I often tell stories about patients and athletes that I have taken care of. I’ve been doing this a very long time so I have plenty of stories to tell.
Maybe it is about their accomplishments, the things they have done and maybe the hard work that it took to get there. Sports are not easy. Rehab is not easy. It takes diligence and persistence to get the results that you want. Those just happen to be two things that I value the most. So, I like to tell their stories.
Or maybe I’ll talk about a coach or teacher and the influence that they have on their players and students. Those folks have a tough job and always, always get too little thanks for what they do.
But one category of stories seldom shared in this space, is the effect that patients have had on me. In the fabric of my life, that is woven so richly. Yet I never talk about it here. That’s about to change.
I can remember one of my first patients when I was still a student. He was a Memphis State football player that was rendered a quadriplegic from a cervical injury when he ducked his head going to make a tackle. He was a robust, charismatic young man, about my own age, and I knew that he had no idea what turn his life was about to take.
He taught me never to take my health for granted. And that this gift that I was about to be given, a career as a physical therapist, was something to be cherished and nurtured for surely I must be there to take care of those like him.
About that same time, I became responsible for the rehab of a 13 year old boy who had a spinal cord infact, rendering him a paraplegic. He was playing in the yard when he suddenly collapsed. He never walked again. We are friends to this day and he will drop in on me for a chat from time to time.
He taught me that we should always make the best of whatever situation that we are in. Here he was, just a young boy, but he was ready to tackle the world. He’s done so—on his terms, and has become an amazing adult.
From time to time, I will take care of this amazing lady who is an internationally ranked athlete even as she approaches her 80’s. Super competitive, she does all the little things constantly and plays her game like someone less than half her age.
She has taught me that age is just a number. And to not let others decide what is appropriate activity for us, whatever our age might be.
It works the other way too. I had a patient one time (well, several really) that acted 100 and had every ailment known to medicine. When I looked at her birthday, I discovered she was only a slight bit older than me. She taught me that I didn’t want to be 66 going on 96 but, better yet, I might want to be 66 going on 36.
I’ve learned from my children as well. Both of them have had their share of injuries and, of course, I was right there with them to take care of them. They taught me that I have to separate my duties as a father from my duties as the one taking care of them when they’re hurt.
That one hits home when you think about all the young athletes that I’ve taken care of through the years. I’ve been close to a bunch of them. But when they are injured, I have to put all emotions aside and do the job that I’m trained to do.
Those many loving and gracious parents of my athletes have taught me that I have a responsibility to be the best that I can be, every moment. I can take no days off or phone it in. When someone is hurt, I have to bring my “A” game…always. Those parents expect that of me.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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