Imposter Syndrome

By internet definition: is the often-paralyzing sensation of guilt.

The sufferer doubts their skills, talents, or accomplishments on the perceived basis that they are fraudulent in their accolades. Despite legitimate competence and hard evidence of their qualifications, the imposter syndromer is fraught with fear of being “found out”.  The core of the disease is the irrational fear that the professional they portray themselves to be is more or less “faking it”.

I can speak on this topic with some sense of understanding as I was riddled with the disease two years ago.  Picture this: you’re a 25-year-old graduate from a doctoral program.  You’ve spent the last 3 years of your life fastidiously preparing to enter the medical world as a sharp, clinically sound physical therapist.  You pass the boards exams, walk across the stage, shake the dean’s hand, smile for the camera.  You blink twice and you’re set for your first Monday as a full-time staff physical therapist. 8 patients on your schedule.  Suddenly the concept of grown adults showing up to the clinic, in pain, and expecting you to not only have answers but also a plan to fix them is absurd.

You can’t do this. Are you kidding me? Each and every patient is medically complex, psychologically different, and carries with them their own unique injury story that they fully expect you to absorb and subsequently fix forever. That’s tough.

I remember getting my very first evaluation on the schedule. A 21-year-old college student with elbow pain from playing too much disc golf.  That afternoon I spent silently praying he wouldn’t show up. Although I was qualified and equipped with the mental faculties to see this individual, I had convinced myself I just did not have what it took.

Much to my dismay… he did show up. And he did get better. And as the years went on, I learned to embrace my insecurities and surprised myself weekly with my ability to bend alongside unusual, unforeseen circumstances.  Often, I would spend an extra hour digging deeper into research to better prepare myself for the patient’s ahead. Gradually, this self-inflicted syndrome subsided as I gained more ground. Until I left my comfort zone, yet again.

This time it was different. And the length of time at which I allowed myself to suffer as an imposter – much shorter.  Let me explain.

After leaving the corporate physical therapy world and stepping front and center onto my own stage, the fear of “faking it” overwhelmed me. Rehab With Roni was a one woman show, and the only way it was bound to succeed (or fail) was through Roni herself. That fact, combined with the ever-lingering sensation that I was still too young and inexperienced to really have a grasp at this whole physical therapy thing, took a punch at my ego.  How could I honestly expect a patient, with direct access to my clinical services, to pay a premium price for this one-on-one time when they could just mosey on down the street to the next cookie cutter PT clinic and swipe their card for twenty bucks a pop? Who was I to think I could operate my own private practice and people would walk through the door and opt for me to treat them versus someone else?

But then I promptly remembered where I came from. I came from a clinical setting where I was required to do what I was already doing in my own practice, but multiplied threefold. I was expected to evaluate a new patient in an hour, see two patients immediately following that, then three at once the hour after that. All while rolling with the punches and changes in each individual’s symptoms as they came. All while maintaining timely documentation and meeting expectations regarding patient outcomes and satisfaction. It dawned on me that if I can manage that kind of caseload and environment, I can tackle operating my own 1:1 physical therapy assessment with grace and ease.

In retrospect, it almost seems comical that I felt fearful of one-on-one, direct patient care with little time constraints.  Ask any physical therapist – that’s the dream. Does it put my personal reputation on the line a little more? Surely. Does it allow me, as a clinician, the time and space to optimally assess functional limitations, recognize patterns, and diagnose patients with higher specificity? Also yes. Now I possess the bandwidth to sit with the patient in front of me and be present. I don’t focus on the clock time – just the human being in front of me. And to the best of my ability, I strive to be of benefit to them. And you know what? So far so good.

So in conclusion, learn to quiet the voice of the imposter.  There’s a good chance you belong right where you are and you’re doing the world a whole lot of good.

Thanks for reading :) if you want to read my first introduction post from last week, here it is:

https://www.rehabwithroni.com/newsletter/thanks-for-being-here