The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I dealt with a couple of quite severe injuries this week.  Not quite catastrophic, as both these young athletes will one day be well and healthy.

It was my job to be there to take care of them when they were hurt.  It will be my job to do the rehab that gets them both back to playing their sports.  Running that gamut is what makes my job the best job around.

But it is also my job to help the injured athlete get through the emotional part of the injury.  And that part starts at the moment of the injury.

It starts with trust.  I don't believe in hiding anything from them.  I am honest with them about everything and then when I tell them that they will be OK, that they know that they can trust me.

That when they look in my eyes, they know that yes indeed it will all be OK one day.

We're currently rehabbing a big time marathon runner who also happens to be a friend of mine.  His knee surgery, which he knew was inevitable several months ago, has really gotten him down.  He is afraid he will never run again.

He and I chatted just the other day and I told him that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  That before this surgery, that light might be the train bearing down on him in that same dark tunnel.

But now the future is bright.  He will likely run again but has already decided that his days as a marathoner are over. 

So how do you help someone through the pain and the process of a significant injury?  When they are laying there with a broken bone or torn ligament, what can you do, what can you say, to help them get through it?

At the moment that they know that it is serious (and they almost always know without being told), what do you do to restore hope?

First, they need to see a calmness.  That can help set the stage for dealing with all these emotions.  

That's the caregivers, the family members, the coaches...everybody.

For those taking care of the injury--the doctors, the athletic trainers, the EMT's--doing your job, taking care of them with confidence is everything. 

Not too long ago, I dealt with a truly catastrophic injury--an injury that I knew was bad.  My words "you've just got to get through this" were what this person remembered most about the process of getting loaded up in the ambulance.

But in the end, I guess that there aren't really words to say that can help them bridge that gap from injury to wholeness again.  It really has to come from within.  You can only help (or hurt).

I want my kids (those athletes entrusted to my care) to know that I truly care for them.  That I only have their best interests at heart.  That I will never lie to them.

Kids are resilient.  Give them a chance and they will work hard to be as good or better than they once were.  It's another part of why my job is so great.

And seeing that light at the end of the tunnel is everything.  

Why Do Kids Not Have Summer Jobs Anymore?

I saw an article asking the question "why do our kids not have summer jobs anymore?"   So I asked around a bit.

I asked Drake Martin, MHS senior who plays football and baseball.  Drake worked all summer at a local landscaping/gardening retailer, putting in long hot days after football workouts every morning, baseball workouts, camps, and on and on.

I ran into Hannah Crook who in addition to pursuing a degree in nursing at Carson-Newman holds down at times as many as three jobs.  Lifeguard, caregiver, swimming instructor.

According to one study, there has been a 40% drop in summer employment over the last 12 years.  

Another study stated that only 25% of 16-19 year olds hold summer employment in America today. 

So obviously these ambitious two are more the exception. 

So what does that mean?  Are kids today lazier, less ambitious? I would suggest that is not the case at all, but more on that later.

One of the problem is year-round sports participation.  There really isn't a down season anymore.  TSSAA has even added a "dead period" for high school athletes during which they can't participate in school-related activities (workouts or practice).

But that just leaves more time for their travel teams or for camps or for "showcases."  Yes, it would appear that if you want your kid to get that all-elusive college scholarship, they've got to spend the entire year focusing on their sport.  No time for jobs there.

Year-round school is another deterrent to the summer job.  I don't know what I think about that.  Those that are in year-round schools seem to love it.  Those that aren't don't want to have anything to do with it.  It does limit employment opportunities though.

A lot of teenagers are participating in really great extended learning programs.  In the ever-increasing pressure to create an impressive resume so you can get into the college of your choice, such programs seem almost necessary.  Not a bad thing but maybe they're missing out on the lessons learned from a real job.

Of course a summer job means that you can't go to summer camps or travel with the family.  Surely that is a loss for the student. 

So what does it all mean?  Do kids today lack the "work ethic" of the baby boomer?

My generation works things to death.  Too hard really.  In high school, I did farm work, bagged groceries at the White Store, and mowed yards.  In college, my jobs varied from summers in my hometown factory to teaching lacrosse to kids at the YMCA (and most everything in between).

Even now I put in too many hours, stay at football practice until late, and then go home and do yard work, farm work, and honey-do's.

I would suggest that young folks today do two things very differently:  They work smarter and they have a different value system from us older folks.  They still work as hard but work more efficiently, targeting projects and activities that help them reach personal goals.

There is no way that people of my generation worked as hard at sports as today's young athletes do.  

We just didn't have the opportunities they do.   The result is bigger, faster, better athletes.  It's really beyond argument.

And young folks today value personal time, the opportunities to do the things that make them happy, and a more well-rounded life.

Maybe they're missing the many things you learned from summer jobs and earning a paycheck but in the long run maybe they're going to be better off because of it.

We can only hope so because the future is in their hands.  

The History of the Jock Doc

I was asked a couple of times how long I had written this column.  I have to admit, I'm not exactly sure.

It's somewhere around 30 years.  It all started when The Daily Times Sports Editor Gary Turner asked me to write a piece for the newspaper addressing questions about sports medicine. 

I recruited Dr. Bob Haralson, the founder of Maryville Orthopedic Clinic, to join me and we took week about answering questions that we got from readers and some that we created ourselves.  It was called The Jock Doc.

We floated along like that for a couple of years and then Dr. Haralson turned it all over to me and it became a column.  For a long time, it appeared a couple of times a month.

In about 1990, it became a weekly feature and sometime in there was moved to Sundays.  It has remained focused on sports and athletic health care but the good folks at The Daily Times have given me the latitude to preach about a wide range of topics. 

I've generally avoided religion and politics but even those have been touched through the years.

What all that means is that I have produced a 900 word essay every week, 52 weeks a year, for 25 years or so.  From somebody who wasn't a particularly good English student in high school

Well...no...the truth is, I hated English.  And hated writing essays even more.  I've told the story here before about Dr. Barrett, the UT English professor that changed all that (although my senior English teacher in high school, Edward Headlee, planted that seed).

In a nutshell, Dr. Barrett brought me in to his office and asked me why I was such an underachieving student in his class.  He saw something in me that I didn't know I had.

And if you've followed my column through the years, you know that my high school football coach did pretty much the same thing.  He was the person that gave me the confidence to seek success that has served me so well since that day when he told a bystander to football practice "if he works at it, he can be a good one."

So here I sit, pondering 30+ years of writing a newspaper column.  Make no mistake, it is a labor of love.  And I have no plans to quit.

But I've reached the conclusion that we all have an overwhelming obligation to see the good in people, the skills they have, the traits they possess and then to tell them about it.

This is my place to do that.

My personal goal in this space is to be uplifting and positive.  Sure, I might occasionally speak out against injustices and I do have particularly strong feelings about smoking and other bad health practices, but I try to couch even those in positive ways.  I believe if that you are going to point out a problem that you should be ready to provide a solution.

Thinking about your own sports experiences, who were your favorite coaches?  Those that yelled all the time?  That never had a good thing to say?

Or maybe it was that coach that knew when you needed a boost.  Who might have been demanding but who saw things in you that you didn't even know you had.  Who were a positive influence on you.

Those are the best coaches out there, in my opinion. 

Be a positive influence in somebody's life.  Every day.  The world will be a better place.

Dealing with the Heat (for the umpteenth time)

Between bike rides, hiking, gardening, farming, and football practice, if I'm not at work (or asleep), I'm outside.  Because of that, I sport a pretty good tan year round

And it's not for lack of sunscreen.  Goodness knows, I slather it on heavy and often.

Still, it's never quite enough.

So I visit my dermatologist every year and depend on him to take good care of me. 

With football practice in full swing this week, it's time for me to offer my sort-of annual address on dealing with the heat.  I think this is the umpteenth time I've done so.

Yet, the basic message stays the same. 

Hydrate.  Early and often.  Pre-hydrate even.  If you know you're going to be out in the heat, start drinking fluids.

On the bicycle, you don't feel like you are sweating that much since the constantly moving air keeps most of the sweat evaporated away.  But that just means that your body's cooling system it is doing its job.

Proof of that is found when you get off the bike and find that you are crusty with salt.

Sports drinks are good.  Water is good.  Sodas are bad.  I find most sports drinks a little too sweet so I make my own or dilute it a bit.  Still, the electrolytes in most sports drinks mean that they are absorbed into your system more quickly.

And those electrolytes are essential.  They must be replaced. 

It's always good to check the color of your urine when you are exercising or working in hot weather.  

It should be a pale yellow.  Anything more and you didn't get enough fluids in your system. 

Wear clothing that is both reflective (lighter, brighter colors) and allows air to circulate.  Loose fitting clothing is usually the best but there are some great high tech products out there that fit tight but offer improved evaporation. 

If possible, avoid the hottest part of the day.  Yeah...I know...easy to say-hard to do.  Try your best.

Take breaks.  Wear a hat.  Stay wet. 

If you are exercising in the heat, it's best to have a buddy.  One important sign that you are having problems in dealing with the heat is confusion.  A buddy can see that in you and can intervene.

Heat illness is serious stuff.  It can kill you.

Excess sweating, red face, labored breathing, weakness, nausea--all those are signs that you are having serious problems in dealing with the heat.  Seek shelter, get wet, get cool however you can.  

Immersion in cold weather is your best path.

If you are confused, stop sweating, or have cool, clammy skin, you are in the middle of a medical emergency and need to get an ambulance as soon as possible.

You don't have to stay inside the rest of the summer.  You just need to be smart about it.

Be safe.  Have fun.

Pre-Participation Physicals

This week and next, pre-participation physicals will be provided to the student-athletes at our area high schools.

Under the direction of Maryville Orthopedic Clinic (thank you Drs. Bell, Morgan, Griffith, Thomas, Winn, and Asbury) whose doctors also serve as team physicians for our local schools, these would be impossible without the huge contributions from the physicians at Blount Memorial Hospital and East Tennessee Medical Group, as well as other local doctors, athletic trainers, physical therapists, physician assistants, and nurses.

This annual event is a valuable service to our local schools, giving a baseline of safety to sports participation.  Held en masse until just a few years ago, now each high school is done at their own school and coordinated by their team physician and head athletic trainer (and in case you're wondering, we were doing these in Blount County long before they were even thought about in Knoxville).

But it is not medical care.  It was never meant to be medical care.

It was meant to be a screening process to make sure that it is safe for your child to participate in inter-scholastic sports.

It was meant to identify health issues that need medical follow-up, maybe before they can participate in their sport.

Every (I repeat...EVERY) child of school age needs a pediatrician.  Yes, I know that is terribly self-serving since my daughter is a local pediatrician, but I've been preaching that same sermon since before she was twelve and wanted to be a veterinarian.

Every child needs a medical doctor who knows that child's medical and family history.  Who can call them by name when they walk in the door.

A doctor who can be honest and thorough because they know your child and his or her family.  And who doesn't have to worry that you're going to change doctors just because you disagree with them.

A doctor with whom your child can be honest and open because he or she trusts that doctor.  There are just some things that they might talk to a doctor about when they won't talk to you.

I ask that you help us take the best possible care of your child by establishing this relationship with a pediatrician.

You may think that you can't afford it but I suggest that you can't afford not to do it.  I would remind you that there are all sorts of resources out there to help you afford the care your child should have.

And as the parent of children that benefited from this service, I suggest that you join me in a big round of applause for our own medical community for making this happen.

The Heart of the Beast (Story of a Train Wreck)

I'll get back to sports in a minute (OK...next week) but I'd like to tell you about the train wreck.

Oh, you heard all about the train wreck?  About how our community really pulled together and how everybody is OK and all that?

Great.  There is all that.  But there's more.  There's the insider's perspective that maybe you hadn't heard yet.

Here's the scoop:  My son and his family live about 300 yards from the wreck site.  For whatever reason, they didn't get the evacuation notification. 

When they did find out, they headed for my house.  But that was only after several hours in the "hot zone."

So a bit later, when my 2 year old grandson developed a cough, it was decided that they should all head for the hospital.

For the record, let me state that I work for Blount Memorial Hospital. And I've worked in health care for almost 38 years. So if you sense bias here, so be it.   

Anyway, my wife and grandson were the first to arrive, meeting me at the bay to the Emergency Room, where staff had set up a triage center.  It was about noon and there was a steady stream of arrivals, some by ambulance, some by private vehicle.

They were quickly taken to the decontamination area.  My wife could have opted out but there was no way she was going to send her grandson through that without her.

Their clothes were taken, I sprayed them down with a soap mixture, and they went through a series of four showers.  They were then given scrubs to wear and taken to the Emergency Room.

Along the way, mom, dad, and sister all arrived so we were soon all together.  What followed were blood work (not fun for the little ones), x-rays, medical exams, and constant monitoring.

After four hours of observation and no symptoms, the adults were discharged.  The children, however, were transferred to East Tennessee Children's Hospital where they spent the night and went home the next day.  All OK.

I'm sure that over the next few weeks, we will hear stories of people going out of their way to help each other.  That's the kind of community we live in. 

But from my point of view--from someone who was inside the beast-- here's the bottom line:  Our hospital (my hospital) did awesome.  They were ready.  They were efficient.  They were compassionate. 

There's a nurse named Wayne there that my family will always be beholden to.

Children's Hospital did great too.  Though not at the epicenter of the disaster, they were also prepared and efficient and compassionate.

At the end of the day, we should all be glad to know that our health care system works.

Even in the face of a catastrophic event like this.

And that's a good feeling. 

Camp Blackberry 2015

Camp Blackberry is over. Unless you know my family really well, you probably didn't know.  More than likely, it wasn't on your radar.

Oh, what is Camp Blackberry?  It's a summer camp that my wife and I do for our grandchildren.  The name?  We raise blackberries and our last name is Black so...Camp Blackberry...get it?

Well, not all our grandchildren get to come.  The youngest (age 2) gets to stay home.  We did one with a 2 year old and declared then and there that 3 was the minimum age.  Since this one is the wild child, we may make an exception and change the minimum age to 4.  The jury is still out.

We get them for a week.  24/7.  Good times and bad.  Five of them this year, for the record.  We got the idea from Dr. Bob and Sue Ramger, who did the same for their grandkids.

The week is filled with art and crafts and field trips and lots of pool time.  Just like "real" camp.

We eat together, stay together, and laugh together (and once or twice cried together--well, at least the adults did).  We tried camping once a couple of years ago but it didn't work.

This week, we hiked up the Porter Creek Trail to the old Appalachian Hiking Club cabin.  The kids were particularly impressed with the spring house.  And that real water came out of it.

We visited the Knoxville Zoo and thanks to Phil Colclough, Director of Animal Collections and Conservation (and a Maryville resident), got a personal visit with Al, the giant tortoise.

We visited with Ms. Sherry at Liles Organic Farm where we got up close and personal with her llamas, goats, rabbits, and chickens.  If you don't know about Liles Farm, you've missed a gem that is found just outside the Maryville City limits on Tuckaleechee Pike.

We did the touristy thing in a visit to Dixie Stampede.  It's pretty amazing what those horses can do and the kids love it (even the part about eating everything with their hands).

Along the way, the youngest one went from a wall hugger to jumping into the deep end of the pool and swimming all the way across...by herself!

And I've got a photo of one grandchild standing alone on the top of a rock spire about eight feet off the ground.  I thought mama might be bothered but she was thrilled with the balance and bravery it took.   

So what's the point?  There are several, actually.

First, family is everything.  This time together builds bonds and memories that will last a lifetime.

Second, active children become active adults.  Swimming, hiking, swimming, disc golf, more swimming.  Climbing, running, jumping.  Something every day.

Third, children exposed to art and music do better in school, appreciate diversity, and become more well-rounded.

At the end of the day, there is a huge need to just have fun, sing silly songs, and be yourself with the acceptance that probably can only come from grandparents.

And when Blackberries (what we call the campers) tell their parents that they were sad that it was over, then it was a success.