Book-learning and practice tests are one thing; actually knowing what to do in a PT setting is another. I needed a way to get some hands-on review and training, but I couldn’t find courses by searching online that might serve my needs.
When I took the review course last February for the PT board exam, the instructor, Ed Kane, saw that I had graduated from the same program from which he had, at Duke, and we had a nice chat about people we both knew. He had just seen my favorite professor and mentor from Duke, Pam Duncan, the previous weekend at a conference in San Diego. That was a fun connection.
After the course concluded, I thought I’d ask him if he knew of any programs or courses that would help me get some amputee training. I approached him and thanked him for the excellent course, and he acknowledged me, then moved on to the next person. Darn. Opportunity lost. Or not… as I collected my things, I resolved to make myself approach him again with my question. I knew I had to put myself out there to get to Haiti, and as a shy person, that isn’t that easy for me to do. But I did go back and ask him.
He answered that he didn’t know of any courses, but “what you really need is a clinical experience.” As a retired Navy captain, he mentioned that he knew “everyone” at the PT department at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He told me to send him an email and he would get me hooked up.
Wow! That would be awesome! He had told the class that, because of advances in field trauma care, Combat Support Hospitals, and evacuation to the US Army and DOD-run Landsduhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, soldiers survive injuries today that would have killed them in earlier wars. Consequently, the military hospitals have the most advanced amputee centers in the U.S., and one of the major such hospitals is the Naval Medical Center in San Diego.
If I could do some hands-on work in a setting like that, it would be a great learning experience. Plus, I would have a chance to work with our injured soldiers, something that would be certain to be profound.
I did send Dr. Kane a message, and he did forward it to the then-chair of the PT department at NMCSD. About 10 days later I heard from her that she had forwarded my note to the new director, with an optimistic mention that she thought we could work out some hours for me. I didn’t hear any more for about a month and was about to write back when I heard from the director, asking me if I was “still interested” in an amputee clinical experience. I assured him that I was!
His message included a string of emails to various other people to see if they could accommodate me. It was humbling to see the communication that took place: questions about how to handle my unique non-student status, about medico-legal concerns, about what needs to happen from a volunteer standpoint in order for me to be there. They mentioned ideas about what experiences they could offer, such as prosthetics, gait lab, and even pediatrics.
Even the Director of Volunteer Services made special arrangements for me, guiding me to complete the volunteer requirements from afar and seeing me on my own for the orientation. The process for becoming a volunteer at a military facility was almost as complex as my application for PT licensure. I had to apply to the Armed Services YMCA, provide proof of a negative TB test, fill out a lengthy background check document, get fingerprinted, and finally get a photo ID badge from the office of the Military Police.
And now, here I am, in the midst of a cutting edge rehab department called Comprehensive Combat and Complex Casualty Care, or 5C PT for short, observing and helping hardworking soldiers overcome devastating injuries, a process that they are enduring for their country, for us, for me.
I am here because of the generosity of many people willing to help me get ready to help people in Haiti, but ultimately I am here for one remarkably simple reason: because I asked.
