Verbal First Aid: What You Say Can Be As Important As What You Do: Part 1

You're a state police trooper working the road when you come upon the scene of a motorcycle crash. You immediately notice an ominous sight, a gruesome trail of blood that forks in two directions. Your partner follows the trail on the left. You follow the tire marks to the right and find the victim.

You're well trained in emergency medicine. You know what has to be done to prepare and deliver this man to the nearest hospital. But do you know what to say to him that might, at such a critical moment, help save his life?

When F/Lt Mike Harvitt was a trooper with the Michigan State Police, he came upon such a scene. The motorcyclist had attempted to pass a mini-van on the highway and, while cutting in front of the van too soon, he was knocked off his bike and run over. When Harvitt and his partner arrived on the scene, all they could see of the accident was a blood trail that split part way down the road.

"My partner found his leg, and I found him," Harvitt says. "He was responsive and bleeding badly, going into shock, pupils restricted, and his respirations were very fast. While I assessed his injuries, I put my hand on his chest to keep him from trying to get up. I had to use my belt to put around his leg to stop the bleeding."

At this point, Harvitt, who has taught first aid and emergency medicine at the Michigan State Police Academy, knew what todo. However, what came next was, at that moment, as life-saving as all his first aid techniques. What he said made a difference.

"The victim asked me how his leg was," Harvitt says. Harvitt knew if he told him it was somewhere on the other side of the road, the victim would have panicked, sending his system--heart rate, pulse rate, bleeding--into a further downward, life-threatening spiral. Instead, Harvitt said to him, "Your leg is injured. For now, though, I need to know if you have any other areas on your body that need my attention."

The victim paused to reflect on what else he noticed, and he tuned into other parts of his body. Harvitt touched and inquired about his chest and an arm which looked all right. As they talked, Harvitt noticed a change in the man's demeanor. "I could feel his heart rate and respirations slow down, and he began to breathe easier. There was no doubt he was still in pain. However he was talking about other areas of his body other than that injured leg. I acknowledged the injury and was honest, but then I changed the focus and put the focus on the rest of his body.

"I've always had pretty good verbal skills," he continues. "But in this case, I saw how acknowledging the injury, and then changing the focus, can work to make a big difference in the outcome."

Harvitt was so impressed by having first-hand knowledge of Verbal First Aid that may have helped save the victim's life, he incorporated the technique into state police training sessions and he presents the information at conferences across the state.

How Words and Images Affect the Body and Recovery

Words can mean the difference between pain and comfort, panic and calm, and even life and death.

Why is this true?

Every thought we have generates a physical reaction. You wake up from a nightmare and your palms are sweaty, your breath is shallow, and your throat is dry. You open your eyes and realize you are safe and in your own bedroom. There is no threat. And yet, can you roll over and go back to sleep? No. You get up, check the locks on the doors, go to the bathroom, drink a glass of water, and turn on the television to watch commercials for Ginsu knives at 3 a.m. because your body has to process the cascade of chemicals that was aroused--simply by an image, a thought. This is true for a range of thoughts--from an embarrassment that fills your cheeks with blood and races your heart, to a thought of love that turns on an irrepressible smile and makes your knees weak.

People in fear, panic, pain, shock, or crisis are in an "altered state of consciousness." It's as if they are in a trance. You've probably seen it in the faraway look in accident victims' eyes, in their rapid breathing, in their garbled speech or even in their total stillness.