There’s No Such Thing As A Silly Question
In my undergraduate dissertation project, we recruited volunteers to obtain results. Participants maintained a food and exercise diary for a week. Although I was an undergraduate, I was excited about administering instructions as I had always dreamt of being a health professional and felt like I was one as I advised my participants. It looked easy on the TV and at the GP. Part of this process included taking measurements in the lab, including blood tests.
University had become extremely busy and one day, my dissertation group leader called me into the lab to discuss one of my participant’s results. “One of your participants has extremely low haemoglobin. We ran their blood test twice just to double check. This needs to increase; they can get this sorted by going to the GP.”
This felt heavy. I was worried about how the message would come across to my friend who was dealing with a lot. I realised that communicating as a health professional wasn’t about sharing sweet words. I asked the lab technician how I should deliver the news and whilst handing me the printed results, he said, ‘Just give her this paper.’ I struggled with this thought. Would that be helpful? Most GP’s had a three-week waiting list. This sheet highlighted the abnormality but did not explain how my participant could make sense of it; she was not even a science student.
I met up with my friend and asked how she was, judging when to inform her. I checked in relationally as I had learnt on a summer placement abroad that this can make situations easier to talk about. It was important to check that she was okay first. I explained the situation simply and we processed it together. She responded inquisitively. I thought that was the best time to explain how the effects of low haemoglobin affected her energy levels, which she confirmed by saying that she was always tired. Also, I remembered analysing blood results from some of my lectures, which aided my explanation and she was able to get the help she needed with greater understanding of it all. Looking back, the approach of putting myself in her shoes and giving an explanation with space for questions helped her rather than just looking at a piece of paper. I realised that my relationship with my friend eased the approach in having that conversation. I should have asked my dissertation leader about how I could have approached the conversation, rather than not asking at all; this would have helped me to worry less, removing the fear that came from the lab technician’s abrupt answer. It’s good to ask questions and this was something I endeavoured to improve on, even if it felt uncomfortable.
During this time, I led a small group within my church. My dissertation experience shaped how I approached unexpected situations. Knowing the importance of asking questions helped me to understand how the people I led were feeling and what they were processing mentally. Questions led us to the root of problems.
This led me to question health inequalities globally and locally. My passion for equal rights and equality caused me to consider other points of view and ask, “Why?” I was challenged to be open-minded, something I was not used to, but it shattered my assumption of healthcare being fair all over the world. I started to realise over time that my love for science, improving lives, healthcare and social justice was something Public Health addressed, leading me to apply and gain admission at a great university where I’ll continue to ask questions.
