What Three Healthcare Systems Taught Me About True Care

What Three Healthcare Systems Taught Me About True Care

Working across three countries — Germany, Sweden, and Australia — has taught me that while healthcare systems differ in structure, paperwork, and funding models, what truly matters in care is how we see the human being in front of us.

I grew up in Germany, watching my mother, a paediatric physiotherapist, help families navigate the challenges of raising children with disabilities.
I often treated the parents — mostly mothers carrying the invisible weight of exhaustion, guilt, and love. After a session, they’d sigh in relief and thank me. I could ease their tension for a moment, but deep down I knew I was only touching the surface.

That realisation planted a lifelong question:

What does it really mean to care for someone?

In Sweden, I found a system built on prevention and trust.
Care wasn’t something you gave; it was something you built together. Collaboration between physios, GPs, psychologists, and occupational therapists was normal, and the focus was always on helping people take back responsibility for their own health.

I was introduced to Exercise on Prescription (FaR®)—a program in which healthcare providers prescribe physical activity to inactive patients. It’s backed by 20 years of data showing that over 50% of participants became more active in the long term.
It was the first time I saw care as empowerment — not dependency.

Then came Australia, where I completed two master’s degrees in Musculoskeletal and Sports Physiotherapy.

Here I discovered the biopsychosocial model and pain science, the work of Lorimer Moseley and David Butler — a framework that finally explained why some people recover and others don’t. Pain isn’t only physical; it’s shaped by emotion, belief, and experience.

But I also encountered another reality: a system in which KPIs and sales targets often sit alongside patient care. My first interview was all about numbers, not people — I almost walked away.

Until I met mentors who proved that care and business don’t have to be opposites. You can build a sustainable practice without losing your humanity.

Across all three systems, my philosophy crystallised:

Care is not what we do to people.
It’s what we create with them.

In Sweden, we call it moving people from sick care (sjukvård) to health care (hälsovård) — a simple idea, but profound. It means helping people move from dependency to self-efficacy. From fear to trust.

That’s how I practise today:
I want every person I see to understand their pain, to feel capable, and to trust their body again.

Because proper care isn’t about fixing. It isn't just the treatment of the structure. Care isn’t just following a treatment plan. It’s a relationship that builds trust, awareness, and hope and puts the power back in the patient's hands.