|CONCUSSIONS AND CURLING|
|Tuesday, 31 July 2012 11:23|
With the fall from her horse at the Olympics and the resulting concussion that ensued to the Canadian rider, concussions are in the news again.
Curling concussions are not new either.
In May of 2003 I was playing in a May end of the year bonspiel with an eager mixture of adult and junior curlers on my team. After I threw my 2 lead rocks (perfect result I might add) I awaited our second' s first rock. Once his stone left his hand the third and I bore down to get the draw shot buried behind my guards.
I don't know if it ever got there.
You can blame the 2003 Nokia Brier in Halifax. Because I was playing in the Brier spectator spiel I needed to buy a pair of curling pants to replace the pair I forgot to bring. I used them just that once - unhemmed - and stored them in a suitcase. Well I resurrected said pair of unhemmed pants and pressed them into service for this May spiel.
I forgot they were unhemmed.
Back to sheet 1 and sweeping. As we swept the rock the unhemmed pants migrated (faster than Mexicans fleeing the border guards on the Rio Grande) under my feet.
My feet went out from under me. SPLAT!!!!
The next thing I knew I was dazed, sitting in a chair in the lounge facing the ice. As I sat there I wondered why I was in a curling club and who were those people playing. Some caring guys came off the ice to ask me how I was. I didn't realize they were my teammates.
Soon 2 paramedics arrived. They asked a number of questions one of them being if I knew where I was. Proudly i said "The Richmond Curling Club." The only reason my cognative being knew this was because of the big sign that read WELCOME TO THE RICHMOND CURLING CLUB.
My head was examined. The two medicos indicated that they found a big gash on the crown on my head. Mmmmm that would explain the red blood on the ice which I had thought was maybe an errant ice paint job by a befuddled ice maker. I certainly was befuddled.
Then came the question I got asked numerous times by paremedics, nurses, doctors...maybe even a pollster phoning me at home asking if I wouldn'd mind taking part in a survey.
"Do you know what month it is?" "Do you know what month it is?" "Do you know what month it is?"
Sadly I didn't know it was May. Or any month for that matter.
The paramedics said that we were going to the hospital.
The ride was pleasant enough. Since they didn't use the siren I figured the celestial hosts weren't going to be seeing me any time soon. Then the question got asked numerous times during the ride to emergency. "Do you know what month it is?" I was frustrated as hell. How can the correct answer not be known by yours truly.
As we approached the hospital the paramedics indicated that because SARS was an issue a man in a white smock and a mask would ask me a number of questions. Shit i am thinking, I hope he doesn't ask me what month it is.
The ambulance stopped. They pulled me and the gurney out of the ambulance and away we wheeled to meet the man in the mask.
The paramedics stopped at the door. Sure enough there stood the white garbded figure holding a clip board. Sweat began pouring from my pores, my stomach tightened, my loins girded (before that day my loins have never girded). Please don't ask me what month this is I prayed.
"Hello sir. I am going to ask you a few questions." said the masked man.
I turned to my side to look at the man. My head rested on my right elbow. "Have you ever been to China?" he asked.
"China?" I said. "China?. Look I don't even know what fucking month it is."
The paramedics are still laughing.