Concussion crisis
Through her camera lens, sports photographer Kaz Turcotte watched her son Eric dump the puck at centre ice to set up a line change, turn to his left and cut towards the bench.
At the same moment, her husband Perry, an assistant coach with the North Vancouver Minor Hockey Bantam rep team, was looking down at the bench readying a new unit of players to jump over the boards.
The next frames still haunt her.
In the blink of an eye, Eric, a 150-pound right winger, is blindsided by a vicious bodycheck thrown by an enforcer from the opposing team and sent head-first onto the ice.
“The next thing you see is him on his back and not moving,” recalls Kaz. “It wasn’t that long when I check the actual time frame on my pictures, but it felt like 10 minutes.”
Next, coaches flew off the North Van bench and huddled around a visibly incapacitated Eric — in a familiar cringe-worthy scene that is every parent’s worst nightmare.He remembers looking up at the ceiling of the rink and thinking that he was at the swimming pool.
Eric, 14, was eventually assisted to his feet and led towards the bench by coaches and teammates.
Sitting in an unfamiliar dressing room in Richmond, Eric described his symptoms to the nurse: an ‘N’ shaped pain radiating from the top to the bottom of his skull.
“I couldn’t lift my head,” he says.
Kaz wrapped him in a blanket and supported his neck for the 45-minute drive to Lions Gate Hospital where an ER doctor diagnosed Eric with a sprained neck and a mild concussion. That was a Wednesday evening. The debilitating concussion symptoms didn’t hit Eric until the following Sunday. He says he lost the ability to form mental images — even the simplest objects. And then there was the mounting pressure on the back on his head.
“I felt like I was growing horns,” says Eric, offering a half smile.
Figuring it was time for a second opinion, the Turcottes took Eric to a sports medicine doctor for a concussion assessment. There were still unanswered questions after that appointment that left the family scouring the Internet for clues as to why their son wasn’t getting better.
It had been nearly three weeks since that life-changing hit, and Eric still hadn’t returned to his Grade 9 classes at Balmoral junior secondary.
His worsening condition — persistent nausea, thunderous headaches and over-sleeping — became unbearable one day in late November.
This time the family decided to take Eric to BC Children’s Hospital.
“The doctor at Children’s treated me like I was an overanxious mother,” says Kaz.
Eric immediately laughs.
“Yes, that was funny.”
The Turcottes were simply told that Eric will have up days and down days on his road to concussion recovery, and this happened to be a bad day.
“The doctors kept telling us they don’t really know a lot about concussions,” says Perry. “That’s the frightening part.”
North Vancouver neurosurgeon Dr. Brian Hunt has long been considered a contrarian on the subject of concussions. Until recently, he’s had a hard time convincing coaches, lawyers, judges and even fellow neurologists of the seriousness of these “mild, traumatic brain injuries.”
He cites the high-profile case of Sidney Crosby — the young NHL player was sidelined twice in recent months with back-to-back concussions — as the instigator for the shift in attitude about head injuries.
“Because all these athletes are getting into trouble, now everyone is starting to listen,” says Hunt, who gave The Outlook a PowerPoint presentation on concussions — the same talk he’s been peddling to coaches and parents of young athletes for years.
“But I’m not against contact sports. I’m saying let’s recognize concussions when they occur.”
So what exactly is a concussion?
It’s a brain injury caused by a direct or indirect hit to the head or body — for example, a bodycheck into the boards in hockey. Upon impact, the brain vigorously shifts or shakes and is knocked against the skull’s bony surface.
The grey area lies in the fact that concussions are difficult to diagnose; CT and MRI scans don’t pick them up, says Hunt. “It’s at a microscopic level.”
The effects of concussions are cumulative. There is a standardized cognitive and physical test called the SCAT 2 that doctors use to evaluate concussed athletes, however, Hunt has found some athletes will sometimes underreport symptoms to get back in the game.
“If you are not recovered you are six times more likely to suffer another concussion,” he explains. “Crosby didn’t recover from that first concussion.”
A neurosurgeon since 1973, Hunt has also experienced pressure from coaches and parents grasping for an “all-clear” for their football, soccer or hockey star to return to their team.
“I’m not a hockey expert,” he says. “I just see the players that are permanently hurt. And there have been tears in my office when I tell them their [sports] career is over.”
Concussion recovery is a game of patience. Until there are no more symptoms, which can range from dizziness to amnesia to depression, everyday activities are restricted.
For the first month after his concussion, Eric had to lay low: no physical exertion, school, reading, TV or computer.
“I basically sat in the dark for a month,” he says.
Making paper airplanes was how he kept himself occupied. Kaz would find them all over the house — in planters, behind chairs.
“I felt like I was eight years old,” he says.
The presidents of the North and West Vancouver Minor Hockey Associations are confident that bodychecking will be removed from recreational hockey by the end of this season.
On January 22, representatives from member organizations of the Pacific Coast Amateur Hockey Association — the governing body for minor hockey in the Lower Mainland — will be voting on that proposal.
Hockey Canada is already making sweeping changes to the contact side of the sport. A zero tolerance ban on head contact in minor league hockey was also introduced this season.
“That’s the way it’s going to go,” said Leanne Taylor-Ring, president of the North Vancouver Minor Hockey Association, on the plan to remove body checking from recreational hockey. “We need to start thinking of the safety of our children.”
Tim Murphy, president of West Vancouver Minor Hockey Association, said the board’s consensus view is supportive of non-hitting for recreational levels of minor hockey.
“It takes the intimidation factor out of the game at the recreational level and hopefully keeps players in the game longer who would otherwise drop out,” he added.
In the event the PCAHA membership votes to continue with bodychecking in recreational hockey, another proposal would be to remove it from the Peewee (11 and 12 year olds) house league level where it’s currently introduced.
Last October a PCAHA committee explored the issue of bodychecking in minor hockey. In its report, which has been circulated to the PCAHA’s member associations, is an eye-opening study on concussions in Peewee hockey.
A study by The Journal of the American Medical Association conducted in the 2007-2008 season followed 74 Peewee teams in Alberta where body checking is allowed and 76 teams in Quebec where bodychecking is not permitted.
In Alberta, the hockey players recorded 241 injuries, which included 71 concussions; Quebec players suffered 91 injuries, 23 of which were diagnosed as concussions.
The study doesn’t surprise West Vancouver hockey dad Ron Dempsey.
“I’ve heard of coaches telling players the only way to get to the next level is to be aggressive,” he says.
His son Nolan is nine years old right now and plays rep hockey at the Atom level. Pretty soon Ron and his wife will sit down and decide if they want their son engaged in hockey that includes bodychecking.
His concerns are part of a contentious debate brewing in the minor hockey community: should bodychecking be removed from Peewee rep hockey? That’s another proposal that will be voted on by the PCAHA by season’s end.
“There is a real divide on the bodychecking issue,” says Murphy. “Some [WVMHA] members believe it’s an integral part of the fabric of the game, critical for skill development.”
Some dissenters of the proposal believe that eliminating body checking at the Peewee rep level sets players up for a disadvantage down the line in their hockey career. Murphy agrees.
“It’s going to be a polarizing issue,” he says. “There is no right or wrong answer — there are equal and passionate advocates on both sides of this issue, but at the end of the day — a decision has to be made.”
Eric is on the slow road to recovery.
He is currently only able to attend school for half of the day. Perry has contacted Hockey Canada and asked that they help cover the cost of private tutoring.
Sitting in a coffee shop in Central Lonsdale on a dreary Sunday afternoon with his parents and 13-year-old sister, Eric appears withdrawn at times.
It’s been a dramatic change for a family that is used to being at the rink six days a week. When asked if he still supports his team from the stands, Eric breaks down.
“I’d rather want to play,” says Eric, who is sporting a windbreaker with his team’s logo.
Dad gets choked up too.
“He worked really hard at hockey,” says Perry. “He shocked people at the rep tryouts.”
Eric is hoping to get back on the ice in the spring for five-on-five hockey with no bodychecking.
He has a message for other hockey players struggling with concussion recovery.
“Be honest about your symptoms — and never give up,” he says.
reporter@northshoreoutlook.com