November 2023 Still Point

Submitted by: LMU-DCOM Knoxville

Author: Christina Trickett

Title: Listening to the Body

In life, listening is a skill. As a youngster innocently moving through life, you listen to your parents because you must, they are in charge. When it comes to what a child wants, they are often headstrong and not fully aware of life outside of their bubble. This tends to continue into adulthood, and there are too few that will listen to the needs of others. I, of course, would listen to my parents, but as I matured, I started to listen and learn from coaches and my immediate environment. As an athlete, my journey of being a “coachable” player was something that I strove for, which involved more active listening. I was taught a skill, tactic, or mental exercise by a coach. I internalized that and devoted countless hours to the sport of soccer, no matter what my coaches asked of me. It led me to achieve great feats on various levels.

However, my journey was not always smooth sailing. I faced numerous injuries, which meant time away from the one thing that gave me my identity. The small injuries that I would acquire in high school helped kickstart an alternate perspective of my passion. It taught me how to better listen to my teammates. It also gradually showed me that I was not listening to my own body. I would push through pain to play, and it would inevitably lead to more time on the injured list due to worsening the initial trauma. Often, coaches would demand and even push an athlete’s body beyond its capacity, which can be detrimental both short- and long-term.

It was not until college that I finally decided to listen to my own body and what it was telling me. I started out pushing myself which led me to become full of frustration and hindered my ability on the pitch. Once I realized I could not perform at my best, I sought further medical help. I tried to alleviate the pain with rehab, stretching, foam rolling, countless MRI’s and so many other methods. Doctors told me that it was Osgood Schlatter’s at first, so my treatment plan was curated based on that diagnosis. The medical staff and I followed that plan for months. There seemed to be no pain, so I tried to return to the pitch. Immediately the pain resumed. Since there was no improvement, we sought out another physician who decided that the fat pad behind my patella tendon was inflamed and causing the pain. After the arthroscopic surgery to remove it, the pain persisted, and seemed to get worse. With the problem declining for one year and no improvement in pain, doctors decided that my patella tendon was simply inflamed. Their treatment course was management of pain. I was not being listened to, yet I was the patient in pain on a constant basis. I was listening to my body, but I was the only one.

It was not until I went to see an osteopathic orthopedic surgeon that I finally felt like someone else was listening. He decided to do laparoscopic surgery to see what was going on, and he discovered my patella tendon was tearing from the tibia. He was able to clean and fix the tendon. After that, I was back to normal high-intensity function after seven months. The feeling of being listened to, when you have been in months of excruciating pain, was clarifying and refreshing.

That interaction stuck with me, and when I decided to pursue medicine, I looked closer into osteopathic medicine based on the simple fact that my doctor truly listened to me. It has shaped who I want to be not only as a physician, but also a person. Through the teachings of osteopathy, I have learned further how to use feeling and other senses to listen, alongside my ears. Utilizing the skill of listening to what people and their bodies say is how osteopathic physicians are trained. I wanted to be just like them.