Gen Xer Gets Hip to Physical Therapy

By Kristy Ton, SPT

A classic indecisive Gen Xer, I held several jobs without ever finding a career. It started in 1996, when I graduated from college. I’d struggled through school without direction, hoping my answers would come with the cap and gown—perhaps sewn inside? But that didn’t happen. I walked away with my pathetic grade-point average and bachelor’s degree in Animal Science and swore the next time I set foot in a college classroom it would be as a cadaver.

My parents—financiers of my college education—were thrilled, as you might imagine, that my first job title as a new graduate was dog-walker.

By my 30th birthday I was managing an animal hospital. My big “present” that year was a diagnosis of osteoarthritis in my right hip, caused by congenital hip dysplasia. Given my workplace, this news had the effect of adding insult to injury. You see, hip dysplasia is very common in large-breed dogs. Suffice to say, I was the butt of many (good-natured) jokes.

The diagnosis brought with it a prescription of 4 weeks of physical therapy. I knew little about the profession, so I had no expectations. But I immediately was impressed by the spirit I felt at the outpatient rehabilitation clinic. After years of visiting dour big-city hospitals, it was uplifting to find that every staff member in the gym had a smile on his or her face and a can-do attitude that spread to patients. I quickly was smiling, too, because the first thing my physical therapist did was ask me what I’d like to be called. This was great, because the only times I’m ever called “Kristen” are when my parents are letting me know I’m in trouble.

The PT proceeded to explain in detail how physical therapy could help increase my function and strength and alleviate my pain. Because she was so kind and communicative, I found myself asking “Why?” a lot. I was genuinely curious, for example, to know how standing on one foot with my eyes closed might help lessen my arthritis. Far from getting impatient, she smiled and calmly went over the purpose and utility of each exercise.

I loved every minute of my visit and couldn’t wait to come back. I was amazed at how 1 hour of physical therapy had completely transformed my mood. As I drove away, not even bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic could dampen my spirits.

Back home, I made a beeline for the computer and typed “physical therapy” into a search engine. I soon came upon APTA’s Web site and linked from there to the PT education programs in my neck of the woods. They all had different entrance requirements, and none of it looked easy. But for some crazy reason, I thought, “I’m going to do this.”

It took 3 years and 79 credit hours of coursework to raise the aforementioned pathetic GPA, but last Christmas Eve my day of reckoning arrived. I scanned the mail and noted a small envelope from the school on which I’d pinned my hopes. It didn’t look big enough to contain good news, but I held my breath and opened it. When my eyes fixed on the mystical, magical word accepted, tears flowed and my hands shook. I was standing on the precipice of the next and hardest stage of my belated career journey, but I was excited.

I still am. But here’s the thing: When this essay, which I’m writing in early spring, sees print in September I’ll have completed my initial, 7-week summer session and will be into my 15-week fall session. School will be extremely challenging and I know I’ll have my panicky moments. So, I’ve written this essay partly to remind myself, when I’m feeling the most scared, what I went through to get here and how much I want to become a PT.

Another reason I’m writing this is to encourage every PT who maybe is feeling a bit worn down by daily frustrations and the challenges of today’s health care environment to step back and see this wonderful profession through my eyes: as an amazing opportunity to heal, educate, and share compassion in an environment that’s personalized, hands-on, and full of positive energy.

I hope you’ll wish me luck as I push through my first year in school—embarking, at long last, on my career.
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Kristy Ton, SPT, is a student at Governors State University in University Park, Illinois.

_{PT Magazine - September 2008}