I think they don’t, for the same reason they say “this won’t hurt” when it will—clumsy or not, they’re priming a response rather than conveying factual information (though some of them might believe it), under the belief that the reaction garnered will be better than that you’d get from an honest statement.
I dunno how effective it actually is, either on the general population or on the subset of people who are more skeeved out by the lie or omission and the unplanned sensations than the knowledge it’ll be unpleasant.
Someone needs to tell them about the conservation of expected evidence. There’s no way for them to consistently provide evidence that it won’t hurt when it will.
Well, if they were correct in the assumption that telling a patient “It won’t hurt” when they get a shot or blood draw will relax them long enough to get to the critical phase, then it mostly comes down to how much you resent the lie.
They’re not trying to convince the patient; they’re trying to render them more tractable so that the patient doesn’t panic, flinch (which could cause an injury) or drive themselves to heights of anxiety. The question is how well it works.
Because humans don’t just process the truth-aptness of natural-language statements?
Have you ever had to comfort a crying child, calm an animal, or put a nervous person at ease? What you say is often less important than how you say it, and what you do. Tone of voice, body language, behavioral scripts...these things have a direct influence on cognition and emotion. It may be the channel through which a lot of squicky things operate (what many LWers call “The Dark Arts”), but it’s also a channel for more benign forms of interaction and influence as well.
I worked in a daycare center for a while and kissing the bandage after mending a scraped knee was just something we adults did. It has no medical value, but it’s a comforting gesture—it makes the child feel better. So does talking in a calming voice before you wash it with an antimicrobial wipe, which is going to sting a bit.
I certainly did when I was a child—later on, an accident that destroyed several of my teeth forced me to self-modify so I could get through the deplorable amount of root canals and other dentistry I’ve been subjected to.
Since that time, I’ve learned enough mental hacks for dealing with pain and fear, which wasso worthwhile. I have a marked needle phobia and a seriously low pain threshold, yet have routine blood draws without incident and have been pierced with large-gauge needles and tattooed for up to 1.5 hours at a sitting.
Still, I can empathize with the surprise and squick reactions. Some of the experiences you have during surgery are never talked about, so nobody knows it’s even a possible experience until it happens to you.
Thanks. It was creepy, they should warn patients about that.
I think they don’t, for the same reason they say “this won’t hurt” when it will—clumsy or not, they’re priming a response rather than conveying factual information (though some of them might believe it), under the belief that the reaction garnered will be better than that you’d get from an honest statement.
I dunno how effective it actually is, either on the general population or on the subset of people who are more skeeved out by the lie or omission and the unplanned sensations than the knowledge it’ll be unpleasant.
Someone needs to tell them about the conservation of expected evidence. There’s no way for them to consistently provide evidence that it won’t hurt when it will.
Well, if they were correct in the assumption that telling a patient “It won’t hurt” when they get a shot or blood draw will relax them long enough to get to the critical phase, then it mostly comes down to how much you resent the lie.
They’re not trying to convince the patient; they’re trying to render them more tractable so that the patient doesn’t panic, flinch (which could cause an injury) or drive themselves to heights of anxiety. The question is how well it works.
Why would it render them more tractable if it doesn’t convince them?
Because humans don’t just process the truth-aptness of natural-language statements?
Have you ever had to comfort a crying child, calm an animal, or put a nervous person at ease? What you say is often less important than how you say it, and what you do. Tone of voice, body language, behavioral scripts...these things have a direct influence on cognition and emotion. It may be the channel through which a lot of squicky things operate (what many LWers call “The Dark Arts”), but it’s also a channel for more benign forms of interaction and influence as well.
I worked in a daycare center for a while and kissing the bandage after mending a scraped knee was just something we adults did. It has no medical value, but it’s a comforting gesture—it makes the child feel better. So does talking in a calming voice before you wash it with an antimicrobial wipe, which is going to sting a bit.
My response was to freak out.
I certainly did when I was a child—later on, an accident that destroyed several of my teeth forced me to self-modify so I could get through the deplorable amount of root canals and other dentistry I’ve been subjected to.
Since that time, I’ve learned enough mental hacks for dealing with pain and fear, which wasso worthwhile. I have a marked needle phobia and a seriously low pain threshold, yet have routine blood draws without incident and have been pierced with large-gauge needles and tattooed for up to 1.5 hours at a sitting.
Still, I can empathize with the surprise and squick reactions. Some of the experiences you have during surgery are never talked about, so nobody knows it’s even a possible experience until it happens to you.