When Manny got home from practice, he went straight to his computer and logged on to the Internet. He typed head injury in the search line. The computer returned a long list of sites to explore. He scanned the titles and found one marked “sports and head trauma.” He clicked on it and was greeted with a prompt to view a short video clip. One tap later, he was watching a recent newscast from a local television channel.
“The sports scene suffered a tragic loss today with the sudden passing of boxer Sam Wheeler,” a somber reporter announced. “Doctors believe his death was caused by a blow to the head.”
The scene switched from the news station studio to a doctor’s office, where a second reporter was conducting an interview with a woman in a white lab coat.
“Doctor,” the concerned reporter said, “we know that boxers receive hits to the head all the time. What made this one so deadly for Wheeler?”
“We believe that Wheeler may have already had a concussion from a knockout punch he’d taken a few weeks ago,” the doctor replied.
“Why would that matter?” the reporter probed.
The doctor laced her fingers together. “Concussions are serious business—much more serious than many people know.” She pulled out a model of a skull and opened it to reveal a plastic brain inside.
“Our brains are protected on the outside by our skulls and cushioned on the inside by spinal fluid. When a person hits something with his or her head or is hit on the head, the brain sloshes from one side of the skull to the other. It gets bruised, and like all bruises, it needs time to heal.”
She sighed deeply. “If Wheeler had a concussion and was hit again—or more than once, as was likely, given his line of work—then any one of those blows could have damaged his brain so severely that it just couldn’t endure any more trauma.”
“But, doctor, what makes you think Sam Wheeler had a concussion in the first place?”
“As I said, he had recently been knocked out during a match. After the bout, he complained of headaches, dizziness, and fatigue,” the doctor said. “These are all classic symptoms of a concussion, although they are not the only ones. Also, it should be noted that while Wheeler was knocked out, you don’t have to lose consciousness to have a concussion.”
“And had Wheeler chosen to seek help?” the reporter asked. “What could the medical profession have done for him?”
“The best cure for a concussion is time. With time, most symptoms usually go away within a few days or a week,” the doctor said. “Until they do, however, anyone who has a concussion is at risk of greater health problems unless they take care of themselves properly.”
Here, she looked straight into the camera. “I can’t stress this enough: If you believe you have a concussion, you must protect yourself from another head injury. If you don’t…”
Her voice trailed off and the scene cut back to the newsroom and a photo of the boxer before he died. Then the video ended.
Manny stared at the screen without really seeing it. His mind was sifting through details of the last two days.
Stu had been so tired yesterday that he’d slept through practice. He’d said he’d had a headache, too. And dizziness—Stu had had that symptom, too.
Then Manny applied a mental brake. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions until I know a little more, he thought. There was still time before dinner, so he returned to the computer’s search engine and typed symptoms of concussion.
Once more, the computer offered a long list of sites. Manny clicked on the first one and scanned the article. The same symptoms the doctor had outlined were there, as were others, such as nausea and blurred vision. Manny recalled how Stu hadn’t been able to juggle and had missed catching his own high throw. He’d left the lunchroom because he was feeling sick to his stomach.
Other words jumped out at him, too. Forgetfulness. Confusion. Anxiety. Irritability. With each new symptom, Manny’s heart sank a little lower because everything he read pointed to one thing: Stu had a concussion.
His heart sank further still when he read about the number of concussions that occurred in youth sports. Football was at the top of the list, with an estimated seventy thousand head injuries reported in one year, but baseball was on there, too. One link even told about an old-time professional player named Ray Chapman who had died after being hit by a pitch. His death had eventually led to the introduction of the batting helmet, but those helmets were no guarantee that players would be safe.
Manny logged off soon after reading the article about Chapman. He drummed his fingers on his desk, thinking about what he’d learned.
He didn’t want to ignore his findings. But he didn’t want to break the promise he’d made to Stu to keep his mouth shut about the hit on the head. And what if he did tell, only to find out he was wrong and Stu was fine? Mrs. Fletcher would ground him, and Stu would never forgive him for making him miss the championship game!
But what if Stu wasn’t fine, and then got hit in the head again in the game tomorrow? Manny shuddered.
Manny thought about his problem all through supper. It scratched at his brain while he was doing his homework, too. In bed that night, he tossed and turned, wondering what he should do.
The solution came to him at last. According to the information he’d gleaned from the Web sites, the symptoms of a concussion went away over time, sometimes in as little as a few days.
Maybe, Manny thought, Stu’s symptoms will be gone by tomorrow. I’ll just have to keep a close eye on him and see. Until I know for sure, I won’t say a word.
That settled, Manny finally fell asleep.