By Marie El Daghl, Communication Coach, Trainer and Consultant, Chasing Albert
“Your dad is in a critical state. You should call your family to be around him.”
I turned to look at my mum and sister in law on the other side of the ICU isolation room through my puffy, red, disbelieving eyes. He went in for a hernia at 1pm and came out on life support at 3.
This ICU doctor had resting joy face, sharing brutal messages coming from a smiley mouth.
Say what now? Maybe I couldn’t hear him properly over the sounds of a million beeps in the 22 bed ICU ward.
Marie – you’re a comms pro. Help him help you.
“OK Doctor so to clarify, we are around him. But do you mean like call the family because he’s in a critical state?” Eyes wide, air quotes used because my expressions had to say what my mouth couldn’t. There was no way I was putting the D word out there. Nope. No-siree. My D ain’t D-ing.
“Yes.” he said, the corners of his lips unintentionally upturned. I wanted to shake him so badly, but I had no energy nor was I wearing a bra supportive enough to handle such vigorous movements and would likely end up the one with injuries.
“I have a brother in Dubai. Are you saying we should call him to come and see dad. Because he’s (air quotes again, eyes even bigger) critical critical”.
He responded “look I wouldn’t say he had to be here right this second but tomorrow would be good.” Don’t make me get a sports bra.
“OK so he’s bad bad.”, I said, my eloquence and patience long gone and my cognitive function barely operating. “Yes. His heart stopped. Hearts aren’t meant to do that.” OK, I’ll have to make that two sports bras.
Was it the way he was talking to me or the way I heard him? Was it his exhaustion from working in a packed unit with the sickest patients? The never-ending revolving door of families with never-ending well-intentioned questions? Or was I in absolute denial, only looking for one answer – he’ll be fine? Regardless, the doctor-patient communication was simply not working.
I fell apart.
The next day, a new ICU doctor was on the shift. He handed me the same hard facts in a different way. He leaned forward, and with a gentle but serious look on his face explained:
“His condition has not improved and his chances of surviving this are slim. But if there was no hope, he wouldn’t be here and for as long as he’s here, we’ll be doing everything we can to help him pull through.” He didn’t stop there. He continued to share the hard facts, all the specifics of my dad’s condition but then he reminded me – hope.
I asked him questions like “yesterday his blood pressure showed improvement! Isn’t that a great sign?!” And again he’d gently remind me that I was seeing one number on a monitor but he was reviewing hundreds, so it wasn’t that simple but they were doing everything they could.
It was the toughest but kindest conversation. Tough because the facts were laid out bare and they weren’t great. Kind, because it was clear, empathetic and gave me hope. The amount of hope didn’t matter. It was there.
When I take daughter hat off and put comms pro hat on, I can see this doctor gave me the same reality, but with an understanding of who was receiving it. Someone afraid, confused, desperate, tired, heartbroken. And he worked out what I needed from him to truly listen to what he had to say.
The result was I was able to listen, remain calm and understand the reality. For him, he was able to gain our full trust and ensure the decisions we made were informed and considered. Isn’t it funny that he had to first understand and manage emotions to ensure they didn’t dominate our interactions? That’s emotionally intelligent communication.
It’s true that effective communication is absolutely a two-way street. But in times of distress, for communication to work, the person with more capacity needs to do the heavy lifting until the other can join them and lend a hand.
Dad is much better, thanks for asking.
About the Author, Marie El Daghl
Marie El Daghl is the founder of Chasing Albert, a communication training and consulting business based in Sydney. With almost 30 years' experience in organisational communication, she has written for media outlets, brands and senior leaders, and helps organisations improve communication through training, coaching and consulting.
