American public longs for doctors’ time, concern
What do we want to hear when we go to a doctor’s office? We want them to listen to what we’re saying and we want them to decipher what we’re not saying. Basically we expect them to read our minds.
Going to a primary care provider is like going to a psychic: You’re there because you have a problem and are looking for a solution. You’re willing to believe an experienced professional has the answers.
Somebody walks into the rooms and asks for your arm; as long as they give you a good answer, do you care whether they’re taking your blood pressure or reading your lifeline?
Trust me: If Obamacare is actually repealed, the psychic business is going through the roof. If you have to sell your firstborn to cover the cost of a MRI but you can have your palm read for $15, guess where you’re going?
What with fewer physicians wearing starched white jackets and nurses eschewing those little peaked caps, we’re more suspicious. While I’m relieved that hard-working professionals can wear comfortable clothing, I’ll admit to being unnerved a few months ago when I went to a local hospital to have my blood drawn. I was treated by a nurse wearing a top covered with—no kidding—tombstones saying “RIP.”
Never mind that it was close to Halloween. I’m looking at “Rest in Peace” as she’s drawing my blood? Really? Heading over to the Tarot reader starts to seem like a prudent choice because at least the lady there invokes white magic before reading my chart. She also dresses more sedately.
Actually, the first thing we want is for any M.D., PA, APRN or anybody else with initials after their name to show up within 20 minutes of the designated appointment. Many of us get desperately anxious before ordinary visits, overcome by waves of fear, shame and horror at the prospect of being weighed.
If we’re seeing a health care provider because we’re unwell, it’s much worse.
When we deal with illness, injury or disease, we’re actually brushing up against chaos. We’re addressing those parts of life where things split apart, where we face our inability to control what happens next, and where we are grasping at events and emotions beyond our vocabulary, even though they are part of the universal experience.
Unless doctors are going to install penny slots in the waiting room to entertain adults the way ubiquitous plastic bead mazes divert the attention of wobbly toddlers, they need to get us into actual examination rooms in under half an hour.
And while I understand that listening tenderly to every patient’s story might be in direct contradiction to making every appointment on time, surely there’s a way to handle this. Other professionals manage. Hair stylists, whose regulars reveal more intimate information than they’d ever tell their shrinks usually see you within five minutes of your arrival and so do those shrinks. Dentists, mucking out our mouths, are on time.
Time is important when we’re about to see a doctor because anticipation adds to the hum and throb of chaos for those already nervous. Waiting for the word on results, for the reading of biopsies and for the pronouncement of expert opinions underscores our sense of helplessness. Patients don’t feel as if we’re being diagnosed with what we already have, but instead judged by authorities on how well we’ve performed. They’re called “tests” for a reason and most of us worry about failing, believing that life is not one of those courses you can repeat in the summer, hoping for a better grade.
My primary care providers, a physician and an APRN, are brilliant at their work, but I realize I’m extraordinarily fortunate. They greet me with a smile and say, “Tell me everything.” Friendly, focused and compassionate, they say the very words my friend Mona Friedland argues we all long to hear when we’re being looked after: “Is there anything else we haven’t spoken about yet that we need to discuss?”
It turns out that we don’t need magicians, mind-readers or mystics: we need a dedicated and knowledgeable medical team. And it would be both healthy and wise to make sure everyone has access to the same—just ditch the outfits with RIPs.