Twelve questions to ask before you hire a practitioner
Posted by Julie Samson in Mindset on February 9, 2026 · 6 min read
I spent thousands learning these the expensive way. Ask them on the discovery call, before you pay for anything.
Chronic illness makes you an easy customer. You are tired, you are scared, and someone confident is offering a map. These are the questions I now ask before I hand anyone my credit card.
- What does your typical first ninety days look like with someone like me?
- How many supplements do clients usually start with?
- How do you decide when to add something versus when to wait?
- What do you do when a client reacts badly to your recommendation?
- Do you sell the supplements you recommend, and does that affect your margin?
- How do you handle histamine reactivity specifically?
- Do you work with menstrual cycles when timing changes?
- What testing do you require, and what will you do differently based on the results?
- What is included between calls, and what is your response time?
- Have you worked with mold exposure that is still ongoing?
- What would make you refer me out or tell me you are not the right fit?
- What does finishing look like?
The best answer I ever got to the last question was: my goal is that you stop needing me. Hire that person.
Red flags for me now: a fixed protocol before intake, urgency about buying today, dismissiveness about reactions, and anyone who cannot describe what success looks like without them.
A reminder: I am not a medical professional. This is my experience, written down in case it makes yours less lonely — not a protocol, not advice, and definitely not a substitute for working with someone qualified.
More posts
- The apartment that made me sick (and the four years it took to figure it out) (Mold)
- Histamine intolerance is not an allergy — here is how I explain it at dinner (Histamine)
- Every supplement I tried in four years: helped, did nothing, made me worse (Histamine)
Slow Healing Letters
One letter, most Sundays — what I'm eating, reading, and quietly changing. Roughly 900 words and a recipe. No protocols, no urgency, nothing you have to buy.