How To Not Life

Clumsy Me: Concussion

Sophomore year of college what a time. I'm starting to get into the thick of engineering, and one of the classes I had to take was differential calculus. Differential calculus is one of the last classes of math you must take as an engineer and basically combines a lot of what you have previously learned and throw them into a melting pot of math. In summary, it's complicated. One of the many interesting things about Georgia Tech is that there's a section of campus with a bunch of historic buildings that they decided to keep and refurbish as classrooms. So, you can imagine stepping into these ancient rooms with the beautiful wood detailing, huge ornate doors, the chalkboards the teacher has to write complex equations on, and the lack of AC. Yeah, it's a great time.

Anyway, my differential calculus class was in one such of these rooms, and the entrance has these huge thick wooden doors (these will be important later on). I had a Korean class right before, so I would always get there right when class started. Now let's place ourselves on a beautiful fall day. It's a Thursday and happens to be the day of my first differential calculus test. I was beyond stressed, let me tell you. I was anxious all day and didn't know how it would go. Surprisingly my Korean class got out early so I could get to my differential calculus building before the earlier section got out.

I basically just waited outside the room, studying and trying to calm my nerves. The class before me soon ended, and everyone left, so I got up and walk towards the door. I remember stopping to take a deep breath and prepare myself to meet my doom... I mean enter my room. Then suddenly, the door in front of me burst open and struck me right on the head. I remember rocking back on my heels as a guy came running out.

After the initial hit, I remember being dazed and confused, and my eyes couldn't focus. I tried to shake it off, but that just made me dizzy. I stumbled to my seat and sat down, but I couldn't focus. My vision was going in and out, and I could feel the world moving. At this point, I knew something was wrong. I was pretty sure I had a concussion. I then began to stress even more about taking the test when I was clearly not in the best shape to do so. I should have gotten up, told the professor, and gone to the doctor. However, I had a test the following week in another class, and I didn't want to make up this one. Therefore, I kept quiet and took the test. As my teacher handed out the test, I could barely focus on my desk, and I felt incredibly nauseous. I also couldn't read the writing on the board.

However, as soon as she handed me the test, something snapped in me. I had the utmost focus, and math just made sense. I quickly started the test, answered every question, and went back to check my answers. When I finished, I looked up to check the time and realized only 30 minutes had passed. I was shocked. I did so much in that short amount of time. I then got up to turn my test into the professor who thought I had a question. I then informed her I finished and was turning it in. She was shocked but accepted it. I then had a fear that maybe the reason I finished so fast was because it was just gibberish, and there was no coherent math on my test paper, but it was too late. The test was already in her hands. My teacher wished me a good weekend and asked if I had any plans. I then informed her I was going straight to the doctor as I believed I had a concussion.

She then asked me if I was ok and if I wanted her to grade the test or just have me retake it when I was feeling better. I then told her to grade it as I was curious about how bad it was. She agreed. I then left and began walking to the school's medical center. My friend then called me asking her if I wanted her at Sweet Hut and do homework. I then thought this was an excellent idea and forgot about the doctor. I proceeded to walk two miles to the bakery. We then stayed there till 10 pm working and then we walked the three miles back to our apartment. I then promptly went to sleep.

On Friday, I woke up feeling horrible but decided I still needed to go to my research lab and classes. After class, I had my parents pick me up and take me home. I thought I might just get over the concussion, but it steadily worsened. My parents then took me to the hospital. The ER doctor listened to my story and proclaimed I did not have a concussion or any issues and sent me back home. I rested the weekend and then went back to school on Monday. I went to my first class, but I felt horrible. Midway through, I rushed out and ran to the bathroom, where I proceeded to puke my guts out. Sadly, I was wearing cloth shoes at the time and had to throw them away.

I then walked to my school's medical center (in socks, might I add), where I was diagnosed with a level 4 concussion and was put on bed rest for a week with no screen time. Let me tell you, that was so boring. So so boring. All my teachers were notified of my concussion and the severity of it, so I could be excused from school work.

I then got an email from my differential calculus teacher, who wished me a speedy recovery and informed me that I got a 100 on the test that I took concussed.

I soon healed and was fine, and on my 2nd differential test, I got an 80 something, which shows I knew math better when I was concussed than I did in my normal state of existence. 

So the moral of the story is to take math tests concussed (that's a joke please don't get concussed its not fun).