What No One Else Sees
- By Laurie Watanabe
- Jan 01, 2018
Talent hits a target no one else can hit, said German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. Genius hits a target no one else can see.
That bit of wisdom came up again and again as I worked on this January issue.
Here’s what Lauren Rosen, PT, MPT, MSMS, ATP/SMS, said in explaining why she and her colleagues support early-intervention seating and mobility, as described in a newly updated RESNA position paper (see MMBeat): “We see something in a kid that the parents don’t see yet. I see function and I see mobility in these kids, even though they can’t speak and they can’t crawl, and maybe they can’t sit unsupported. But I see a kid in there.”
That “target no one else can see” concept came up again while I was talking with Numotion CEO/President Mike Swinford about his white paper that imagines what the complex rehab technology (CRT) industry is truly capable of (also in MMBeat).
And you can see echoes of that same belief in our feature story about the use of space-age materials such as carbon fiber, titanium and aerospace aluminum in ultralightweight manual wheelchairs.
January is traditionally a month of self reflection. In making New Year’s resolutions, we see ourselves not as we are, but as we would like to be. Even if many of those resolutions fall away, there’s a lot to be said for reaching toward something better and making the effort to get there.
As a CRT professional — as an ATP, a seating and wheeled mobility clinician, a technician, an executive, an owner, a billing specialist, a case manager, a customer service specialist, a CRT manufacturer, an industry advocate — you make your living from envisioning what could be possible and figuring out a bridge to get there.
Where others see paralysis, you focus on the function that remains. When others see strength ebbing away, you look for ways to compensate. If others — even other healthcare professionals — see a patient with limited or no mobility and think facility, you think accessible home. And when parents see a toddler who can’t sit up or crawl, you see a child who isn’t mobile… yet.
You see hope, and even better, you give hope. You design it. You build it. You fit it. You customize it. You quantify and justify it for payors. You demonstrate it to hesitant parents, to referral sources, to insurance companies. You service and maintain and repair it. And always, you look to improve it.
It’s why I’m so proud to cover this industry, and so in awe of your talent, your perseverance, your determination, your stubbornness, your knowledge, your creativity and yes, your genius. Happy new year!
This article originally appeared in the January 2018 issue of Mobility Management.
Laurie Watanabe is the editor of Mobility Management. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.