We are faced with multifarious choices on a daily basis –
and, here in the UK, we are luckier than most; living in a democracy increases
the opportunities in which to choose.
However, the perpetual bombardment of information via a
multitude of digital platforms – and the constant onslaught of options it
brings with it – can sometimes feel a little intrusive. How best do we extract
the necessary from the ridiculous? We need to wade through the murky darkness
of ever-increasing rubbish to even catch a glimpse of some informative
enlightenment at the end of this tunnel. I like to believe we all surf that information
superhighway, largely dodging the dross, except perhaps when curiosity gets the
better of us and we take a sly delve into Buzzfeed, Vice or the Huffington Post.
Bipolar
Conversely, doing what I do, I absolutely welcome with open
arms this 24/7 access to information that the internet facilitates. And yes,
that is somewhat bipolar in attitude and the pendulum of feeling can swing violently
in a matter of minutes. We can all become a ‘Google’ authority on the most
obscure of topics, with a simple press of a key. Previously untapped nuggets of
‘information’ gold is now mined furiously by us all – and ‘everyone’s an
expert’, as they say. And, who are ‘they’, anyway? Hang on, while I search for
it…
Got a pain in the arse? You can Google it, unfriend it, #hashtag
it or take a photo of it – moody, pouting face optional.
Heart
I only know a neighbour and her family are away for half
term from my Facebook newsfeed. We go days without seeing or speaking to each other but we’ll ‘like’ each other’s photos. How bizarre – yet how typical – in this
21st-century world. We all get sucked into the game that is social media – it
takes a Luddite or a tough cookie not to. Sometimes, it feels like an exchange
of pointless information; other times, it’s a welcome interruption in a life
bogged down by commitments. Seeing photos and reading status updates or tweets from
friends far afield can lift any heart on a tough day.
But the problem really is that, with all this information
flying past our faces, it is sometimes the most obvious thing staring square at
it that we fail to see.
Hefty
Husband was due an ankle operation last week. He has
arthritis in the bone and already had surgery a while back for which he paid a
hefty sum in order to get it done ASAP as the pain was excruciating. Roll on a
few years and the pain is as bad as it ever was. So, last week he was due to
have different surgery (carried out by the same consultant) via the NHS.
And, as was expected of him, he trotted off with his
ankle-that-needed-fixing to his pre-operative assessment. It was at this point all
important communication broke down.
Husband failed to ask the right questions to elicit the
necessary information and nurse failed to deliver the information he needed to fully
understand the recovery procedure.
Subsequently, my husband found out – just as he was about to receive his pre-med on
the day of surgery – that this operation – fusing of the bone due to severe
arthritis – would incapacitate him severely. He wouldn’t be able to put weight
on that foot for three months (nor drive) and, further, would need crutches for
the subsequent three month. Minimal weight bearing = a good recovery; not good
news for a chap whose business is all about selling cars and who loves his
walking and cycling.
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| Making a choice... |
Bones
Fusing bones is a pretty big operation, we now know. The
bones are held together using screws and new bone grows across, creating one
bone where there were once two. He was told: ‘It normally takes between 12–14
weeks for the fusion to be complete and your bone continues to become stronger
after this…’ and so on. Subsequent surgery
was likely.
With all that information he had previously failed to gather
now finally presented to him, he declined surgery on the day. He feels awful
about this, having wasted NHS time and money but his lifestyle and work
commitments could not allow for all that recovery period. Period.
And, it is this juggling of a heavy workload with many family
demands in a fast-paced world that wrong foots us all at times. The nurse at
the pre-op consultation – more interested in finding out if husband was an
actor she’d seen on TV or not – may have been at the end of a long shift and
ready to get home to her kids. Equally, husband – having sped to the
consultation after a long, stressful day – knew he needed the pain in his ankle
relieved and hadn’t thought to question the length of recovery time or, indeed,
the restrictions.
All that was needed was a simple conversation. All that it
became was simply a missed opportunity.
Sole
There’s little wrong with communicating in a digital world but
there is, perhaps, something very wrong if this is the sole way of sharing knowledge.
And when it fails, it fails miserably. One person’s joke is another’s
sensitivity, and you cannot read faces nor sense moods so, in text, honesty can
appear blunt, and advice prescriptive or patronising rather than helpful.
We all need to be questioning people on the important
things, not Googling it, because you cannot read between the lines on a laptop.
In tandem, they may work well and at many levels. But, nothing beats a
face-to-face conversation for clarity – and, perhaps, some things are best left
in the real world. And, at important times in the company of important people,
virtually everything should be left there.
As my daughter so eloquently puts it in her own blog*
recently, ‘the problem with technology isn’t its abundance, but the reluctance
of most people to put it down’.
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