Health Interpersonal Communications - Blog #6 (COM 616)

I’ve been fortunate enough as a young adult to have only been ill a few times in my life. Most doctors visits are due to the occasional strep diagnosis or annual check up, however, when I was 6 years old, I was brought in on some tests for my anosmia (inability to smell). What they understood to be simple tests was a complete shocker to a 6 year old girl, who’s view of healthcare was relatively slim.

In our text, Arnett, Fritz, and Bell explains that, “health care communications ethics understands health not in what happens to us, but in our response to that which meets us (p. 195).” As a 6 year old, it was hard for me to see an MRI machine as anything other than intimidating. It was explained to me under the assumption I had done it all before. They explained to me how the process would happen and what they were going to do (essentially “take pictures”). They told me how long it would take and even asked if I wanted to play some music to try to drown out the hammer-like noise that would be beating my ear drums. The communication to me, although simple to the doctors and even for my parents, was far above my understanding and ultimately led to me having a panic attack inside the MRI and almost breaking some of the equipment trying to get out to my parents.

This response to the physician’s explanation, and subsequent testing, was driven not by their lack of knowledge or the intent, but by their lack of an explanation of “why.” As our text refers, the “how” often isn’t as important as the “why” in health communication ethics. If i had been told “why” I had to undergo the MRI and what exactly they were looking for (outside of “pictures of my brain”), I would have understood the importance. Luckily, in this instance, I had a chance to see both sides.

About two days after this appointment, I went in for a follow up. The images taken before (after my first freak out), were not conclusive and they brought me in for a second round. This time, there was a different medical assistant and nurse in the room. I vividly remember the medical assistant notice me shaking and she walked me around the MRI machine (as much as we could of course) and talked to me about how the machine worked and why it was important. She told me exactly what they would look for and even asked if I wanted to see my scans from last time. She was able to read how afraid I was and took that as an opportunity to talk through the “why” of the testing with me. She even offered to stay in the room until I gave her the “ok.” In talking with my parents about this years later, they even recalled her talking to me while I was in the MRI through the speaker, reminding me to keep my eyes closed and asking me every once in a while if I was ok.

This empathy and ability to connect with the “good” of the moment created a safe and “healthier” space for both the physicians and I to communicate. Although the second MRI came back inconclusive for any evidence of damage or blockage, understanding why the tests were important gave perspective to my family. It emphasized the importance of the condition itself and how even odd circumstances lead to moments of education.

References

Arnett, R.C., Harden-Fritz, J. M. & Bell, L. M. (2008). Communication ethics literacy: Dialogue    and difference. Los Angeles: Sage.