physiobox July Newsletter: Honouring Our Mentors

Hey everyone,

It’s been a while! I hope this email finds you all well. It’s been a little while since our last newsletter, but I’m excited to get these back on a regular schedule. 

This month, I would like to write about honouring our mentors as we go about our day-to-day lives. I’m sure most of you reading can think of at least one person who showed up at a fork in the road in your past, or someone who supported you and left a meaningful impact on your life.

For me, that person was Dr. Michelle Ploughman, who while living for many years with breast cancer continued on with courage, purpose, humility, and generosity until her passing this spring. 

Like me, Michelle grew up in rural Newfoundland and Labrador. She earned a black belt in karate and competed nationally, worked as a physiotherapist for over fifteen years before completing her Master's and PhD in neuroscience, and went on to build a nationally recognized research lab focused on brain recovery and performance. She spoke around the world and mentored countless students and healthcare professionals along the way.

I first met Michelle while completing my undergrad in kinesiology at Memorial University in St. John’s, working beside her as her second-ever research assistant in the L.A. Miller Centre, a small hospital located in the heart of the city. I continued to work with her on some level throughout my undergrad, as well as before physiotherapy school, and we stayed in touch in all the years that followed.

Michelle was always grounded, passionate, deeply caring, and hard-working. Everyone she crossed paths with, from the hospital cafeteria staff to directors and medical specialists, had nothing but respect and adoration for her. I could talk at great length about the work we did together and everything she did for me. We spent months driving around Newfoundland interviewing older adults about their lived experience with MS and healthy aging. We co-authored a three-part systematic review examining stroke recovery and exercise, wrote grant proposals for her envisioned research lab, and shared countless other projects and conversations along the way.

Michelle also steered me back onto the right path when I had fallen off it, opened doors to countless learning and volunteer opportunities, helped me gain admission to physiotherapy school, and supported me in a big way while I prepared for my credentialing exams. Even after I left Newfoundland (to her dismay), she remained a source of grounded wisdom whenever I found myself lost or uncertain of what to do next. 

If you have had a positive experience at physiobox, whether it was figuring out a complicated injury, finding an approach grounded in science and evidence, feeling seen and heard, or being cared for on a level that went beyond what you had experienced in other healthcare settings, it is really because of Michelle. She instilled in me a deep sense of integrity, taught me to always maintain a critical eye, to walk through barriers rather than around them.

When I did not get accepted into my first choice of physiotherapy schools, I felt like a failure. Michelle reassured me and said, "the future is too bright to see!" A few weeks later I was accepted into a prestigious Master's of Public Health program at McMaster University, and eventually another physiotherapy school where my admissions interview was waived, largely in part due to the experience I had gained in working with Michelle and the letter of recommendation she had written.

I last saw Michelle two years ago on my most recent trip back to St. John’s. She asked me to give a talk on overcoming adversity and finding your way professionally to a large group of PhD, Master's, and undergraduate students now working in her lab. It was amazing to see how far she had come; the lab had grown from two small offices in the back hallway of a hospital to an entire wing, one of the largest research labs within Memorial University, where she continued working even while undergoing chemotherapy.

I am so grateful to have shared that last in-person moment with her.

We last spoke in the fall of last year. She told me that she was still working and doing well, and how proud she was of what I had accomplished and stood for.

On the morning of my birthday, April 2nd, I received news that she had passed away from her cancer earlier that day in palliative care, surrounded by her family and loved ones.

“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.” This is one of my favourite quotes when it comes to research and science. Just because something has not been proven yet does not mean the possibility isn’t there. In the first few months I spent working with Michelle, her father passed away. My 21-year-old self, not knowing what to say, wrote the same line on a sympathy card for her, an attempt to bring new meaning to it. She kept that card posted on the cork board immediately above her computer in her small office for as long as I can remember afterward.

I think of that same line now when I think of Michelle. While she is no longer physically here, her legacy is. Her efforts to treat everyone as an equal, to always work from a place of care and compassion, and to improve the lives of those around her all remain close to my heart. They are a torch I hope to carry forward, and I'm sure many of the other people whose lives she impacted are doing the same. 

On that note, I would like to invite you to consider that individual who helped you along the way in your own journey, and the meaningful impact they had on you. I believe that one of the best ways we can thank these people is to pay it forward: to remain present and considerate in our own day-to-day lives, and in how we support others as we continue on. In doing so, that person never really leaves, and we all contribute to a future that is too bright to see.

- Mark