t bother going to see a doctor. Waiting four to five hours in the ER to be sent back home with a concussion diagnosis was a waste of my time.

But, even with all the rest and sitting in the dark, I wasn’t getting better. I tried to go watch a few of my team’s games, but the arena lights and the sound of the buzzer sent a wave of symptoms over. I spent days at a time being too nauseous to stomach food. I could barely get out of bed the first few weeks.

But I still had to go to work in a brightly lit gym with loud music blaring, lifting heavy weights, putting them away, and staring at computer screens all day.

My Post-concussion syndrome recovery journey

At the end of December, I got in to see a specialist through some of my connections, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was talking to someone who actually knew something about concussions. He wrote up a ton of blood work requisitions to test different hormones at different times of the month and suggested a list of supplements for me to take. I think I ended up doing over five blood tests.

Within a few weeks, I noticed a definite improvement with the supplements I was taking – 10,000 IU of vitamin D, omega-3 with DHA and EPA, magnesium citrate, iron, probiotics, and turmeric. But I was still having a lot of trouble with memory, concentration, mood, and some visual disturbances.

I hated not being able to play hockey and had huge goals for Obstacle Course Racing in the summer, so I started going back to the gym. Looking back now, I definitely went back to the gym too soon, and too hard, considering a year later I am not allowed to run, but I was still going for runs just a month or two after suffering the concussion.

My blood tests all came back normal, so I was referred to Concussion North (a concussion rehabilitation center in Barrie, Ontario that is now permanently closed) and finally got in to see the specialists there at the beginning of March.

By this time, I had quit my job at the gym and was working solely for myself, building my business, which meant many hours sitting at the computer putting together my website. Huge no-no.

The specialists gave me so many rules about how many minutes a day I could spend watching TV, reading, or using the computer (almost none), and they provided me with vestibular exercises to do at home three times a day. I was also given a list of VERY minimal exercise I was allowed to do (biking only, very low exertion).

As I progressed through the vestibular exercises, I was given additional drills, such as 180 jump turns, 360 jump turns, and burpees. I have yet to be able to do 360 jump turns for a minute without falling over and feeling the need to vomit.

Knowing my upcoming race schedule, the athletic therapist was trying to progress me to more difficult workouts and started allowing me to do push-ups, squats, and planks. It was so slow and boring that I couldn’t find the motivation to do it, especially since it always left me feeling so tired afterward. I needed to sleep all afternoon, and then I wouldn’t get any work done.

Fast-forward to May, and I was still not cleared to run, but my OCR season had started. I still went to the races and walked them while wearing my heart rate monitor to ensure I didn’t exceed my allowed limit. If I did, I had to sit down and take a break until my heart rate returned to the allowed limit.

While I wasn’t getting the same debilitating headaches anymore, I was still extremely tired all the time. I would wake up feeling like I hadn’t slept, even though I slept for eight hours. There were days when my memory and concentration were good, and other days when I was dyslexic when speaking, mixing up words and sentences.

I always loved Jeopardy!, but it became an integral part of my recovery. On bad days, I would notice that I struggled to blurt out answers, even when I knew them. I would be snapping my fingers, saying “ohhh, ohhhh, I know this…” but couldn’t get the words out. Then, on other days, I’d have no problems at all, hammering out answer after answer.

My boyfriend (Colin) could tell as soon as I woke up if it was going to be a good day or a bad day. The first tell was my eyes. If they were glossed over, I typically had a really bad day. When they were clearer, I typically had a good day.

In July, I was finally released from the physiotherapist and was cleared from a vestibular standpoint. The athletic therapist gave me permission to start lightly running again, but I was still not allowed to train full out, as when I reached a certain heart rate, symptoms started to reappear.

I was so excited because I felt like I could get in a month or so of running before the Ultra Beast, and more importantly, actually start training for OCR World Championships in October.

Wouldn’t you know, mid-August (just one month before OCRWC), I had a relapse. While driving through an intersection, someone ran a red light, and I had to slam my brakes to avoid being completely T-boned by him. How he managed to swerve around my car at the speed his pick-up truck was going while towing a trailer is beyond me.

The force of slamming my brakes gave me whiplash, and for the next week, the all too familiar early stages of concussion symptoms all came back. Luckily, they only lasted about two weeks.

The specialists at Concussion North put me back on very restricted exercise (absolutely no running) and I failed my exertion test on the bike. It was recommended that I withdraw from OCRWC.

At the end of September, I went back to the clinic to check on my exertion levels and see if I could take another crack at the test. Before getting started, my resting heart rate was 49, the lowest I had ever seen.

Within a minute or two at very minimal exertion on the stationary bike, my heart rate shot up. The athletic therapist was concerned but had me slow down further to see if my heart rate would change. It kept climbing higher.

Finally, with a panic-stricken face, she asked me to get off the bike, and she jogged out of the room, coming back with the Sports Medicine Doctor and a stethoscope. That’s when things started to get serious.

The Doctor started questioning my family’s heart history and even asked me if anyone had ever died young of heart complications. WHAT?!?

So I was told NO EXERCISE AT ALL until I could see a cardiologist. Tears filled my eyes. I asked about OCRWC and got the obvious answer. (I still did go, by the way, I walked the entire race and spent 8 hours on the course).

I left the clinic, got in my car, and bawled my eyes out. I had never been so scared of my athletic career ending. I didn’t even care about hockey anymore, and I still really don’t. But not being able to run or compete in OCR, or even be active, scared the crap out of me.

My first appointment with the cardiologist was at the beginning of November. I received a 72-hour Holter monitor, and did an ECG and an echocardiogram.

My next appointment to actually speak with the cardiologist is November 30, at which point I will get a little bit more insight into my fate.

Living with post-concussion syndrome

It’s been one year to the day since that hit, and today I still have 24/7 ringing in my ears and often feel pressure in my ears and have to pop them, even if I haven’t changed altitude. I have floaters in my left eye that weren’t present before, but my optometrist says my eyes are still 20/20 and healthy.

I get heart palpitations, and my heart rate does not respond to exertion properly. If I am in a crowded place, I get more anxious. I still sometimes get affected by bright lights and loud noises. A few times a week, I still get dizzy spells. I still have concentration problems, and I often feel very tired and unmotivated.

I have also lost 16 pounds of muscle and a lot of my identity as an athlete.

I am very hopeful there will be an end to all of this, as I have my eyes set on big goals for the 2017 racing season.

What I have learned through all of this is that there are not many doctors out there who actually know about concussions, and even many of the doctors who act as they do still don’t. I’ve been lucky to be connected to the good ones.

I have also found that when I take my supplements and eat a minimally processed diet, my symptoms are not as noticeable, but when I forget to take my supplements (it’s been a few weeks now…) and start letting processed food, and especially sugar, slip into my diet, I have more problems.

Just in the hour and a half it took me to spill these 2,000 words out, my eyes have completely glossed over, my head is pounding and I feel like I am going to throw up…so I will leave you at that.

If you or someone you know has dealt with PCS, please feel free to leave me a comment.