My case is actually really sad. It has been life changing. I've suffered from severe depression. I still can't exercise to this day. I've had headaches for almost five years straight.
I don't think people know how serious it is, because you look like a functioning human being. It's pretty tough when you're a tough hockey player, and here you are with depression and a bunch of other things going on in your personal life and you can't play your sport anymore.
Going back to the camp in September 2006, I got hit from behind and went headfirst into the boards. I kept playing, and between periods—this is in 2006, which is not that long ago—I approached a Team Canada doctor and I said to her, “I got hit pretty hard; I just want to make sure I'm okay.” One of my teammates said to get the doctor to look at me.
She did her concussion tests, put me back in the game, and I got two more hits to the head. I got second-impact syndrome, third-impact syndrome, and that changed the rest of my life, basically. I went home and I ended up in the hospital the next day. Often your symptoms will not come out for a few days; your worst symptoms come out two days later.
In my mind, when you see a head impact like that, it should be automatic removal from the game. I like this whole darkroom concept.
If you get hit again, you are in real trouble. I don't think people understand that. I run hockey camps with kids, so I'm on the ice all the time with little kids. They're falling back and hitting their heads, and you have to remove them. They're not going to know until the next day.