Curveballs of Life: 13 Concussions

Another day, another concussion. It’s hard to believe this is my 13th. 

At this point, I’ve become accustomed to the wide-eyed reactions when they hear this is my 13th concussion. Or the attempts of humor but yet serious remarks of, “You need a helmet” or the other classic, “You need to live in a bubble.” 

I know they are trying to make light of the very serious scenario, or maybe they just don’t know what to say…but nevertheless, it’s the 13th go around of hearing the same remarks, so it’s gotten old, fast.

To be honest, at this point, I don’t know what is helpful. Some people have asked, “what can I do to support you?”, and I don’t have an answer.

When I was playing basketball, there was a clear decision that I could no longer play basketball competitively anymore. Now that I am wayyyyyyy past my basketball career, there’s not a specific sign of what I can do to stop.

Stop walking my dogs?

Stop bending down?

Stop going out with friends?

Stop driving in my car?

There’s not a practical, one-will-fix-the-problem, solution. 

So what now?

The thoughts of my future and what that will look like worry me. In a world where concussions are increasingly recognized as serious injuries, I am aware of the severity of the potential long-term consequences. I know the statistics: brain damage can lead to early-onset dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. And because of that, I recognize how precious life is.

At the same time, I refuse to let fear dictate my life. As if I am taking the placebo effect pill of early on-set dementia or Alzheimer’s, projecting that this is my forecasted future. I refuse. I want to intentionally live life…just in case it in fact is. 

I want to go on a dog walk with my wife, and enjoy it. 

I want to feel like I can move without worrying about what will hit me suddenly in the head.

I want to feel like I have a chance in this world to do everything my mind dreams of.


Concussions are dark. They are lonely. They are misunderstood. They are unknowing. It’s like a piece of your brain being damaged every single hit you get. With no option of rewinding. No chance of reversing the diagnosis. Concussions are an injury that no one else notices, but you. 

But I know I am not the only one that life throws curveballs at. No matter if you are getting a concussion from the curveball or not, life-altering experiences bring on a sense of uncertainty, confusion, or pain. Life can be dark, lonely, and filled with uncertainties for everybody. 

When life doesn’t always give you the one solution to the program answer, let’s go into these curveballs with this perspective…

This life-altering experience is not a characteristic of WHO YOU ARE. They are only a temporary setback, not a permanent identity trait of yours. A circumstance doesn’t have to become the content of who you are. It’s only the context. The context is ever-changing, but never limiting. It’s evolving. 

It’s like the opportunities of planting a hydrangea. You can plant it in a big pot on your back porch, or you can plant it in the ground in full sun. Where you plant it will never change the content of the plant, but the context of where you plant it will.

Which tells me whatever context you choose the plant the hydrangea, there’s an opportunity for new blooms. 

This life-altering curveball doesn’t have to become the content of who you are. It doesn’t have to limit you from the opportunities for growth. Just like I don’t have to wear a helmet around my head, “Be careful, I have 13 concussions. Stay away from me.” 

Things that I am telling myself right now to remind me of this truth:

  • The lack of memory I experience at times doesn’t have to dictate how powerful my brain is or represent my intelligence.

  • It doesn’t dictate or limit the value, impact, and growth I can create with my brain. It only exemplifies it with care and intentionality. 

Life doesn’t have to become life-altering curveballs. You have the power to choose the context. 


On the flip side of that, I am focusing on the things that truly make my life bloom. Things like:

  • Slow and easy mornings

  • Cuddling with my wife and fur babies

  • Being in the presence of my family and friends (very quiet)

  • Chai teas

  • Reading a good book (even if it’s for a shorter duration of time)


I hope this 13th concussion reflection encourages you to think about how you are intentionally living your life – to remind you to romanticize your life, do things that make you happy instead of focusing on all the things that could easily limit you.


Because you are not your thoughts, and you are not your circumstances. You are a fully alive human that can feel a wide range of emotions. From sadness to joy, disappointment to excitement. 


In all those emotions, it’s the ability to feel. And my goodness, what a beautiful way of life it is to feel the essence of life around you to the fullest. 

I hope more than anything, you feel the power your mind has. In focusing on the blooms around you instead of the things that could easily hold you back. I hope you believe in the power of what your brain can do for this world.

And know, as I am reminding you of that truth, I am inhaling it right back in for myself. 13 concussions and all.

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