Recently my mother was fired by one of her longtime doctors.

Not because she missed appointments or ignored medical advice, but because she asked a question. She wanted to understand her treatment options before agreeing to one that had left two of her friends with debilitating, irreversible side effects. She was scared and tried to advocate for herself.

The moment my mom expressed hesitation, the doctor’s demeanor shifted. Her voice rose. She painted a catastrophic future. When my mother began shaking and crying, the doctor grew impatient, suggesting she see a psychiatrist if she was “having this kind of response.” When my mother asked again about alternative treatments, the doctor snapped: “You’re off my schedule. You’re no longer my patient.” My mom is 81.

I share this story because it illuminates how caregivers and patients often must navigate conversations that feel impossible, and how important it is to find your voice. My mom was shocked by her doctor’s behavior, but she picked herself up, found a new physician (and a different treatment), and kept moving forward.

As a caregiver, you deal frequently with healthcare professionals. How do you speak up for yourself or for your person in a complex clinical landscape, especially when what you’re being told doesn’t sit right?

In my work as a communication coach and certified life coach, I work with clients who become tongue-tied when the stakes are high. After 17 years and more than 5,000 hours of coaching, I have realized that the number one thing that affects how someone communicates is their mindset. How do you feel about yourself and the situation at hand? If there is self-doubt or fear, it will likely influence what you say and how you say it.

As a caregiver, have you found yourself in any of the following scenarios?:

• You want to seek a second opinion about your person’s condition or treatment plan but are worried the first doctor will be insulted or upset.
• You would prefer for your person to see a different provider within the same practice but feel hesitant to request a switch. 
• Your person is not showing symptoms at their office visit so the doctor, only seeing them for 15 minutes at their best, dismisses your concerns, saying, “They seem fine.”
• Your person’s doctor has limited time and didn’t answer your questions or brushed them off.
• Your person’s medication is creating extreme side effects, but the doctor tells you to stay the course even though you see the adverse effect it is having.

If any of these sound familiar, you’re not alone. Hopefully the person you care for has a compassionate team, but sometimes even the kindest doctors deliver news in a brusque way. Maybe they are also frustrated that the system doesn’t allow for longer visits with patients. Many factors can create a charged exchange.

One small shift in how you show up can change the entire dynamic in the room. It begins with noticing the story you’ve got running in the background of your mind.

In my practice, I coach clients to get curious about their interpretations of other people’s behavior and recognize the impact it has on the way they communicate.

Let’s take the example of hesitating to mention to your person’s doctor that something is off with their medication. Maybe the story you’re telling yourself is, “They’re the expert, what do I know?” This belief can lead you to ignore your gut and stay quiet, which may lead to lesser care for your person. Because you know a lot about them. You’re the one who is with them from day to day. But if a voice in your head is insisting that your lived experience doesn’t have as much value as the doctor’s opinion, it will affect the action you take, which has a ripple effect.

If a doubting voice creeps in, take a moment to notice it. In 12-Step recovery circles there is a popular acronym: PAUSE, which stands for Postpone Action Until Serenity Enters. The space between the inciting feeling and taking action is where clarity lives. It’s where you remember: “I know my person better than anyone here.”

When you’re triggered, slow yourself down, breathe, and let the intensity subside before speaking. This pause helps you shift from reacting to responding.  

Here are some steps you can take when the fear hits:

• Trust your instincts. Don’t immediately dismiss them.
• Notice the feelings that are arising from the situation and sense where they are in your body. Is your chest tight? Is your heart racing?
• Name the emotion you’re experiencing. Maybe you’re feeling dismissed, overwhelmed, or unsure. Labeling the feeling helps you move into the thinking part of your brain.
• Take a few breaths and remind yourself that in this moment, you are physically safe.
• Get curious about the feeling. What is the voice telling you? Is it true? Are you certain?
• Check in with the part of you that is worried. It could be stuck in the past and believe you are still a young child who should never challenge authority. Maybe you were punished harshly for doing so. Let this part of you know that you are now an adult advocating for your person and ask if it’d be willing to soften back so that you can express your concerns clearly and without that familiar anxiety.
• Choose your words. How do you want to show up in this moment? What can you say that is neutral and clear?

Leading with curiosity tends to create a smoother path toward resolution with less defensiveness on the other side. It might sound like this:  

“I’m curious about this course of treatment. In my experience, it has caused these side effects, which have made my person feel much worse. I would like to hear about other options.”

You may not always remember these steps in the heat of a stressful doctor’s visit, but using any part of this approach can help. Practicing in low-pressure moments can also help these steps become more accessible under stress.

What my mother experienced with her doctor was unfortunately not her only unpleasant run-in with a thoughtless provider. She served as a longtime caregiver to my father before his death three years ago. One of his doctors told my mom she must have dementia if she didn’t remember him calling her with my dad’s results. The doctor had not called. My mom was waiting by the phone. Instead of apologizing for the lapse in communication, he lashed out at her. This compounded the anxiety my mother already felt as a caregiver waiting for news about her husband, whom she cared for at home.

I do not mean to attack providers or imply they all behave this way. Physicians are human and they have bad days. Still, they need to be mindful about how they communicate with patients and their caregivers and the impact it can have. My parents stopped seeing that doctor and found someone with a more considerate bedside manner. Now my mom is learning to stay grounded in her interactions with her doctors so she can fully absorb what they are saying. In her book The Unexpected Journey, Emma writes about bringing someone with you to take notes during a medical appointment if you have trouble staying present. If this is an option for you, consider doing the same.

As a caregiver, you hold knowledge about your person that no physician can glean from a chart or a 15-minute appointment. Your insight is essential. When you speak from that perspective, you’re not challenging authority — you’re ensuring your person receives the care they deserve. That is advocacy, and it’s a skill you can strengthen, one breath at a time.