Constable: Long Grove woman rebuilding life after brain injury

An elite soccer player, speedy Carmel High School freshman Quinna Phillips raced toward a loose ball in the final regular-season game against Stevenson High School.

A captain of the junior varsity team who played enough varsity to earn her letter and draw emails from college coaches, the diminutive 15-year-old Long Grove girl's ultimate goal was to win a spot one day on the U.S. national team.

All of that vanished by the end of that game May 6, 2013.

“Quinna was special,” says Jean-Pierre Tokoto, a member of the 1982 Cameroon national World Cup team, who coached Quinna and her older brother, Dax, on Schwaben premier traveling soccer teams out of Buffalo Grove. “Quinna had unbelievable potential. She could make things happen on the field, so fast, at times unstoppable.”

That's why Quinna was confident that she'd either win the race to the ball or be able to steal it. Instead, her opponent got there first. And kicked.

“I wasn't expecting it,” says Quinna, who braced as the ball rocketed into her face and her head snapped back. “My head took all the impact. I lost consciousness for five seconds.”

After crumpling to the turf, Quinna got to her feet, answered a couple of questions from the opposing team's trainer and finished the game. That night she had a headache and felt nauseated. The next day at school, she felt worse and called her mom. A doctor diagnosed a concussion.

“I couldn't read a book, watch TV or listen to music,” remembers Quinna, a straight-A student who was told to take a break from travel soccer for the summer.

But she was still allowed to run. Having enjoyed similar early success as a runner — winning her first 5K at age 11 in Arlington Heights when she not only beat the 13-year-olds in her division but won the overall women's competition — Quinna was given permission to run cross-country for Carmel that fall. At a meet Oct. 20, 2013, she had a second accident.

No one is certain what happened. Her parents, David Phillips and Lisa Schultz, suspect Quinna might have taken a spill running through the woods during the meet. Then, after the competition, a teammate was carrying Quinna on her back when the girls slipped and Quinna hit her head on the grass.

Her problems grew worse.

She couldn't concentrate on her homework, wasn't sure if a language assignment was in French or Spanish and thought the phrase “Google it” was gibberish.

“Certainly, if you get another blow to the head before you've recovered from a concussion, that second blow can cause worsening symptoms and prolonged recovery,” says Dr. Cynthia R. LaBella, medical director of the Institute for Sports Medicine at Lurie Children's Hospital of Chicago, an associate professor of pediatrics at Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine, and Quinna's doctor. “All concussions are brain injuries, and they are all caused by trauma.”

Just as former Chicago Bears great Gale Sayers recently revealed his problems with dementia, Quinna wanted to share her story at the beginning of March to highlight National Traumatic Brain Injury Awareness Month. That she couldn't find the energy to talk about it until late in the month explains a lot about what the teenager has gone through for the past four years.

Carmel parted ways with Quinna, who ended up spending a few happy weeks at a school in North Carolina, and taking an extra year to finish her high school education through a home-schooling program. “Fatigue and pain are the two worst and enduring symptoms,” she says.

A volunteer active in a variety of causes since elementary school, especially those involving children, Quinna, 19, works a few hours a week with Autism Workforce, helping companies accommodate the needs of employees on the autism spectrum. Car rides can be difficult, or impossible, for her. She has trouble with new people or places. Noise, light and even patterns in wallpaper or carpet can put her into a fetal position on the floor.

“Every day, the rest of us get a 55-gallon drum of energy,” her mom explains. “Quinna gets a cup.”

That is difficult for others to understand.

“People with traumatic brain injury are so often not believed,” Quinna says. “If someone asks me to do something on Saturday, I have to look at Thursday and Friday and maybe the previous week.”

About 15 percent of people with concussions have symptoms that last longer than six weeks, says LaBella, who notes that Quinna's sad, long tale isn't unusual at her clinic.

“You can't see a headache. You can't see difficulty concentrating. You can't see dizziness. You can't see problems falling asleep,” the doctor says, noting only 40 percent of her concussion patients were injured in sports. Most brain injuries occur in falls or other accidents. She has one gymnast who suffered a concussion simply by moving her head quickly during an awkward landing.

“That can cause a concussion even though your head doesn't hit anything,” says LaBella. Having seen her monthly for years, the doctor wrote a letter of recommendation that helped Quinna recently win admission into Colorado College. That college uses a “block” curriculum that allows students to take one class every day for 3½ weeks before moving on to another class, which might work best for Quinna, who managed to score a near-perfect 35 on her ACT test despite her injury.

During the past four years, Quinna has missed out on soccer, cross-country, college scholarships, winning trophies on a pony named Cactus, going to her prom and graduation. But she's most acutely aware of missing the chance for simple pleasures. “I never got the mundane, 'Hey, let's hang out,' movies, or buying Cheetos at the grocery store,” she says before losing her place in the conversation.

“I'm sorry. I can't filter,” she explains. “You aren't focusing on that grandfather clock ticking, but I am.”

While doctors know how long it takes to recover from an ankle sprain or a torn ligament, “with brain injuries, recovery could range from zero days to many years,” LaBella says. “No two concussions are the same.”

Quinna's life has no schedules. Having grown up with severe food allergies, Quinna has learned how to cope with setbacks and adapt. Committed to working with children and interested in science and math, Quinna says she is determined to become a neurologist. She has used her stays in hospitals and rehabilitation centers as a chance to learn from doctors.

“I cannot wait to use my head and heart to change the world through the study and application of neuroscience,” Quinna says. “I want to look at it from the science side, take a case and figure our exactly what's going on and try to help those kids.”