Sometimes we understand something we couldn’t before when it’s said differently. If a doctor says avoid all foods that contain gluten, we may only hear the AVOID ALL and fail to understand that this may not be as restrictive as we imagine.
Said differently, she could begin by saying, “enjoy all meat, poultry, eggs, fish, and seafood that you are not allergic to. Eat any nuts, seeds, fruit, and vegetables that agree with you. And enjoy any baked goods made without wheat, rye, barley, or malt.” This second presentation sounds like we’ll be swimming in food. And that is the reality.
Of course, further education will be required regarding breading, thickening, and recognizing products that contain wheat, rye, barley, and malt, but additional details are required no matter where you begin. The finer details are not a reason for starting with a statement that can be regarded as negative or taking something away.
As we have experienced in the worldwide community the past few years, communication of health messages is key to adaptation and compliance. It may be more efficient to state restrictions first. It may seem clearer to only mention what must be avoided. This may be true, but we must deal with the lower brain when we’re asking folks to change something as essential as food.
The lower brain registers the message avoid all and goes on alert to protect us. It is likely to respond to the unstated threat: this doctor is asking me to give up food I need to live. We probably won’t experience this response as a conscious thought. Instead, our body will brace and we may begin to feel anxious, annoyed, angry, or resistant.
Why physicians don’t receive training by marketing professionals is beyond me. Marketers know how to present information to motivate people.
Communication is the easiest loop to design and complete in healthcare. And yet it’s the loop that is most often neglected or broken. Lacking and/or poor communication creates problems that would not otherwise exist.
I recently attended a birthday party with a child who was gluten-free. His father brought a piece of cake and slipped it in front of him as the cake was served. I talked to some other attendees later. No one had even noticed his cake was different.
The whole event was handled so smoothly, there was no awkwardness at all. When the venue placed pizza on everyone’s plate, the child let them put pizza on his. He just didn’t eat it. Most likely, he had already eaten something substantial before coming to the party.
While I wasn’t present when this child was informed his eating choices must be different, the family seemed so positive and matter of fact, I have to believe the parents were thoughtful and mindful with their communication. If the boy didn’t understand, I feel sure they were willing to say things differently until he absorbed the information and felt comfortable. It is evident that over time he has become a confident participant in normal childhood events.
I’ve seen adults who were way less adept. It’s not a stretch to think that if they had been communicated with differently at diagnosis, adherence to a gluten-free diet would be less problematic.
With the weird dichotomy of overly permissive and overly rigid that permeates many systems right now, it may be more difficult than ever to find a balanced approach for disseminating information in the most helpful, productive way.
That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be a goal or that we shouldn’t try. Said differently, we can create better attitudes, higher rates of adherence to restricted diets, and a healthier population if we learn to communicate more effectively.
