What’s on the Menu? Thanksgiving, Slow Communicators, and The "Right to Know"

As we head toward Thanksgiving, the number one question on everyone’s mind is: "What’s for dinner?"

We all want to know what’s on the menu. Is it turkey or ham? Is Aunt Linda bringing her famous stuffing? Is there pecan pie? We ask because we care about what we put into our bodies. If someone walked up to you, dropped a spoonful of mystery food on your plate, and walked away without a word, you probably wouldn't eat it. You’d want to know what it was first.

Our residents are no different.

Just like we want to know what’s being served at the holiday table, our clients and their families have a Right to Know exactly what is in that medication cup.

The "Menu" at the Med Cart

You are balancing client needs, phone calls, and strict schedules. You know the "8 Rights" of medication administration by heart. But today, I want to focus on the one Right that often gets lost in the hustle: The Right to Know.

It is easy to fall into a routine. But simply handing over a cup isn't enough. Residents have the right to know what they are taking and why.

A Lesson I Learned the Hard Way

I want to share a personal story because I want you to know that even supervisors make mistakes.

Recently, I was giving medication. I approached a resident—let’s call him Mr. Miller. Mr. Miller is a sweet man, but he is a slow communicator. It takes him a long time to process what he hears and form the words he wants to speak.

I was rushing. I checked his ID, told him, "Here is your medication," and administered. I thought, Great, he consented.

Later that day, his family was upset. They asked me, "Why did he take that medication? He told us last week he didn't want it. I was floored. I told them, "He didn't refuse. He just took it."

Silence vs. Consent

As I reflected on it, I realized my mistake. Mr. Miller didn't choose to take the medication; I just moved too fast for him to stop me.

Because he is a slow communicator, he needs time to and formulate the sentence, "No medication" By moving at my speed—the speed of a stressed staff member—I robbed him of his Right to Know and his Right to Refuse.

I realized that time is a safety tool. If I don't pause to let the resident process what I'm giving them, I'm not caring for them; I'm just processing them.

Three Steps to Honor the Right to Know

As we head into the holidays, let’s make a pact to slow down just a fraction. Here is how we can honor the Right to Know:

1. Narrate the Menu: Don't just say "Here are your meds." Say, "Here is the pink pill for your heart and the white one for your fluid." Give them the details they need to recognize the "food" on the plate.

2. Watch the Face: If a resident can't speak fast, look at their eyes. Are they furrowing their brow? Are they hesitating? That hesitation is a question they haven't asked yet.

   
   

3. The Thanksgiving Pause: Before you tip that cup, count to five in your head. Give them the dignity of a moment to decide if they are "hungry" for what you are serving.

   

   The 5-Second Pause

   Happy Thanksgiving!

   
   

   This Thursday, when you are sitting around the table and someone asks, "What kind of pie is that?" remember Mr. Miller. Remember that everyone feels safer when they know what is on the menu.

   Thank you for the incredible work you do to keep our clients safe and healthy. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!