#187 - JL

When I first started working as a PT, I was very young.  I was not married yet, and I had pretty much lived a sheltered life.  I had a patient early on who taught me some lessons.  He was a black man, in his mid-forties, with a mouth full of gold teeth.  He would come into therapy in a wheelchair.  He would never smile.  He wore black fingerless gloves and dark sunglasses.  I thought he was mean and scary.  I would always let one of the other therapists see him until one day he showed up when I was there manning the shop alone.  I took a deep breath, smiled my cheeriest smile, and approached him.  "What are you smiling at?" he barked.  I said nothing.  I just lifted one of his legs and started to stretch his hamstring muscles.  After a few minutes, I decided to start a conversation.  "How are you feeling today?"  I asked.  "How do you think I'm feeling?" he barked back.  And so it went...  Not a lot of progress that day nor the several visits after that I treated him.  But I'll give him one thing...he was consistent.  He always showed up for therapy and he always worked hard.  I'm not really sure at what point he started to trust me, but slowly and surely I won him over.  It's a funny thing when you are helpless and you have to rely on someone to help you.  When you are successful and make progress, you form a bond with each other.  His smiles came more often, he talked about himself and his injury, and he slowly learned to stand and even take a few steps.  Turns out he was injured fighting in Vietnam and the shrapnel that was lodged in his spine was causing slow paralysis.  He was a veteran, who had given a huge part of his life for our country, for our freedom.  He was not a gang member or a gang fight victim like I had labeled him in my head at first.  He came to therapy for a long time, but eventually got sicker and after many years of battling numerous medical complications, he passed away.

I will always be grateful to #187 for  #1 - reminding me not to judge a book by its cover, #2 - teaching me that it is hard for proud men to ask for help, #3 - the greatest reward in my profession is earning some one's trust by helping them.