How Did I Get Here?

Hello there, James here – your favorite physical therapist.

Sometimes I ask myself: “how did I get here?” My 7th favorite General, General Jim Mattis, once said something to the effect that it’s paramount for great leaders to take time for introspection. How did I get to being a physical therapist? In Rapid City? In an outpatient clinic that is the smallest physical therapy clinic in the Black Hills – actually with a full-time staff of one, my clinic is probably tied for the smallest physical therapy clinic on the planet.

I had the patient experience once for sure. In 2003, I was wrestling a local legend named Colton Derr from Douglas, who shot a sweet single leg on my right leg. He had my right leg in his armpit and was trying to trip my left leg and gain a take down. I would have none of it. He tried to trip me and I jumped as high as I could. When my left leg came down onto the mat, my knee hyperextended, causing my ACL to give up on life. I laid on the mat motionless as I waited for the referee to slap the mat. I went on to have surgery here in the Black Hills and I did rehabilitation with Kathy Corbit in Hot Springs. Kathy believed in me and encouraged me when I didn’t think my knee would get any better. She even told me once: “I bet your left knee [the surgical knee] will be stronger than your right.”

I completed my rehab with Kathy and went on to have a solid high school career. After high school I was at a fork in the road where I thought: “where do I go from here?” I had scored a 17 on the ACTs and if I was going to go to college, my mom and dad made it known that I would be paying out of pocket. At 18 years old, I wanted to adventure and travel the world.

I opted for the option of what most high school graduates from Hot Springs, South Dakota choose – Naval Rescue Swimmer. I enlisted in the Navy and shipped off to Great Lakes. The major test to matriculate into Rescue Swimmer School is to pass a 5-minute water tread – without fins – while holding a brick over your head. The brick cannot get wet, or you fail. On the mornings of the brick tread test, I would make the solemn hike across base, get in the pool, and eventually go under the water’s surface with the brick. The instructors would say: “nice try, maybe this is career path isn’t for you.”

I had a buddy named Jose Brambilla. He was from San Diego and was training to be a Navy Seal. He slept just underneath me in the squad bay. I told him about my repeated failures and impending drop from the program. He said: “dude, you need to do a million flutter kicks, then you’ll pass the test.” Jose encouraged me to hammer a couple hundred flutter kicks each night well after the lights went out. I had one more attempt to pass the test. Either I pass and go on to Naval Rescue Swimmer School or I fail and fill whatever job the Navy wanted me to fill. I made the lonesome hike to the pool, got in the water, grabbed the brick and instructor started time. Five minutes passed and the brick was bone dry. I aced that test. I credit my success to my buddy who believed that I had the guts to accomplish the goal. He stayed up with me and hammered flutter kicks because I needed to put the work in. I owed 100% of my success to my pal Jose who believed in me.

Five years later, in February of 2011, I was tasked with servicing the main rotor head of a Navy Helicopter. In the shadow of Mount Fuji, I sat there that night pondering the major life choice I faced while juicing the main rotor head full of hydraulic fluid; the major life choice being what I might do when I discharged in July. In that moment, I reflected on the challenges I faced with my knee when I was in high school and how far I’d come with my knee – I was several weeks away from running the Tokyo Marathon – and how much the physical therapist impacted my life. I reflected on my buddy Jose and how much he had impacted my life by his subtle caring. I had also been dealing with a bout of Plantar Fasciitis during my marathon training that I found fascinating.

I got done servicing the rotor head, walked into the shop and told my direct supervisor that I was going to go to physical therapy school after my End of Active Service. He laughed and told me that he was familiar with the program as he had started out in undergraduate as a Pre-PT major before enlisting in the Navy. He informed me that a Doctorate degree was required, and I probably didn’t have the intellect to see the program through.

A couple days later, I was working on a bird that the Commanding Officer was going to be flying in. He was doing his pre-flight checks and said: “You are getting out soon, what do you think you’ll do?” I said: “Sir, I’m either going to go to Physical Therapy school or I am going to commission in the Marine Corps.” He said: “You would make a great Marine Officer, you’ve got guts. You’d also be a great Physical Therapist, you have the competence to do whatever you put your mind to.”

I applied and visited Black Hills State in the spring and planned on attending school there in the fall, taking the major of Exercise Science. The night before I was to get on a plane and fly back overseas to finish out my active-duty time, I did what all Sailors do: go to the bar and “drink to the foam”. At the bar that night I had met an Alumni, JR Leavell, from Hot Springs high school who took interest in my career path. I told him I was going to go to Black Hills State to become a Physical Therapist. He laughed and said: “Dude, Black Hills State is a teacher’s college, you should check out the University of Mary, they make a lot of Physical Therapists and isn’t too far away. Why would you go to a teacher’s college if you don’t want to teach?”

When I got back to Naval Air Facility Atsugi Japan, I thought about what JR said. He was dead right. I would have to put in another leave chit to return stateside for a visit to the University of Mary – somehow the Commanding Officer approved another stateside visit. When I touched down at Umary, I told them I wanted to become a Physical Therapist and planned on being an Exercise Scientist. The lady giving me the tour said: “have you ever thought about Athletic Training? That’s a big feeder program for our PT school here.” I took a tour of the Athletic Training facility and spoke with the faculty. I was hooked.

I decided right then and there I would go to the University of Mary for Athletic Training and would be on the Dean’s list all four years – giving 110% to my academic studies, no more frolicking like in the Navy, no more horsing around, all intellectual growth. And that’s just what I did. Getting all A’s in all classes and I was able to gain acceptance into PT school at the University of Mary and the University of South Dakota. I was at another major inflection point in my life.

During my time at the University of Mary, I met a Marine Officer Selection Officer– Capt. Cory. I wanted to make good on what I said to my Commanding Officer back at Helicopter Squadron in Atsugi, so I tracked down the Marine Selection Officer out of Fargo. He was the quintessential Marine – big broad shoulders, loved the suck, lofty enthusiasm, high pride, everything I admired in a man. Capt. Cory had the type of personality that I gravitated to. He said I wouldn’t be selected for Officer Candidate school because one night I had consumed too much booze in Deadwood – he was right. I applied and was denied acceptance into OCS on my first try. I interned for Senator Thune the summer after my first Officer Candidate School denial. A fellow intern had an aunt who was a full-bird Marine Colonel at the Pentagon. She got my waiver pushed through. Shortly thereafter, Capt. Cory called me and said: “I’ve never seen it before, but your waiver got approved, get your shit together, you’ve been selected for Marine Officer Candidate School; if you flunk out and disrespect the North Dakota Marines, I’ll be ashamed I recommended you.”

I shipped to OCS with the intent of giving up on being a physical therapist – I could do that when I’m 50, I thought, but can only slay our Nation’s greatest enemies when I’m young. I would spend a summer in VA at Marine Officer Candidate School. I loved every second of my time in Quantico at OCS. I loved the sting of it, the physicality of it, people screaming at the top of their lungs, the ropes, the runs, the gun battles, the heroic charges, the land navigation, the storied history of the grounds, all of it. I’d make the case that Marine OCS is one of the third (3rd) greatest school in the Services– but that’s a blog post for another day, today we should be focused on becoming a Physical Therapist.

The gal I was seeing at the time recommended that I switch my contract to a Reserve contract and still go through with PT school. I disagreed with her a lot, but I thought there was some merit to what she was saying. This was peace time after all and the allure of spending a couple years stateside with no action wouldn’t be the best use of my energies. I decided I would switch to the Reserves – drilling one weekend/month two weeks/year – and attend Physical Therapy school.

Returning home from Officer Candidate School, I had one more year left at the University of Mary in the Athletic Training program. I needed to take multiple science classes as pre-requisite for Physical Therapy school (physics, biology, etc.). I also had to take the Athletic Training certification exam. I flew through my last year experiencing catastrophic success in everything.

I toured the University of South Dakota and was blown away with their PT program and facility. I knew that USD would challenge me to the greatest extent I had ever been pushed – and I was right. At USD, I was studying gross anatomy and preparing for exams like never before. I never struggled at Undergraduate and found that exams could be aced with a couple hours in the library the night before the exam. Not at USD – gone were the days of one night of studying before an exam. The coursework was tougher, the tests harder, clinic days more strenuous. I received my first ever C after High School in Embryology. I’ll still look back at those slides when I can’t sleep and inevitably, I fall asleep – fewer side effects than taking an Ambien.

I worked my way through PT school while being a Platoon Commander in the Marine Corps reserves – drilling in Wahpeton ND with a company of MP gunfighters there. I also worked as a Graduate Assistant for USD helping Veterans Transition from active duty to Academics. I struggled everyday in PT school, but somehow, I made it to graduation. I had to pass the National Physical Therapy exam – an exam that every licensed Physical Therapist must pass to gain license. I took to studying for the exam the same way I took to passing the brick tread test all those years ago at Recruit Training – every night putting in repetitions until my eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore. The day the notifications were sent out I couldn’t believe that I had passed and would soon gain a license to practice as a Physical Therapist. I loved every second of my time in PT school.

After graduation, I took a job in Rapid City. They promised me a heavy Orthopedic case load – seeing many patients/day. There were several physical therapists on staff who I really respected and valued their mentorship. They gave me a myriad of Orthopedic cases ranging from pediatrics to geriatrics. I was inundated with a high volume of patients that afforded me the opportunity to learn. Rehab is not cookie cutter. There are a thousand reasons why someone’s back might hurt and I wanted to see all thousand real life examples. Working with that corporation gave me exposure to more total knee replacements and total hip rehabilitations than I can count. They gave me a lot of experience and I am ever grateful for being afforded the opportunity to work and learn from the staff there.

Working in corporate healthcare during the Plandemic of 2020/21/22/23/24/∞ was tough and I didn’t want to do it anymore. One patient would say: “can you believe the people that aren’t wearing masks?” The very next person would say: “how can you all still be wearing masks?” The noise of everyone’s opinion was a lot. Further, I’ll never forget when I was reprimanded by the Company Mask Manager who saw me tell a nice lady to take her mask off while she was doing Aerobic exercise. Another nice man was told to not come back for several weeks because he traveled to Sioux Falls. I didn’t agree with the company’s policies and that made me poor systems fit in their program. It was clear that I needed to excuse myself and do something else.

I started Dakota Grit Physical Therapy because I wanted to practice physical therapy – really good physical therapy All the other clinics I have had experience with in the past value revenue and patient volume – dollars and cents type of metrics. In the business of healthcare I believe that using income brought in is a very poor measure of success as a physical therapist. The real metric physical therapists should be judged on is if their patients improved in strength, range of motion, decreased pain etc. Starting my own clinic I decided to do just that – focus on the one person in front of me and provide the most patient centered care in the region.

So that’s how I went from scoring a 17 on the ACTs in high school to becoming a Physical Therapist in charge of the smallest Physical Therapy clinic on the planet – you can’t get any smaller than a staff of 1, well maybe 1.09 if you count me and my 7-year-old boy who cleans tables for me when he’s not in school.

Jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald once said: “it isn’t where you came from, it’s where you’re going that counts.” A decade from today I hope I write another blog post that continues to show self growth.

/s/

James Whitcher

Physical Therapist