Your body is your home and when it’s under siege by illness or being overhauled by medical experts it can feel like a home invasion.
Some of us in the healthcare fields are aware of this and there is training and there are privacy procedures that attempt to provide a modest level of respect for this possibility. Sometimes the invasiveness is unavoidable and even necessary, but it’s important to recognize that there is an impact to the patient beyond the physical.
As I’m writing this, I happen to be in the middle of a 2 week long electrical rewiring project for the building where I live and work. I am someone who cherishes my home space deeply. It feels like an extension of myself and my spirit. To me it’s a refuge and a retreat. It’s where I recharge, nourish and rest all aspects of myself.
In the middle of this construction chaos, I can’t help but feel as though I am undergoing a medical procedure that I did not fully consent to.
It’s easy for experts in any field to forget that what we see as routine and commonplace aspects of our service, can be perceived as earth-shattering by the person on the receiving end.
Of course I knowingly signed off on these procedures to improve the electrical “health “of my building. It’s an important overhaul and sorely needed. You could say that it’s a holistic move to improve the longevity of this house — not even an emergency procedure (luckily!). But it’s still physically and emotionally deeply disruptive to someone like myself. Hence, my thoughts about the parallels in healthcare.
Treatment-related post traumatic stress
For example, if you’re someone who has been through the vigor of cancer treatment, you may be familiar with the notion of treatment-related post traumatic stress. Even once you’ve been declared cancer-free, every follow-up appointment comes with a certain amount of re-activation of emotional stress commonly brought on by death-defying medical treatment.
It’s extremely important for healthcare practitioners to understand and acknowledge the emotional toll of the entire experience of being a cancer patient, but medical care related stress is not limited to life threatening disease.
Any time we enter into the patient-practitioner dynamic there is an inherent power differential; one person is in charge and the other is in need. When you are the one with a vulnerable need, no matter how seemingly minor, you must be aware and prepared for the possibility that perceived boundaries will be crossed and comfort zones will be breached. This reality makes it essential for you as a patient, to communicate any associated discomfort and possible solutions, if there is to be hope for successful outcome. But doing so can only happen if the provider allows space for it.
Unfortunately, boundary-crossing experiences while seeking care for pain, are not at all uncommon.
The majority of my patients have stories to share about past experiences that left them feeling jarred, violated, disregarded and even diminished or demeaned. Practitioners who routinely put their hands on people as part of diagnosis or treatment can easily forget that being touched even in a professional capacity can be extremely triggering for some people. But it’s more than just the mechanics of treatment that can feel invasive.
The human interaction from start to finish is instrumental and can make or break the therapeutic experience.
First contact with a provider’s office can set the stage for the entire clinical experience. “Patient-centered” care is the current buzz word in the industry. There are concerns by some that putting patients at the center of their own care might create a loss of control by the provider resulting in a mishandling of the case. It can be a fine line, but nothing that can’t be remedied by mindful communication.
For providers, connecting with the human element in our patients means sometimes putting aside our own discomfort with our professional authority, clinical competence, or loss of control.
If you are a patient, please know that you can and should advocate for yourself at every turn possible. This means noticing when you feel uncomfortable and speaking up about it. It is not always easy and if after earnest and compassionate attempts to communicate your discomfort, you still feel unheard, then it might be time to move on.
Other times, it’s important to focus on the things that went well, and know that the things that did not go well can help to inform a better experience next time.
Increasingly, healthcare and pain research is showing us how tangible clinical outcomes depend on the human connection and the peripheral parts of the patient encounter. Real physiological change happens when we care for each other as humans.