These are My Reflections: [D]Pt. I & II

Part I:

A systematic theme over the outcomes of my life has always been one that leaves me feeling as though I could have done much more. Today, as I reflect upon the goals I set for myself at the beginning of this course, I do not necessarily have this feeling. My initial goal was to render “the ability to look deeper into a matter immediately after the matter has occurred,” in an effort to solve the problem as quickly as possible.

All professionals have metaphorical or tangible tool belts. Physical therapists have goniometers and manipulations, Popeye has spinach, and Batman has batarangs and a zipline. What builds the efficacy of a professional is their ability to call upon these skills in a matter of seconds in their individual lines of work, but it all starts with how they think.

I comfortably reside in the fact that I acquired the skill I initially set out to ascertain at the beginning of this course. Through conversations with peers, reading and writing on numerous topics, and developing relationships with faculty who know much more about these skills than I do. I believe this cornerstone of knowledge is one that will withstand future winds of uncomfortable learning, and will not wash away like biased thought built on a house of sand.

The goal was to acquire the axe, and though it may be dull, I have the wet stone to sharpen it. I believe I have found a mentor like Liam Neeson in Taken. He “[has] a very particular set of skills, skills acquired over a very long career.” This is a grand happenstance, as it is my hope to saturate every gyri of my cerebral cortex; well, more specifically my hippocampus, as I move forward in this crazy whirlwind known as Physical Therapy School.

Part II:

Dear Self,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been an arduous and downright difficult journey.

But alas, as sure and true as Chris D’elia’s impression of drunk girls: 

WE DID IT. We actually did it. You are graduating this week. All of the cadaveric blood, lab partner sweat, and learning-the-gait-cycle-tears have paid off. You are about to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy. We are at the event horizon now, so let’s take a look back shall we? 

We have learned a lot over these years. So much about anatomy and biomechanics, pain science, and biopsychosocial models of medicine. From school and internships, we’ve had a very real and visceral look into what is to be expected in our next 40 years in the field. From the internet, we’ve learned that a lot of our colleagues have varying, and sometimes vehement, opinions on the path that should be trodden with patients to arrive at the same conclusion – return to what they love to do.

Furthermore – stretching is usually not warranted, foam rollers just kinda suck, and saying adhesions on the Internet is a sure-fire way to get a lot of people #triggered,

so avoid that all costs. But always continue to promote loading it over stretching it, that just always seems to get the job done.

You’ve surrounded yourself with a group of individuals whose hope is to change the game of Physical Therapy – stay close with them. Ya’ll have a lot of work to do, so stay diligent once you walk out of that venue with your cap and gown. These are my reflections.

Your benediction is as follows:

Continue to ask questions, always ascertain the why, show others the why, learn something new daily, problem solve, know why you do things before you do them, remember why you went into this field, help people, empower people, love people. 

  

Eyes.

"You're definitely headed that direction."

Where to, you might ask? Definitely not down the yellow brick road with Toto in my basket. This time, the [wo]man (or Dr. if we're being nit picky) behind the curtain was referencing my vision. More specifically, the lack thereof and the problems associated with it. 

A person kinda knows when there's something just not right inside their body. So when I scheduled my yearly eye exam, I had a feeling that at least a miniature C4 explosion would be dropped into my lap. And it really depends on who ya ask but in the grand scheme of things, this isn't exactly an atomic bomb. But what really is nowadays anyway? 

So while I wish my Dr. was telling me that I was headed toward a tub of ice cream or improved coordination while completing daily tasks or even a social filter that's less Sheldon Cooper and more First Lady, she wasn't. My handy dandy pamphlet that Dr. Baker sent me home with defines Glaucoma as, "an eye disorder that causes progressive damage to the optic nerve and loss of nerve tissue resulting in loss of vision, especially peripheral vision." Well, LA TEE DA! My first thought was that I'm 25. Thought #2: I have no family history of Glaucoma. #3: I'm literally the healthiest person in this building right now, how could this be possible. #4: you gotta be able to see to practice medicine. If I let myself think about #4 for too long, that’s about the only time I become visibly upset. Otherwise, I find myself very okay with it all.

I think that the human body is a magnificent and fascinating thing. Here I am, a 25-year-old Caucasian that was just told she’s in the early stages of Glaucoma, a disease that statistically affects African Americans over 40 and Hispanics over 60. Yay for always going against the grain! Now before I continue and your little hearts go pitter-patter with too much sympathy, the odds of me going blind in this lifetime are slim, I’m pretty sure. Glaucoma is a slow progressing disease, treatments exist and we caught it early. The odds of me losing portions of my field of vision; unknown. The pressure in my eyes has always been high and it has fluctuated greatly over the course of my patient history with this doctor. However, my optic nerve has thinned at a concerning rate over the years but, we just don’t know what exactly will happen. Many people get diagnosed with Glaucoma at a young age and never see a change in their vision. But loss of vision and blindness can occur. My Dr. is particularly aware of my case because I have zero indicators of the disease. Why I’m “headed in that direction,” again, we don’t know. Which brings me back to why I think the human body is so fascinating.

The only thing constant in life is change, right? It is so with our bodies as well. Your taste buds change every 7 years, cancer survivors often regrow hair of different texture, your hypothalamus is constantly secreting hormones to keep the body in a homeostatic state and for a handful of reasons, the pressure in my eyes may increase and my optic nerve may thin so much that my vision may or may not be altered. But when I sit back and think about it, I can’t help but acknowledge how absolutely cool it is that a mostly perfectly healthy body, with zero hereditary indicators, can still change like that. It’s a wondrous thing to know that we are not in control. This doesn’t mean that I am being captured by a possible change in my sight. There is no hindrance. Instead, I get to shift as my body does and for that I am grateful. I have been allowed to live a certain way and obtain a certain awareness of life over the passed 25 years and now, I get to do new things. Whether physical changes occur or not, whether I never lose a single speck of vision or I lose it all, I get to experience and respond to things in new ways because what has changed is my mentality, my light, my spirit. The things that make me, me. Again, this shift is something that was out of my control. One doesn’t really realize that it’s even happening. The course of my life may or may not change according to my eyeballs and I find it an incredibly fascinating thing to have the privilege to learn how to navigate such a shift.

So I guess the reason I’m sharing all of this long-winded stuff with you and the real question is, what do you do when you get rocked with something in life? What do you do when you’re suddenly uncomfortable with what you thought was your normal?  Or when you’re not really that happy with something you were once happy with and change has come yodeling its little heart out? Do you go down with a TKO and await your demise in the corner of the ring thinking that it’s just a phase and you just gotta shake it off before the 10 count? Do you keep on livin’ the same way? Life is LITERALLY a constant state of entropy and yet, we are all called to great things. You are not meant to spend even one millisecond on this earth being in a state of internal distress. No matter if it’s a firework or a nuke. So when life shifts, don’t waste time avoiding the change and instead, choose to shift with it. Be the Cowardly Lion, surround yourself with preferably a less frivolous bunch than Dorothy, Tin Man, and Scarecrow (but keep the ruby slippers) and head that direction. Whether you can see or not.