10 Lessons for 10 years of being a licensed Doctor of Physical Therapy

You can check out the video playlist of each of these for more in depth stories behind them here.

1) Our patients are people 1st - before someone is a patient or a condition, they are a person.

2) Every. Body's. Different - respect people's biology , anatomy and history as a person on this planet.

3) Ask better questions. Gather as many pieces of the puzzle as possible before taking a stab at helping someone or putting them through a gamut of tests and measurements.

4) An image tells a part of the puzzle. It's a snapshot of a person's condition at a single moment in time.

5) Our lifestyle plays a huge role in our body's condition, and certainly contributes to musculoskeletal conditions.

6) It's okay to be a real person with your patients. Play music. Dance. Cry with them. Show them you care about them. Accept the nice Christmas gifts they give you and show them gratitude for trusting you with their health.

7) The most dangerous tool in your kitchen is a dull knife. Know what you don't know clinically, and either go find it out or send that patient to someone who does.

8) Energy, time, attention, and effort (in addition to money) are all types of currency. I've worked in clinics where the PTs see 8 patients in an our, and 1 an hour. Every PT I know would work for free if we could support our own livelihoods that way. You may pay more money out of pocket, but if you value your energy, time, attention and effort, you will get more out of your providers when you pay more money.

9) There is not 1 thing that works for every body. If you find a provider who says 'this XYZ works for every patient', run the other direction. I'm so skeptical at every continuing education event I go to because they typically preach 'this will work for your patients on Monday AM'.

10) If you don't use it you lose it. Our body responds to the demand that we put on it. Respect that your body is capable, adaptable, and strong. And accept that your AGE is simply the number of years you've been given to accumulate repetitions.