When I turned 18 a few weeks ago, I celebrated with a family dinner and my annual trip to the doctor’s office. I’ve been seeing the same pediatrician since I was a few months old, so by now I should feel comfortable speaking candidly with her about any health issues. However, like many people, I still feel uncomfortable and self-conscious when asking questions.
The first step of question asking is determining how to phrase my question. Do I want advice about my habits or lifestyle? Do I need a diagnostic test? Do I need a prescription? Do I even understand what’s going on with my body? I am a student of biology, and I still find these questions difficult. Which is why I worry about people who may not even know what to ask.
One in three adults in the United States has low health literacy, meaning they have difficulty obtaining, processing, and understanding information needed to make health decisions and access health services. This problem disproportionately affects marginalized groups, such as people with less formal education, people with fewer economic resources, and non-native English speakers. Such patients are less likely to ask questions about health services, less likely to request additional services, and less likely to seek new information. Most importantly, they have higher hospitalization rates, receive fewer screenings for diseases, and have a higher mortality rate.
A patient’s gender can present an additional barrier in a doctor-patient relationship, with significant implications for health outcomes.
Women consult their doctors about 33 percent more often than men. But that doesn’t always translate into better care. For example, even though women are more likely to notice abnormal bleeding, we are more likely to experience delays in the diagnosis of bleeding disorders. We are also more likely to experience chronic pain and high-impact chronic pain. But in scientific literature, women’s perception of pain is sometimes described with words like “hysteric” and “sensitive” and often compared to men’s pain.
A patient’s gender can present an additional barrier in a doctor-patient relationship, with significant implications for health outcomes.
Such disconnect between women, their symptoms, and their caregivers can trigger a chain of communication issues. Because if symptoms aren’t perceived as severe, then there’s no need for tests. And, because patients are more likely to initiate questions about a diagnostic test or test results, no diagnostic test means no further conversation.
We are up against systemic and structural issues here. But there are ways each of us might bridge the gap and advocate for ourselves. For my purposes, I might try asking: “What might be causing this pain/health issue?” or “What do I do if my symptoms worsen or if this treatment does not work?” I might also ask my doctor if there are any online sources they recommend— not for self-diagnosing purposes but to expand my medical vocabulary, look up the medications I am prescribed, and start forming questions for my next visit.
In the past, I’ve always entered the doctor’s office without clear questions and left without a concrete plan. In the future, by asking these questions, I hope to arrive armed with information about my health and leave with answers.
Margaret is a sophomore at Trumbull College planning to major in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry. Read more from Margaret on WHRY's blog: "Why Didn't I Know This?