We at Marymount University's Doctor of Physical Therapy, Class of 2020, have yet to experience a regularly scheduled week of classes this semester. Let me be clear, I don't need snow days. I don't even want snow days. Keep them away. I will happily speak for myself by saying "snow days are for the high school me to hope, dream, and yearn for." They are beneath me. Not only do I consider those "desires" a complete waste of time and energy (the decision of which being completely out of my control), but the achievement of a snow day is an absolute disruption to the flow, order, and momentum of my learning. I'm over it. Listen, I am not taking on loans of tens of thousands of dollars a semester to sit at home staring at a computer. That sweet, sweet money is going to making sure I stare at my computer 13.5 miles from home, you guys.
DC morning metro commute: metro center, maybe? |
So, seeing as we're not complaining, I'm gonna go ahead and kick the good vibes into gear by catching you up on things since we last chatted. CSM, baby! The American Physical Therapy Association's (APTA's) Combined Sections Meeting has happened. If I'm paying attention, this event should be called the "Combined Academies Meeting (CAM)" seeing as how "sections" are now adjusting to being termed "academies." And wouldn't you be charmed to hear that some of the Academies held their own awards ceremonies during the evenings of the
My experience was unlike anyone else's. I chose to make the best of it. I chose to go all three days. I chose to wake up at 5-something to attend a special interest group meeting hours before lectures started. I chose to make sure I went to as many lectures I wanted to be at and did not just follow classmates, or suggestions put in front of me. Some lectures were a touch out of my interests, but others expanded amazingly on concepts I have been introduced to in school in ways I could not have expected. There were definitely some talks that I went to that affirmed how I want nothing to do with that area of practice (and sometimes self-absorption), and that in itself is a valuable lesson learned. By the end of the weekend, I feel lucky that I was able to attend talks that uniquely spoke to me and how I hope to practice in the not too distant future.
See, this profession is not about me. This profession is about the people I will serve, hope to empower, and share what I learn with, along their path through life. From my own journey, I can only hope to emulate a cumulative fraction of those that have been generous enough to share their impactful, patient-focussed methods with me when I am with patients of my own. I just hope to remember: it's not about me.
I am not sure there is a better way I can conjure up a finish to this post, but I have been messing with the idea to leave you all with a "feature" that I have particularly enjoyed in the last few days since we last talked. I mean, you've made it this far, and lawd knows I appreciate it. So, here goes it for a first dive into a segment I will call: Here Ya Go
Here Ya Go: "A Little Respect" by Erasure - a gem of a duo out of England's mid/late-80s still making music that is more dynamic and powerful the so much of today's.
Thanks for reading.
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