It’s Patient Access Week, a long-standing annual tradition from the National Association of Healthcare Access Management to recognize the contributions of Patient Access professionals in patient communications, management and their experience. As lots of my work is for companies in healthcare, this is the kind of calendar milestone on my radar. But it also provides a handy vehicle for driving home why stories featuring real people communicated in accessible language more than just matters.
In healthcare, a successful access strategy that turns quantitative outcomes into qualitative understanding influences broader reimbursement and faster uptake. In this instance, what we’re doing is narrative reporting — essentially, shaping a story about people and their experiences to provide the relatable ‘why’ behind the figures.
All brands and companies benefit from human context communicated in the everyday words regular people use when they exchange stories. There’s a chemical shift when the brain is ‘on story.’ I’ve written about this before: Cortisol is typically released at the beginning when a new idea is introduced, and tension begins to rise. Cortisol wakes people up, heightens attention. Oxytocin is released next as characters and proof points are introduced and nuances become apparent. This chemical promotes trust, empathy and relatability. When the narrative comes full circle, the brain is rewarded with a hit of dopamine.
Do you think the same result can be achieved when the words used in the story are industry (any industry) lingo like “leverage,” ‘synergy,’ ‘disruptive,’ ‘seat at the table,’ ‘innovation,’ ‘bridge the gap,’ ‘turn-key solution,’ ‘drill down’? There are so many more, but I’m making myself slightly nauseated just writing these from my own discipline…
The thing is the best stories are simple and evocative, instantly understandable, make the listener think and call to mind something or someone from their own experience. They’re memorable. Ordinary vocabulary makes them persuasive and helps make clear whatever’s complex, like data or science.
Here’s an example: I’m working with a specialized biotechnology company right now and discovered a senior member of the leadership R&D team has a very moving, personal story about why he is driven to develop a new approach for treating Parkinson’s disease. As this scientist shared his background, I encouraged him to set the scene (in this case, rural New Zealand) and just chat with me. We covered his feelings, observations, motivations, the benefits of tango, the actions he and the R&D team are taking, what he hopes to achieve, the connections his colleagues have had with the disease and more. During our conversation, he never once lapsed into language that one needed to be a scientist to understand.
The result? An essay that inspired in advance readers a connection that was almost physical; a sense of being transported into his world. And a balance to the scientific documents, fact sheets and research papers that describe and document the status of development to date.
The plan is for this scientist’s story to be the first in a series featuring other members of the R&D team who, individually, have deeply personal reasons for working in this area and for this company. Though the process of bringing to new medicines to patients is highly complex, what success will look like is the relief (or maybe even a smile) on the face of someone with the disease when the medicine gives them new hope for living their lives. The work is as far as it can be from simple, but the way we communicate about it shouldn’t be.
It’s the job of the communicator to find the stories, bring them to life and make them accessible. Stripping out the parlance is where you find the connection. In the words of Kurt Vonnegut, “Simplicity of language is not only reputable but perhaps even sacred.’
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