Even though I am over 40 (by a long shot) I am familiar with the abbreviation “TMI” (too much information). We are inundated with so much noise, chatter and static. I feel that we are bombarded with information that we must sift through and ultimately delete. The news cycle is 24 hours and hits us from so many electronic sources simultaneously. I am deluged each day with so many unwanted and unsolicited e-mails from organizations that I have never heard of. One of my favorite words on their e-mails can be found when I scroll to the end. UNSUBSCRIBE!
Another genre of information assault is the panoply of warnings and disclaimers that we confront. Of course, we are all numb to them since we have been so supersaturated. I'll prove it to you. The next time you are about to take off on an airplane, the flight attendant will review safety information in the event that a catastrophe occurs. While one might think that folks would be attentive to information that might be useful if the plane loses altitude or is headed for a ‘water landing’; no one is paying any attention at all. Most of us are browsing through the Skymall catalogue which showcases amazing gadgets, such as a device that can dispense feedings to your cat during a week of your absence. For the cat's sake, I hope there won't be a power failure. Moreover, the flight attendants who are issuing the briefings seem more bored than the passengers.
How often do we hear the nonsensical phrase, this product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease? In other words, we admit our product does nothing, but please buy it to for your ailing bones and prostate glands.
How often do we hit the I Agree icon, which follows pages of lawyerly small print, just to get to the next page?
We have been over-warned, over-disclosed and over-disclaimed.
While rounding at the hospital, I saw a sign posted on a coffee machine that said “Caution: Liquid is hot.”
Look what fear of litigation has done for us. Prior to ligitomania, we might not have realized that hot coffee is actually hot and might injure of us if we spilled its steaming contents onto us. Now, we are all much safer knowing that hot beverages, which we desire to be hot, are hot.
Of course, these protections extend beyond steaming beverages. If I were in charge, I'd issue rules and regs that would mandate the following warnings.
• Caution: these steak knives are sharp and not intended to remove feet callouses.
• This chain saw is for industrial use by trained lumberjacks. It is not intended as a toy for children under the age of 7.
• This lighter fluid is dangerous and should not be stored in a child's crib.
The medical profession is a part of this game also. Every day, I have informed consent discussions with patients regarding procedures that I have advised them to undergo. These are informal conversations when I try to give patients sufficient information so that they can make informed decisions. This is reasonable and a fundamental part of the doctor-patient relationship.
The hospital, however, is not satisfied with my efforts and requires that patients sign lengthy consent forms, which most patients sign blindly without reading them. For any readers here who have had the pleasure of having enjoyed hospital life, I'm sure that you can attest how many different forms you have signed from the moment you arrived at the hospital door to your discharge. Most patients and physicians regard these signings to be mere formalities, which are intended to protect hospitals, and not patients. If patients actually took the time to read through all of these legal CYA forms, it might grind the hospital to halt. There's not enough time for patients to read and understand all this drivel.
Caution readers! This blog is not intended to inform, enlighten, provoke, challenge or amuse readers. Readers accept all responsibility for any resultant angst or mental torment and hold blogger harmless for any and all perceived damages until the end of time. Click I AGREE.
This post by Michael Kirsch, MD, FACP, appeared at MD Whistleblower. Dr. Kirsch is a full time practicing physician and writer who addresses the joys and challenges of medical practice, including controversies in the doctor-patient relationship, medical ethics and measuring medical quality. When he's not writing, he's performing colonoscopies.