Your Back Hurts. So Why Am I Looking Somewhere Else?

You come in because your low back hurts.

So it might seem strange when I start asking about your workday. How you sleep. What you do for exercise. An old ankle injury. Whether you spend your weekends gardening, running after your kids or sitting in the car.

And then, during assessment, I may look at your hips, pelvis, ribs or even your feet.

What does any of that have to do with your back?

Quite a lot, potentially.

Because one of the things I find most fascinating about osteopathy is that we aren't simply interested in where you hurt.

We're interested in how your body is functioning as a whole — and what might be contributing to the pattern you're experiencing.

Your symptoms are part of a bigger story

Your body has been adapting to your life for years. Injuries. Work. Parenthood. Sport. Stress. Sleep. Repetitive movements. Periods of activity and inactivity.

When something changes, your body finds a way to keep you moving. After an ankle injury, for example, you might temporarily shift your weight away from that leg. Your pelvis and trunk adapt so you can continue walking. Eventually the ankle feels better — but that doesn't necessarily mean every adaptation you developed along the way disappears immediately.

That doesn't mean an old ankle injury caused your back pain. It means your history gives me context.

When someone tells me their low back hurts, I want to understand the life that back has been living.

The body doesn't move in separate pieces

We talk about our bodies as though they're individual parts: my back, my shoulder, my hip.

But your body doesn't experience itself that way. Muscles and fascia span different regions. Your pelvis transfers forces between your legs and trunk. Your ribs move with your spine and your breath. Nerves and blood vessels travel through the tissues and spaces created by your structure.

Movement in one area affects the mechanical environment around another.

So although I absolutely assess the place you're experiencing symptoms, I don't assume that's where my investigation should end. A low-back complaint might lead me toward the hips, pelvis or lower limbs. It might also lead me upward toward the ribs or shoulder girdle.

I'm following what I find rather than treating according to a predetermined recipe.

Whole-body care doesn't mean treating everything. It means understanding relationships.

Assessment is a process of following clues

Once I understand some of your history, I want to see how your body is moving right now.

Where does movement happen easily? Where does it feel restricted? How does one region relate to another? What changes when I introduce movement somewhere else?

I think of it a little like peeling back the layers of an onion. Sometimes something initially appears significant, but once another area begins moving more freely, the picture changes.

That's why assessment doesn't really end when treatment begins.

Assess. Treat. Reassess.

I assess what I'm finding, treat where I believe it may be useful, and then check again. How did your body respond? What changed? What didn't? Where does that lead me next?

Your body is giving me information throughout the appointment. And I want to listen to it.

I don't think of treatment as something I do to you

I'm not trying to force your body into a predetermined version of ‘correct.’ Bodies are dynamic. They adapt. And people have different capacities for change at different times in their lives.

Sometimes someone's body responds quickly to treatment. They feel great, don't need another appointment and return months later when something new comes up. Other times, a pattern has been present for years. The body may respond better to smaller, more gradual changes.

More treatment isn't necessarily better treatment.

I want to work at a pace your body seems able to comfortably integrate. That requires me to pay attention not only to what I'm feeling with my hands, but to you. Are you comfortable? What are you noticing? How did you respond after your last treatment?

I bring my understanding of anatomy, movement and osteopathic principles. You bring something equally important: the experience of actually living in your body.

Good care needs both.

And then there are the other 23½ hours

This is where my background before osteopathy continues to influence the way I practise.

I spent more than a decade teaching yoga and movement education, including work around natural human movement, breathing mechanics, posture, stress and nervous-system regulation. It taught me to be curious about what happens outside the treatment room.

Imagine we spend part of an appointment creating more comfortable movement through someone's low back and pelvis. Then they leave and spend eight hours every day in a workstation that doesn't suit them. Or perhaps they sleep on their stomach every night with their neck rotated to the same side. Maybe their footwear changes how they're loading their body, or their work requires the same movement hundreds of times a day.

None of these things is inherently ‘wrong.’ The more useful question is: What is your body repeatedly being asked to do — and how well is it currently able to adapt to that demand?

Sometimes a small adjustment can help support what we're working toward on the treatment table. That might mean exploring positioning, movement, breathing or another everyday habit. It doesn't mean I'm giving you a complicated rehabilitation program.

When someone needs targeted strengthening or rehabilitation, that's where another practitioner, such as a physiotherapist, may be an important part of their care. I'm very comfortable saying: this piece belongs with someone else.

Healthcare doesn't need to be territorial to be effective.

So what makes osteopathy different?

For me, it comes down to the questions we're asking.

Not simply: Where does it hurt?

But: How is this body moving? How might different regions be influencing one another? What has this body adapted to over time? What demands does this person place on it every day? What happens when we change one part of the pattern? And what does this particular person need from me today?

That's why two people can arrive with the same complaint and receive very different treatments.

The symptom matters. It's just not necessarily the whole story.

My role isn't to ‘fix’ you. I see it more as listening — to what you're telling me and to what I'm finding through assessment — and using my training to help interpret that information.

Then we work together.

Sometimes that means hands-on treatment. Sometimes it means recognizing an everyday pattern that's worth changing. Sometimes it means involving another healthcare practitioner. And sometimes the body simply needs an opportunity to move differently.

Because ultimately, I'm not chasing a symptom. I'm trying to understand the body — and the person — experiencing it.

Curious whether osteopathic care might be right for you?

You don't need to know what's causing your symptoms before you come in. That's part of what we'll explore together.