Physiotherapy & Rehabilitation

  Some stories are written not in ink, but in courage — especially when the one suffering knows the science behind the pain. This is the story of a remarkable woman — a doctor by profession and a dancer at heart. Someone who spent her life healing others… until her own foot faltered. A sudden pain. A slight twist. What seemed like a minor injury slowly unfolded into something far more serious — a Lisfranc ligament injury. Subtle, often missed, yet deeply impactful. 🚨 Signs We Shouldn’t Ignore Because missing them once is too costly to repeat. The Lisfranc joint lies in the middle of the foot, where tiny bones and ligaments come together to give us our ability to stand, push off, and balance. Injuries here don’t always come with loud alarms, but they leave deep damage if missed. Here are features that must not be ignored: Persistent midfoot pain, especially after a twist or fall Swelling on the top of the foot that doesn't go down Tenderness when pressing over the middle of the foo...

  Today marks the 7th death anniversary of Sister Lini Puthussery, a name etched in the heart of every healthcare worker in Kerala—and beyond. A young nurse, a devoted mother of two, and a selfless caregiver, Lini lost her life in 2018 after contacting the deadly Nipah virus from a patient she was treating in Perambra, Kozhikode. As a healthcare professional and a mother myself, her story resonates deeply within me. I can feel the weight she must have carried—the invisible battle between duty and motherhood, between protecting her family and fulfilling her calling. She didn’t hesitate. She chose to serve. Her final words, scribbled in a letter to her husband from the isolation ward, still pierce our hearts:  “ I am almost on the way. I don’t think I can meet you again. Sorry. Please take care of our children well. ” That letter was not just a goodbye. It was a symbol of the quiet heroism we often overlook. Sister Lini’s story is not just hers alone. It represents the unspoken ...

  A Memory That Changed Everything I was a teenager when I witnessed my first major accident. One of my friends was hit on the road, and in our panic, we rushed to help—lifting and dragging without any idea of what we might be risking. Now, as a neuro physiotherapist, I understand the gravity of those first few minutes. Our good intentions, if not guided by knowledge, can sometimes do more harm than good. The Alarming Numbers in Our Country India ranks #1 in road accident deaths worldwide, with over 4.6 lakh accidents annually Of those, nearly 1.6 lakh people die, and many others survive with severe spinal cord injuries or traumatic brain injuries (TBI). A significant number of these survivors end up totally dependent, often due to improper handling before they reach medical care. Why Proper Positioning Matters The spine and head are the most vulnerable during an accident. If the neck or back is twisted, tilted, or moved suddenly, it can cause: Spinal cord injury – leading to perma...

  It always starts with the same sound. The alarm. 4:45 AM. The world still sleeps, but I rise—not out of habit, but out of purpose. Divya, the Neurophysiotherapist. The department head. The team anchor. But first—Divya, the traveller. She steps into her shoes like she’s stepping into her armour. A neatly folded dupatta, her ID card swinging like a silent witness to all the mornings she has braved. The street outside hums with faint life as she walks to the bus stop. It’s not glamorous. It never was. The same rust-coloured bus groans to a halt. Same driver, same conductor with a tired smile. She finds her seat, second from the back, right by the window. Not for the view—but for the thinking. For five long years, that journey ended at Edapally. A small centre, a tight space, and a distance—52 kilometres one way. That road became part of her story. She knew every bump, every tree, every tea stall along the route. That’s where she built her foundation—learning, failing, rising, leadin...

  Healing the Healers: A Story from the Therapy Floor It began with a quiet wince. Not from a patient this time, but from one of the therapists on our floor. He rose slowly after a long neuro session, placing a hand at his lower back. I noticed the slight stiffness in his walk, the effort it took him to hide the discomfort. He wasn’t alone. Over the next few days, I began to see the signs in others — tiny pauses, silent stretches between patients, a subtle shift in posture. And then, it happened to me too. A sharp tug in my back after a full day of therapy. That’s when it truly sank in. We — the healers — were hurting. As physiotherapists, we speak the language of movement. We teach recovery, strength, and flexibility. But in our dedication to others, we had slowly stopped listening to our own bodies. Within my team, four of us were now dealing with pain. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was persistent. Paraspinal spasms, tight hamstrings and glutes, stubborn piriformis tension, a pullin...

Some moments in life come quietly, unexpectedly — yet they stay with you forever. They don’t arrive with grand announcements. They simply show up, touch your heart, and leave behind a memory that warms your soul for a long, long time. It was a regular afternoon at work. I had just finished lunch and was walking back to the department with a few of my team members. We were chatting casually, and everything felt like any other day — predictable, routine. On the way, I happened to see one of our doctors and paused for a quick conversation about a patient's rehabilitation progress. We discussed the usual — goals, improvements, functional milestones — the rhythm of my professional life that I know so well. And then, everything shifted in a moment I never saw coming. Just as the conversation ended and I turned back toward my team, one of them walked up to me, holding something behind her back. With a shy, almost nervous smile, she brought forward a single rose bouquet and softly said, ...

Digital Dementia: A Wake-Up Call for Movement and Mindfulness In today’s digital age, devices dominate our routines. While they boost productivity and connectivity, overuse can lead to digital dementia—a term coined by neuroscientist Manfred Sppitzer to describe cognitive decline linked to excessive screen time. But the issue goes beyond the mind—physiotherapists must recognize its physical impact too. 1.Posture and Pain Prolonged screen use often leads to poor posture—forward head, rounded shoulders, and slouched backs. These changes not only cause pain but also reduce lung capacity and oxygen flow to the brain, impairing cognitive function. Physiotherapy interventions like posture training and targeted exercises can help restore alignment and brain health. 2. Sedentary Lifestyle and Neuroplasticity         Digital overload reduces physical activity, which in turn limits cerebral blood flow and weakens neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to adapt and grow. Constant ...

    In recent times, news headlines have been dominated by stories revolving around MDMA—its use, abuse, and the rising curiosity it sparks among our youth. As a Neuro physiotherapist, I couldn’t ignore the growing relevance of this trend. What drives young minds toward such substances? What really happens to the brain under its influence? These questions led me down a path of exploration—not just out of professional curiosity, but also out of a deep concern for the future of our generation. In this blog, I share insights from my studies and clinical experience to uncover the complex relationship between MDMA and the brain’s ability to heal, adapt, and sometimes, break.  It was a quiet evening, and as I was reading yet another fascinating article on neuroplasticity, a thought struck me: what really happens to our brain when it’s exposed to substances like MDMA? As someone who has spent years working in neurorehabilitation, I’ve seen firsthand how fragile, yet resilie...

Every once in a while, a story finds you — not by chance, but like a whisper to your soul. It reminds you why you chose the path you’re on, why you wake up every day and pour your energy into people who are silently fighting the biggest battles of their lives. Recently, I read about a 13-year-old Malayali girl from Qatar whose incredible journey of overcoming cerebral palsy moved me deeply. Born prematurely, her chances of survival were uncertain. In fact, by the time she was just two months old, the doctors had already reconsidered their words — because by then, she had shown signs of a quiet, undeniable will to live. Diagnosed with cerebral palsy, her life could have been defined by limitations. But instead, it became a story of possibilities. Each milestone she reached was not just a personal victory but a message to the world: that strength isn’t always loud; sometimes, it’s quiet determination. What moved me most is not just her resilience, but her joy — the way she sm...

 Today, I had a quiet moment that stayed with me longer than usual. A mother sat beside me—her son, now our patient, was once a footballer, a karate student,a passionate dancer, and an artist. She smiled while showing me videos of his performances, paintings filled with color and life, and glimpses of a boy who once danced through life with fearless joy. Her pride sparkled through her eyes, even as they carried a quiet pain. Her son is around the same age as my daughter. That hit me deeper than I expected. He’s here for rehabilitation after a brain aneurysm—a sudden turn that changed everything. And yet, I saw in her a mother’s steady strength, and in him, a boy still brimming with untapped potential. My goals for him aren’t just clinical. I want him to walk again, on his own. To hold a brush and create beauty. To dance with rhythm and joy. To return to the football field where he belongs. He’s undergoing Occupational Therapy, Physiotherapy, and Clinical Psychology. Each day is a...