Kari Shull, head volleyball coach
FREMONT – When things were their bleakest and the pain was searing, there was volleyball.
When names escaped her and stress and emotions threatened to overwhelm her, she always had the game.
When Kari Shull’s life forever changed, the court became her constant.
Fremont Ross’ first-year volleyball coach brings with her a depth of knowledge of the game, but even moreso an experience that life, like sports, can hit you with unexpected challenges.
“Coaching makes me tick, it’s my passion,” Shull said. “It’s what I love to do. I get on the court and I feel at home.”
The accident
It all began on a day she wasn’t coaching in October, 2014. Then living in Columbus, Shull was stopped in southbound traffic on I-270 and speaking to her mother on her hands-free device when her car was struck by a teenager texting and driving.
With her car hit on the rear-passenger side, Shull, who was wearing a seatbelt, was thrown forward and to the right, her head striking the windshield and then the headrest of her seat. She remained conscious and calmly said goodbye to her mother on the phone.
Taken by ambulance to a local hospital, tests were inconclusive but it was suspected she may have suffered a concussion and she should follow up with her family physician the following day. Even before she left the hospital, however, Shull knew something was amiss.
“I’m starting to get agitated, a little unsteady,” she said. “I’m starting to get irritated by things that don’t bother me. When I sit up or take a walk to go to the restroom, I’m a little dizzy, a little disoriented.”
The aftermath
Ross volleyball coach Kari Shull goes over a drill with her players during practice.
The following hours, days, weeks and months started what has become a permanent battle to return to normal – or at least as normal as possible.
Friends stayed with her the night of the accident and it soon became clear Shull was no longer herself. She was quick-tempered, easily irritated and, at times, downright mean. Her friends, half-jokingly, called her Louise, because her personality had so dramatically split.
Then the following day’s appointment simply overwhelmed her.
“I couldn’t even walk in, I just sat down (on the floor),” she said. “There were too many colors, too many lights, too many people, too much stuff going on. I just sat down in the middle of the floor and said, ‘I’m not moving.’”
During the examination, Shull could no longer draw a circle, nor tie her shoes. The knowledge of how to do so had simply left her memory. The concussion was proving itself to be severe, but the extent of the damage was still revealing itself.
Unaware where her father had taken her after the appointment, Shull didn’t recognize her own home.
“I basically reverted back to being a 5-year-old,” she said. “I asked him ‘What is that blob-thing with four legs walking around?’”
That blob-thing was her cat.
Symptoms persist
Ross volleyball coach Kari Shull oversees a drill with her players during practice.
Shull had never been an emotional person. Her friends of more than a decade had never seen her cry. After the accident, she cried over random and trivial things. Her easy-going, no-troubles demeanor replaced by stress and anxiety.
Shull couldn’t sleep but when she did she often had nightmares. The lack of sleep exacerbated her symptoms, including migraines. Short-term memory eluded her.
A Neurologist required her to stay home, wearing sunglasses, with no lights on and no electronic devices for six weeks. Her stove was turned off and visitors, whom she may or may not have recognized, came in the morning and evening to bring her food.
Shull’s symptoms, however, continued. More than six months after her injury, Shull’s Neurologist referred her to Ohio State University’s Traumatic Brain Injury unit. There, Shull was diagnosed with a Traumatic Brain Injury and came under the care of Dr. Sheital Bavishi.
The brain damage Shull suffered in the accident remains with her today and will do so for the rest of her life. But, finally, with the TBI specialists at OSU and the care of Dr. Bavishi, Shull was on her way back to a normal-functioning life
“She saved my life, she put me back together,” Shull said. “I owe her where I’m at, for sure.”
Hope…and volleyball
Ross volleyball coach Kari Shull oversees a drill with her players during practice.
Despite the brain injury, the pain, depression and migraines, as well as extensive occupational and physical therapies, Shull’s commitment to volleyball never wavered. She continued to coach the CVA Pickering Volleyball Club. She wore ear plugs and sunglasses to reduce the toll of the noise and lights. She rested between matches, sometimes resting her head on the shoulders of players’ parents.
Shull needed volleyball. The physical discomfort it may have caused was trumped by the mental familiarity it brought. So much of her life had changed. Volleyball remained the same.
“That is long-term memory for me,” Shull said. “Even if my head was pounding with a 12 out of 10-scale migraine, it was the most comfortable I felt, being on the court.”
Year of change
Change can be a challenge. Shull likes routine. Her TBI requires it.
Change brings with it stress.
But, as it turns out, sometimes change is good.
In early 2016, Shull resumed her social life. Soon she met Brandon, who lived in Fremont. Not long after the two were married and Shull moved to Fremont to be with her new husband.
Ross volleyball coach Kari Shull oversees a drill with her players during practice.
New husband, new name, new city, new job.
“(The changes) definitely put some of that permanent damage to the test, for sure,” Shull said.
Of all the changes in the last few months, however, one change in particular, helped her cope with all the others: Taking over the Ross volleyball program.
“I really liked the opportunity here at Fremont Ross. Volleyball is in my blood. Coaching is in my blood. Now I’m doing it year-round,” she said.
“I’ve always felt home on the court, so for me it was an easy (decision). We talked about when I moved, with all the change going on, and my TBI and everything, ‘I think it’d be good if I coached.’”
A life interrupted…and resumed
The affects from the accident will be with her forever. Being susceptible to emotions, stress and migraines and occasionally misplacing things around the house are just facts of life now. As is the knowledge that another significant blow to the head could potentially be fatal.
“You go to a Traumatic Brain Injury clinic and there are definitely a lot of people in way worse shape than me,” she said. “It could have been way worse.”
Shull said the key to maintaining the progress she’s made is being proactive against measures that could affect her stress-levels and uses different coping mechanisms. In conversations, she reads lips in addition to listening, and she takes notes when speaking on the phone. The multiple mediums help her memory retain information. The most important strategy, however, is making sure she gets enough sleep and maintains strict adherence to routine.
“I can’t be up at 5 one day and 7 the next, stay up to midnight and sleep to 10,” she said. “Eating healthy, exercise every single day. Have time for Kari just to get lost in her thoughts and reset and regroup.”
And there is humor. She and her husband joke about whether he registers in her long-term memory. They chuckle when he finds a light bulb next to the eggs in the refrigerator.
But wherever the light bulbs get placed and whatever emotions and stressors threaten to derail the progress she has made in the nearly three years since the accident, Shull knows there will always be a safe place. A place where
memories reside that no brain injury can touch.
“I walk in the gym and it’s a 900 square-foot court,” she said. “Volleyball is volleyball, no matter what court I’m standing on. I think that helped me a lot.”