Please Release Me, Let Me Go
There I was, sitting quietly in class, so eager for
knowledge, so ready to learn. Like a true scout, I was also
willing to give my body to science. Luckily for me, that‟s
how I missed falling headlong into professional dementia.
And to think it all happened in an accredited continuing
education class I had paid good money to attend! Little did
I know that I was going to take part in a myofascial
release ceremony that was woven into the lymphedema course
I had signed up for.
The lymphedema training seemed well enough supported by my
memories of anatomy and physiology but what really
intrigued me were the MFR rituals that were performed in
class. That‟s when innocent minds began crashing all over
the room and I was thankful to be safely supine on a plinth
while it happened. I began to wonder if therapists actually
get paid for this and how in the world the profession
reconciles this kind of “treatment” with our quest for
“evidence based practice.” Maybe we should consider doing
away with the DPT altogether and openly declare our intent
to become shamans, witch-doctors and goofballs instead.
The initiation ceremony began with yours truly supine on a
plinth in the middle of the room. With an absolutely
straight face my course presenter began holding her palms a
few inches above my torso. After a few hushed moments she
intoned that she was beginning to feel some warmth over my
right shoulder! This was taken to be a pretty neat clinical
observation by just about everyone present. As for me I
couldn‟t resist the temptation to remark in a stage
whisper, “I am a mammal!” Wasn‟t that ever presented in
our lecture halls? “Yes class, today we want to review some
interesting characteristics about the patients we treat.
They are warm-blooded creatures known as mammals and you
will feel warmth when you place your hands near them. In
the event that you do not feel any warmth you can assume
your patient is either a reptile or is dead. In either case
you should stop treatment until you have consulted with the
referring physician to verify species and life.” Suddenly I
knew I was going to have more fun than anyone else in the
room.
Once my warmth had been verified it was time to begin
“unwinding” my right upper extremity which (unbeknownst to
me) had apparently gotten pretty wound up. My instructor
began applying vigorous manual traction to my right arm and
then began to slowly and magically circumduct it, all the
while telling the class (and I‟m not kidding here) “I am
not moving his arm! It‟s moving all by itself!”
With mouths rounded in slack-jawed wonder, my classmates
were transfixed. Suddenly I realized that we had all
descended into a “Far Side” moment and I found myself
wishing that Gary Larson were there to capture the event.
Temptation came my way and once again I could not resist
it. When a classmate asked if my arm was really moving all
by itself I said “No, not at all, she‟s pulling it around
pretty hard.” Not to be dismayed by my remark the
instructor confidently told me “No I‟m not! It just feels
that way to you.” And then to the group “I‟m not doing
anything at all. It wants to unwind all by itself!” All
I could do was grin and think, ”Please! Release my old
fascia or you‟re going to pull my arm off!”
Later during a failed attempt to unwind my arm during lab
my partner said “Am I doing something wrong? It‟s not
moving like it did for the instructor.” When I replied
that, “You have to pull it around like she did in order for
it to move that way.” my dear lab partner said, “But she
said she wasn‟t moving it at all!” I tried to let her down
easy. “Did you really believe that? She was putting so
much traction on my arm she almost pulled me off the
plinth!” If it wasn‟t so sad the whole silly affair might
have been even more humorous than it was. I had a little
fun, but I couldn‟t help but feel disheartened at the
epidemic of gullibility in the room. If contemporary PT
practice embraces the MFR theory and techniques I
experienced I can‟t help but think we are in deep trouble
as a profession.
There‟s an old fable that goes something like this…” One
year in a certain kingdom the harvest came in poisoned with
mold and all who ate it lost their minds. Because there was
nothing else to eat, the king said, „We have to eat this
grain or we‟ll all die but let there be a few among us who
at least remember that we are crazy.” I for one, think we
must be nuts if this kind of nonsense can pass itself off
as a legitimate part of the physical therapy profession. Is
it just me or are we all quacking up?
Bob Shutes PT