So there I was on a gorgeous Saturday morning in early August: bike riding from Boston to Cape Cod on my sixth Pan Massachusetts Challenge (PMC), a two-day, 160-mile, 31-year-old, 5000-cyclist event that benefits the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute at Harvard University. (I know you might be wondering why a girl from Ohio rides in Massachusetts. I can only tell you that Fellow David Troilo, Dean at the SUNY State College of Optometry, got me into it seven years ago.) I’d already done Academy work that weekend, talking with Fellow Don Korb and Past President Joan Exford about Academy 2011 Boston plans on the way to New England in the car, and I was trying to come up with an idea for this column as I rode.
On the first day, I made my way into the lunch stop in Rehoboth, Massachusetts and saw a large group of cancer patient advocates/ride supporters wearing t-shirts that said, “Smile. It’s Today.” I figured I had my inspirational topic for this month. Then life/fate/happenstance threw me a curve.
The next day, 38 miles into the 80-mile ride on Cape Cod, having navigated successfully over the Bourne Bridge at 5:00 A.M. and already up one of the more challenging hills, I found myself in an ambulance on the way to Cape Cod Hospital. I “woke up” there, after spending several minutes unconscious, asking to call my husband and obsessively worried about the condition and location of my bicycle. I have no recollection of the accident, but the PMC folks later told me that a rider went down on damp pavement just in front of me, and five of us piled up after him. I suffered a concussion that blackened both eyes plus some pretty dramatic bruising on my left hip and a bit of road rash on various limbs. My helmet was cracked all the way through. I know what my late mother would have said: “She never suffered a concussion on my watch!”
I went on to a planned week’s vacation with my family and friends on Nantucket Island after that. I replaced my helmet at a local bike store there and rode, somewhat gingerly and with more than a little fear, 50 miles over the familiar roads and bike paths on the island, and I reflected on the decisions we all make when we get thrown a curve—on the bike route, at work, in life, or in our Academy.
What if you’ve put forth your very best effort on your required case report for Fellowship, and you get feedback that it just isn’t quite right or even that it needs a complete overhaul? You could “take your ball and go home,” declaring to anyone who will listen that your case report was perfect even as your Fellowship candidacy expires. I would argue that you could instead look at the comments from the Admittance Committee, revise your case report, and resubmit it. What if the manuscript you submitted to Optometry and Vision Science needs extensive revision, and you disagree with the reviewers and Topical Editor about those revisions? Again, you could put the manuscript and the reviews in the darkest corner of your computer where you’ll never see them again, or you could prepare a detailed response to each criticism, either making the suggested revision or carefully providing the scientific rationale for why the criticism is incorrect. What if your leadership efforts in your Section, Special Interest Group, or Committee feel stymied or unappreciated? You could decide to walk away from that particular endeavor, or you could talk with the other people involved and try to figure out a better way to move your objectives forward or to adapt those objectives to the abilities and aspirations of the people you’re leading. How you respond to obstacles on the road is always up to you.
By the way, I am well on the road to recovery, two weeks after the accident. I had to forgo a similar charity ride at Ohio State this past weekend, and I finally gave into my headaches and dizziness and slept for an entire day late last week. This morning, the bruises on my face were actually almost amenable to make-up to cover them. I learned from my primary care physician about an online concussion score sheet and that my greater-than-usual swings of emotion are to be expected. I also learned to be resilient, grateful, motivated, and alive.
