Presence Matters—Creating Focus Together in the Exam Room
Presence Begins at the Door
Life is full. For all of us.
By the time a doctor walks into an exam room, they may already be carrying the weight of earlier patients, difficult conversations, urgent calls, and personal concerns waiting outside the door. Patients and caregivers arrive with their own stack of worries, questions, and distractions. None of us come in empty-handed.
And yet, the moments that matter most often come down to presence.
When the Room Feels Fragmented
I remember one appointment when one of Mike’s doctors was called out of the room three separate times while we were together. He was trying to get another patient admitted, and each time he returned, it was clear he was flustered—mid-process, waiting on calls to be returned, juggling competing demands. I understood the urgency. I understood why those calls mattered.
Still, it was frustrating.
Each interruption broke the rhythm of the visit. It felt like our time was fragmented, like we never quite settled into the conversation. In hindsight, I can see that this was one of those moments where compassion needed to flow both ways. If that doctor had been interrupted repeatedly on Mike’s behalf, I would have been grateful. Remembering that helped soften my reaction. Understanding doesn’t erase the impact—it does restore perspective.
Presence doesn’t require perfection. It requires awareness.
Technology Isn’t the Problem—Disconnection Is
I’ve also watched doctors type notes into computers during appointments. At KU Medical Center, those notes were printed and handed to us at the end of the visit, so they needed to be completed in real time. Knowing that made a difference. When a doctor took a moment to explain what they were doing— “I’m documenting this so you’ll have it when you leave”—it transformed what could have felt like a distraction into transparency.
Creating Space for Questions
One doctor handled this beautifully. He dictated his notes out loud before we left the room and then asked if we had questions. I thought it was brilliant. We didn’t understand every word he dictated. Hearing the summary gave us space to process and time to realize what we wanted to ask. It made the visit feel complete rather than rushed.
Presence is a Shared Practice
As patients and caregivers, we bring our own distractions into the room. I remember one visit when Mike had asked me to order some electrical parts he needed. I pulled out my computer and started placing the order while we waited. If the doctor had walked in mid-transaction, would I have immediately closed the laptop and refocused? Probably—but that moment made me more aware of how easily attention can drift.
Cell phones are another shared challenge. They are woven into modern life and modern medicine. Doctors may be required to use them for patient care. Practices may expect constant availability. Still, every interruption—on either side—breaks connection. It sends a subtle message that something else is competing for attention.
I’ve had doctors ask when my phone rang whether I needed to take the call. The answer was always no. In that moment, this conversation—this appointment—was the most important place I could be. Letting the call go to voicemail felt like an act of respect for the time we were sharing.
What I’ve come to believe is this—doctors are being asked to do too much. To multitask in environments that demand presence. To switch rapidly between roles when the human brain is designed to focus on one thing at a time. Patients and caregivers feel the strain of that expectation, even when no one intends harm.
When This Moment Matters Most
Connection happens when both sides are willing to arrive fully—if only for a few minutes.
Have you ever had an appointment where it felt hard to settle in because attention kept being pulled elsewhere? Or a moment when you realized you weren’t fully present yourself?
Those moments matter—not as failures. As reminders of how powerful true presence can be.
If you’d like to share your experience, I invite you to reflect by reaching out to me using the Connect With Me button below.
Every story needs a soundtrack.
This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.
