An Ounce of Prevention Is Worth a Pound of Cure

I was out at my mom's farm this past weekend helping her make pickles when I heard a cat crying out. I immediately went outside and found one of the kittens stuck in the patio table. Somehow, he had managed to wedge his leg between two of the metal bars and couldn't get himself free.

My brain immediately went: help little kitten.

So, naturally, I went to help the little kitten.

Now, my mom's cats are mostly feral. They're farm cats. She keeps them around to help control the mouse population, and while they're fed and looked after, they're definitely not cuddly little house cats. They also tend to be a little on the sickly side. But none of that was particularly relevant to my brain in that moment because there was a scared kitten stuck in a table, and obviously I was going to help him.

If you have ever dealt with an injured animal, you probably know exactly where this story is going.

The kitten was hurt. He was trapped. He was terrified. And he was feral.

So he bit me.

Honestly? A very reasonable response by the kitten.

I got some help and eventually we got him out of the table. He might be limping for a while, but he seems like he's going to recover. As soon as we had him free, my mom informed me that this particular kitten was apparently her "nastiest little kitten" and had already earned himself a reputation for being a bit of a jerk.

Useful information. Perhaps information I could have used five minutes earlier.

Thankfully, the bites themselves weren't terrible. I immediately cleaned everything really well and kept the wounds covered. But if you know anything about cat bites, you know they are notorious for getting infected. Their little teeth can create deep puncture wounds that introduce bacteria beneath the skin, and an infection can go from seemingly fine to decidedly not fine surprisingly quickly. Add in the fact that this was a somewhat sickly feral farm kitten, and I wasn't particularly interested in waiting around to see what happened.

It was the weekend, and everything looked okay, but I decided pretty quickly that I was going to get an antibiotic as soon as I could. I'd much rather take a short course of an oral antibiotic now than end up needing IV antibiotics—or dealing with something like a serious infection involving the hand or bone—later.

And that got me thinking about the phrase I hear a lot while in school:

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

Because taking that oral antibiotic was preventative in one sense. I was trying to prevent a small bite from turning into a much bigger infection that required significantly more aggressive treatment.

But you know what would have been even better prevention?

Putting on some damn gloves before I picked up the feral kitten.

And that, strangely enough, is a pretty good metaphor for how I think about naturopathic medicine.

So much of healthcare happens once something has already gone wrong. And thank goodness we have it. I want to be incredibly clear here: this story is not an argument against conventional medicine or medication. I was very grateful to have access to an antibiotic. Modern medicine can be lifesaving, and there are absolutely times when the appropriate answer is medication, surgery, emergency care, or whatever intervention the situation requires.

But what if we could prevent some of those situations from happening in the first place?

That's the part of naturopathic medicine I wish more people understood.

A lot of people don't seek out naturopathic care until they feel like they've exhausted their other options. They've been struggling for years, they've tried multiple medications, they're frustrated, and now they're looking for something different. And yes, there is absolutely a place for us there.

But naturopathic medicine can also shine long before you reach that point.

I love when someone comes to see me in their twenties or thirties and doesn't have a giant list of health problems. Maybe their periods are a little heavier than they'd like. Maybe they're getting headaches. Maybe their digestion isn't great. Maybe they're tired more often than they think they should be. Or maybe they're actually doing pretty well and they simply say, "I want to stay healthy."

Perfect.

Let's work with that.

Let's talk about how you're eating and whether it's actually supporting your body. Let's make sure you're moving in ways that build strength, mobility, balance, and cardiovascular health. Let's talk about sleep. Stress. Digestion. Hormones. The things you're doing every day that seem incredibly small right now but compound over decades.

Let's teach you how to take care of the minor things, too. Maybe that's knowing which foods tend to make your digestion feel better or worse. Maybe it's knowing what herbs or simple home remedies you can reach for when you're dealing with something minor like occasional gas or bloating or a cold. Maybe it's learning what your body feels like when it's functioning well so you notice when something starts to change.

I want to be the gloves.

Because prevention isn't just catching disease early. Sometimes prevention means creating the conditions that make disease less likely to develop in the first place.

Imagine learning how to eat for your body when you're 25, rather than waiting until you're dealing with significant metabolic dysfunction years later. Imagine learning how to lift weights safely in your forties so you're still strong in your seventies. Imagine working on balance, muscle mass, and bone health decades before a fall or a fracture becomes one of your biggest health risks. Imagine learning how to move your body well now so you're protecting your back, your joints, and your independence later.

Of course, none of this gives us complete control over our health. People who do everything "right" can still get sick. Genetics matter. Environment matters. Accidents happen. Bodies are complicated, and sometimes life hands you the equivalent of a feral kitten with very sharp teeth no matter how careful you've been.

Prevention isn't a promise that nothing bad will ever happen.

It's simply asking: What can we reasonably do now to make the future a little easier on you?

Sometimes the answer is an IV antibiotic because things have gotten serious. Sometimes it's an oral antibiotic before they do.

And sometimes it's putting on the damn gloves before you pick up the kitten.

I'd really like to help you with the gloves part.