I teach our advanced class at the pole fitness studio I work at. Now, when you get to the advanced stuff it is quite scary sometimes. Hanging from one foot with your arm twisted weird behind your back, while you have to arch your back and try to split at the same time (while trying not to pull a fucked up face due to all the pain) can be intimidating at some times.
So we spot one another when we do new moves at the studio. Spotting means that you literally stand underneath your buddy doing the move, ready to catch them when they plummet to the ground. And trust me, it's needed. Countless broken bones and torn muscles have been prevented at our studio due to our spotting policy.
Our advanced class is not very big, so when I teach a new move I can spot everyone for their first try, and then let them spot each other, because I know they can catch one another in the rare case that they do fall. One of the girls really had a difficult time getting this move, especially getting her leg hooked right. So while I was spotting her I tried to help her get her leg into position and to let go with her hands. The next moment she just let go of the pole, with everything, hands, feet and knees. It went something like this:
So I tried to save her from her fall but in the process her leg that was hooked came flying down and collided with my head. I just remember falling to the floor (she also fell but luckily for her I broke her fall because she fell right on top of me). I didn't see stars - I saw black dots and felt very very weird. I got up, feeling very unstable. You can't show your students that you got hurt or reveal to them the true dangers of pole fitness. They must think you are unbreakable, they must look up at you and think that you are awesome, and they must wish that they can do what you can do and be as awesome as you are. You must inspire them. So I kept this show on the road and completed this class, even though I could barely stand on my own feet.
Now, to make things more interesting I had to give ANOTHER class after the advanced class. At my studio you get paid per class you give. And I love money. I am a honours psychology student, and I want money to buy hot ass clothes and to party. So I decided I am going to give that second class because I am greedy for money, even though I was feeling a little weird. Also, I am a driven person, so there is no way that I am going to take off from my work as an instructor just because I got hit on the head with a foot. No, I am unbreakable and nothing can bring me down.
So I gave the class - and by the way, that was the longest damn class I ever had to give (in retrospect). Now after class I had to drive 25km to get back home and it was 21:30. So I started driving. But I soon realized that things are not going well. This driving thing is not working out. So I strategized.
First step of action: phone mother and tell her that I am driving home and that I had a hard bash to the head. And I am feeling weird.
Step two: Start driving with one eye closed because I can't see straight with both eyes open.
Step three: Put head on steering wheel in order to see the road better and to have more control over my driving ability. Not a pretty picture.
So I finally got home at around 10pm, I walked/ slided against the wall into the house to find my concerned mother waiting up for me.
So I went to sleep. There is NO WAY I can have a concussion now. I have a VERY important practical examination coming up along with a string of serious bad ass assignments that I need to do well in. I also didn't want to take of from work (I had 2 jobs at that time while studying fulltime - told you I am greedy and love money) because that would mean my spending money would be less, and that is always a disaster especially when it comes to me buying clothes, shoes or chocolates to make me feel human again between all of the studying.
Everything felt weird and I was having weird hallucination type things while sleeping/trying to sleep, but I was so tired I couldn't get up, or even reach my phone to call my mom (who is in the same house). At around 4am I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. I got up, walked to the bathroom and everything was fine. I was surprised and impressed with myself, I am unbreakable!
Buuuuuut, when I opened the door of that bathroom the whole world started to blur and swirl around me. I crawled/slided towards my parent's room.
My mom popped out immediately, as if she was laying there all night waiting for me to realise I need to go to the hospital. My mom was a nurse when she was about my age, so she knows a thing or two when it comes to injuries and being sick. So she probably just waited it out thinking, "she will come around and then I will drive her to the hospital."
I can't even remember if she helped me put on other clothes or if I just went to the emergency room in my pajamas. All I remember is that I looked like crap. The drive to the hospital was dreadful. My mom gave me a bucket because I felt carsick, and I felt like a vampire who was being exposed to light every time we approached a traffic light. It was so bright it hurt my eyes. Furthermore, you NEVER realise how many little bumps and dips there are in a road until you have to drive on it in my condition. Obviously my mom was trying to get me to the hospital as fast as she could, but I kept telling her to slow down because every speed bump, every crack in the road made it feel like my brain is bumping against my scull.
When we got to the hospital my mother was like: "Wheelchair! You need a wheelchair! Stay in the car and I will go get you one". I convinced her that it is only like 20m to the entrance, with her support I can walk there (with my bucket in hand, cause I still felt like I was going to puke at any second).
Somehow I ended up in the emergency room ( it is round about here that things started to get confusing and fuzzy). I just remember that everything was so white and damn bright I wanted to die. And on top of that they looked into my eyes with those little flashlight things. It felt like I could only see one colour - bright painful white.
I was lying on the bed with my eyes closed and hands over my eyes to block out the white rays of torture. So I just heard parts of my mother's conversation with the doctor. Now you have to understand that here in South Africa we are still a bit conservative, and pole dancing as a sport is something very few people have ever heard of. It is not a common thing in my country. In my country pole dancing is still associated to the stigma of strip clubs.
My mother was really trying hard to explain to the doctor that I am a pole dancer, but the acrobatic type, that I do it for fitness. So she was telling him about competitions, and what a great form of exercise it is and that it is being considered as an Olympic sport, all of that. Now that I think of it, my mother probably never looked at her blond little 6 year old girl and thought that she would ever have to explain such a situation to a doctor.
In any way, I ended up in a wheelchair. Once again, it felt like they had put me in a race car. I kept telling the nurse to slow down, because I couldn't handle the "speed" she was pushing me at. I went for X-rays, can't remember that. This is what I have been told. I don't even remember how I got back to the car or into the house. All I remember was that the sun was coming up as we were leaving the hospital with a sick note stating that I have a concussion and that I am booked of for 5 working days, but that I must rest the weekend as well. Furthermore the doctor gave my mother instructions which she kept on repeating to me:
You should lie down as much as possible, you shouldn't really walk, you can't watch TV blah blah. So 'we' meaning my mother decided the TV room couch would be perfect for me. I could lie there day and night and the guest bathroom was just a couple of steps away.
So my journey started. First of all the doctor prescribed me pain pills, but I HATE swollowing pills, and to me swallowing those pills he prescribed was the equivalent of swallowing a chicken egg whole or something. Not going to happen. So I phoned my boyfriend and he brought me some pain syrup, which I drank out of the bottle because I had the worst headache in the world.
Before he arrived my mother left for work, leaving me home alone with my younger sister who is also studying, so she is at home when she doesn't have class. I thought, whatever, I can walk, I can watch TV. Or not. I thought I might watch a movie or something, but my eyes just couldn't focus on the TV! I saw blurred and double images, and it made me feel nauseous so I just turned it off. Then I tried walking, my sister (as instructed by my mother) tried to stop me but I was like whatever, I can walk, I can lean against the wall. Two minutes later: sister helping me to the couch because I can't walk or stand up straight.
So I slept, but my dreams were so real, and reality was so foggy. I couldn't distinguish between the two for at least 2 days. My boyfriend will come and visit, and I would talk about how nice it was of him to visit me twice in one day, and then he was like, no, this is the first time. Then I am just all confused again. Big blur of confusion.
The department I was studying at was ruthless. Which is ironic because the lecturers were all so kind, but sometimes I wondered whether there is actually something going on in their heads. Because they will forget tests and so on. I will have pulled an all-nighter, and taken off from work so that I can pitch up for the test at 6pm on a Friday and then?! The lecturer would be like 'are we writing today? Oh well, I forgot, we will write next week, so lets go on with class'. Now it did not take me long to realise that I wasn't their favourite student in the class. I got the time off due to my concussion, but I had big assignments and tests AND presentations due right after my 'sick leave' which they all decided I must do.
So on day 6 and 7 when I was supposed to rest, I was doing two assignments at once, day 8 I did a group presentation in front of the whole class (standing the whole 20 min, even though it felt like I wanted to pass out) and handed in all my assignments. It took me moths to recover from that week.
And so it was, by the end of the year I couldn't give a damn about my studies anymore, I was so drained and behind on everything (due to one week I took off) I didn't even study for 3/4 of my exams. Really, I went in there without opening a book and I passed every single subject. CHA!
But now I have a minor fear of poles, even though I did not get my concussion from falling from the pole, I am still scared that I would hit my head again and then have to go through that ordeal once again. So in most of my classes I have someone spotting me now. Just for in case.
I never thought a concussion could be so debilitating. But it was.
Now we are really doing the spotting thing in our studio. The other night a student that I spotted felt like she was going to fall, and she grabbed on to the first thing she got hold of, which was incidentally my boob. But it is ok. In the world of pole fitness you would rather grab a boob, or let someone grab your boob than get a concussion.
End of story.
So we spot one another when we do new moves at the studio. Spotting means that you literally stand underneath your buddy doing the move, ready to catch them when they plummet to the ground. And trust me, it's needed. Countless broken bones and torn muscles have been prevented at our studio due to our spotting policy.
Our advanced class is not very big, so when I teach a new move I can spot everyone for their first try, and then let them spot each other, because I know they can catch one another in the rare case that they do fall. One of the girls really had a difficult time getting this move, especially getting her leg hooked right. So while I was spotting her I tried to help her get her leg into position and to let go with her hands. The next moment she just let go of the pole, with everything, hands, feet and knees. It went something like this:
So I tried to save her from her fall but in the process her leg that was hooked came flying down and collided with my head. I just remember falling to the floor (she also fell but luckily for her I broke her fall because she fell right on top of me). I didn't see stars - I saw black dots and felt very very weird. I got up, feeling very unstable. You can't show your students that you got hurt or reveal to them the true dangers of pole fitness. They must think you are unbreakable, they must look up at you and think that you are awesome, and they must wish that they can do what you can do and be as awesome as you are. You must inspire them. So I kept this show on the road and completed this class, even though I could barely stand on my own feet.
Now, to make things more interesting I had to give ANOTHER class after the advanced class. At my studio you get paid per class you give. And I love money. I am a honours psychology student, and I want money to buy hot ass clothes and to party. So I decided I am going to give that second class because I am greedy for money, even though I was feeling a little weird. Also, I am a driven person, so there is no way that I am going to take off from my work as an instructor just because I got hit on the head with a foot. No, I am unbreakable and nothing can bring me down.
So I gave the class - and by the way, that was the longest damn class I ever had to give (in retrospect). Now after class I had to drive 25km to get back home and it was 21:30. So I started driving. But I soon realized that things are not going well. This driving thing is not working out. So I strategized.
First step of action: phone mother and tell her that I am driving home and that I had a hard bash to the head. And I am feeling weird.
Step two: Start driving with one eye closed because I can't see straight with both eyes open.
Step three: Put head on steering wheel in order to see the road better and to have more control over my driving ability. Not a pretty picture.
So I finally got home at around 10pm, I walked/ slided against the wall into the house to find my concerned mother waiting up for me.
So I went to sleep. There is NO WAY I can have a concussion now. I have a VERY important practical examination coming up along with a string of serious bad ass assignments that I need to do well in. I also didn't want to take of from work (I had 2 jobs at that time while studying fulltime - told you I am greedy and love money) because that would mean my spending money would be less, and that is always a disaster especially when it comes to me buying clothes, shoes or chocolates to make me feel human again between all of the studying.
Everything felt weird and I was having weird hallucination type things while sleeping/trying to sleep, but I was so tired I couldn't get up, or even reach my phone to call my mom (who is in the same house). At around 4am I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. I got up, walked to the bathroom and everything was fine. I was surprised and impressed with myself, I am unbreakable!
Buuuuuut, when I opened the door of that bathroom the whole world started to blur and swirl around me. I crawled/slided towards my parent's room.
My mom popped out immediately, as if she was laying there all night waiting for me to realise I need to go to the hospital. My mom was a nurse when she was about my age, so she knows a thing or two when it comes to injuries and being sick. So she probably just waited it out thinking, "she will come around and then I will drive her to the hospital."
I can't even remember if she helped me put on other clothes or if I just went to the emergency room in my pajamas. All I remember is that I looked like crap. The drive to the hospital was dreadful. My mom gave me a bucket because I felt carsick, and I felt like a vampire who was being exposed to light every time we approached a traffic light. It was so bright it hurt my eyes. Furthermore, you NEVER realise how many little bumps and dips there are in a road until you have to drive on it in my condition. Obviously my mom was trying to get me to the hospital as fast as she could, but I kept telling her to slow down because every speed bump, every crack in the road made it feel like my brain is bumping against my scull.
When we got to the hospital my mother was like: "Wheelchair! You need a wheelchair! Stay in the car and I will go get you one". I convinced her that it is only like 20m to the entrance, with her support I can walk there (with my bucket in hand, cause I still felt like I was going to puke at any second).
Somehow I ended up in the emergency room ( it is round about here that things started to get confusing and fuzzy). I just remember that everything was so white and damn bright I wanted to die. And on top of that they looked into my eyes with those little flashlight things. It felt like I could only see one colour - bright painful white.
I was lying on the bed with my eyes closed and hands over my eyes to block out the white rays of torture. So I just heard parts of my mother's conversation with the doctor. Now you have to understand that here in South Africa we are still a bit conservative, and pole dancing as a sport is something very few people have ever heard of. It is not a common thing in my country. In my country pole dancing is still associated to the stigma of strip clubs.
My mother was really trying hard to explain to the doctor that I am a pole dancer, but the acrobatic type, that I do it for fitness. So she was telling him about competitions, and what a great form of exercise it is and that it is being considered as an Olympic sport, all of that. Now that I think of it, my mother probably never looked at her blond little 6 year old girl and thought that she would ever have to explain such a situation to a doctor.
In any way, I ended up in a wheelchair. Once again, it felt like they had put me in a race car. I kept telling the nurse to slow down, because I couldn't handle the "speed" she was pushing me at. I went for X-rays, can't remember that. This is what I have been told. I don't even remember how I got back to the car or into the house. All I remember was that the sun was coming up as we were leaving the hospital with a sick note stating that I have a concussion and that I am booked of for 5 working days, but that I must rest the weekend as well. Furthermore the doctor gave my mother instructions which she kept on repeating to me:
You should lie down as much as possible, you shouldn't really walk, you can't watch TV blah blah. So 'we' meaning my mother decided the TV room couch would be perfect for me. I could lie there day and night and the guest bathroom was just a couple of steps away.
So my journey started. First of all the doctor prescribed me pain pills, but I HATE swollowing pills, and to me swallowing those pills he prescribed was the equivalent of swallowing a chicken egg whole or something. Not going to happen. So I phoned my boyfriend and he brought me some pain syrup, which I drank out of the bottle because I had the worst headache in the world.
Before he arrived my mother left for work, leaving me home alone with my younger sister who is also studying, so she is at home when she doesn't have class. I thought, whatever, I can walk, I can watch TV. Or not. I thought I might watch a movie or something, but my eyes just couldn't focus on the TV! I saw blurred and double images, and it made me feel nauseous so I just turned it off. Then I tried walking, my sister (as instructed by my mother) tried to stop me but I was like whatever, I can walk, I can lean against the wall. Two minutes later: sister helping me to the couch because I can't walk or stand up straight.
So I slept, but my dreams were so real, and reality was so foggy. I couldn't distinguish between the two for at least 2 days. My boyfriend will come and visit, and I would talk about how nice it was of him to visit me twice in one day, and then he was like, no, this is the first time. Then I am just all confused again. Big blur of confusion.
The department I was studying at was ruthless. Which is ironic because the lecturers were all so kind, but sometimes I wondered whether there is actually something going on in their heads. Because they will forget tests and so on. I will have pulled an all-nighter, and taken off from work so that I can pitch up for the test at 6pm on a Friday and then?! The lecturer would be like 'are we writing today? Oh well, I forgot, we will write next week, so lets go on with class'. Now it did not take me long to realise that I wasn't their favourite student in the class. I got the time off due to my concussion, but I had big assignments and tests AND presentations due right after my 'sick leave' which they all decided I must do.
So on day 6 and 7 when I was supposed to rest, I was doing two assignments at once, day 8 I did a group presentation in front of the whole class (standing the whole 20 min, even though it felt like I wanted to pass out) and handed in all my assignments. It took me moths to recover from that week.
And so it was, by the end of the year I couldn't give a damn about my studies anymore, I was so drained and behind on everything (due to one week I took off) I didn't even study for 3/4 of my exams. Really, I went in there without opening a book and I passed every single subject. CHA!
But now I have a minor fear of poles, even though I did not get my concussion from falling from the pole, I am still scared that I would hit my head again and then have to go through that ordeal once again. So in most of my classes I have someone spotting me now. Just for in case.
I never thought a concussion could be so debilitating. But it was.
Now we are really doing the spotting thing in our studio. The other night a student that I spotted felt like she was going to fall, and she grabbed on to the first thing she got hold of, which was incidentally my boob. But it is ok. In the world of pole fitness you would rather grab a boob, or let someone grab your boob than get a concussion.
End of story.
