Delivering Difficult News
12/05/12 04:17
Sometimes I marvel at the wonders of modern technology. At least once a week we connect with our children using our computers for video conferencing. We can speak and see their faces at the same time. They often carry their computers around the room or outside to show us what is going on in their world. We can even share “Facetime” conversations with video over our cell phones.
We live in a world of instant communications. Last week when there was a fire in our neighborhood, I immediately checked out the news updates on my cell phone while listening to fire dispatch on a scanner radio. It didn’t work perfectly. We watched quite a bit of action before the news crew arrived on scene to post updates to the phone network. Nonetheless there were pictures of the fire available on the computer within a few hours.
The world wasn’t always this way. Events of family life were reported in letters for generations and until relatively recently letters took a long time to reach their destination. We are the first generation to think that writing a letter, affixing a stamp to an addressed envelope and expecting it to be hand-delivered within 2 or 3 days is “too slow.” In 1974, when we moved to Chicago from Montana, long distance telephone charges were 22cents per minute. We limited ourselves to one phone call per week and limited that call to five minutes. Our children have no sense of limits to the number of phone calls or the amount of time. They and we have calling plans that offer unlimited long distance. There is no extra charge unless we call outside of the United States. And we do that routinely by using our computers. With voice over Internet technology, we speak to Australia without extra cost.
We think of this as progress. And perhaps it is. But it does have its down side as well. Last year I was attending a meeting and received a text message. The message asked me to be prepared because there was a traumatic incident in our town that involved a shooting. After the meeting, as I drove by the hospital, I saw the ambulance and law enforcement vehicles just arriving. I was not using my scanner radio. I was not on call for official duties. I was just an ordinary citizen, and I was informed about a shooting with a possible death before the victim reached the hospital – before death had been declared. The events didn’t unfold in the right order.
We have become used to events as occurred last week in our town, when a motorcyclist was killed in an accident. There was a picture on a web site and in the newspaper showing the motorcycle and the vehicle that struck it before notification had been made to family members.
A third example: Within the last few months a colleague and I were on official duties working in partnership with the Sheriff’s office assisting a family who had experienced an unexpected death. One of the dynamics in the family is that there were children of various ages. We worked together to make a plan to notify each child individually with the parent and another adult bringing the news individually. The children were at two different after school locations, so the logistics took a few minutes to work out and the parent needed some resources and some instruction to assist with the difficult duty. After we had made a plan, my colleague and I went to the cab of my pickup for a moment to reflect on what had occurred and discuss the next steps that needed to be taken. We took a look at the news headlines on a cell phone and the name of the victim and the cause of death were already posted on the newspaper website – before family notifications had taken place.
Instant communication can be a dangerous thing. Many years ago, a tradition that formed in Europe became common in rural areas in America. In Tudor England it was called a “passing bell” or “soul bell.” The bell was rung with short pauses between rings. It notified the village that a death had occurred. In some places the tones and pauses also provided clues for listeners as to which person had died. In the days before newspapers, telephones or other means of fast conveyance existed, a funeral notice was posted in the window of a business. Passersby would read of the death and make arrangements to acknowledge the family’s loss. These notifications, however, went out only after close family members had been notified.
Law enforcement agencies, the military, fire departments, medical personnel and ministers are all called upon at times to make notification that a death has occurred. We have had the experience of being called in the middle of the night and given the task of delivering difficult news to others. We are aware of how traumatic the experience can be. We’ve been trained in grief and in care of those who are grieving. We know how inappropriate information or actions can make the grieving process more difficult for survivors. There are protocols and procedures that we follow that have been carefully crafted to assist families and individuals in these difficult times. But these notifications take time. They are not instant. I know of a fire department where the protocol manual calls for the news to be delivered by an officer of the department, preferably one who witnessed or has first-hand knowledge of the incident. This officer should appear with at least one other member of the fire department in dress uniform. The protocol assumes that the firemen will finish putting out the fire, go back to the station and change their clothes, and then deliver the news.
In an age of cell phones and instant messaging that means that the family could already have a picture of their loved one being loaded into the coroner’s car before the officers arrive.
All across our country, we are in a process of revising procedures and protocols and trying to come up with ways to deliver news more quickly. We remain convinced that how news is delivered is very important. It can ease the pain for survivors if they receive first-hand information delivered in person. It is important that the process of notification not create additional bad memories for those who have already had a deep loss.
Yesterday at yet another meeting we discussed the matter without coming up with solutions. We have already sped up our response time to less than 15 minutes. But in a county as large as ours there can be drive times of up to an hour for some distant locations. Clearly there needs to be ethical training for the newspaper and television reporters and editors. Now we also need pubic education about the appropriate use of social media and technology.
Research indicates that when death notification is poorly handled, survivors suffer consequences. Leaving survivors with lingering unanswered questions relating to the death of a loved one contributes to emotional difficulties and, in some cases, psychological illness. As a community, we need to re-think how we handle this important news. Those of us who carry special responsibility as the bearers of bad news must become advocates for those who receive our news. Those who attempt to deliver the news without proper training or understanding need to be made aware of the pain they might cause.
In this time of changing technologies, we still have much to learn.
We live in a world of instant communications. Last week when there was a fire in our neighborhood, I immediately checked out the news updates on my cell phone while listening to fire dispatch on a scanner radio. It didn’t work perfectly. We watched quite a bit of action before the news crew arrived on scene to post updates to the phone network. Nonetheless there were pictures of the fire available on the computer within a few hours.
The world wasn’t always this way. Events of family life were reported in letters for generations and until relatively recently letters took a long time to reach their destination. We are the first generation to think that writing a letter, affixing a stamp to an addressed envelope and expecting it to be hand-delivered within 2 or 3 days is “too slow.” In 1974, when we moved to Chicago from Montana, long distance telephone charges were 22cents per minute. We limited ourselves to one phone call per week and limited that call to five minutes. Our children have no sense of limits to the number of phone calls or the amount of time. They and we have calling plans that offer unlimited long distance. There is no extra charge unless we call outside of the United States. And we do that routinely by using our computers. With voice over Internet technology, we speak to Australia without extra cost.
We think of this as progress. And perhaps it is. But it does have its down side as well. Last year I was attending a meeting and received a text message. The message asked me to be prepared because there was a traumatic incident in our town that involved a shooting. After the meeting, as I drove by the hospital, I saw the ambulance and law enforcement vehicles just arriving. I was not using my scanner radio. I was not on call for official duties. I was just an ordinary citizen, and I was informed about a shooting with a possible death before the victim reached the hospital – before death had been declared. The events didn’t unfold in the right order.
We have become used to events as occurred last week in our town, when a motorcyclist was killed in an accident. There was a picture on a web site and in the newspaper showing the motorcycle and the vehicle that struck it before notification had been made to family members.
A third example: Within the last few months a colleague and I were on official duties working in partnership with the Sheriff’s office assisting a family who had experienced an unexpected death. One of the dynamics in the family is that there were children of various ages. We worked together to make a plan to notify each child individually with the parent and another adult bringing the news individually. The children were at two different after school locations, so the logistics took a few minutes to work out and the parent needed some resources and some instruction to assist with the difficult duty. After we had made a plan, my colleague and I went to the cab of my pickup for a moment to reflect on what had occurred and discuss the next steps that needed to be taken. We took a look at the news headlines on a cell phone and the name of the victim and the cause of death were already posted on the newspaper website – before family notifications had taken place.
Instant communication can be a dangerous thing. Many years ago, a tradition that formed in Europe became common in rural areas in America. In Tudor England it was called a “passing bell” or “soul bell.” The bell was rung with short pauses between rings. It notified the village that a death had occurred. In some places the tones and pauses also provided clues for listeners as to which person had died. In the days before newspapers, telephones or other means of fast conveyance existed, a funeral notice was posted in the window of a business. Passersby would read of the death and make arrangements to acknowledge the family’s loss. These notifications, however, went out only after close family members had been notified.
Law enforcement agencies, the military, fire departments, medical personnel and ministers are all called upon at times to make notification that a death has occurred. We have had the experience of being called in the middle of the night and given the task of delivering difficult news to others. We are aware of how traumatic the experience can be. We’ve been trained in grief and in care of those who are grieving. We know how inappropriate information or actions can make the grieving process more difficult for survivors. There are protocols and procedures that we follow that have been carefully crafted to assist families and individuals in these difficult times. But these notifications take time. They are not instant. I know of a fire department where the protocol manual calls for the news to be delivered by an officer of the department, preferably one who witnessed or has first-hand knowledge of the incident. This officer should appear with at least one other member of the fire department in dress uniform. The protocol assumes that the firemen will finish putting out the fire, go back to the station and change their clothes, and then deliver the news.
In an age of cell phones and instant messaging that means that the family could already have a picture of their loved one being loaded into the coroner’s car before the officers arrive.
All across our country, we are in a process of revising procedures and protocols and trying to come up with ways to deliver news more quickly. We remain convinced that how news is delivered is very important. It can ease the pain for survivors if they receive first-hand information delivered in person. It is important that the process of notification not create additional bad memories for those who have already had a deep loss.
Yesterday at yet another meeting we discussed the matter without coming up with solutions. We have already sped up our response time to less than 15 minutes. But in a county as large as ours there can be drive times of up to an hour for some distant locations. Clearly there needs to be ethical training for the newspaper and television reporters and editors. Now we also need pubic education about the appropriate use of social media and technology.
Research indicates that when death notification is poorly handled, survivors suffer consequences. Leaving survivors with lingering unanswered questions relating to the death of a loved one contributes to emotional difficulties and, in some cases, psychological illness. As a community, we need to re-think how we handle this important news. Those of us who carry special responsibility as the bearers of bad news must become advocates for those who receive our news. Those who attempt to deliver the news without proper training or understanding need to be made aware of the pain they might cause.
In this time of changing technologies, we still have much to learn.