I am writing this post, and those hereafter, from a very
different place. Well, at least geographically speaking. My physical being is
now stateside, but I’m afraid that large portions of my heart and mind are still
lingering on the other side of the globe. Last Friday marked the one month
anniversary of my return to Washington. I could try to explain why it has taken
me over a month to finish out this blog, but frankly, the details are not
really that important. What you need to know is that 1.) come hell or high
water I will be completing this blog, 2.) it may take me a while and a few
posts.
The last six weeks of my fieldwork posting in India, were
spent at the Rehabilitation Institute at CMC. This facility is located across
from the CMC College Campus at Bagayam. My commute to work every morning was a
simple ten minute walk that I generally took with Charlie. The two of us would
stumble through the rehab campus turnstile at around 7:55am every morning and
quickly discuss whether or not we were to meet in the chapel, library, or the
separate gyms. You see, to us it seemed that nearly every morning started in a
little different way and we were never quite sure what day started in which way.
Monday morning the whole rehab staff would meet in the chapel for prayer and
devotions followed by a lecture in the library. The order was reversed on
Fridays, and every other day of the week was devotions at 8am in our respective
gyms. However, this schedule seemed to change on us without warning. Either
that or we were just never awake enough to figure out the schedule by the time
we arrived on campus.
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The entrance to the Rehabilitation Institute. A virtual tour will be given in a subsequent post. |
After devotions, or the lecture depending on the day, I
would traipse on up to the first floor OT gym where I had been assigned a position
working with patients with spinal cord injuries. Our early morning patients
were generally getting ready for therapy by the time we made it to the gym. I
would seek out my patients and note their progress, while stopping to exchange
greetings with other patients who had become more than just familiar faces to
me. For the next two hours or so, or until the ten o’clock tea break, I would
engage my patients in as many activities I could conjure up to help them gain
independence in their lives. Sometimes I would be out hunting down a car to
practice car transfers with, other times I would be found covertly sticking
tiny little beads into play dough for my patients to dig out for increased fine
motor function. Or, sometimes I would duck out to scavenge cheap, random items
to MacGyver a patient’s wheelchair into a safe and effective mode of
transportation. Every day was different, and in every day the mundane was somehow
transformed into the monumental.
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My Patient Zero practicing upper body dressing with a button hook and epic levels of determination. Don't mind the spoon. I generally don't involve eating utensils in my clothing donning/doffing sessions! |
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Patient Zero out on a little morning adventure to increase wheelchair mobility over various surfaces. |
At ten o’clock the patients would file out and shop would
close up while at the therapists rendezvoused at the rehab canteen. Because I
was often too lazy to rise early enough for breakfast, I was generally famished
by this time and eager for a hot dosai and tea. If luck was on my side (or
perhaps if it wasn’t???), I would also be fed a bull’s eye, half-cooked omelet-
Sunil style, or some other random morsel. Or all of the above. Out of
politeness I never argued, but let’s just say that sometimes I left the
half-hour tea break wondering if I would ever need to eat again.
The next two hours would be spent much like the first two
hours of the rehab day, only this time with the second set of patients. While the
early session patients were in occupational therapy in the mornings, their
counterpart had been hiding out with the physios. After the tea break the
groups switched places. Bottom line: all patients at rehab received six and a
half hours of therapy a day, either with OT or physio. At twelve thirty we
would send our patients back to their rooms for lunch and a rest while we
ourselves found food and rested. The lunch break was from twelve thirty to two-
enough time to run down to our favorite juice shop for a cool drink (or three)
and catch up on emails or finish other work/research.
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Shaving coconuts! One of my late morning patients (C6 SCI) working on handling an adapted straight razor prior to using it on his face. |
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Once he cleanly shaved the coconut, we went on to shaving a balloon. If he could shave the balloon without popping it he could then move on to shaving his face. His determination for perfection was incredible. I have many lessons to learn from this man. |
The afternoon is where things started to get tricky. If I
haven’t confused you yet, just hold on… I’m about to tie your brain in a knot. Monday
afternoons, from two to four-thirty, PMR 1 patients had rounds. This meant that
the PMR 1 therapists and patients would meet in the recreation hall and discuss
patient progress, complications, etc. with the whole PMR 1 medical team
(doctors, nurses, social workers, therapists, etc.). While PMR 1 patients were
in rounds, the PMR 2 patients would be in therapy, either OT or physio
depending on which session they had attended first that morning. If they had
been in OT first that morning, they would be found in OT that afternoon. On
Tuesdays and Wednesdays from two to four-thirty, all patients could be found
participating in the therapy session which they had first in the morning. On
Tuesday afternoons from three-thirty to four-thirty, everyone would break up
into totally different small groups based upon their injury and/or native
language for small group session activities. On Thursday and Friday afternoons
the patients would participate in the therapy session which they had attended
secondly that same morning. (Example: If a patient had OT from eight to ten and
physio from ten-thirty to twelve-thirty, then when they returned at two they
would go back to physio.) This was true of all patients… except for PMR 2
patients… on Fridays. On Fridays the PMR 2 patients had rounds at ten-thirty,
so their afternoon session would be whatever was supposed to be at ten-thirty
on a “non-round” day. Confused yet? One last thing, on Mondays as Fridays from
eight to nine in the morning there were classes held for PMR 1 and PMR 2
patients respectively. These classes were divided into traumatic brain injury
and spinal cord injury groups. And you wondered why Charlie and I never seemed
to know what was going on when we walked through the turnstile every morning…
The schedule took a few weeks to figure out. And just when we thought we had it
figured out, it would change on us. Or maybe we never really figured it out.
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The First Floor OT gym in full swing. |
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Patient Zero and Raja (his lead therapists) discussing treatment sessions for the day. Behind them is the schedule of who comes to the gym and is seen by which therapist at what time. I lived by this board in the beginning. |
Regardless of who was going where at what time, by
four-thirty I was generally ready to get off my feet and let my head settled
down a bit. This was often accomplished by wandering over to the canteen for a
cup of tea, or setting up my computer in the library to check email, research,
or write. Or both.
The Rehabilitation Institute operates on a perfectly
orchestrated schedule and regardless of whether or not I was able to figure it
out, I learn so much more than just how to manage a funky schedule. More on my lessons learned in the next post to be covered in my next
post.
It's not just you. Half the patients are discharged by the time they think they have the schedule figured out.
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