Have you ever been told no and gone elsewhere for a second opinion? Or been told you can’t do something and then found another way through? This piece is about the opportunities that lie within asking for a second or even a tenth opinion.
I have two personal experiences that required me to take a second look. Those experiences have changed the trajectory of my life.
The first experience began back in 2009, I was running late for work as I typically did in my 20’s. Naturally, I stopped to mail a letter to further my late status. I shifted down in my Black Honda Civic, threw it into park and quickly ran across the street to the stumpy red Canada Post mailbox along the boulevard. I fed the mailbox my letter, pivot turned and began to race back to my car (as if my run pace might get me back to the office on time). As I’m galloping back, I fall forward off the boulevard, cracking my left knee to the pavement and land on my hands and knees. Shocked, I look back to discover those pesky prairie landmarks of a gopher hole. I looked around to see if anyone had seen my embarrassingly dramatic fall. Of course, two guys in a half tonne at the stop sign. I waved to show them I was alright and proceeded to get up and laugh-limp back to my car.
I sat for a moment and started to laugh-cry, more crying then laughing at this point. I went to start up the engine and place my foot on the clutch – shooting pains run down my leg. I’m starting to worry about how I’m going to make it to work in time or if I can even drive, I wait a few more moments on how to proceed. After calling a close friend and gathering myself, I lift my leg again to the clutch and this time I think I can get through the pain. So I carry on to work and hope my knee injury is a minor one.
I go through the next two years struggling with my knee. I can no longer run, sit or bend it for long periods or walk far distances. Some days it would send shooting pains that I couldn’t climb up or down stairs without the use of handrails. Somedays I couldn’t lift my leg out of bed without the help of my hands. It became increasingly worse over a two year period. While I was living out in Vancouver I visited countless doctors and physical therapists looking for a remedy for my bum knee. I had one doctor tell me that I had to stay away from any activities that involved impact to the knee; running, tennis, long walks. Another doctor told me my knee might not ever fully recover or ever be the same again. Tears clouded my eyes in that doctors office, I hated that such a silly fall was effecting my ability to do basic functions like walking long distances. So I did what I tended to do at that stage, I called my parents to mope. Lucky for me, my dad had graduated high school with a surgeon who was now practicing at Vancouver’s St. Paul Hospital. He referred me to an orthopaedic surgeon, who took one look at my knee, and announced I had been overcompensating for so long that I had lost all the muscles surrounding my knee. My muscles had atrophied, which is why my knee was starting to give out and ache chronically. Turns out I had bruised the bursa on top of my knee, which in turn caused me to stop using my leg as I normally would. She handed me some anti-inflammatories to take for 10 days and told me to use my knee as I normally would without pain. After 10 days my pain was completely gone. I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. TWO YEARS. Finally I had found someone who was able to help me heal and come out the other side. Zero pain since. That’s a miracle of second (or tenth) opinions.
My second experience was in 2017 when I decided to pursue a degree. Up till that point I felt I couldn’t commit to a degree, completing diplomas and certificates in varying fields instead. But this degree felt different. Reviewing the course work I was incredibly interested in the content and studying through the Athabasca University would allow me to study from home along with working and raising my family in rural. I was interested in learning more about the history of communications, our cultural policies in Canada, theories of social change and furthering my understanding for research methods in the social sciences. Eager to begin, I called the registrar. Understanding I needed enough credits from my past programs I wanted to check in to see if I would make the cut for a successful application. As I discussed my previous programs and credits, the man on the other end informed me that I was not eligible. The programs I attended would not be enough. Deflated, I hung up the phone, sunk back in my chair and felt my tears sting my eyes in disappointment. How could the four years of college I attended be inapplicable? Then I naturally moved from feelings of sadness to outright anger. I was mad. So I picked up the phone a second time and this time reaching a women working in the registrar. I explained my situation and with an encouraging voice she told me to apply anyway. That she couldn’t make any promises but that I should send in the application with all my transcripts and see what happens. So I did. Two weeks later I received my acceptance letter. I was a student once again. I graduated in 2022 with newly acquired skills and knowledge that have been invaluable in my understanding and appreciation for the world around me and honed skills for journalism and writing.
And so, I hope you too get angry. Request a second, third or tenth opinion that helps you heal in the way you need or that it brings you closer to the meaning and purpose of your own beautiful life.
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