The Power of Listening, Reassurance, and the Right Conversation
What I Wish More Surgeons Said (and Did)
Sometimes, the most powerful thing we can say to a patient is:
“You’re not broken.”
But far too often, people walk out of appointments with fear instead of clarity.
They hear phrases like “bone on bone,” “degeneration,” “tear,” or “you’ll need a new knee soon” — and they assume the worst. They stop moving. They stop doing what they love. Not because they can’t, but because no one told them they still could.
I can’t predict when you’ll need a new knee. I tried for years and never came close. As I talk about in my book, our images do not help us predict when a joint might need to be replaced. Biology is complex… X-rays or an MRI only tell part of the story.
Here’s what I wish more surgeons said:
“Pain doesn’t always mean damage.”
“Arthritis isn’t a life sentence.”
“You have options beyond surgery.”
“Strength, movement, health, and education can change your trajectory.”
“Let’s talk about what matters to you — not just what your MRI shows.”
But it’s not just about the words. It’s about how we listen.
Medical visits have become too fast. High-tech, low-touch. Full of data, short on dialogue.
Sometimes we don’t need more tests — we need more time, better questions, and honest reassurance.
Because many patients aren’t in our offices just for pain.
They’re there because they’re scared.
Scared that a mild ache means something is seriously wrong.
Scared they’ll make things worse by staying active.
Scared that their body is failing them.
These patients don’t always need to see images.
They need to be seen.
Let me tell you about Bill.
Bill’s a runner — not for medals or marathons, but because it keeps him whole. He came to me after being told by another doctor that he had a meniscus tear. The advice? “No surgery needed.”
But no one said what to do next.
So he stopped. Cold. For six months, he didn’t run — not because of pain, but because of fear.
When we finally talked, the conversation was different. We focused on what mattered to him, not just what the scan showed. Many runners have meniscus tears and don’t even know it. Many of these tears will not progress, and a runner can assume that they can return to running once reasonably comfortable.
Bill got back on the trails. He’s been running strong for the past seven months.
He came in recently after a fall injured his shoulder, and smiled when he told me:
“That conversation changed everything.”
This is what we miss when we don’t listen or don’t offer a more detailed explanation.
Surgery is a powerful tool. But so are empathy, education, and reassurance.
When people feel seen, understood, and empowered, outcomes improve.
With or without the scalpel.