Player welfare the priority after concussion
By Matthew Richardson
The Age
August 14, 2005
The first thing I could remember after colliding with Carlton's Brad Fisher in the match against the Blues a couple of weeks ago was lying in the Richmond rooms close to quarter-time.
One minute I was trying to intercept a Lance Whitnall kick, the next, club doctor Greg Hickey was asking me questions and providing a few answers of his own about what had just happened. The club chaplain, Paul Cameron, was there too — thankfully just for support, not to administer the last rites.
It's a bizarre feeling when you come to after being concussed on a football field — something I'd never experienced in 22 years of playing the game. Initially you become agitated, even a bit angry, because you don't really know what's going on: how it happened, where you are, and what you've just been doing.
The first thing that came to mind was that this must be a shocking hangover and that I must have just woken up after a big night out. The doc quickly assured me that wasn't the case, and pointed to my footy gear, explaining it was the middle of a match. "Yeah, that's right, night game," I said. Wrong again, Sunday afternoon.
That's how confused a footballer can be when he gets knocked out and suffers a bad concussion.
Take the example of former teammate Duncan Kellaway, who was KO'd a few seasons ago, and after being treated in the rooms, was brought back out to the interchange bench. He was sitting next to former Richmond physio Paul Coburn, and was continually asking him what had happened and what was wrong.
After answering quite a few times, Coby was starting to get a bit jack of it, so he wrote on a piece of paper: "Duncan, you've been concussed playing a game of football, and you're a little confused." After that, every time Duncan got the urge to ask the question yet again, he'd look down at the piece of paper, read it, start nodding and get a little look of satisfaction on his face, even if it only lasted a few minutes until he'd go through it all again.
In cases like this, the chances are that a player is not going to come back on to the field that day. As for the following weekend, that will depend on the club's medical team assessing his condition as the week wears on.
A lot of people assume that if you've been concussed, you'll automatically miss the following weekend's match. Some in the media even get indignant about concussed footballers playing six or seven days later. In fact, nearly everybody I spoke to in the days after the Carlton match assumed I was in for a spell when they asked how I was travelling ahead of the Fremantle game.
To be honest, that's how it was shaping early in the week. The evening after the Carlton match involved going straight home and getting into bed for a good 12 hours sleep. On Monday morning, there was a chat with the doctor down at the club to assess where I was at. I knew things were still a fraction hazy, because I'd had a minor bingle in the car on the way to training. Reversing out of the driveway at home I managed to clip a car coming down the street. I sort of knew that the cars were going to collide, but just didn't react quickly enough. Wish I had, though — the other car was a seven-series BMW.
That gives you an indication of how sluggish a person can be for a few days after getting concussed. All you want to do is sleep, you feel lethargic and you can't really concentrate on doing anything. At a team meeting on the Monday, coach Terry Wallace asked a question, and the guys got a good chuckle out of the fact that apparently I put my hand up and offered some completely irrelevant answer.
But AFL football clubs have a system in place where they can test how a player has recovered after being concussed. It involves about 20 minutes sitting in front of a computer reacting to sequences, memory tests and reaction times. It gets boring pretty quickly, but that's a test in itself to make sure you keep concentrating.
All players will have done this test in the pre-season — which provides a standard against which later results can be compared — and after a concussion you need to score fairly close to that standard to prove you have your wits about you. I struggled on Monday and had only improved slightly by Wednesday, even though by then I was feeling pretty much 100 per cent.
Just to be certain, though, the club organised a CAT scan on Wednesday afternoon to see whether everything was all clear before the team flew to Perth on Thursday. Despite the smart alec comments, the scan did find a brain, and also revealed that everything was fine.
Next followed another crack at the computer test on the Friday morning in Perth, and it suggested everything was absolutely spot on. It's worth noting that I felt fully fit on the Saturday night against the Dockers, and completed the match without any problems. Actually, probably better than normal because in effect I'd had the previous weekend off.
The point that needs to be made is that each concussion case is assessed extremely closely by the club, but each scenario needs to be treated on an individual basis. Some players might be fine to return to the field in the same match, others might be right the following weekend. Then there will be some serious cases, such as Chris Hyde's fractured skull earlier in the season, where the club will tell the player that it is not just about him getting a medical clearance, the footballer needs to feel in his own mind that he is right to resume playing.
One thing is certain — no doctor would take any sort of risk with these sorts of injuries. That's the way it must be, and it's very reassuring to know that the player's welfare absolutely comes first.
http://www.realfooty.theage.com.au/realfooty/articles/2005/08/13/1123353542240.html
