{V.ision} Eyes on the Horizon

“Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim”

Tyler Knott Gregson

I kept my head down as I felt the tears welling into my eyes. Oh come on, keep it together. It’s not worth letting them see you cry. As I finished my first “real” posterior diaphragm release on a patient, tears dripped off my cheeks and onto the patient’s back. God, I hope she didn’t feel that. I nudged my face on my shoulder and refused to look my clinical instructor. I was beyond frustration as I attempted a technique I had learned about an hour ago on a particularly peeved patient; by attempted I mean performed it terribly. My hands were supposed to sweep smoothly across her skin – I caught and slipped along her back, imagining how incompetent it probably felt to the patient. I took my hands off her with a frustrated sigh, only to be scolded brusquely by my clinical instructor in front of the patient and her impatient, angry husband and told to do it again.

It was my fifth week of a six week rotation at a rehabilitation center; I woke up at 5am every morning to work out, drive an hour there, work 9-10 hours, drive an hour home, and do it all again the next day – without pay. My clinical instructor was a curt but experienced physical therapist who had no patience for incompetency or “good-enough.” Every minute I was there was spent learning, practicing, or writing documentation, except when I snuck off to the bathroom or shoved down some food as quickly as possible. I was exhausted, exasperated, and questioning my career path.

When I look back at that day and that clinical experience I still get knots in my stomach. I remember how miserable I was; not only because of the hours and the grueling demands, but at my anxiety of believing I had wasted time and money pursuing a career I wasn’t sure I wanted any more. I thought of the application process, the long weekend days spent studying anatomy and biomechanics, the extra hours I spent after lab practicing manual techniques. I remember crying to my boyfriend and my mother, and received some of the best advice.

When I told my boyfriend I wanted to quit PT school, he simply said “Okay, but don’t quit until tomorrow.” I remember thinking, ha, okay.

But when I woke up the next morning, I didn’t want to quit – I didn’t want to be beaten.

I remembered what I loved about physical therapy and how freaking awesome it was to learn new things and ace new techniques. I started the day recharged – the idea of quitting was a distant memory.

My mother shared equally helpful advice. I wish I could be as eloquent as she, but I will settle with a summary – don’t let this one shitty clinical rotation ruin everything you have worked for. Remember why you chose this career path and always keep that vision of your future with you.

Those pieces of advice sustained me for the duration of that clinical. Whenever I got reprimanded for doing something wrong or embarrassed in front of a patient as I stumbled through the appointment, I reminded myself of my vision – where I wanted to go and how I would use this experience to enhance that vision. When the thought of walking out of that clinic popped into my brain over and over, I told myself quit tomorrow. Each day became a challenge and a learning experience – it became about what I wanted to get out of this day, not what I though my clinical instructor wanted or what I thought would get me the most praise. Maybe it was perfecting a technique or correctly answering questions, or maybe it was having the strength to say “I don’t know but this is what I think,” or the strength to think “Screw it, this doesn’t have to be perfect.” As I approached the days with a new mindset, my vision became clearer and more real.

The last day I was at the clinic, my instructor told me one last thing: “Don’t pursue perfection; pursue excellence. You are too hard on yourself -- you need to remember the process, not the outcome.”

For the first time in six weeks, my instructor spoke deeply to me about my internal struggle. He had seen it the whole time, but didn’t stop pushing me – he wanted me to overcome this need for perfection and see the process through a different lens.

I love the quote I put in the beginning of this post because it embodies this journey. I let the daily struggles and frustrations of my clinical rotation take over my vision and my love for what I am pursuing. It took the insight of some of the closest people to keep me from what felt like drowning and losing my sight on something beautiful. I ask that, whatever plagues your life or makes you feel inadequate, remember why you are in that position and what passion took you there. Or, if you are in a transitory but necessary place in your life, remember that vision – it may keep you afloat in turbulent times.

Guest blogger, Hannah Lyons , is a Doctoral candidate in Physical Therapy. Hannah is a CrossFit enthusiast, avid hiker, animal lover and accomplised healthy baker.