why i’m proud to be an OT

With each day that I learn more about occupational therapy, the more proud I am to be on the road to becoming an OT.

This pride really became apparent to me last Friday.  Our class had just finished listening to a 90 minute medical lecture, given by the heads of Psychiatry and Occupational Therapy at our university’s hospital.  They flew through the neurological implications of conditions such as schizophrenia, major depression, and bipolar disorder.  It wasn’t the first time our class has learned the details of those disorders, so we have become fairly well acquainted with them by now.  Throughout the lecture, these men addressed ways in which OT’s could intervene with people experiencing mental health disorders such as these.  It was a fantastic lecture, but as soon as I walked out of the classroom, I had to shift my thoughts to my upcoming midterms I needed to study for and paper I needed to write, all for my physical disabilities class.

That’s when it hit me.

I just sat through a medical lecture about these intense mental health disorders.  Given by the doctor who is the head of the psychiatric unit at University Hospital.  And I totally kept up.  And now I’m gonna go study for Physical Disabilities. Those things are so different. OT’s can do anything!

And it’s true.  No two occupational therapists are really alike.  We are so diverse!

While one OT may be working with a premature infant in the NICU, training its reflexes so that it can learn how to use the suck-swallow-breathe pattern that it was supposed to have at birth so that it can begin feeding through its mouth, another OT may be working with an 85-year-old woman who has experienced a decline in her independence due to injury or aging, teaching her how to use some adaptive equipment or how to modify her home environment so that she can regain her independence.

While one OT may be teaching a teenage boy with a spinal cord injury how to navigate in his wheelchair, care for himself independently or participate in things that are important to him, another OT may be helping a homeless man learn what technical and social skills he needs in order to get back into stable housing and a job.

While one OT may be helping a woman who had a stroke, teaching her how to care for herself and participate in activities she enjoys, another OT may be working with someone who is struggling with schizophrenia, offering them strategies for increasing their quality of life despite their difficulties.

While one OT may be playing with a boy with autism, teaching him to interact socially with other children or how to manage his behavior when he gets upset, another OT may be teaching a girl with cerebral palsy how to ride a horse, knowing that horseback riding can help improve her trunk alignment and strength, thus contributing to improvement in her hand skills so that she can do things like feed or dress herself.

And those are just a few examples.

I am so proud to be an OT.  We are creative.  We are smart.  We are powerful.  We care about improving people’s quality of life, which means more than just working to improve their physical condition.

What we do matters.  We are unique in what we offer and, yet, we are not pigeon-holed by it.

When we say that we help people “live life to the fullest”, we accept the fact that people’s “disabilities” affect more than just their body.  Physical and mental disabilities impact every aspect of a person’s life.  And we, as occupational therapists, get to look at the person as a whole and say, How we can improve this person’s quality of life? What’s going on in their body, brain, environment, and social life that will impact their everyday living?  What do they want to get back to doing that they can’t do now?  What’s important to them?  How will this disability affect the way they feel about themselves as a person…or how other people feel about them?

And after we ask those questions, we get to work.

I don’t know any other profession that operates like ours.

And that’s why I’m proud to be an occupational therapist.

Fieldwork

This week I finished my first round of Level I occupational therapy fieldwork in pediatrics.  In two weeks, I start my next round, this time, in a psychiatric inpatient setting.

Here’s a description.

The Psychiatric Inpatient Program provides intensive psychiatric care to voluntary adult patients with acute psychiatric disorders, such as major depression, bipolar illness or schizophrenia. Patients are immersed in intensive daily treatment, with the goal of returning them to the familiar surroundings of home as quickly as possible. Therapeutic activities focus on issues of self awareness, family matters, social skills and personal problem solving.

Quite a contrast from playing with kids on swings and tricycles.  Looking forward to it!

To Save a Life.

Two summers ago, my husband and I got to take part in the experience of a lifetime – making a full-length feature film.  Now, I don’t want to make it sound like we had any sort of responsibility in the matter.  The screenplay was written by Brian’s boss, Jim Britts (who was a screenwriting major in college and is now the Youth Pastor at New Song Community Church in Oceanside, CA).  This was his vision.  And the movie was gruelingly given life by many many volunteers from Oceanside and professional actors with hearts of gold.   Brian and I just hung around the set and served as extras during various scenes throughout the filming process (including us being one of the “make out” couples for the filming of a high school party scene – ohhh yeahhh, haha).

The movie is called To Save a Life.  It’s an indie style movie that adresses the real issues that teenagers face.  Things like suicide, self-inflicted injury, and popularity.  Check out the trailer below.

You can learn more about To Save a Life by visiting its website at http://www.tosavealifemovie.com/.

If you are a person who works with youth, you can visit http://www.tosavealifeleaders.com/ for more information on how this movie can be used to make a positive change in the lives of teenagers everywhere.

Coming to theaters January 22, 2010.  Spread the word!

Allelous Video

As a follow up to my recent post about Allelous, the Intentional Community that Brian and I live in, here is a fantastic video about our community, made by our very own James Tedford.  Thanks for sharing your skills and passion, James!

It feels like camp. Except it’s all the time.

It’s seven o’clock.  The dinner cowbell has been rung, and people have slowly begun to emerge through their front doors from the comfort of their apartments.  Some drag their feet.  Some quicken their pace.  A few minutes later, 20 or 30 of us have gathered together downstairs in the Common House, ready to fill our bellies with a good home cooked meal.  Tonight’s Cook Team has been preparing this meal for nearly an hour and a half.  During that time, they shared stories from their day, likely laughing about crazy professors and classmates and shedding tears while peeling and chopping – I don’t know –  at least 20 onions?  Freaking onions.  For those who cannot make it to tonight’s meal, the Cook Team will have prepared a tupperware dinner that awaits them in the Common Refrigerator when they arrive home later tonight.

The living room of the Common House is filled with community members and the tantalizing smell of delicious food.  Announcements and prayer requests are shared, grace is said, and food is dished up.   If eating outside, I am reminded of the scene from the movie “Hook,” where all the Lost Boys sit at what looks like a very long picnic table while they eat their imaginary food.  Except our food is real.  And it’s good.  If eating inside, I can look around the Common House and see several tables of four to six people engaging in lively conversation as they consume nutrition for their physical, emotional, and spiritual needs.  It’s my favorite time of the day.

As dinner comes to a close, tonight’s Cook Team transforms into the Clean Team.  They begin to cruise around the tables, collecting plates and glasses of people who have finished their meals, and sorting through the food that will be good for the compost outside.  The sink turns on, the industrial-sized dish soap comes out, and the scrubbing and drying begin.  By the time the night is over, the room has emptied, the dishes have been washed and put away, the floor has been mopped, and the carpet has been vacuumed.

This happens four nights a week, Monday through Thursday.

And if that weren’t camp-like enough, sometimes after dinner we’ll just sit around and talk in the courtyard that looks like it belongs to the camp of The Others on the set of the TV show LOST.  Or maybe we’ll go over to someone’s apartment for dessert.  Or wine.  Or  TV.  Or maybe a movie.  Or all of the above.

And then, when it’s time to go to school in the morning, some people carpool to campus together.  Others bike together.  Others walk together.

On campus, you are likely to see faces that are familiar from our community.  I don’t even attend Fuller Seminary, and even I can walk through the library and bump into a few friends from the community each time I’m there.

In a season of life where schedules are jam-packed and patience wears thin, this community is an oasis.

It’s called “Allelous“, a Greek term meaning “one another.”  And that’s what we are.  We’re a group of people who want to be intentional about caring for and being with one another.  An “Intentional Community.”  Nobody had to convince us it was a good idea.  We all volunteered to be here.  We made promises to one another that we would be committed to the good of the community.  But it’s not work.  And it’s not forced.  Because it’s the way we want to live.

I can’t imagine ever going back to living like we did before we discovered the joys of living in community.  The apartment experiences where you don’t know your neighbors and you don’t really even notice when they move out except for the fact that some new unidentified neighbors have moved in, seem like so long ago.

I love that it feels like camp.  I love that it feels like camp because, whenever I went to camp, I always felt like life was full of possibilities and that the future held so much in store.  Camp was a time of energy and exploration and honesty.  It was a time where existing relationships were nurtured, and new ones were fostered.  It was a time where, just for those few days of being on that mountain or in those woods or on that lake, life felt like everything was going to be okay.

And that’s why I love my Allelous community.  Because they remind me that, no matter what happens during the day, we have each other’s backs, and everything is going to be okay.  All the time.

invisible children’s new MEND program.

Invisible Children has done it again.  I love this idea.  And I hope you do too.  For more information on Invisible Children, visit www.invisiblechildren.com.

Tyler Genest: Life with Spina Bifida

I plan on writing about this topic a bit more extensively on my Occupational Therapy blog in the coming days, but I wanted to share this video with you that we were shown in our Medical Lectures class today. 

This is the story of Tyler Genest, a 20-year-old man who lives in Hawaii and was born with Spina Bifida.  He explains the basics of this congenital spine condition in the short documentary, and you can find more of his story and his e-mail address on YouTube.

What do you think?

all the single babies.

Because I just can’t resist.

p.s., the best part starts at 38 seconds…kid’s got some moves!

Fieldwork

Today I officially broke ground as an occupational therapy fieldwork student.  I got placed in pediatrics, which made the transition from educational to clinical much less daunting seeing as I’ve spent the last two years teaching kids’ therapy classes at a pediatric clinic.  Been there, done that.

But something funny happened today.

With each kid I observed today, I saw a kid that I’d worked with before – before I moved here – and all the behaviors that went along with it.  The bad: the biting, the scratching, the hitting, the stubbornness, the throwing of chairs and of self.  The good: the jokes, the drawings, the games, the laughs, the smiles, and the trust.  I’ve seen it all before.  And every time I saw one of those behaviors occur, I was picturing particular children with whom I’ve experienced those same moments.

Surreal.

Back in the Game

After a full three and a half months of being without a job and, more importantly, being without small children to teach, I am finally back in the game.

This past Monday marked the beginning of my employment at a gymnastics center in Pasadena called Club Champion.  There I am teaching just four classes per week for little ones between the ages of one to four years old.

I LOVE it.

I can’t imagine my life without kids.  I thought maybe I used to say that because I was just always around them, and I literally could not imagine my life without them because they were ALWAYS THERE.  At least a hundred of them per week.  Never ending.  But no, it’s not simply because I could never get away from them.  Kids complete me.  I have found that, when I’m with kids, they bring out the best in me like nothing else can.  I love ‘em.

So even though I’m a little nervous because these particular Pasadena kids are still new to me, I am so grateful to be in their lives.  More stories to come, I’m sure.