All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

I really don’t remember kindergarten at all.  But, I do remember wanting to be a kindergarten teacher.  For my first two years in college, I was an Early Childhood Education Major.  I so vividly remember a college professor saying to us, ‘The absolute most important thing to remember on the first day of school is every child’s name.  It is a sign of courtesy and a way of recognizing them. When someone remembers our name, we feel respected and important. It makes a positive and lasting impression.’ 

That is truly a life lesson.

Nothing irks me more than hearing a healthcare worker say, ‘this patient.’ Patient is an object.  ‘This patient’ that healthcare worker refers to is a person with a name and loved ones. I really noticed this practice at Mercy Hospital in St. Louis.  My dad had fallen ill and was taken to the Emergency Room.  Dr. Ed Ferguson was the attending physician in the Emergency Room.  He was extraordinary in manner and skill. He called both of my parents by name.  He explained every test that was being performed and what he was looking for.  I could not have asked for a better physician to be treating my dad.  

My dad was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit.  As we entered the unit, a young physician stood on the other side of the bed and said, ‘This patient could have a brain bleed and his kidneys may be shutting down.  I will need to look at this patient’s chart to see what is going on.  Do we have advanced care directives for this patient?’  Again, ‘this patient’ is a person with a name.  All of the sudden my dad went from being a person to being an object.  That was extremely chilling to me. Additionally, the two people with my dad where me and my nephew. The doctor never once asked who we were or if we were the individuals to make advanced care directive decisions. 

We did meet two fine doctors in the ICU.  Dr. Taylor and Dr. Jacobs.  Again, two physicians that mastered the art of skill and manner.  They always called my dad by name, held my mom’s hand as they talked to her, and placed their hands on my dad’s shoulder to let him know he would get better. My dad’s health progressed. After several days, he was transferred to a step-down unit.  My family was present as he was brought into this room.  Again, two nurses came in at shift change.  They literally stood in the middle of the room and spouted off, ‘This patient is diabetic, has a history of cancer, chronic kidney disease....’   My skin crawled as I heard that phrase again, and again, and again.  More importantly, I was stunned that my dad’s medical information would be shared in the middle of the room with so many people present.  My dad’s grandchildren did not know that he had battled cancer. That was a decision that he had made as he did not want them to worry.  Now...they all knew.