I heard the words "Nice day" coming out of my mouth which would be fine except it was 38 degrees.As a newly transplanted Southerner, I had already betrayed my people.

Walking about in my shirtsleeves, mumbling niceties about warmfronts—the last time it was this cold in Tennessee, I wore heated hunting socks. Inside.

When I moved to the Midwest one fated July, my new PT coworkers asked me if I'd ever visited Minnesota or Wisconsin during the winter. Well, I hadn't. They nodded conspiratorially and placed an ad for my position, effective January.

They shared stories of the last Southerner who had moved to the Midwest sight-unseen. Authorities discovered him in a suntan booth downtown, clad only in his altogether with reggae music pulsing to a UV beat. Reportedly, he whispered "There's no place like home. There's no place like home," as he clicked his ruby-red thighs together. How S.A.D.

It was November that year before I bought a winter coat. I thought everyone was kidding about the concept of "30 below zero." I thought they meant 30 below freezing (plenty cold for transplants). A coworker finally (graciously) took me out to buy a coat.

I made the obvious error of holding up attractive garments. "Good grief, Andrea, you can tell you're not pregnant in that one," she said, teaching me the Midwesterner's Rules of Winter Fashion. "Think Pillsbury dough-boy."

Another woman at work bought me a calendar that reports things such as "the temperature at which flesh freezes." I must admit we do not have these statistics commercially available back in Tennessee.

The worst part? Winter lasts half a year. Once you finally get past January, February rears its frigid head. February is the month when friends (friends!) attempt to drive you out onto the top of nearby lakes. I'm from the south, so I know better. Just because there are 34 Dodge Rams and a Pinto parked happily midstream does not mean the ice will take the weight of one more.

The Profession We Love
There are two things that keep me going. One, the fact that I have the ultimately cool job of spending my days as a physical therapist in a swimming pool and two, the fact that that swimming pool happens to be 93 degrees Fahrenheit.

Every day I am so thankful that I have found such a fabulous calling. I am often amazed at the people I meet who are so profoundly unhappy in what they do. At a recent high school reunion I spoke with my old classmates. So many of them hated their jobs. That's how they thought of it: "The job." Not "my profession." Not the fulfillment of a lifetime. Not even the culmination of years of hard work. No, it was THE JOB (something to get home from as quickly as possible in order to start living life).

In the profession that is physical therapy, we have options. Yes, we have suffered at the hand of budget cuts and ill-advised managed care policies. Yes, we now must do more with less. But is there any other profession in which there are so many options? In my short (10-year) span since graduating from PT school, I have recreated my professional identity many times. As my interests evolved, so have I.

And so can you. Tired of the rat-race with PPS and HMOs? Start up a cash-based practice. Frustrated at not knowing if the treatments you provide do anything? Become a researcher. It's up to you. As a physical therapist or PTA you can:

• Provide therapy for the disabled, the developmentally delayed child, the Green Bay Packer, and the burn victim alike;
• Teach promising young skulls full of mush at PT and/or PTA schools;
• Perform ground-breaking (or even somewhat insignificant) research;
• Edit a professional journal;
• Run a cash-based holistic medicine center;
• Be an entrepreneur and buy your own clinic;
• Be an administrator and run the place;
• Write columns for ADVANCE about your fear of frozen laketop travel.

You already have the professional credentials and the know-how. Now, summon up the guts. Take the plunge. Make sure you never go to another reunion without that swell in your chest commonly known as pride.You are a PT/PTA. Let them hear you roar.

Disclaimer
The information presented in this article is meant to be a summary and educational in nature. It is not meant to serve as a substitute for legal advice.

Author Bio
Andrea Poteat Salzman, MS, PT is the owner of two businesses, the Aquatic Resources Network and Concepts in Physical Therapy. She has received both the prestiguous Aquatic Therapy Professional of the Year Award (Aquatic Therapy and Rehabilitation Institute) and the Tsunami Aquatic Therapy Award.

Salzman is well-regarded within the industry as:

• Editor-in-Chief of an aquatic therapy trade journal and newsletter;
• Author of over a dozen publications, including the soon-to-be-released Evidence-Based Aquatic Therapy textbook;
• Freelance author and columnist;
• Aquatic therapy seminar instructor;
• Adjunct faculty and research advisor, St. Catherine Physical Therapy Program, Minneapolis, MN;
• Immediate past manager of therapeutic aquatics, St. Paul Ramsey Medical Center, St. Paul, MN;
• Researcher and grant recipient examining aquatic exercise vs. land-based exercise.

She may be reached via e-mail at asalzman@aquaticnet.com