The Real Question Is
Have you ever asked someone a question, but another question lurks behind that one?
And the second question is the bigger, deeper, more important one, but you don’t know that or don't have access to it in that moment?
I went to see an orthopedic doctor last week.
After a year of struggling with tennis elbow, I am at my wit’s end.
Lateral epicondylitis is not easily healed—and surgery is not desirable. I wanted to know if I have any other options besides the dozen I have tried, including physical therapy, ARP treatment, Graston, laser, acupuncture, dry needling, and so on.
The doctor gave me a few suggestions—including doubling down on supplements like Vitamin D, turmeric, and Omega 3s. But other than suggesting an MRI, he didn’t have a lot to offer.
He asked, “Any other questions?”
I said, “Yes—I have one.”
And I asked him my first question.
“I have been e-biking lately, and it makes my elbow a bit achy afterwards. Is that okay for me to be doing?”
What was his response?
“I hate e-bikes,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I think they make people lazy.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I totally disagree,” I said. We bike 20 miles at a time, up and down many hilly roads from one town to the next—and in about 90 minutes. We get a great workout.”
He did not look convinced.
“Plus,” I added, “I keep my bike on eco-mode, so I get very little help unless I’m going up a giant hill and I need more assistance.”
“I still think they make people lazy,” he said again.
Well, I thought, dear doctor, you are missing the point.
Ever have that happen to you, where someone is so focused on their own perspective or own story that they don’t hear the question behind the question you are asking?
As in, “If my elbow hurts a little, is it okay I am doing this other sport that brings me joy?” And “Is my elbow ever going to be okay?” And perhaps, “Am I going to be able to play tennis again?”
Meanwhile, this educated and seasoned doctor was still going on about bikes. “I have an e-bike,” he continued. “And I miss my other bike. If I have only one, I want it to be a regular bike.”
“Well, maybe just you are lazy on your e-bike,” I said to him, half smiling.
He didn’t laugh.
I know it’s hard on doctors. They sail from one appointment to the next, trying to address significant diagnoses in 15 minutes at a time, dealing with patients who don’t always do what we should—all while working within a crazy and broken healthcare system.
But if he listened to the questions behind what I was saying, his job could have been easier.
I was looking for guidance.
Reassurance.
Encouragement.
“Stay with it,” he could have said. “If you feel like you are 80 percent there, stick to the plan. If you are making progress, don’t give up yet.”
And how about “Yes, do whatever biking you can as long as you aren't getting piercing pain. Any exercise is good exercise!”
This doctor didn't know that I rode an e-bike up the rock of Gibraltar (that's the rock on the Prudential logo). A woman actually broke her arm on that trip because it was so challenging. And I have e-biked the hills of Marseilles and almost half the length of the island of Corsica.
The day before my appointment, when we were biking six miles of rock-and root-covered trails for two hours straight, I had to get off and push my 54-pound bike several times up and down some treacherous hills.
Lazy?
No. Maybe crazy, but certainly not lazy.
The experience made me wonder how many times people ask me a question that I answer on the surface. How many times do I miss a deeper and more important question that is lurking? How many times do I miss what is not being said?
Or how frequently do I not see or hear the human being who is standing before me?
I know my elbow will be okay.
My PT says it will.
Eventually.
And it is getting better.
I found myself a different doctor. Hopefully one with a more open heart.
In the meantime, if you see me out somewhere on my e-bike with friends, please cheer us on.
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