No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care

A few years ago I went in for an appendectomy. I was laying on the OR table and I'll admit I thought to myself that there was a chance I wouldn't wake up. I knew it was a small chance but just the thought made me a little anxious. Just before induction the anesthesiologist grasped my hand and held onto it until I drifted off to sleep. I remember being comforted just knowing someone cared. A couple weeks ago I got to be on the giving end instead of the receiving end and I was reminded of the need for compassion toward our patients, especially the kind of compassion that they can feel. Prior to a patient getting an IV and arterial line she told me she was nervous and didn't like being stuck with needles.  I told her I didn't like needles either and in fact most people don't like needles. While the anesthesiologist was trying to get the arterial line in on her left wrist I took her right hand and held it. I just thought she would probably want something to squeeze, at least I know I would if I were in the same situation.  The attending had a difficult time getting the line in the wrist.  After making several attempts with the ultrasound he decided to try the brachial.  As they were prepping for the brachial she looked at me and said "this looks serious."  She was right, it did look a lot more serious than a simple radial arterial line. I explained that they were doing the same thing that they tried to do in her wrist but that they have to do a sterile prep when they are trying to access the brachial artery. That seemed to calm her down some. She squeezed my hand several times throughout the procedure. Unfortunately the attending anesthesiologist was unsuccessful in his attempts so we would have to do the line in the OR after induction. After the procedure was over I hadn't really given much thought to my efforts to comfort this patient until she had a complication with her surgery and had to return for a second surgery a few days later (this is the patient I wrote about who had the chyle leak). I didn't get a chance to see her in preop the second time but I helped with the anesthesia in the OR. After we transferred her to the OR table I grabbed her hand to help her move toward the head of the OR table (at this point she's had 2 mg of versed and 100 mcg of fentanyl). 

As soon as I grabbed her hand she looked up at me and said "Travis, right?"  I was shocked. I said, "Wow! You remember my name! I'm so impressed."  She began explaining how nice I was to her while she was being "tortured." I didn't realize that I would have that kind of impact on a patient simply by showing compassion. I remember interviewing at a couple DO schools and they put a lot of emphasis on the power of touch.  It should be a greater part of our practice. It does make a difference. I'm not saying we need to hold every patient's hand but we should be sensitive to the needs of our patients and if they need comfort we should act with confidence. I am reminded of a famous quote by Theodore Roosevelt: "No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care."