The emotional toll of being an emphatic health care provider.

My day didn't start well from the beginning. I got an upsetting email from a therapist I don't respect. I don't respect him because he is another traveling therapist and in my one and only conversation with him he said "There is no loyalty with traveling therapists, we aren't good people, we only do it for the money". It made me sick. It made me want to reach through my cellular device and take his PT license and then sucker punch him in the face. I don't do this for the money (though I am grateful for the 'raise'). I am a therapist to improve people's lives. I travel because adventure and travel are the deepest desires of my heart, and I have been blessed enough, and worked hard enough, to combine these two passions.

But back to the email... it is in a reference to one of his patient's I will be seeing. The patient is a survivor of a massive stroke, who was working full time prior to the stroke and has much of his life ahead of him. The therapist wrote: "He doesn't understand that his left upper extremity function will not improve". WRONG. It was improving, it can continue to improve and how dare you smash this man's hope?!?! He survived a stroke, is tough as nails (he literally built his entire house himself, nail by nail, zero outside help) and there is no reason he can't continue to improve.

Next, I find out one of my patients has requested another therapist. Ouch. I think it's the third time in my career I have gotten this request so directly.  She is angry I had her walk outside last week. I had her walk outside because on one Day 1 of therapy,  her daughter made it quite clear they all wanted her to be able to walk in the yard again. I tucked that little nugget of information in my brain, and once this woman was strong enough to give it a go, we did, and it was glorious (or so I thought...). I also don't speak fantastic Spanish, and although she speaks fluent English, this frustrates her to no end. Well, my dear patient.... I drive over 50 miles to treat you & help you get better, I will always give 100% of what I've got, and I am the ONLY therapist in your city, so take it or leave it.

My next patient's spouse hands me a card. It is one of those hand written notes that brings tears to my eyes and yet makes me wonder how I can touch one life so positively and yet the above patient wants me out her life forever. Here is the card, so I may never forget it:

After working 9 hours already and driving a total of 193 miles today, I arrive at my last patient's house. I have never met this woman or her husband before in my life. As I am trying to leave and get home to my dog, my couch and my sanity, her husband stops me and starts showing me his medals and pictures from WWII. The least I can do for this man who served our country is sit for 5 minutes and go over some memories with him. Things took a drastic and horrifying turn when the pictures were suddenly of dead bodies and men he had killed during war. I have NEVER been so caught off guard and speechless. I couldn't turn away, not even when he began to tell me how they killed the men. WTF, sir, WTF. 

I can't even stomach going duck hunting because it breaks my heart and makes me too sad. Those images are now engraved in my memory and I'm praying they don't appear as night terrors. 

So there we go. 10 hours, 200 miles and a day that I couldn't be more happy to bid adieu to. 

I am tired, I am sad, I am frustrated, I am angry... yet I sit here holding that hand written card to remind me why I do this, day in and day out. 

Please love on your healthcare workers, it isn't an easy job, and most of us really don't do it for the money (which goes straight to pay off our student loans anyhow). 

xo