by Hannah McKenna, WHF Intern
College is a time for firsts. There’s the first time you walk into the library at night, and walk out the next morning as chirping birds mock your “time management”; the first time you drink eleven Solo® cups of “Jungle Juice” at a frat party despite its questionable name and content; and the first time you find yourself unceremoniously exiled from your room by a dirty sock on the doorknob. And then, there’s your first unfortunate encounter (and the start of many others) with a “That Kid”.
A term that originated at the University of Chicago, “That Kid” describes the student in class who always has something to say and consequently, never stops talking. Although you can’t help but admire That Kid’s tireless dedication to class participation, it’s a sentiment that quickly fades upon realizing that That Kid gets more air time than the professor. Whether by attempting to correct the professor (often in vain) or voicing outrageous opinions on the topic at hand, in his never-ending quest to always be right, That Kid frequently incurs the wrath of his classmates.
With a few rare and puzzling exceptions, nobody wants to be a That Kid. So how can you know if you’re off the hook? According to the conventional wisdom on campus, “If you can’t identify the That Kid in your class, then you yourself are the That Kid.” Though I spent my first days of college terrified that I would be labeled as a That Kid, on the third day of my humanities class, two That Kids made themselves known. Their battle over some obscure detail from The Iliad was long-winded and annoying, but thanks to them, I could rest assured that I was not a That Kid.
Always being able to spot the That Kid in class with relative ease, I was fairly confident that I was not the That Kid in college and graduate school. In fact, it was something that I rarely questioned until a recent trip to the doctor. After waiting an hour for what was supposed to be a twenty-minute affair, I met with an unusually quiet doctor who spoke only in cryptic “Hm”s and “I see”s. Maybe it was an attempt to fill the odd silence that hung in the air. Maybe I wanted to justify the absurd amount of time I had spent reading parenting magazines in the waiting room. Whatever the reason, I must have talked quite a bit because as my doctor was leaving, she popped her head back in and asked rather sarcastically, “Any other questions?” I abruptly shook my head no because the look on her face was one that I instantly recognized. It was the one that often accompanies the collective groan of the class when a That Kid announces that he has yet another question. And that’s when it suddenly struck me – was I the That Kid of healthcare? Was I being a Difficult Patient?
Identifying the That Kid in the classroom is fairly cut-and-dried – either you are a That Kid (may God help you) or you are not. But alone in the examination room, there is no one else to claim the title of “difficult patient” and spare you of the unwanted moniker. You are instead, left to your own devices to recognize the subtleties that distinguish an empowered patient from a difficult one. As someone who’s sat in a crisp paper gown and experienced just this, I know that this is no easy task.
Part of the challenge arises from the notion that the empowered patient and the difficult patient start out with similar intentions in the beginning. Both seek to fully understand their health condition and make the best possible choices for themselves. With easy access to research on the latest medical treatments to Symptom-Checker apps for your smart phone, educating oneself on matters of health has never been easier. In fact, we are often encouraged by many forms of media to speak up, ask questions, and take charge of our course of treatment as patients. I can’t tell you how many times a night a colorful butterly flies around on my television screen beseeching me to ask my doctor about Lunesta.
There are countless articles that celebrate the empowered patient who questioned their initial diagnosis and personally sought the medical treatment that ultimately saved them. Yet, for every success story are articles that serve as cautionary tales, detailing the various fates of a difficult patient. After all, it doesn’t take much for a well-meaning patient to become a cyberchrondiac. Thanks to WebMD, even a splitting headache can seem like a brain tumor with five clicks of a mouse. Blessed with a wealth of information, it seems that what separates an empowered patient from a difficult one is the judicious use of the many tools we have at our disposal.
Just as the wise upperclassmen were around to offer guidance on your first days of college, the Washington Health Foundation is here to help you from becoming That Kid in the doctor’s office. As always, you are never alone in your endeavor to make the best choices for your health. Empower yourself and improve your health by taking part in the Healthiest State Campaign. Make the most of your healthcare as a well-informed patient by consulting with our Personal Health Advocates. While we can’t provide you with a hard-and-fast rule for identifying difficult patients, we can help keep you from becoming one. And trust me when I say that there is no app for that.
Hannah McKenna graduated from college in 2009 with a degree in psychology. She then went on to earn a PhD in psychology with her ground-breaking dissertation on the diagnosis and treatment of That Kids. While her work primarily focuses on rehabilitating That Kids, she also provides therapy for students who have had traumatizing That Kid experiences.
