In October 2018 I was walking down the stairs in my home and I slipped and landed on the back of my head on the edge of a stair tread. I was wearing socks and my stairs were wooden with no carpet or grip tape. My feet flew forward and there was just nowhere to put them down to stop my fall. I grabbed for the bannister and jammed my right pinky into the bannister and tore my shoulder, while I still didn’t manage to catch myself. Every mark on my body from that injury—another stair tread at the top of my back, purple elbows—was above my waist. As I was falling, I thought to myself, “I hope I survive this.” The sound of my head hitting the stair tread made me think of an abatoir—a life-ending kind of crack.
Mercifully, I am ok. I was unable to return to work for almost thirteen months, but I have been able to find my way back. It has been a very long, very swimmy recovery and I am only recently coming close to feeling fully recovered nearly eighteen months later. I didn’t think to include information about concussion on a website about viola, but my husband suggested including it because I learned a lot about myself and brains and also the viola during my recovery (I created this website when I was unable to perform but had regained some stamina during my time away from work). Many people have approached me to ask about concussion when someone they love has had the misfortune to suffer one. I’m not a doctor or a physical therapist or occupational therapist, but I have spent a lot of time with many of those professionals, and part of what I feel might be valuable to people here is answers. Precisely because I am not a medical professional I can offer something concrete without offering a guarantee. If you have suffered a concussion, please follow the recommendations of medical providers. If have moral proximity to someone who has suffered a concussion, I hope you can be extremely patient and supportive during a very confusing recovery, and find information here that will allow you to be usefully supportive.