Inquisitive.me

When a patient comes in, the first few minutes always follow the same script:

• “When does the pain start?”
• “What makes it worse?”
• “What makes it better?”
• “Have you tried therapy before?”

…you know the drill. Basically, we’re figuring out what we’re dealing with.

What’s hard for me in that moment? Not jumping straight into explaining.

A patient says something like:

• “I don’t have time for exercises.”
• “Massages really helped me with my pain.”
• “Physiotherapy didn’t help me in the past.”

And my brain is already revving up with a reply.

That’s bad practice. It’s not a real conversation — it’s just waiting for your turn to talk.

I still catch myself doing it, but I’m working on breaking the habit by answering with questions instead.

For example, instead of saying, “Everyone has the same amount of time, it’s just a matter of priorities” (which, yes, is technically true), I’ll ask:

“Why is it hard for you to find time for training?”

You wouldn’t believe what you learn from that — and how quickly it builds connection. And connection is what makes you stand out as a physio.

Every physio can hand out exercises or rattle off explanations. We’ve got millions of them in our heads — one more random than the other. Throw in a few “sciency” words like proprioceptive training or biomechanical function and you’re set.

But actually listening? Showing empathy? That’s the real work. And it’s what separates you from so many colleagues in healthcare. Often, people don’t need a lecture or a stack of exercises. They need to feel seen. They need their pain to be respected. They need empathy.

Here are three patients who reminded me of that (names changed, of course):

Case #1 – Hilda

Hilda knew she needed to exercise. She wanted to. She even tried. But she started with random exercises from an old therapy, and it made her pain worse.

Exercising is like baking — you don’t just need the right ingredients, you need the right amounts. Throwing eggs, flour, and milk together might give you pancakes. Or maybe scrambled eggs. But if you use 15 eggs and 20 ml of milk, you won’t get pancakes either.

After listening, explaining at the right moment, and telling her she did the best she could with the knowledge she had, she said:

“This was the first time somebody actually listened to me. Thank you for that.”

It melted my heart.

Case #2 – Maria

Maria was in the middle of a divorce, raising two kids alone, and her last physiotherapy had failed her. She told me upfront she wouldn’t make time for exercises — not in the evenings, not ever. Fair enough. I’d be exhausted too.

Instead of forcing a program on her, I asked if she could imagine doing something during work hours. She said yes — but what she really wanted was to dance again. She thought she had to go three times a week to make it “worth it,” but I explained that even once a week could help.

If you’ve ever flown, you know the rule: put your own mask on first, then help others. For Maria, dancing once a week wasn’t about “training” — it was about sanity, relief, and functioning better for her kids. And that matters.

Case #3 – Anne

Anne, 83, had been active all her life but still had pain. She felt unstable and tried to “brace” her back by constantly tightening her belly, even when standing up or climbing stairs. She showed me some seriously impressive exercises for her age, and I made sure she knew it.

The only advice I gave her: “Use your whole body.” We focused on using glutes and legs instead of just bracing the belly. The moment she shifted that pattern, her pain eased — and she could stand up and climb stairs without discomfort. She was so happy she asked if she could hug me. Of course, I said yes.

It’s not always about exercises.
It’s not always about explanations.
Most of the time, it’s about empathy. Seeing the person. Asking instead of lecturing. Respecting their pain. Showing them they’re not alone — and that they’re already doing the best they can with the knowledge they have.

Of course, there are patients who’ll drain you dry if you let them. (Some people are just human Capri-Suns.) The trick is to know what — and who — you’re dealing with (check out this), and respond accordingly.

That’s where a little curiosity can work better than any exercise sheet.

🧪 Let’s Experiment

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When you feel the urge to explain, hit pause and get curious instead.

Explaining is easy. Listening takes discipline — but it builds trust faster than any lecture ever will.

🎯 Try This:

Next time you notice yourself about to launch into an explanation or start handing out random exercises, stop for a moment. Ask yourself:

Can I turn this into a question instead?

Try uncovering your patient’s motives, habits, and hidden obstacles. You might be surprised by what they reveal. Then you can decide whether they need an explanation, encouragement, or something entirely different.

🧠 Final Thought:

Connection doesn’t come from how much you know — it comes from showing that you care enough to listen.

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Keep it simple, stay curious, and keep learning—you’ve got this.

Take care,

Carina 🦊