By Dr. Mary C. Zeng
It’s been a long day in the psychiatry clinic.
Seeing patients is never dull, and each interaction is meaningful in its own way. From the moment they walk into my office to the moment they leave, I try my best to be fully present with the patients sitting in front of me. That means listening to every word, watching every nuance of body language, hearing every concern — both spoken and unspoken. It means bearing their grief as they tell me about the father they’re losing to cancer, their pain as they suffer through profound bouts of depression and their agony as they recall their nightmares of childhood trauma.
It also means putting aside my personal agenda to focus wholly on them, which includes resisting my urge to take notes during the patient interview so that I can save time later, with fewer notes to complete after the patient leaves.
It is a common complaint that doctors look at their computer screens and type on their keyboards more than they listen to their patients. But consider this reality: From the doctor’s perspective, every moment she spends focusing on you, the patient, rather than on the “note” she needs to write up about your appointment, is a debt that must be repaid later in the day. If the doctor can’t complete your note during the 15 minutes you spend with her, then she must add another 15 minutes to the end of her workday in order to finish that note. Multiply that 15 minutes by the 10-15 patients she sees in a day and all of a sudden she has missed the family dinner and the kids are already asleep by the time she comes home.