Therapeutic Exam Analysis

It was a normal spring night and my baseball game had just started. It was senior night and I was pitching, we had just finish the first half of the first inning. My teammate struck out, it was my turn to hit, I swung for the ball and my leg popped twice. I went down and didn't get back up, My leg was stuck to my chest and I couldn't move it. The visiting team's coach was an EMT he ran over and said ¨this is going to hurt¨ and pulled my leg straight. What had happened was when I swung the bat my leg didn't move and my kneecap dislocated and instead of my ligaments tearing, they stretched and broke my kneecap. This was a challenge for me because this was the first time I had never broken a bone in my life. I went to the doctor and he said nothing was wrong, so my

The following is a critical reflection of my performance during an objective structured clinical exam (OSCE), as part of my training for the role of Psychological Wellbeing Practitioner (PWP). An OCSE is an assessment technique whereby a student demonstrates their competence under simulated conditions (Fidment 2012). For this OSCE, my competence in undertaking a treatment session with a patient was under examination. The treatment session I undertook involved discussing the patient’s progress with behavioural activation (BA), a cognitive-behavioural intervention used for people experiencing depression (Richards and Whyte 2011).

I closed my eyes in disbelief. I refreshed the page. I thought Ms. Platt had attached another student’s rubric to my essay. I wanted the nightmare to end. Not only did I not receive an “A” or a “B,” but a “C-.” I earned a seventy percent. My eyes watered, and I began to feel nauseous. I felt as if I failed myself and my family. This grade was not supposed to be possible. In the words of Grendel, it was an accident. But unfortunately, it was not. At that moment, I had to accept, even if I did not want to, that I, for once, did not reach my high goals or had to surrender my unrealistic view of myself. I had erred, like all humans do, and learned that I was not perfect and that I could fail to reach my standards. At that moment, I realized that I wasn’t superhuman but human, and this was something challenging for me to cope with at the time. However, in discovering my ability to fail, my perception of myself had been revolutionized.

You are working in the internal medicine clinic of a large teaching hospital. Today your first patient is 70-year-old J.M, a man who has been coming to the clinic for several years for management of CAD and HTN. A cardiac catheterization done a year ago showed 50% stenosis of the circumflex coronary artery. He has had episodes of dizziness for the past 6 months and orthostatic hypotension, shoulder discomfort, and decreased exercise tolerance for the past 2 months. On his last clinic visit 3 weeks ago, a CXR showed cardiomegaly and a 12-lead ECG showed sinus tachycardia with left bundle branch block. You review his morning blood work and initial assessment.

Undecided, initially, because of her age the possibility of an inaccurate diagnosis, the differences of both the reliability and validity which may occur because of the difference in age, race, gender as well as socioeconomic status. However, in Clara’s case, it may just be a phase like many toddlers and adolescents go through. On the contrary, it can also be something a little more severe because of the fact that she is adopted,

I’ve have been through hardships and hard times, especially with sports. One of many injuries was when I was playing basketball during open gym. As I went up for a contested lay-up, I twisted my leg. Not knowing it was still planted, I chipped the tibia in my knee. Though it hurt, I was still was able to walk it off. My father and I went to the

My freshman year of high school I broke the Scaphoid and growth plate in my right wrist while playing in a basketball game. I didn’t know that it was broken for two weeks and I played in three of four basketball games with my broken dominant hand. I found that is was probably broken the Monday before Christmas. On Christmas Eve I was told that I would be put in a cast for the entire Christmas break and on January 3rd we would find out if it was really broke. Sure enough we came back and told that I would have to be in a cast for six to eight weeks. I was pretty devastated and upset that I would be out for the rest of the season, it had barely begun. I was staying pretty optimistic about it because it would give me a chance to work on my weak hand, it was my left, and make it stronger. I still went to practice and worked as hard as I could hoping that the coach’s

I was thirteen, and I had just come home from a school softball game. My friend Dalton had invited my sister and I to come and swim at the neighborhood pond. My sister stayed home, but I got permission to go. After a while of swimming, Dalton looks at me claims that he’ll jump out of a tree near the bank if I jump out. Of course, I accepted my friend’s little dare and climbed into the tree, focusing on the seven-foot-deep drop-off off of the bank. Regrettably, I didn’t jump far enough. My right leg landed in the drop-off, but my left leg hit the clay, which caused all of my weight to shift to my left foot. I felt an immense pain in my ankle and started screaming while crawling over to the bank as Dalton ran to get my mom. After I finally made it to the emergency room, I found that I had broken my fibula at an upward slant, which caused the upper part of the bone to slam down into my ankle.I had completely blown out every ligament and tendon on the left side of my ankle. I had to have a plate and four screws implanted into my fibula along with the surgical repair of all of my ligaments and tendons. The entire ordeal left me extremely interested in the human body, and this interest was heightened when I had to get my appendix removed a few months later and again when I took Anatomy and

I was practicing at my competitive cheerleading gym, when my life was unexpectedly turned upside down. While performing a back walkover back handspring, there was a loud “pop” as I hyperextended my right elbow, tearing both my muscle and my ulnar collateral ligament. I promptly sunk to my knees and began sobbing. The next thing I knew, I was laboriously working through physical therapy at NASA Bone & Joint Specialist instead of relaxing at the beach. This unexpected injury would manifest to be a significant

Counselor facilitated an individual session with the client to address hostile, defiant behavior, and temper tantrums.

I showed up in uniform to tell my coach of the news I had received from the doctor. He gave me back a response that was the perfect sentiment I needed to hear "That’s terrible man, that’s nothing you can take lightly but you are a part of this team so you are still gonna be with us all the way through even if you cant get on the field,". That’s exactly what I did too. I stayed with my team and went all the practices and every game. I participated as much as I could without over working my arm. None of it was ever enough for me though. None of it was ever as sweet as actually being apart of real baseball and being apart of the wins. It was soon time for the next appointment where there was no good news. The doctor said if there was anything to be done it required immediate surgery. This felt like great news, finally getting something done and going back to the game I love. I went through surgery, and the doctor told he did everything he needed to do to fix what was believed to be the problem. I began the healing process as soon as I could and I went to all my physical therapy sessions with one goal. To get back on the field. Little did I know that there had been no progress inside my elbow and I required an additional surgery. Of course I was ready for anything it took to get back to baseball. So another surgery, more physical therapy, and the entire healing process over again. All of it goes by with one thing on my

I had been drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to deal with the throbbing in my throwing shoulder. My coach, with the sweet taste of victory almost immediately gone, was barking questions to me. Where does it hurt in your shoulder, can you move your fingers, can you raise your arm. The coaches eventually determined it would be best to cart me off the field, not knowing what exactly happened to me. Turns out I had dislocated my shoulder and severely sprained my deltoids. But the harshest pain I felt after the initial shock, was hobbling over to the car. I glanced up one more time, to see the clouds covering the once glorious sun, and the leaves still dancing in the wind, as if they were laughing at me. I got in the car

One of the major obstacles that I had to overcome was my diagnosis and removal of a World Health Organization grade three tumor from my spinal column. During the spring semester of my senior year of undergrad, I fail ill and could not continue with the pursuit of my education. During that time I had to withdraw from all of my classes as I underwent two different spinal surgeries in order to remove the tumor. Following the surgery, I was scheduled for radiation treatment which drain me all of my energy and cause me to be sick all throughout the treatment process. I was not able to walk for a short while after the surgery. I have viewed the illness as a challenge and obstacle that I must overcome. My coping skills entail the progress that I was

On Wednesday, September 16th, 2015 I was at gymnastics practice, I was doing a skill on bars. I fell, I had a hard fall, a very hard fall. I was unable to feel or move my fingers, my coaches knew right away that there was a bad break in my forearm. On Wednesday, September 23rd, 2015 I had my first surgery.

Bringing my elbow near my face to see what was causing such an excruciating pain, I gasped in horror. My bone was dislocated, and a crater-like gap in my skin replaced where the bone should have been. As a natural instinct, my body wanted to remove the horrifying image from my brain. Panicked and uncertain of what to do, I straightened my arm. The slightest crack was perceived by my ears as my bones grinded against each other and popped back into my joint. A nearly unbearable pain was dispensed throughout my left arm. Bending my arm at a ninety degree angle and clutching my left elbow with my right hand, I showed a moment of weakness and began to cry.