Patients Need to "Listen" to a Doctor's Body Language
At a conference I attended not long ago, there were about a dozen speakers who approached their speaking tasks differently. Some stood behind a podium on a stage, others wandered among the audience members....
One doctor didn't do either. He was, let's just say, less than enthusiastic about his topic or the audience. At least that's what his body language told me.
Why? Because he sat slouched in a chair, on the stage, one foot stuck out from the chair, leaning against the back of it, twirling the microphone as if it was a pencil or some other object he was expected to use but really had no interest in. He was one of two doctors sharing that particular topic and when he could, he handed off the microphone to the other. His interest level was scarcely above nil.
Many audience members would tell you he wasn't very interested, because he was so quiet. Instead, I would tell you he was shouting
"I'M BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU. I HAVE NO INTEREST IN ANY OF YOU. I'M WASTING MY TIME HERE. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T CALL ME TO BE YOUR DOCTOR."
Last week, after suffering two weeks of upper-respiratory something-or-another, I finally went to my primary care doctor to see if I had more than just a cold. I was prepared with dates and times and symptoms and a list of exactly what over-the-counter drugs I had taken to that point. And it turns out that yes, I was sicker. I blogged about my experience a few days ago, but the real takeaway from my appointment was, once again, body language. My doctor was in a huge hurry. I was so sick I couldn't keep my head up. She rushed from the room, telling me "I need to get something, I'll be back in a minute." And then, I never saw her again.
But was she silent? Yes, in terms of the questions I had. The LPN showed up with prescription for two drugs, and an order for a chest x-ray, but I had no one who could answer my questions about the drugs, no one who could tell me what to expect. No one to tell me what my prognosis was.... In this case, despite the fact that she had disappeared, my primary care doctor was shouting, too.
"I'M TOO BUSY FOR YOU. I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS. YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO FIGURE THIS OUT FOR YOURSELF. YOU AREN'T WORTH ANYMORE OF MY TIME."
In the case of the first doctor -- who cares? He was an expert in a certain type of treatment his audience was looking for, but they can find other doctors. If he treats his own patients that way? That's another story, but they will need to be the ones to step up.
But in the case of my primary care? Despite feeling as lousy as I did, I stood there and asked other members of her staff until I got the answers I needed. Yes, I listened to my doctor's body language, but frankly, I didn't let it stand between me and the information I needed. What I heard from my doctor was that I may have to go looking for another doctor who doesn't shout quite so loudly telling me how unimportant I am.
Unfortunately, yes, this is what we empowered patients must do to get the information and attention we need. No, I'm not suggesting we ask for more than we deserve. There's no sense in wasting any provider's time by being unprepared for an appointment. I was prepared. She was not responsive.
But if you aren't getting the answers you need, then make sure you are shouting, too. Not literally, of course! But don't just walk away. Ask the others on staff. Call back if you must. Be persistent. It's your turn to shout,
"YOU ARE A SERVICE PROVIDER. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT. I NEED YOU TO EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE. BE MY DOCTOR, DO YOUR JOB, AND BE FAIR."
Because silence can be dangerous.
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