Small Acts of Compassion Don’t Just Enhance Healing. At University Hospitals, They’re an Essential Part of it.

Cindy Pennyman is a cashier in the University Hospitals Cleveland Medical Center cafeteria, where she cashes out a long line of our patients and their families every day – many of whom might be having one of the most disconcerting days of their lives. She even sometimes sneaks away from the register for a few minutes to console someone in need of a kind word or two.

“I’m not a nurse who can take care of you,” she says. “I’m not a doctor who can heal you. And I can’t give out any medicine. But what I do have is a love for giving people happiness in the morning, because I have plenty to spare.”

‌At our community hospital UH St. John Medical Center, financial counselor Jenna Korte is considered a “guardian angel” for helping guide patients through the often-dizzying maze of hospital billing. When patients are having trouble covering their medical expenses, Jenna walks them through the financial assistance application process, often allowing patients to contact her directly by email or by phone as issues arise.

At UH Seidman Cancer Center, Supportive Oncology Nurse Practitioner Kris Lester credits the compassionate end-of-life care her dad received there with her decision to go back to school to get a master’s in nursing. She would make her primary focus palliative care, only willing to consider positions at UH Seidman Cancer Center so that she could give back to families what one special nurse who cared for her father did for her.

These are just a handful of examples of compassion at work at UH – there are literally thousands more, both clinical and non-clinical. But they have something important in common. It’s the idea of being together, of our caregivers forming a formidable alliance with a patient or family member as they encounter health challenges – not just being neutral observers.

We in healthcare often don’t like to talk about suffering. It’s our sworn enemy. We got into the field in the first place to alleviate it. But when suffering inevitably occurs, compassion is really the only appropriate response. In basic terms, the word means “to suffer together,” which seems appropriate given the examples I’ve just laid out. People helping people through hard times. Importantly, however, the modern definition of compassion also includes the desire to alleviate that suffering. For me, it’s both navigating difficult terrain together and working to make a difference for our patients that characterize the unique brand of compassion we have at UH.

‌Here's why we do it: We know, in fact, that compassion truly matters in the health and well-being of our patients.

We know, for example, that something simple like sitting down at a patient’s bedside and taking a few minutes to thoroughly explain their care plan helps determine whether they attend follow-up appointments and fill their prescriptions – or they do not. We know that being accessible to our patients over phone and email helps reduce their anxiety after cancer surgery, helping them heal and gain confidence again. And we know that when we as caregivers are friendly and welcoming and create a sense of belonging, no matter our role, patients feel at home. In some cases, they may even reveal personal details that may affect their care. These and other small, daily acts of compassion help keep the suffering at bay.

Of course, this approach to care isn’t unique to UH. In their insightful book “Compassionomics: The Revolutionary Scientific Evidence That Caring Makes a Difference,” Stephen Trzeciak and Anthony Mazzarelli provide convincing evidence from around the country that compassionate care results in better patient outcomes. They cite improved recovery rates, higher patient satisfaction and reduced complications. In addition, they show that compassionate interactions can lower patients' stress levels, enhance their adherence to medical advice and even reduce the perception of pain.

But what I believe is unique to UH is how we’re very deliberately and thoughtfully building compassion into everything we do as a health system. From revamping our phone and online appointment booking system to easing the process for patients paying their bills, the goal is to minimize our patients’ stress -- and distress -- during what is a difficult time. Dealing with life-changing health problems is challenging enough without added barriers. We are working every day to be a truly compassionate health system that recognizes that reality.

‌One of our new pediatric urologists at UH Rainbow Babies & Children’s Hospital is a shining example of this approach. Juan Moldes, MD, is working to ensure that our surgeons at UH – whose work is necessarily highly technical and results-oriented – are also growing in the compassion and empathy they show our patients and their families.

What does this mean in practice? To enhance compassion, Dr. Moldes is helping our surgeons implement a “compassion pause” before they begin a surgery, for both children and adults. Adult patients are awake and present for the “pause,” where they chat with the surgical team about their lives and background, while the surgery team previews the “pause” to pediatric patient families in the pre-op unit.

During the “compassion pause,” the surgeon takes about two minutes to speak to the patient and assembled team with four goals in mind. First, to help the team be totally present in the moment and connect on a human level with the patient under their care. Second, to remind them of their purpose as caregivers in alleviating suffering. Third, to remind them of the courage they show everyday as caregivers – and may need to show today. Fourth, to create an environment of belonging where everyone can contribute their knowledge and wisdom for the good of the patient. You can read more about the approach here.

“It brings to everyone in the OR consciousness, focus, attention and commitment to the patient,” Dr. Moldes says. “This is something we created here. It’s not described in the literature.”

And it’s growing. Dr. Moldes has been interested in these concepts for many years, but it’s only since his arrival at UH a year ago, he says, that his approach has gained more traction.

“When I started to speak loudly here about this concept, I felt a lot of support from other surgeons and other caregivers in the OR,” he says.

One recent surgical patient described the “compassion pause” as the best medical experience of his life. “In a stressful situation, it brought some calm,” he says. “It’s the idea that someone took the time to acknowledge the anxiety that I was going through.”

‌This is just one story, with many more like it sure to come. But it’s a good reminder of an important point. Even with all our years of training and experience as healthcare providers and the amazing expertise we can offer our patients, it’s the human connection we make with them that often means the most. Patients seek care, but they also seek a guide, a companion. Navigating the healthcare system can be overwhelming, even frightening for some. But by guiding our patients along their medical journey as trusted companions – a word with the same root as compassion – we can better help them thrive.