My uncle, my husband, and I continue to wait in the small doctor’s office on a Thursday afternoon. We are here for my uncle’s follow-up appointment with his general practitioner. We’ve now begun our second hour of waiting, waiting.
Someone knocks on the door and enters in. But instead of my uncle’s doctor coming through the door, it’s yet another stranger for the third time today.
Who are these people?
The first stranger had been a woman that we assume is a new nurse. She doesn’t introduce herself. She wears no name badge. She asks lots of questions and taps my uncle’s answers into her tablet. Then she leaves without a word.
The second stranger is no different. She also enters with no greeting. She takes my uncle’s temperature and his blood pressure, and leaves as quickly as she came.
So by the time the third stranger walks in, we are both weary and wary. I look for a name badge, a stethoscope, something to indicate that he is indeed the doctor. If he is, I expect he’ll tell us, “Hi, I’m Dr. so-and-so, filling in today for Dr. W.”
But he doesn’t explain who he is either. He simply glances over my uncle’s chart, and asks more questions about the reason for his visit. He gives no advice, he offers no recommendations, and just like the others, he leaves without us knowing who he even is.
And with that, the appointment is over. We are free to leave. But I can’t shake the strange feeling of disconnection. Frankly, if it weren’t for the familiar surroundings, I’d have doubted we were in the right office at all.
I used to think I preferred when people didn’t waste time by overexplaining the obvious. No, I don’t need help finding what I’m looking for, I tell the store clerks. Yes, I’ve been to this restaurant before so I don’t need to hear the menu sales pitch, thank you though. I’ll ask questions when I have one, and until then we can all move along.
But today, I’ve changed. I decide I do need more of the social niceties than I realized. I need someone entering a room to offer me a friendly greeting, however cliché, and to introduce themselves to me, and me to them, even if we can figure out our roles by the context. It still needn’t be lengthy, but it needs to be something.
Maybe overcommunicating is more helpful than undercommunicating after all. At least in some situations.
As we get in our car to return home, we all remark on how odd the appointment had felt. While no one had been rude to us, we still felt the lack of basic politeness we’ve grown accustomed to. A simple introduction is more important for establishing connections than we give it credit for.
It’s a small habit, but simply saying who we are and why we’re here can make a big impact. I want to remember going forward that a little clarity goes a long way.
