Doctors Cut with Medical Jargon
By: Judy Foreman
01/27/04

Words are scalpels, every bit as sharp as a surgeon’s tools, and sometimes, almost as dangerous.

I’m not talking about words that doctors use intentionally as black humor, like GOMER (for Get Out of My Emergency Room). Nor about ridiculously impenetrable medical jargon. Or even the understandable, but dehumanizing shorthand like, “Go see the gallbladder in room 3.”

To me, cutting words are at their worst when they are unintended, that is, when they inadvertently reveal what the speaker – the doctor – really thinks.

There are lots of them. Take “incompetent cervix.” Granted, this is a succinct way to describe a cervix that can’t keep the womb properly closed throughout a pregnancy. But we never hear the term “incompetent penis,” do we? Want to bet that “incompetent cervix” was the brainchild of someone who doesn’t have one, competent or otherwise?

Far worse is the common phrase, “The patient failed chemotherapy.” Who or what really failed here, folks? Why not say, “The therapy failed the patient?” It’s not only kinder, but more accurate as well.

Then there’s that old chestnut, “non-compliance,” which doctors use when a patient, like a balky, disobedient child, did not obey the doctor’s orders, like not taking a prescribed drug. “Compliant” isn’t much better – it still puts the patient in a one-down, infantalized position.

Another bad one is “denies,” as in, “The patient denies alcohol use.”  Sure, it lets one doctor know that another has asked a patient about this, but the not-so-hidden connotation is that the patient is a liar.

The term “adverse reaction” to medications bothers Linda De Benedictis, the founder of the New England Patients’ Rights Group. “It implies the drug is okay, the patient was wrong,” she says, as if the patient is the one in one million people for whom the drug is harmful. “Then you talk to 10 other people and they’ve had the same problem,” she says.

To be sure, patients, too, sometimes, patients use terms that grate, on me, at least. Like “breast cancer survivor.” Obviously, this is a respectful way to describe someone who’s fought a frightening disease, but there’s something so P.C. and pink-ribbonish about it. What about all those people with cancer who don’t survive. Were they were any less heroic?

Some doctors also have their own pet peeves.

For  Kay Jamison, author of  “An Unquiet Mind,” a book about her own experience growing up with manic-depression and “Night Falls Fast,” about suicide, it’s “failed suicide attempt,” which makes it sound as though a person was not only despairing but incompetent to boot.

“It’s like the Puritan ethic – you were unsuccessful at suicide,” says Jamison, a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine.

Just as bad is “suicidal gesture,” says Dr. Andrew Leuchter, vice chair of the department of psychiatry at the UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute. What looks to doctors like a half-hearted suicide attempt may actually be a serious attempt by someone who simply doesn’t know how to do it. Less offensive but silly is the phrase “past medical history,” adds Leuchter. What kind of history is there, other than “past?”

In an article called “Words That  Main, Words That Heal,” scheduled to be published in a leading medical journal, Dr. Susanna Bedell, an internist at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston, dissects the meanings of many medical terms that are unnecessarily insulting.

A classic for sheer insensitivity, she says, is “widow maker,” used to describe a man with severely clogged coronary arteries. Just as awful, she adds, is “deforming arthritis, used for patients with severe rheumatoid arthritis.

As a much-published poet, Dr. Rafael Campo, a primary care physician at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, is exquisitely attuned to the potential damage – and the healing power – of words.

Doctors often say the patient came in “complaining of ” something, which makes the patient sound whiney, like  “an adversary,” Campo believes. “It’s very pejorative.”

 “I am interested in poetry as an antidote to the medicalese that seems like a weapon inflicted on a patient,” says Campo, the author of  “The Healing Art: A Doctor’s Black Bag of Poetry.” Campo encourages his patients to write about their medical experiences in their own words. “Go back to what happened, in your mind,” he tells them. “Write me a story or poem.”

Perhaps most galling of all the unfortunate medical phrases is one often used as a patient is dying, says Dr. Lachlan Forrow, director of ethics programs at Beth Israel Deaconess.

When people talk about withdrawing life support, he says, they often say “withdrawing care.” In reality, Forrow says, “We never withdraw care. ..We just stop the respirator if it is no longer a caring thing. That is the opposite of withdrawing care.

Judy Foreman is a Lecturer on Medicine at Harvard Medical School. Her column appears every other week. Past columns are available on www.myhealthsense.com.

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