Have you experienced it yet? That sinking feeling when you get back from CSM.

While I am at CSM I always feel so invigorated and excited about PT. Then you get back to the day to day grind of PT and all that passion and positivity seems to fade away. At least that is how I used to feel.

Why do we feel so good when we are there but that feeling never lasts as long as we would like?

I first thought it was because we were learning new things. It has been said that those who are continually learning have much more career happiness. But that can’t be all there is to it. If that were the case, watching online continuing education courses would be enough. Don't get me wrong, I get a lot out of online continuing education like MedBridge, but it does not fulfill one of our deepest needs --- community.

We were meant to be in community. We were not meant to do this PT career thing alone. What we do as PTs is hard. It is emotionally draining to listen to people tell you about all their...

I think the experience of stepping outside my comfort zone in my career can be best compared to riding the H2-Oh-No slide at the waterpark as a child.  If the H2-Oh-No slide doesn’t ring a bell, I’m sure it will. It is the highest slide at the waterpark that drops straight down. If you ever went to a waterpark as a kid, you can picture it… and if not here is a picture (also it looks scarier in person, I promise):

So here’s a play by play of what it is like to experience the H2-Oh-No.  You start talking about going on it for the first time with your friends (it took you an entire year longer to reach the minimum height requirement so they’ve all done it before). 

But, you’re excited. You’re feeling so brave and you know that this is the year. THIS is your time to face your fears and drop 1000 ft at 100 mph (it's not that high or that fast, but that’s what it feels like).

The excitement is palpable.  You take the...

I hesitate to even write this post. I am afraid it will be taken as boastful. I am also afraid that people won’t want to hear the point of the post. But I am going to do it anyway because I think this message is so essential for our careers. At least it was a turning point in mine.

It was 19 degrees with below zero windchill. Earlier in the day I had gotten windburn on my face from just walking around a bit. The kids and I were on the way home from basketball practice and there was a car pulled off the road with its hazards on. What a horrible night to be stranded!

So I rolled down my window and asked if they needed help -- a mom and her two kids had a flat tire. So I got out to help (they didn’t have gloves, coats and hats).

I didn’t do anything special. I just did what most people would have done. Interestingly enough, I hate working on cars. Even worse, I hate changing tires without the proper tools. Using the jack that comes with a car is an exercise in...

I was not a very good basketball player.  I could shoot, pass, and dribble pretty well though.  But, when I got the ball during the game and I was faced with those three options (shoot, pass, or dribble), I often panicked and chose the wrong one.  Fundamentals and skills were not the problem, confidence was.

Six feet behind the arc?  Seems like a good time to shoot.  My teammate is double teamed and I’m open?  I should definitely try to pass it to her. And my personal favorite, let me dribble into the corner until I’m surrounded by the other team.

I had almost forgotten that feeling of panic and uncertainty that came with playing basketball until I became a physical therapist.  Let me tell you, PT was way worse. I now had WAY more than 3 options when it came to clinical decision-making and the fundamentals and skills weren’t as good as I wanted.  My first three years as a PT were by far the most...

My days in a typical outpatient clinic have been over for some time, but I will never forget the feeling. It felt like my hundredth patient of the day with a rotator cuff repair, and as I stood holding his arm he started telling me about his cat. 

I struggled to listen to the small talk as I remembered all the notes I still hadn’t finished from earlier in the week. Worse yet, I had a week’s worth of notes to do. Did I really go to school that long for this?

This wasn’t the first time that I felt stuck with my day to day in clinic.  To cope with the frustration and disappointment I felt, I let my mind wander to one of my favorite daydreams.  Whenever the clinic started to feel unbearable, I would dream about going back to my lawn service business. Those summers cutting lawns were so great….

I was outside

I was physically active

When I cut the lawn, it never complained, it was never “worse” after I cut it

No one could talk to me...

I dropped my backpack and sunk into the couch. 

I had held it together all day and I was now moments away from a full blown pity party. I HATE talking about these moments, but the more people I talk to, the more I realize we all have them.  

I had finished an average day in the clinic.  A day that in isolation would not have seemed that bad.  But, it felt like it was my millionth average day in a row.  I was just going into work, treating patients, listening to their problems (many not even PT related), and going home absolutely exhausted.

The monotony and emotional fatigue started an unstoppable stream of thoughts. 

PT sucks. I hate work. I can’t listen to anymore patients.

I can’t listen to anymore complaints. Is it really THAT hard to do home exercises?

What about me, am I in the same place I was last year? Have I made ANY progress toward the career I want? Holy crap, I haven’t.

Seriously, is this all there is? Does an...

“How long have you been practicing?” she asked me.

“Almost 5 years,” I said, thinking nothing of it.

“Wow, I would have never expected it to be that long,” she quickly replied.

I went from relaxed to uneasy instantaneously.  Wow, five years is a long time.  Is she asking because I seem like a novice?  Am I still a novice? I guess I’m not as far as I should be or as far as I thought I would be.  She’s right, I should have accomplished more than this by now. What have I been doing for five years?  

I thought all of these things in the slight pause before she followed it up with, “You look like you’re 21.”

This patient encounter happened a while ago, but the uncertainty it caused stuck around for a while.  In fact, I’m not sure it ever left. I think its been there all along. Since PT school, I’ve wondered if I am enough and if I’m doing enough.  The doubts and...