The other day, while standing in my office doorway (and possibly holding onto a doorknob) I got into a long conversation with one of my fellow docs about 'doorknob confessions.'
If you are not sure what that phrase means, it's the things that come up at the very end of the visit, literally as we are opening the door to end our time together. For most of us, it's the reason why we made the appointment and what we wanted to talk about in the first place.
(In case you are wondering, it is
also the primary reason we run 20 minutes behind :))
In this episode, we were remarking upon how often it happens, and why it happens. It feels so suprising that people might wait until the last moment to reveal their true concerns; and at the same time, it feels crystal clear why that would be true.
Really, how often do we walk into ANY situation, and just say, "Hey, I am really struggling with anxiety, I have been in a very dark place for the last few weeks, and I need some help"?
Some of us might; most of us don't. We are socially conditioned to make small talk anywhere and
everywhere.
While we talked about how we could restructure or rephrase to elicit the 'real reason' sooner (and give it the time and attention it deserves), what kept bubbling up for me was Trust.
When we trust that a person and space are safe, we can replace the
small talk with real talk more quickly. The tricky part for us is that the relationship between providers & patients is somewhat grounded in fear.
Fear of our kids' pain, of being diagnosed, of being judged for what we eat, our size, or our ability to be perfect parents. Fear of not knowing. Fear of knowing.
**How can we establish trust in a situation that is inherently frought with fear?**
This question has been everything in my clinical practice. It's my reason for being in health care at all.
But you know what else drives me?
And now I have my own confession to make... I don't really trust doctors to care about me.
Truly, the heart of it is fear. Not fear of the information, the
procedures, or the treatments. But fear of not being seen, heard, and known when we are our most vulnerable.
I have another confession or two, and more to say about Trust & Fear, but I will save that for next time. Keep an eye out for the next Muse-leter...;)
Until
then, I leave you with more questions:
* How can we establish trust in a situation that is inherently frought with fear?
* How can we create safety so that you don't have to save the best for last?
* How is fear holding you back from saying or getting what you need from anyone in your life?
You don't have to share your thoughts with me, but share them with someone. Let me know how it goes!
