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Navigating the Challenges of Medical Communication
Tuesday 23 July 2024
Today, I found myself in the familiar confines of a doctor's office, armed with a list of concerns I wanted to address. My primary goal was to update my medical history to include my post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and a few other recent developments. Keeping my records current is crucial—especially when other specialists enter the picture and with a surgery upcoming.
This doctor is someone I’ve met with regularly, and not long ago, we had a candid conversation about my PTSD and the cause of it (the horrible treatment I received in a local hospital this year).
So, when I stepped into the office today, I expected at least a foundational understanding between us when I brought it back up. However, the interaction quickly took an unexpected turn. When I mentioned my PTSD, the response was a perplexing, "PTSD from what?"
In that moment, I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. It’s understandable that medical professionals juggle an extensive roster of patients, but the interaction reminded me how easy it is to feel like just another number rather than an individual with a unique story and a continuous journey of healing.
Experiencing PTSD is not just a clinical label; it's a complex emotional struggle. Each time I must revisit my symptoms and the cause of the PTSD, it can feel like I'm peeling back layers of trauma, exposing myself again and again to those difficult memories.
The expectation for a straightforward conversation often collides with the reality of reliving painful experiences.
Today I begrudgingly recognized the embarrassment that bubbled up—It’s a common sentiment among those grappling with not only mental health issues but chronic illness. We often find ourselves battling not only the symptoms of our conditions but also the stigma, misunderstandings, and sometimes, we the lack of awareness from those we rely on for care. We often feel unheard, unseen or like a burden or another problem to deal with.
Those with chronic illness also feel that they are not believed. They often feel like those around them think that they are ‘being dramatic’ and often are told this.
The majority of the time, we don’t fit the textbook teachings and because we don’t have textbook symptoms and situations, we are not believed and it makes you feel small when you hear some of the comments. For us it is real and it is happening and it is hard, regardless of other people's opinions. It is just a punch in the gut when the attitude comes from the very people who's job it is to help you.
Sometimes it is not help you receive, but harm. However it was intended.
This is something that is harmful and makes those living with these conditions feel unheard, unwanted and alone.
This isn't to cast blame entirely on my doctor; this person is usually very good at dealing with my complex needs and has done a lot to help me. I understand the hectic daily pace of medical practice. Yet, it serves as a poignant reminder that continuity of care extends beyond clinical notes. Establishing rapport and empathy in medical environments is vital, especially when dealing with sensitive issues.
What seems like a small thing to one person, could be a massive thing for someone else. Watch your attitude, and your words. One day it could be you, or a loved one who is treated this way. How would you want to be treated?
When conversations shift from clear and easy check-ins to needing to revisit difficult topics, it can feel like an additional issue. Patients crave acknowledgment and understanding of their journey; the last thing we want is to feel like we are starting from scratch every time we step into a consultation room.
For anyone facing a similar situation, know that you are not alone. It's challenging to be vulnerable and revisit painful experiences in what should be a collaborative space for healing. Yet, it's vital to keep pushing forward, articulating your needs clearly and ensuring that your history is recognized as part of your overall care. No matter the issue or feelings, be it physical, emotional or other.
It is important to have your say and to be heard. Although, I know that in the moment, it can be difficult. I struggled myself today to respond. It is easy to think of a response, after the fact.
Collectively, we can work towards an environment where dialogue flows freely, understanding deepens, and stigma diminishes. We can learn from each other’s lived experience and we can work towards understanding and kindness. To do this, we need everyone onboard. From primary care physicians to nurses, hospital doctors and patients. People would need to learn compassion and kindness for this to work. There is a world outside of your own bubble and kindness is key. You don't know what the person you are talking to is dealing with, they may be a breath away from breaking down.
In the complex landscape of healthcare, advocating for oneself and for others (when and if you can) is critical.
Though today was frustrating, it is a call to action—not just for me but for others in similar circumstances—to continue striving for compassionate and informed care that acknowledges our full human experience.
I wish for a world where vulnerable people are not gaslighted, ignored or caused distress by professionals, where people are kind, no matter who they are dealing with and where everyone feels heard and wanted.
x Tab
Tuesday 23 July 2024
Today, I found myself in the familiar confines of a doctor's office, armed with a list of concerns I wanted to address. My primary goal was to update my medical history to include my post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and a few other recent developments. Keeping my records current is crucial—especially when other specialists enter the picture and with a surgery upcoming.
This doctor is someone I’ve met with regularly, and not long ago, we had a candid conversation about my PTSD and the cause of it (the horrible treatment I received in a local hospital this year).
So, when I stepped into the office today, I expected at least a foundational understanding between us when I brought it back up. However, the interaction quickly took an unexpected turn. When I mentioned my PTSD, the response was a perplexing, "PTSD from what?"
In that moment, I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. It’s understandable that medical professionals juggle an extensive roster of patients, but the interaction reminded me how easy it is to feel like just another number rather than an individual with a unique story and a continuous journey of healing.
Experiencing PTSD is not just a clinical label; it's a complex emotional struggle. Each time I must revisit my symptoms and the cause of the PTSD, it can feel like I'm peeling back layers of trauma, exposing myself again and again to those difficult memories.
The expectation for a straightforward conversation often collides with the reality of reliving painful experiences.
Today I begrudgingly recognized the embarrassment that bubbled up—It’s a common sentiment among those grappling with not only mental health issues but chronic illness. We often find ourselves battling not only the symptoms of our conditions but also the stigma, misunderstandings, and sometimes, we the lack of awareness from those we rely on for care. We often feel unheard, unseen or like a burden or another problem to deal with.
Those with chronic illness also feel that they are not believed. They often feel like those around them think that they are ‘being dramatic’ and often are told this.
The majority of the time, we don’t fit the textbook teachings and because we don’t have textbook symptoms and situations, we are not believed and it makes you feel small when you hear some of the comments. For us it is real and it is happening and it is hard, regardless of other people's opinions. It is just a punch in the gut when the attitude comes from the very people who's job it is to help you.
Sometimes it is not help you receive, but harm. However it was intended.
This is something that is harmful and makes those living with these conditions feel unheard, unwanted and alone.
This isn't to cast blame entirely on my doctor; this person is usually very good at dealing with my complex needs and has done a lot to help me. I understand the hectic daily pace of medical practice. Yet, it serves as a poignant reminder that continuity of care extends beyond clinical notes. Establishing rapport and empathy in medical environments is vital, especially when dealing with sensitive issues.
What seems like a small thing to one person, could be a massive thing for someone else. Watch your attitude, and your words. One day it could be you, or a loved one who is treated this way. How would you want to be treated?
When conversations shift from clear and easy check-ins to needing to revisit difficult topics, it can feel like an additional issue. Patients crave acknowledgment and understanding of their journey; the last thing we want is to feel like we are starting from scratch every time we step into a consultation room.
For anyone facing a similar situation, know that you are not alone. It's challenging to be vulnerable and revisit painful experiences in what should be a collaborative space for healing. Yet, it's vital to keep pushing forward, articulating your needs clearly and ensuring that your history is recognized as part of your overall care. No matter the issue or feelings, be it physical, emotional or other.
It is important to have your say and to be heard. Although, I know that in the moment, it can be difficult. I struggled myself today to respond. It is easy to think of a response, after the fact.
Collectively, we can work towards an environment where dialogue flows freely, understanding deepens, and stigma diminishes. We can learn from each other’s lived experience and we can work towards understanding and kindness. To do this, we need everyone onboard. From primary care physicians to nurses, hospital doctors and patients. People would need to learn compassion and kindness for this to work. There is a world outside of your own bubble and kindness is key. You don't know what the person you are talking to is dealing with, they may be a breath away from breaking down.
In the complex landscape of healthcare, advocating for oneself and for others (when and if you can) is critical.
Though today was frustrating, it is a call to action—not just for me but for others in similar circumstances—to continue striving for compassionate and informed care that acknowledges our full human experience.
I wish for a world where vulnerable people are not gaslighted, ignored or caused distress by professionals, where people are kind, no matter who they are dealing with and where everyone feels heard and wanted.
x Tab
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copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page.
Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.
