A rental car attendant, a doctor, a nurse, and a patient—what do they have in common? From my perspective, I don’t think the answer is as obvious as I first thought. Last week I had a personal exchange with all of the people listed above, and there were noticeable differences in how I was addressed and treated by each one. I will also concede that my doctor may have addressed and treated me differently because of our relationship and past history.
When I approached a busy rental car counter last week, the clerk greeted me with a smile as he addressed me, “Mr. Baker, how are you today….” During the 10 minutes of exchanging information and signing the rental agreement, he made pleasant conversation as well as informed me of things I needed to know, such as replenishing the fuel, contact numbers for assistance if needed, and so on. When the paper work was all done, he said with a huge smile and handshake, “Here are your keys Mr. Baker—have a great day.”
My doctor always greets me as a friend I haven’t seen in a while; he gives me a big smile, a nice firm handshake, and a pat on the shoulder. We exchange pleasantries and, before getting down to business, he inquires, “How’s the family?” After the office visit I hurried off to get some blood work drawn at a lab where I did not have the good fortune of knowing the nurse or the phlebotomist. Suddenly, I was addressed as “Sweet Pea” and found myself with an internal struggle of how does one respond to “Sweet Pea?” Now, I might be a lot of things—but a “Sweet Pea” I am not.
In these moments of awkwardness when members of the healthcare community refer to us as something other than our names, how are we supposed to respond, or do we? Obviously, I found myself at a disadvantage because the one calling me “Sweet Pea” would soon be in control of a rather long needle used to pierce through my delicate skin and into my arm to draw my blood. With my clothes returned, specimens collected, and the final “Follow me Sweet Pea”—I had to ask—“Why do you call me ‘Sweet Pea’?” She responded, “Because you’re special.”
I have to wonder where our manners have gone, or did we ever have them? In my career I have heard nurses call patients many things: pumpkin, honey, sweetie, baby doll, and sweet pea. To me, it’s like running fingernails down a chalk board, so I can only imagine how some may suffer in silence, feeling helpless to object. Are these terms of endearment part of a culture that, perhaps, I am out of step with? I do believe that hospitals and doctors’ offices have a unique culture all their own, but should we as consumers of healthcare services accept less than the common courtesies that we expect from other service providers?
The New England Journal of Medicine ran an article on Etiquette-Based Medicine, which included a checklist for the first meeting with a hospitalized patient. The list is as follows:
1. Ask permission to enter the room; wait for an answer.
2. Introduce yourself, showing ID badge.
3. Shake hands (wear glove if needed).
4. Sit down. Smile if appropriate.
5. Briefly explain your role on the team.
6. Ask the patient how he or she is feeling about being in the hospital.
I have always used these six steps to some degree when meeting and addressing patients; it’s just good manners. Remember, there is nothing wrong with reminding our healthcare providers that we are more than patients—we are people with feelings, and we expect good manners.
Howard Baker, RN BSN
For questions, comments, or suggestions on topics you want to read about please e-mail me at: howard@howardsbaker.com
