Durga’s Tool #552: SBAR

Here’s another in my toolbox series of techniques that inspire me to live with joy, compassion and courage.

When you are parenting a child with special needs, learning how to communicate clearly with teachers, doctors and other professionals is a critical tool. Good communication helps the person we’re trying to talk to understand all of the facts of the situation as well as what we need them to do. It’s not that they don’t care about us or want to rush us, but sometimes too much information makes it hard for them to know how to help.

One helpful communication tool health care professionals use is called SBAR. It’s a standardized way of talking about a patient’s situation quickly and clearly. It works just as well for parents when we are talking with professionals about our children.

SBAR stands for Situation, Background, Assessment, and Recommendation, and it is exactly what it sounds like. Here is a description of what a conversation might look like using SBAR.

Situation: Briefly describe who you are and what’s going on. “My name is Mrs. Smith and I’m calling about my son, Jamie, who I am concerned about.”

Background: Briefly describe the relevant key points about the person. “Jamie is nine years old and has a cognitive disability and anxiety. He has trouble communicating verbally. For the last two days he hasn’t seemed like himself. This morning I noticed him pulling on his left ear. I took his temperature and he has a fever or 101. I gave him some ibuprofen and it seemed to make him more comfortable and his fever went down.”

Assessment: Describe what you think this means or what you think should happen next. “I think Jamie has an ear infection.”

Request: State what you would like the person you are talking with to do. “I’d like your advice on what we should do. Do you think we should come into the office or is there something we can do from home?”

The Empowered Patient has a free SBAR handout that can help you prepare for a phone call, when you have a concern in the hospital, or when you’re getting ready for an office visit using the SBAR technique. Check it out! It’s simple and can help make sure that you are heard and that you or your loved one gets the attention they need.

The SBAR technique can be used in non-medical situations too. I just used it to call my school district with a complicated question about their after-school policy. Normally, I’d give too much information about some things but still forget to say my name. Using this technique, the phone call was over in two minutes and I felt like it went really well.

 

 

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Detoxing from crisis

We’re hitting the one year mark since our big trans-atlantic move. Coming upon milestones nearly every day this week, the first anniversaries of selling the house, leaving the state, saying good-bye and leaving the US altogether, I couldn’t help but get sentimental, sad, celebratory and relieved. Sentimental and sad for the people who are so far away now, and even for the things—good chewy bagels, NPR on the car radio, my garden. Celebratory and relieved for making it through the transition if not gracefully, then at least with scrapes that will heal clean. We have a new home that we love, a rekindling and creation of relationships, and work we enjoy.

There was one feeling that caught me off guard this week: boredom. Maybe not actual boredom, but fear of it. The past year (and the months leading up to it) have been stressful, that’s true, but there has been something decidedly meaningful about this time as well. Priorities have been clear, we’ve come together closer as a family like never before, the task of putting one foot in front of the other just to get through the day has been, in many ways, satisfying.

We have been in crisis. And I am good at crisis. As a parent of a child with special needs, I’d have to say I feel comfortable there. After years of wishing to be done with the drama of crisis, recognizing a pang of nostalgia for it makes me stop and think.

When my son was younger, he had several stints in the hospital. Everything non-essential was put on hold — work, mowing the lawn, opening the mail, returning non-urgent phone calls — while we focused on keeping him comfortable and supporting his healing. Everything was so clear, simple and focused, exactly the way I think most of us wish our lives could be these days, but of course without the crisis itself.

Dr. Suzanne Koven wrote movingly in the Boston Globe last week about the unexpected upside of illness in families in her piece “In Practice: Illness and silver linings.” “What starts out as a calamity becomes woven into a person’s identity, and their family’s — and sometimes even enriches them.”

Crisis has been such a big part of my own enrichment, like the fire of an iron forge. The calamity is exhausting and scary, but if one is lucky enough to get through it, it is meaningful. So much so that if I’m not careful, it might be tempting to create crisis when there is none.

The trick, of course, is to build a meaningful life without needing the drama to be present in order to do it. Easier said than done. But a goal worth pursuing and a boredom worth welcoming.

I’d be curious to hear what others think about how crisis makes them feel. In the mean time, I’m going to sit and do nothing for a few minutes.