For over thirty years, I worked as a healthcare professional and radiation therapist in the Bay Area, California. When I first started, writing in a patient’s chart required a pencil—yes, a pencil. We used white-font pencils to meticulously fit all the necessary information onto the treatment sheet in a hard-paper chart. These charts were filed in drawers and bookshelves, a far cry from today’s digital systems.
A decade later, computers began revolutionizing healthcare. They offered significant advancements but also caused chaos whenever they went down. Despite the challenges of adapting to machines, we humans managed to persevere and gradually witnessed how technology surpassed our abilities.
In school, I learned to calculate treatment plans by hand, relying heavily on memory and manual computations. Fast forward two decades and students graduating from radiation therapy programs no longer need to perform complex calculations; the software does it for them. The human brain’s role has shifted dramatically.
In just one department I worked in, three different types of treatment software were introduced within ten years. While some upgrades offered marginal differences, software companies excelled at marketing their products. Medical departments purchased these programs to stay competitive and attract more patients, even when the actual benefits were minimal.
The Rapid Pace of Change
The relentless pace of technological advancements created a growing gap between my generation and the newer one. Now that I’ve stepped away from the fast-moving life of healthcare, I still find myself wrestling with the same dilemma: Where do we draw the line to ensure machines don’t completely take over, dehumanizing our lives?
At large medical establishments, I’m often given the option to check in for appointments via my phone. If I decline, I’m greeted by a kiosk that processes payments and checks me in without any human interaction. Over the years, I’ve noticed fewer people in waiting rooms, fewer receptionists welcoming patients, and more machines replacing human roles.
The Human Touch
I don’t know about you, but I miss the personal touch. I miss conversations with the person behind the desk who might offer an encouraging word. I miss knowing my insurance premiums were supporting a human employee. I miss the days when doctors sat across from us, engaged in genuine conversations, and truly listened, instead of focusing on their computer screens to take notes. I miss being fully examined by a physician, rather than relying solely on bloodwork or imaging results.
Now, my doctor begins visits by asking for consent to record our conversation via an AI device. This shift makes me feel more anxious than before because so much of the human care I once relied on has been lost in translation between humans and machines. In the past, my doctor and I would exchange personal stories, fostering a connection that went beyond the clinical. I’d leave feeling cared for, understood, and connected to a human member of my medical team—not just a series of machines.
Reclaiming Human Connection
Next time you visit a doctor, take a moment to notice how important it is to connect with another person. Whether it’s a patient, a receptionist, or the physician, human rapport matters. Take the time to say hello, smile, or greet someone who might need a moment of connection. These small gestures remind us that while technology has its place, it should never replace the essence of human care.
Namaste,
Shab
