A day in my life...

Today might have been one of the weirdest days of PT school ever. Here's my day.

Treating mock patient aka my teacher (actually we treated 3 of them today). Walk up to door. Oh look, he changed the plan, we are treating him at "home" not in "clinic" now. That would've been nice to know say....uh...anytime before we are walking in.

Walk in. Patient reports he's feeling nauseous. Lead therapist sits on a stool near him and begins to ask questions. Patient starts to sway and fall. Picture this. 6'2" 300lb man (aka teacher) falling off chair onto floor while 5'3" 115 lb woman tries to catch him by the arm. For the next 30 minutes I promise the only words that came out of her mouth were first "Help" then "Oh my goodness. Mr. Blatt. Oh my goodness." (in a southern accent none the less). I was supposed to be helping as her assistance. I tried to grab while he went down, but he was sitting between two tables and his arm was all we could get to. He's goin' down. I crawl over table. Patient is now sprawled out on floor. Lead therapist taking pulse, she keeps looking at me. How long do you wait before you call 911 when someone passes out on you? Hm....I think I missed that part of lecture. Oh wait, people can code on you while you are treating them? What? Shoot... What now? Class members recommend providing noxious stimulus, sternal rub (it hurts, just believe me). 1 minute later, we decide it's time to call 911. Patient still unresponsive. Other student, assistant therapist is "calling 911" on her "phone" aka. her hand. All the lead therapist can say is "Mr. Blatt. Oh my goodness."

Scenario over. Teacher awake. Oh look- someday you might have to do this in real life. Wow, I'm glad he faked passing out and not seizure (which I later found out that he considered doing) because if he would have faked a seizure we might have actually called 911. Good Morning! Welcome to class. And now...let's talk about your SPI. Yes, the dreaded SPI. If you are a recent follower of my life than you have missed previous stories about this biannual event in my program. Paid actors to be patients, cameras, teachers watching, reflecting. Joy. My heart's beating at least twice as fast as it should.

On to patient 2 aka. teacher 2. Open chart (he's supposed to be in the hospital). Oh look, I'm supposed to do a shoulder evaluation and treatment...hmmm...that's quite a bit different than the walking, transfers from sit to stand, and stairs that I was planning for my Parkinson's patient. All the sudden, I'm freaking out. "I don't remember how to do a shoulder eval! Guys, I can't do this, what am I supposed to do? I don't remember this". Oh yeah, that was last semester. I am supposed to know what to do when a patient tells me that their shoulder hurts....and here we go. Just fake it til you make it. It so works. About 2 minutes into the shoulder exam I suddenly remember that I have done this before. The last clinician I worked with this treated shoulders all the time. Right. I have done this. I can do this. And...now we're done with the shoulder on with my plan. Sit to stand transfers. Let's just say my patient aka. teacher, can't stand up alone at all. His knees give out. How do we work on this? I put a belt on him, stand in front of him with my knees directly in front of his, start to stand and use my knees to keep him from falling. This man is built. His arms are about as thick as my thigh and way more muscular. Turns out that in PT all personal boundaries are down.

Now imagine. Me, sitting in class, hours later. I don't sit well. There's a reason I chose PT and not something that will keep me at a desk all day. It's between 5:30-6pm. I want to go home. My favorite part of this class- they hand around prosthetics that we can look at/play with. I am quietly typing on my computer, doing some homework and "listening" to the lecture. Prosthetic hands are being passed around. Student next to me hands it to me. I grab. All the sudden the hand starts closing, grasping, pinching down...on my other hand. Oh shoot- this is the one that moves. It's activated by pressing a button on the inside...shoot, ouch...how does it work where is the button...man...the grasp on these things is hard, ouch...way harder than my own. Now I'm laughing so hard that the whole class is looking at me. Oops. Sorry, I just ya know...grabbed the hand and suddenly it was grabbing back.

15 minutes later. Laughter from the front of the room. "I'm sorry, I just hurt Sarah very badly". They're laughing so hard they are probably crying. turns out the hand grabbed her too.

Metro ride home: All the commuters glare as 4 women laugh the entire ride and keep repeating things like "I just grabbed it and it pinched me!" "I hurt her so bad" and "Oh my goodness Mr. Blatt". Yes, we are professionals. Don't you worry. I reviewed my emergency intervention "Annie are you ok, are you ok?" Call 911. I'm a professional. Right. I'm a professional. "Hello, my name is 'Dr. Schoonmaker'".

So, it might just be one of those things that you have to be there and know the people to think it's funny, but I don't think there has been another day quite like this.