Beata Drzazga – entrepreneur, founder of BetaMed S.A., educator in the field of communication in medicine, shows that empathy and professionalism can go hand in hand. In her latest series of ebooks, “On relationships and support during illness,” she teaches that good care begins with conversation and kindness. We talk about why communicating with patients is an art, how to build a culture of support, and why medicine without conversation with patients loses its meaning.

Ms. Beata, you publish a series of e-books devoted to the relationships between patients, their families, and medical staff. Where did the idea to educate patients in this particular area come from?

It was born out of observation and experience. I have been working with patients for over 35 years and I see that the moment of diagnosis is often the beginning not only of treatment, but also of enormous confusion. A person suddenly learns that they are ill and does not know what to do, what to ask, how to talk to the doctor, how to tell their family that they need help. Many patients remain silent for fear of receiving an arrogant response, of being misunderstood, or because it is not appropriate to ask questions.

That is why I decided to create a series of e-books that will help them navigate this situation step by step. These are practical publications on how to talk to your doctor or other healthcare professionals, how to express your needs, how to respond to unwanted advice, and how to build strength in difficult moments. I want patients to feel that they have the right to information, to emotions, and to co-decide about their treatment.

These guides are also intended to help families. Because illness affects more than just one person. In a sense, the whole family is affected. Communication, empathy, and the ability to listen can all make even the most difficult times easier to get through.

 

W In your book, you write that communication is as important as therapy. That’s a strong statement.

 

Communication is the foundation of the treatment process. Patients who do not understand what is happening to them have no control over their situation and begin to feel afraid. Fear weakens their motivation to fight the disease. If patients feel that they have a partner, that someone is listening to them and taking them seriously, they begin to open up to treatment.

 

I’ve seen it thousands of times. Patients calm down when a nurse says, “You’re in good hands,” when a doctor takes a few minutes to explain the test results in simple terms. Those few minutes can change the entire course of treatment. Good communication is not an add-on, it is an integral part of treatment. In my opinion, every medical school should teach this as intensively as pharmacology or anatomy. Because words and behavior either heal or hurt.

 

Strongly emphasizes Ms. also the importance of the patient’s family .

 

Because the family often suffers alongside the patient, only in a different way. Loved ones accompany them in their pain, anxiety, and helplessness. They want to help, but often don’t know how. And it is this ignorance that leads to tension, frustration, and sometimes even conflict.

 

In my work, I have repeatedly seen situations where families, with the best of intentions, began to take control of the patient, made decisions for them, criticized their choices, and imposed a daily routine. Meanwhile, what patients need most is to feel that they still matter, that their voice counts. That is why I teach families to help with respect, not pity. Sometimes support means not doing everything for the patient, but giving them tenderness, closeness, and a sense of security.

 

It is also important for caregivers to remember to take care of themselves. A burnt-out, exhausted caregiver is unable to provide real support. That is why I teach that helping others requires balance. You need to find time to rest, sleep, and live your own life. This is not selfishness, it is emotional hygiene.

 

She writes also about borders. This is a difficult concept, especially in the relationship between the patient and the family. How do you understand setting boundaries in practice?

 

Setting boundaries is something most of us were not taught. We tend to think that love and care mean total devotion. But true care also means respect for the other person, and boundaries are always part of respect.

 

For the patient, this means the right to make decisions about themselves, even if they are sick and weak. For the family, it means the right to rest and have their own space. Without this, frustration and guilt arise. I cared for a family in which the son, out of excessive concern, did not allow his sick mother to decide for herself what to eat for dinner. She felt incapacitated, and he felt tired. It was only when they both learned to talk about their needs and set boundaries that their relationship calmed down.

 

Boundaries do not destroy bonds. They organize them and make them more mature.

 

In your publication, you also touch upon the subject of social pressure affecting people with illnesses. What do you mean by that?

 

Social pressure is a subtle but very important phenomenon. When someone falls ill, they immediately hear dozens of opinions: “Don’t give up,” “You have to fight,” “Do what helped my friend.” These are supposed to be words of support, but they often cause enormous tension. The sick person feels that they must be brave, that they have no right to be afraid or weak. But emotions such as fear, sadness, and uncertainty are a natural part of illness.

 

Well, unwanted advice is a broad topic. How do you think it can be rejected without hurting the other person?

 

With empathy. Most people who give advice have good intentions, but they often do so out of fear or a need to control. They want to do something because they find it difficult to watch someone suffer. That’s why it’s worth thanking them for their concern, but making it clear that you make your own decisions.

 

Saying, “I understand that you want to help, but I prefer to follow my doctor’s recommendations,” sounds calm but firm. In my guide, I give specific examples of such messages because I believe that language is a tool for protection. Words can create a space where everyone feels heard and respected.

 

Your work combines medicine, education, and business. How do you manage to combine all of these things?

 

This requires constant vigilance. I always say that hospitals and clinics are not businesses, but communities of people providing help. Every member of the team, from doctors to ambulance drivers, must understand that they are working for people, not for the system. That is why communication training and meetings where we talk about emotions, burnout, and ethics are so important.

 

I believe that in the 21st century, medical entrepreneurship without empathy is an anachronism. Patients can sense whether they are being treated with compassion. And if they are, not only are they more willing to cooperate in the treatment process, they simply recover faster.

 

Interviewed by Mateusz Banaszak
Source: rpbiznes.pl