The Kitchen is Closed!

Most physicians have a relatively high level of emotional intelligence and therefore understand that effective communication may take several forms or styles depending on the circumstances. 

For example, direct communication may be best for specific, detailed instructions to a team with a complex task. Indirect communication may be preferred in situations where more tact is needed or if the risk of conflict is high as in the following example.

Like with many families, we make an effort to eat together in the evenings. Recently, it seemed, however, that a few hours after we were finished and the kitchen had been cleaned, the snacking began. 

The problem was not that the snacks were consumed in lieu of what was prepared earlier, nor even the time of day they were consumed but the aftermath of paper plates, Tina’s burrito wrappers, boxes of Spicy Cheez-Its, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese packets and boxes, Ramen noodle pouches, Kraft Singles cheese wrappers, empty tubs of Garden Fresh Screamin’ Hot salsa, and not empty bags of now stale Tostitos Scoops tortilla chips identified by my wife the next morning. [After proofreading, my wife added salsa and tortilla chip crumbs that dripped on the floor and couch cushions, silverware, popcorn bags, and a reference to a “frat house”.]

Despite directly communicating her concerns about this nocturnal foraging, the behavior continued until she cast down a proclamation that after 8:00 pm “The kitchen is closed!”

Of course the late night snacking continued but now there was an incentive to hide the evidence which ultimately accomplished the primary objective which was to keep the kitchen clean.

This might be seen as an example of combining direct and indirect communication. 

I have also found that the use of analogy, particularly from examples in popular culture, makes it easier to connect with students and residents I have only known for a short time and who are likely to be of a younger generation.

I have never been much of television viewer probably because of the demands of my education and profession but after intense pressure from my trauma rounding team I tentatively agreed to consider the HBO fantasy drama television series Game of Thrones, based on George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice. I had to binge 64 hours to catch up.

Those of you who know me know I don’t typically develop a casual interest in things. I am intensely focused on details and abhor loose ends. I learned all about the Starks, the Lannisters, and the other families south of The Wall. I studied the maps of Westeros and Essos and analyzed how the lesser known characters were connected. I became a Thronie.

I should note that even in the fictional series, beheadings (and other amputations) and violence were not effective ways of communicating or changing opinions.

I celebrated my accomplishment by buying a bottle of Game of Thrones branded ale to have with dinner.

Even though the kitchen was officially closed, I also enjoyed an after hours treat consisting of an entire tub of salsa with chips and a plate full of gummy worms from the candy jar. 

That night I had a nightmare that I was in a real life Game of Thrones. Even after waking up and realizing it was just a dream, I would reenter the fictional world where I left off after falling asleep again. It was not a pleasant experience. 

Maybe “The kitchen is closed!” for a reason.