FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Today’s story unfolds here in La Ciotat, near this lush, green former agricultural estate, now the Parc du Domaine de la Tour...

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TODAY'S WORD: le/la kiné

    : physical therapist

PRONUNCIATION: [kee-nay]

EXAMPLE SENTENCE:
Le kiné français avait deux assistants—tous deux étaient des chiens.
The French physical therapist had two assistants—both were dogs.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

When my mobile phone rang, I picked up to hear a sunny voice on the other end. "Hey, Mom. Want to have lunch together at the port?"

"Hi, Max! I would have loved to, but I have an appointment at la kiné! And hey, next time you go to St. Tropez, take me along," I said, remembering his wine delivery there yesterday.

My son laughed. "Next time!"

I said goodbye, gathered ma carte vitale, mes clés, et mes lunettes, and set off to my physical therapist's office. I enjoyed the walk, which took me through our neighborhood, past the local lycée and across a municipal park. There, nestled among a cluster of apartment buildings, was the only medical cabinet in an otherwise residential space. Above the entrance, a fluffy white cat stretched on a balcony beside some hanging laundry drying in the sun. I punched in the key code, made my way past several private apartments, and entered the cozy setup, which felt more like a friend’s living room than a clinic.

"Bonjour," my kiné said, greeting me with a pair of bats perched humorously on her head—a funny contrast, given the serious demeanor French healthcare workers typically maintain. A moment later, two dogs dressed as goblins trotted over. Hector, a Border Collie mix, and Maika, a Cavalier King Charles, wagged their queues as they greeted me. Once they recognized the patient, they settled back into their respective beds beneath the therapy table where I now rested.

My kiné studied the graph on the screen beside her, instructing me when to relax and contract. Respirez… Serrez… respirez… serrez." And so began another 20-minute session to “re-educate le périnée”…

In France, when a woman gives birth, she’s offered—courtesy of the French healthcare system—ten sessions of physical therapy with a kinésithérapeute to help her recover. But back when I had Max, at the age of 27, new to France, I didn’t understand what rééducation périnéale was, let alone what it entailed. And with a baby to care for, I skipped it altogether. Now, thirty years later, I regret that decision—a choice I was reminded of on our recent family cruise when a mini health crisis sent me straight from the ship to the doctor’s office.

As I lay there, feeling the device contract my muscles, I winced. It wasn’t intolerable, but it wasn’t sans douleur either. I breathed out, relaxing, when the soft snoring from one of the dogs helped lull me into a reverie. 

My mind drifted to memories of other atypical healthcare offices in France...Like the dentist’s in Lille. Back in 1989, during a university exchange program in the north of France, un mal de dent sent me to the neighborhood tooth slayer. I remember setting out after dark for my 6:30 p.m. appointment—an unusual time for a dental procedure by American standards. But that wasn’t the only surprise. When I rang the bell, I was startled to be at a private home. 

"Bonjour," a man said, and just as I was about to respond, in elementary French, that I must have the wrong address. "Entrez," he said, gesturing me inside.

I followed the older man past a dining room, where a table was set for dinner. There was even a bottle of wine on the table and everywhere, antique furniture. In the back, lights glowed in the kitchen, illuminating a woman cooking at the stove. The aroma of stewed meat made me salivate—dinner in France was much later than back home. Soon I’d return to my host family’s for another delicious meal that Madame Bassimon was cooking. But not before the dentist—if that’s who this was—treated my toothache. Just where was that going to happen? Dans la cuisine?

Le monsieur of a certain age creaked open a door just off the living room, revealing an exam room complete with a reclining chair. “Asseyez-vous,” he gestured. I sat back and stared nervously at le plafond. Back home in Phoenix, my dentist’s ceiling was covered in cartoons and humorous images, a distraction to keep patients relaxed. Here in Lille, in this ancient building, the ceiling was also plastered—but with ornate, centuries-old moldings that were equally distracting. My eyes traced the swirling lines when suddenly I heard the drill and the command, “Ouvrez la bouche!” But the dentist had not given me a shot to numb the area. Just what kind of dentist was this? Help! Au secours!!

Back in the present, at my kiné’s office in La Ciotat, the sound of “the drill from Lille” fades into a soft snore as I wake from my reverie to the hum of ronflements. Two furry goblins beneath the PT table stir on hearing the familiar words. "Ça va? Tout va bien?" The session was over.

I looked up at the woman with the bats on her head. “Oui, ça va. Merci. Everything was fine—just as it had been at the dentist’s all those years ago.” Somehow, getting a tooth filled without Novocain was possible, just as it’s possible for a healthcare office in France to feel as familiar as home. There’s a certain charm to that, and maybe—just maybe—it’s this charm that takes the edge off the pain.//

Photo: Maika and Hector leave the kiné's office to greet the next patient.

COMMENTS
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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Audio File Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French

le/la kiné = physical therapist
la carte vitale = health insurance card
la clé = key
les lunettes = glasses
le lycée = high school
le cabinet = doctor’s office
Bonjour = hello
la queue = tail
Respirez = breathe
Serrez = squeeze, tighten
le périnée = perineum, pelvic muscle
le/la kinésithérapeute = physical therapist
la rééducation périnéale = perineal re-education, pelvic floor therapy
sans douleur = without pain
un mal de dent = toothache
Entrez = come in
dans la cuisine = in the kitchen
le Monsieur = the man
Asseyez-vous = sit down
le plafond = ceiling
Ouvrez la bouche = open your mouth
au secours! = help!
le ronflement = snore
Ça va? = are you okay?
Tout va bien = everything is okay
Oui = yes
Merci = thank you

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WORDS IN A FRENCH LIFE: LESSONS IN LOVE & LANGUAGE

Have you had a chance to read my first collection of stories? Much like today’s post, it captures many of my earliest encounters with the French way of life. If you’ve already read it, I would greatly appreciate your help in reviewing it through this link. Merci!

Have a wonderful weekend. See you in two weeks! (photo taken near La Route des Crêtes in La Ciotat).