Osteo Coach (2026)

09/02/2026

I nearly didn’t share this video.

Not because I’m unsure about osteopathy.

But because I realised we struggle to explain what we actually do.

For years, I thought the answer was obvious.
Then I tried to put it into one clear sentence.

And I couldn’t.

The more I spoke to colleagues and reflected on my training, the clearer it became:
We all describe the same profession in very different ways.

Ask 100 osteopaths “What is osteopathy?”
You’ll get 100 different answers.

Some focus on philosophy.
Some on evidence.
Some on hands-on techniques.
Some on clinical reasoning.

None of them are wrong.
But on their own, they’re not enough.

And that made me stop and think…

- Does it matter that we don’t have a shared definition?
- Does it confuse patients?
- Does it affect how other professionals see us?
- Or is this diversity our strength?

I’ve shared my own thoughts in the video.

But I’m far more interested in yours.

💬 A simple question for all:
If a patient, friend or GP asked you “What is osteopathy?” – how would you answer in ONE sentence?

Even a short, quick answer is really helpful.

I’d especially love to hear from:
– osteopaths
– educators
– students and new grads
– other health professionals who work with osteos
– and people who have experienced osteopathy

Your perspective could help shape how we talk about our profession.

Join me in the comments 👇

01/02/2026

Most people think burnout looks like exhaustion.

In healthcare, it rarely does.

It looks like still showing up.
Still caring.
Still doing the job well.

But with everything feeling heavier than it should.

This video explores the cost of caring for others every day —
the part we rarely name, and even more rarely give ourselves permission to feel.

💬 What part of this did you recognise?

—
💡 Shaped by conversations with clinicians and educators, research that influences how we teach and practice, and the media we consume.

(Shared for reflection and professional education. Not individual healthcare or business advice.)

23/12/2025

It’s the festive season - a time to pause, reflect, and recharge.

Today marked my final day of clinical practice for the year. As I was wrapping up, a client handed me a Christmas card.

A small gesture, but one that stopped me in my tracks.

Reading it reminded me that healthcare is never just about treatment - it’s about trust built over time, feeling truly seen, and being cared for as a whole person.

For those who know, describing osteopathy can be surprisingly difficult, whether to patients, your neighbour or even other health professionals.

But this client captured it perfectly:
“Treating the physical as part of the WHOLE”

It also took me back to something a lecturer once said:
“Osteopathy is more than hands-on care. Sometimes people come because talking is what they need most. People need connection.”

The longer I practise, the more true that feels.

As an osteopath, compassion, kindness, presence, and honesty (even when it’s hard to hear) sit at the heart of my work. Supporting someone isn’t just about manual therapy, education or exercise. It’s about adapting care to their stage of life, listening deeply, treating the whole person, and sometimes sharing a laugh along the way.

I’m incredibly grateful for the trust my clients place in me, and for the privilege of work that genuinely matters. Moments like this are a quiet reminder of why I do what I do.

Wishing everyone peace, health, and happiness this festive season 🎄

What moments this year reminded you why you love what you do?

02/12/2025

💭 Everyone says AI is unsafe in healthcare.
But what if humans are just as unsafe - and no one wants to admit it?

We’re told:
“Don’t trust AI for medical advice- it gets things wrong. Stick with professionals.”
Fair.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: humans don’t give perfect care either.

🩺 A Personal Test
I gave ChatGPT a common scenario: acute low back pain.
Bread-and-butter medicine. Clear evidence. Clear guidelines.

I compared its advice to Australia’s Low Back Pain Clinical Care Standard (2022).

📊 The Result?
No hallucinations. Just… human errors.

What it got right:
- Screened for red flags
- Avoided routine imaging
- Encouraged staying active

That’s standard care - nothing alarming.

Where it fell short:
- Recommended paracetamol (no better than placebo)
- NSAIDs (without enough cautions)
- Suggested stretches, heat/ice (weak evidence)

Not dangerous. Just imperfect -like us.

📉 The Harder Truth
A review of 200,000 patients across 7 countries found:
- 1 in 4 got unnecessary imaging
- Up to 60% were prescribed opioids
- Only 1 in 5 got evidence-based advice

We didn’t create guidelines because care was perfect.
We created them because too often - it isn’t.

Clinicians aren’t incompetent.
We’re tired, rushed, influenced by old habits and system pressures.
We already tolerate imperfection from humans.

❓ So Which Is More Dangerous?
Yes, AI shouldn’t replace clinical judgment.
But the status quo has risks too:
- No care
- Non-evidence-based care
- Unnecessary imaging or opioids

Maybe the question isn’t:
“Is AI safe enough?”
But:
“Can AI help us deliver better care - more consistently?”

Because the gap between ideal and actual care is real - and harmful.

💬 Your Turn
Would you trust AI as one input in clinical decisions?
Are we holding AI to a standard we don’t meet ourselves?

Let’s talk. 👇

—
💡 Inspired by clinical conversations and research.
(Views are my own, shared for education - not personal medical advice. AI-generated image.)

Further reading:
Low Back Pain Clinical Care Standard (2022).
https://lnkd.in/gCt4mdhN

Safe and Responsible Artificial Intelligence https://lnkd.in/g2VpUrAU

26/11/2025

💭 “You don’t look like you’re in that much pain.”

Most patients have heard it.

Most clinicians would never say it.

But research shows… we might still think it.

As osteopaths, we’re trained to look deeper - to read posture, movement, and emotion. But what if our first impressions quietly shape what we believe about a patient’s pain?

A 2016 study asked doctors and medical students to judge the pain of real patients on video. The results were hard to ignore:
- Gender mattered. Female patients were often judged as having less pain -especially if they were seen as less “trustworthy.”
- First impressions shaped belief. How “trustworthy” someone looked (just from their face) changed how believable their pain seemed, particularly for women.
- Experience or empathy didn’t erase bias. Even trained pain clinicians showed these patterns, despite years of practice and empathy.

It’s a humbling reminder: caring deeply isn’t the same as seeing clearly.

💡 Bias isn’t about bad intentions.

It’s about the quiet assumptions we don’t even notice.

As osteopaths, we talk about treating the whole person.

Maybe that starts with looking closer at the filters we bring into the session.

Maybe that starts with being honest about our own blind spots.

I’d love to know 👉 How do you make sure you’re really listening?

—

💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research that shapes how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. Image is AI-generated.)

Research worth reading:
Schäfer, Gráinnea,b; Prkachin, Kenneth M.c; Kaseweter, Kimberley A.c,d; Williams, Amanda C. de Ca,*. Health care providers' judgments in chronic pain: the influence of gender and trustworthiness. PAIN 157(8):p 1618-1625, August 2016. | DOI: 10.1097/j.pain.0000000000000536

25/11/2025

I never thought I’d ask this. But here we are.

Someone with zero medical training goes viral giving health advice to millions… while actual professionals struggle to be heard.

So I’m asking the uncomfortable question:
What are we doing wrong?

Relatable is beating reliable.
We’re in a world where a good TikTok outranks good evidence.
Where volume drowns out value.

Research shows 82% of social media users have seen false or misleading health info - and most can’t tell what’s true.

It often starts innocently: a helpful-sounding tip, a relatable story. But then opinions become facts. Guesses become “expert advice.” And millions listen - not because they’re gullible, but because visibility has replaced credibility.

The consequences? Very real.

In Australia, regulators are scrambling.
In China, non-medical influencers were banned from giving health advice altogether. That’s how serious it’s become.

Meanwhile:
- Graduates aren’t learning what truly matters.
- Experienced professionals burn out and leave.
- Patients feel lost. Trust keeps shrinking.

So what’s the answer?
Not silence. Participation.

What if health professionals became the influencers?
What if evidence competed with anecdotes -and won?
What if truth could trend?

Your degree isn’t pointless. It’s more vital than ever.
But it’s no longer enough on its own.

We need better regulation and better education - yes.
But we also need to show up where attention lives: on phones, on reels, in feeds.

With clarity. With empathy.
With real talk that connects and corrects.

Because silence isn’t protecting anyone.

Expertise matters—if we make it matter.

So here’s my question:

💬 How do we make qualified voices heard again?
Drop a comment. Let’s figure this out together.

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research shaping how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. Image is AI-generated.)

Stimpson, J. P., & Ortega, A. N. (2023). https://lnkd.in/gFv556zg
Yahoo Finance. https://lnkd.in/gDR-ha26
CNET. https://lnkd.in/gQuRmuGf

19/11/2025

We’ve spent years chasing pain scores - celebrating when someone’s number drops from 8 to 4.

But here’s the truth: most people don’t actually want less pain.
They want more life.

Because pain isn’t just physical.
It’s the garden left untended.
The walk cut short.
The “maybe next time” to a friend.

Pain quietly rewrites what daily life looks like.

💡 So we stopped asking,
“How bad is your pain? Rate it out of 10.”
and started asking,
“What does this pain stop you from doing?”

Then we built goals around those answers - and celebrated every win:
✅ Getting off the couch unassisted.
✅ Taking a walk outside.
✅ Dancing for 30 seconds again.

Because sometimes, success isn’t when pain disappears.
It’s when life returns.

When we focus less on symptoms and more on stories, something powerful happens:
💡 People feel seen.
💡 They stop feeling like “patients” - and start feeling like participants.

So I’m curious -
👉 How do you help people move from pain to participation?
Through movement, conversation, connection, or hands-on care?

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research shaping how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice.

Research worth reading:
Seydi, M., Ambrens, M., Delbaere, K., & van Schooten, K. S. (2025). “More Than Intensity: It Is How Pain Affects What I Do”: Unveiling the Multifaceted Impact of Pain in Older People on Daily Life. Journal of Applied Gerontology, 0(0). https://lnkd.in/gpHD68HY)

17/11/2025

Osteopathy in Australia is expanding, yet beneath the growth, something unexpected is happening.

A new survey of 794 osteopaths - including those who’ve left the profession in the past five years - reveals a concerning trend:
- In several states, more osteopaths are exiting than entering
- Practitioners under 35 are the most likely to leave
- Long-established osteopaths are the ones holding the profession together

So what’s driving this?

We often hear about burnout, long hours, or heavy caseloads…
But the data suggests something deeper: systemic issues around professional support, visibility, and value.

What Keeps Osteopaths Practising

They still love the craft.

But What Would Stop Osteos From Leaving?

The factors that matter most for retention:
- Higher remuneration
- Clearer career pathways
- Better work conditions
- More opportunities for growth
- Greater recognition from the wider health community

Replacement Rate: Just 39%

This mirrors patterns across Allied Health.

New graduates feel this most.
Many enter private practice with little structural support, creating uncertainty in their crucial first few years.

But those with under 10 years’ experience feel it too - they’re not immune to leaving the profession.

The Bigger Picture

Osteopathy isn’t just facing burnout.
It’s facing challenges around status, structure, and long-term career sustainability.

If the profession wants to thrive, it needs more than resilience training - it needs systemic investment in its people.

💬 So I’m curious - does this reflect your experience?
If you’re still practising - what keeps you here?
If you’re wavering - what’s pushing and pulling you?
If you’ve stepped away - what made you ultimately leave?

Your story matters.
Sharing it might help shape the future of osteopathy.

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research that shapes how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. Image is AI-generated.)

Research worth reading:
Lathlean, T. et al. (2025) doi:10.1016/j.ijosm.2025.100793.

10/11/2025

That’s how one of my patients described his pain… and honestly, it completely changed how I think about recovery.

This comes from a published osteopathic case study.

Adam had lived with chronic pain for over ten years - describing it as “bone scraping on bone,” “black,” “chomping.”

When he began working with an osteopath trained in ACT - Acceptance and Commitment Therapy - he wanted "tools to fight pain."

But fighting wasn’t working.
Every test looked fine, but he still hurt.

So instead of chasing a physical cause, his practitioner got curious:
- “What are you noticing right now?”
- “What happens when you notice that?”

That’s ACT in action - it explores how we relate to pain, not what’s causing it.

Over time, Adam said, “Pain… it’s no longer who I am. It’s just something I have.”

The pain stayed… but the suffering loosened its grip.

That’s when he started using paradoxes - “locked but loose,” “black but soft.”

At first, confusing. But actually… a sign of flexibility.

Because sometimes, language shifts before the body does.
Those contradictions might mean the mind’s learning to hold two truths at once.

So when someone’s pain language doesn’t make sense - don’t correct it.
Explore it. That might be where healing begins.

💬 So over to you: How do you handle it when a patient’s language doesn’t make sense - explain it, or explore it?

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research shaping how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. “Adam” represents a documented case study: https://lnkd.in/g-EPSyHY . Image is AI-generated.)

05/11/2025

In osteopathy, we’re taught: “Find the tissue causing the symptom.”

But pain doesn’t just live in tissue.
It lives in stories, stress, and context.

Across our profession, two worlds coexist.
One built on structure and dysfunction.
Another grounded in narrative, emotion, and environment.
And many of us are trying to walk that line - torn between fixing bodies and understanding people.

The biopsychosocial model reminds us health comes from biology, psychology, and environment.

But our language? Still stuck in structure.
Hands-on work gets celebrated. Dialogue doesn’t.
We drill HVLA (and exercises) - but psychosocial tools? Rarely modelled.
And quietly, we ask: “If I’m not fixing… who am I?”

Maybe diagnosis can be both - locating tissue and understanding the person.

The BPS model doesn’t replace osteopathy
It expands it.

Sometimes touch helps.
Sometimes movement.
Sometimes, it’s the conversation.

Maybe the shift starts with our first question.
From: “What hurts, and where?”
To: “Tell me your story. What has been happening?”

💬 So I’m curious - how do you open a consultation?

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research that shapes how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. Image is AI-generated.)

03/11/2025

For years, I believed manual therapy was the heart of my practice - the thing that kept people coming back.

Then I started asking one simple question:

“What’s your goal - today, in a month, in three?”

And their answers surprised me.
They didn’t just want treatment.
They wanted understanding, guidance, and tools to take ownership of their health.

That tiny shift in conversation changed everything.
I stopped seeing myself as the fixer - and started being the guide.
Patients began owning their recovery, moving better, living better, feeling better.
And results didn’t just last longer… they meant more.

The resistance? It wasn’t from patients.
It was from us.
Because stepping beyond hands-on care means stepping into the unknown.

Osteopathy’s future isn’t about abandoning touch - it’s about expanding it.
Blending hands-on skill with movement, education, and human connection.

💭 For practitioners: What's held you back from integrating movement or education?

💭 For patients: What's been most helpful in your recovery - hands-on treatment, learning what to do between sessions, or both?

—
💡 Inspired by conversations with clinicians, educators, and research that shapes how we teach and practice.

(Views are my own, shared for professional education and reflection - not individual healthcare advice. Image is AI-generated.)

Osteo Coach

09/02/2026

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