Understanding Isolation, Quarantine, and Social Distancing

Alt: Two doodles practice social distancing by standing 6 feet apart.

Here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters, of course we’re paying close attention to health officials’ efforts to slow the spread of coronavirus. And we can’t help but notice they’re using lots of words that seem to mean the same thing — like isolation, quarantine, and social distancing.

As you’ve surely noticed, people are panicking — and confusing terms won’t help. The possibility that you’ll need to quarantine yourself is especially worrisome if you don’t really understand what that means!

As health communicators, our job isn’t just to report that isolation, quarantine, and social distancing are happening — it’s also to help people understand those terms. If you need a refresher yourself, check out our plain language definitions:

  • Isolation is for people who already have the virus. It means keeping them separated from people who don’t have it. Hospitals are isolating people with COVID-19 from other patients, for example.
  • Quarantine is for people who may have been exposed to the virus. It also means keeping them separated from other people — like a “wait and see” approach in case they turn out to be infected. This usually means staying at home and avoiding contact with other people for 14 days.
  • Social distancing is for everyone! It’s a catchall term for a variety of efforts to prevent the virus from spreading in communities by keeping people farther apart. When schools close or sporting events are canceled, that’s social distancing. Or when a restaurant seats its customers at least 6 feet apart? Yep, social distancing.

And what’s with the 6-feet rule, you ask? That’s how far experts think respiratory droplets containing coronavirus can travel through the air when someone sneezes or coughs.

Oh, and while you’re helping your audiences understand all these words, make sure they know what a pandemic is. And try to bust a few coronavirus myths and misconceptions while you’re at it.

The bottom line: If you’re writing about isolation, quarantine, and social distancing, explain these terms in words your readers understand.

Tweet about it: Need to explain isolation, quarantine, and social distancing in your #coronavirus #HealthLit materials? @CommunicateHlth can help: https://bit.ly/2U10EAu

Outbreaks and Epidemics and Pandemics — Oh My!

Alt: A newscaster doodle says, “Bringing you by-the-minute updates on the outbreak. Erm… epidemic. Pandemic?”

You probably know a thing or 2 about the coronavirus pandemic by now. Or is it an epidemic? Outbreak? Wait… what’s the difference?

Health professionals and journalists have been throwing these terms around a lot lately. But since most people don’t know exactly what a pandemic or epidemic is — or how they’re different — the words aren’t all that helpful. You might even call them a little scary (okay, more like panic inducing).

As health communicators, we can resist the urge to hop on this viral jargon bandwagon. (“All the cool health experts are saying it!”) Instead, we can explain these terms in plain language — and help people feel a little less panicky while we’re at it.

Not sure you fully understand the difference between an outbreak, an epidemic, and a pandemic? Don’t worry, dear readers — we’re here for you.

First, let’s clear up the misconception that these terms refer to a disease’s severity. Not so! They’re actually about how widespread a disease is. With that in mind, here’s what you and your readers need to know:

  • An outbreak is a sudden, unexpected increase in the number of people with a disease — usually in a relatively small geographic area, like a city. Think a cluster of TB cases in Chicago.
  • An epidemic is an outbreak that spreads to a large geographic area, like a whole country or region. Think Ebola in West Africa in 2016.
  • A pandemic happens when an outbreak goes global, covering several countries or continents. Think the flu in 1918 — or, you know, COVID-19 right about now.

To be clear, there’s some flexibility in these definitions. You may have noticed, for example, that health professionals continued to call the coronavirus outbreak an epidemic even after it spread to several countries beyond China. That’s partly because, at the time, most of the cases outside China were still related to people who traveled to China.

Health experts don’t always agree on when it’s time to start calling an epidemic a pandemic either. Lucky for you, making that call isn’t your job. You just get to write about it!

But rather than focusing too much on how to classify coronavirus, how about fighting myths and misconceptions by sharing accurate information with your audiences? And maybe throw in a few tips for preventing the spread of coronavirus, too!

The bottom line: “Outbreak,” “epidemic,” and “pandemic” are commonly misunderstood, fear-inducing words. If you need to use one, explain it clearly — and try not to dwell on it.

Tweet about it: Writing about #coronavirus? Confused about the difference between an outbreak, an epidemic, and a pandemic? @CommunicateHlth can help: https://bit.ly/3aLGS1m

Communicating About Coronavirus

Alt: A doodle thoroughly washes their hands.

If you’ve been following news of the novel coronavirus, you may have noticed a dangerous contagion spreading faster than the virus itself: health misinformation.

With customers avoiding Chinese restaurants and racist attacks against Asian people on the rise, there’s an urgent need for some coronavirus myth-busting. (Even Corona beer isn’t safe from this viral hokum!)

And with predictably murky messaging from the current administration, it’s even more important for health communicators to get this right.

So follow these tips to inoculate your audiences against coronavirus claptrap:

  • Fight racial stigma with neutral naming. Early talk about the “Wuhan coronavirus” fed the false impression that people of Chinese descent are more likely to carry the disease. So stick to coronavirus or COVID-19, and skip terms that tie the virus to a particular place or people.
  • Promote helpful prevention steps. If you’ve written about hygiene tips for flu season, tips for preventing coronavirus should sound familiar: wash your hands (a lot), sneeze into your elbow, and practice social distancing. (The government of Vietnam even inspired a coronavirus prevention dance craze.)
  • Discourage harmful hoarding. Stocking up on shelf-stable foods and prescription medicines is a smart idea — whether for coronavirus or general emergency preparedness. But when regular people buy up all the medical-grade face masks and gloves, it leaves health care providers undersupplied and unprotected.
  • Emphasize the importance of community. Staying home when you’re sick is absolutely the right idea — but unequal access to paid sick leave makes it easier said than done. And low-income households can’t necessarily stock up on food and medicine in advance. So encourage local governments, employers, community organizations, and neighbors to reach out and support people who are sick — because keeping our communities safe is always a team effort.

The bottom line: Fight the spread of coronavirus with clear public health communication.

Tweet about it: Want to help your community prepare for #coronavirus? Spread helpful public health messaging with #COVID19 #HealthLit tips from @CommunicateHlth: https://bit.ly/2IlHL4J

Writing Gender-Inclusive Materials About Pregnancy

Alt: Three pregnant doodles representing different gender identities stand under the words “Pregnant People.” A kid doodle points at their parent’s belly and says, “Brudder!”

Here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters, we always try to use the most inclusive and relatable terms for our target audiences. That means skipping patronizing terms for older adults, stigmatizing lingo for people in prison, and scary words for moms and babies.

But even seemingly neutral terms can exclude some of the people you’re trying to reach. Take “pregnant women” for example. Seems fine, hey? But women aren’t the only people who get pregnant. Transgender men, gender nonbinary people, and others do, too.

This may seem like no big deal, because the majority of pregnant people identify as women. But simple style choices like the singular “they” and the gender-neutral term “pregnant people” can make your materials more welcoming for soon-to-be parents from across the gender spectrum.

So consider swapping terms like “moms-to-be” for more inclusive terms like “people who are pregnant” — or try using “you” for a more conversational tone.

Instead of this:

  • Pregnant women should talk to the doctor about how to stay active.
  • Expectant mothers need to see their doctor for regular checkups.
  • Folic acid is recommended for all moms-to-be.

Try this:

  • If you’re pregnant, talk with your doctor about how to stay active.
  • Pregnant people need to see their doctor for regular checkups.
  • If you’re pregnant or planning to get pregnant, take folic acid every day.

The bottom line: When writing about pregnancy, try making your materials inclusive for parents-to-be of all genders.

Tweet about it: Writing about #pregnancy? @CommunicateHlth has tips to make #HealthLit materials more welcoming for all pregnant people: https://bit.ly/2PuI54Z

Addressing Older Adults

Alt: An older adult doodle sees a pamphlet that says, “Calling all olds…” and responds, “Harumph!” The same doodle sees a pamphlet that says, “If you’re 65 or older…” and responds, “That’s me!”

Here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters, we know it’s especially important to follow health literacy best practices when communicating with older adults. But before you can address this audience’s health needs, you need to figure out what to call them!

Just like talking down to older adults, slapping fusty old labels on your health materials can really alienate your audience. If a healthy, active 65-year-old sees a brochure about services for “the elderly,” chances are they’ll think it’s not for them.

So remove the confusion and address your materials to a specific age range, using the more personal “you” when it makes sense. And if you need a broader label, stick to “older adults.”

Instead of:

  • Elderly people are at higher risk for falls.
  • All seniors need the pneumococcal vaccine.
  • Geriatric populations may benefit from tai chi to maintain balance.

Try:

  • If you’re age 65 or older, you’re at higher risk for falls.
  • All adults age 65 and older need the pneumococcal vaccine.
  • Tai chi can help you maintain your balance as you get older.

The bottom line: When writing for older adults, skip the oldfangled labels and just specify the age range.

Tweet about it: Working on #HealthLit materials for #OlderAdults? Check out @CommunicateHlth’s tips for how to address this audience first. (Hint: it doesn’t involve “the elderly”): https://bit.ly/2wzUE8H

Book Club: Because Internet

Alt: A doodle sits in front of their laptop holding “Because Internet” by Gretchen McCulloch. The laptop screen shows the same doodle holding the same book in front of the same laptop, and so on and so forth.

As health communicators, we’re always thinking about how to tailor content so it really speaks to our audiences. And as digital products and content continue to reign supreme, that means knowing how our audiences “speak” online.

Think pieces about how the internet is destroying our language abound — but internet linguist Gretchen McCulloch says that what’s happening to English “because internet” is anything but destructive. In Because Internet, McCulloch offers an engaging, research-backed explanation of how today’s digital climate is transforming the English language.

So how is this relevant to health communicators? Keeping up with emerging digital trends can help us create engaging and relatable public health campaigns. Just look at this emoji-based sexual health campaign for teens from NYC Health & Hospitals, or the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission’s quirky meme-based Twitter feed.

But jumping on every linguistic fad isn’t an automatic win for health communicators — check out this Twitter thread where McCulloch and her followers try to decipher a puzzling emoji-based public health message. As always, dear readers, it pays to test your materials with your audience!

The bottom line: Internet language is here to stay — and Because Internet is here to tell you all about it!

Tweet about it: What do health communicators need to know about internet language? The We ❤ #HealthLit Book Club reviews @GretchenAMcC’s “Because Internet”: https://bit.ly/39xYld4

The Making of We ❤︎ Health Literacy (Redux)

As we look ahead to the next decade of We ❤︎ Health Literacy, we thought we’d give you a behind-the-scenes look at how an idea becomes a post.

As you may have noticed, our more topical topics run the gamut from celebrity nonsense to serious breaking news. And that’s because we draw inspiration from situations our team encounters in everyday life, out and about on the internet, and in the wilds of health communication.

Usually, it happens like this: one of our writers is minding their business, doing their thing, when all of a sudden their brain says, “Hey, this would make a great We ❤︎ Health Literacy post!”

Alt: A doodle brain says, “I have ALL the ideas!”

Perhaps they’re inspired by a casual board game with friends.

Or they’re relaxing in front of a flashy Hollywood film when, like a sign from the movie gods, Kate Winslet spouts a public health lesson too good to pass up.

Alt: Three doodles watch the movie “Contagion” and eat popcorn. “Stop touching your face!” says one doodle to another.

Other posts start when a writer hears some crummy health-related language that really gets under their skin.

And still others have their roots in some long-simmering grammar vendetta that we just have to clear up once and for all.

Alt: A doodle clutches a piece of paper and says, “The Oxford comma has a place in this world and it’s in. This. Sentence.”

Armed with this health lit inspiration, our intrepid writer pitches the idea, gets lots (!) of input from the rest of the team, and drafts the post.

Then the We ❤︎ Health Literacy team edits, edits some more, and then copyedits just one more time.

And when the text is done, the real fun begins. Our doodler-in-chief brings the words to life with a droll illustration…

Alt: The doodler-in-chief says, “…So the doodle says ‘that’s not MY monkey…’” to other We ❤ Health Literacy team members. An upside-down doodle says, “I don’t get it.”

…and when it’s all assembled, it’s publishing time!

But posting the finished product is never the end of the story. That’s where you come in! From the moment we hit send, we’re eagerly anticipating responses from our loyal readers.

Sometimes you write in to share your wholehearted agreement.

And sometimes you’ve got a bone to pick with us.

Alt: A doodle labeled “you” types on a computer and says, “Dear ‘WHHL’ crew, I’ve been saying this for YEARS…”

Whatever your take, your feedback gives us new ideas and helps us craft future posts. (And, you know, confirms that we’re not just shouting into the void.)

The bottom line: Thanks for being a part of We ❤︎ Health Literacy, dear readers — we couldn’t do it without you.

Tweet about it: Ever wonder what goes on behind the scenes of a #HealthLit blog? @CommunicateHlth explains their process: https://bit.ly/38Tps2c

Writing About U-Turns in Health Advice

Alt: A doodle with dog leg is watching TV. A newscaster reports, “Vitamin B12 cures dog leg!” Two weeks later, the doodle’s dog leg is worse. He watches as the same newscaster says, “Vitamin B12 makes the dog on your leg enormous and aggressive!”

As health communicators, we help people find answers to all kinds of important health questions: When do I need to start getting mammograms? How can I eat healthier? Who needs a flu shot? And readers know these answers are trustworthy because we back them up with the best available evidence.

But what happens when new evidence overturns trusted health recommendations? We’ve all seen the flip-flopping news flashes on the healthiness of red wine and the endless back and forth on the dangers of red meat — but these 180s go way beyond food and drink choices.

For example, experts have recently been questioning the need for those familiar lead aprons during x-rays. In 2016, a review of clinical trials found that a commonly recommended knee surgery was actually useless. And back in 2002, researchers announced the dangers of then-widely-used hormone therapy during menopause… only to reverse course (again!) and re-recommend the therapy for many women.

These turnarounds can call into question the very concept of evidence-based health information. If the evidence is always shifting, one might wonder, how can we ever trust it enough to make good health decisions?

First, dear readers, a philosophical note. One way to look at this ever-shifting evidence landscape is that these reversals show the overall health of the system. Researchers need a healthy dose of skepticism to see the evidence clearly, and reevaluating published studies is part of the job.

And if you hear someone saying that their health advice is so sacrosanct that no evidence could ever disprove it, that means it was never evidence based to begin with!

Now for the practical part. Follow these tips to help your readers feel confident about their health decisions in the face of all these about-faces:

  • Stick to (relatively) solid ground. One way to avoid retractions is to avoid publicizing shaky findings in the first place. So focus your materials on recommendations with a broad evidence base and skip flashy recs based on skimpy findings.
  • Cite your sources. If you’re writing for consumers, linking to jargon-heavy journal articles isn’t the best way to instill confidence. Instead, cite the organization or agency behind the new recommendation (or non-recommendation), and offer a plain language explanation of the evidence that caused the shift.
  • Be up front about what you don’t know. Sometimes we don’t have a definitive answer to a health question — and that’s okay! Just be honest with your readers. For example, rather than leading with what might cause a disease and leaving out the uncertainty, try starting with “experts aren’t sure what causes it.”
  • Help your readers spot pseudoscience. New evidence that contradicts old evidence is one thing. A health claim based on no evidence at all is quite another! So do your part to arm people against bogus health baloney.
  • Promote shared decision-making for tricky health choices. Even if you follow all these tips, your readers may not trust a recommendation that recently made a U-turn. And it can be hard for even the most media-savvy reader to tell fact from fiction on the internet. So encourage people to talk through thorny situations with their doctors — and use the best available evidence to make a decision together.

The bottom line: Help your readers navigate evolving evidence to make health decisions based on what we know — and what we don’t.

Tweet about it: Dealing with changing #COVID19 info and recs is an ongoing challenge for health communicators. Check out @CommunicateHlth’s #HealthLit tips for writing about health info flip-flops: https://bit.ly/2Gea3x4 #communicateCOVID

Do Vision-Related Links Work for Users with Vision Loss?

Alt: A doodle points to a “see more” link and says, “I find the phrasing in this context to be…[drum roll]…inoffensive!” Other doodles agree.

Here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters, we try to make all our health information accessible for people with vision loss or blindness. And that doesn’t just mean designing web content to work with screen readers — it means thinking critically about the language these users see online. Oops! There we go using a vision-related word where it doesn’t belong… or does it?

The English language (and the English-language internet) is chock full of these vision-related terms. So this week, we’re teasing out whether links that invite users to “see more posts” are equally inviting for people with vision differences.

Etiquette guides for interacting with people who are blind tend to stress that words like “see” and “look” are fine to use in conversation. But our research didn’t turn up any evidence-based guidance on using these words in web content — so, dear readers, we took to Twitter to find out what real-life users had to say.

And, drumroll please… the folks with vision loss and blindness who responded to our (very unscientific) poll didn’t have strong feelings about vision-related words in links.

Online, people tend to read words like “see” as signposts that show them where to click — not references to physical sight. Using these words in links is an accepted convention of web content, and trying to avoid them is likely to get awkward. (“Perceive more posts” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, hey?)

Of course, language and web best practices are always evolving — and different people with vision loss may have different preferences about this stuff. All the more reason to keep asking questions and, as always, test your materials with your audience!

The bottom line: It’s okay to use vision-related words like “see” in links. And if you’re wondering what language people prefer, just ask!

Tweet about it: Are vision-related links like “see more posts” weird for users with vision loss or blindness? @CommunicateHlth investigates: https://bit.ly/2RANlEL #HealthLit

Writing About People in Prison

Alt: A doodle wearing a shirt that says “put people first” stands with their arms around a smiling “#” and “1.”

You may already know that people who are in prison are more likely to have certain health problems, like hepatitis C, HIV, and asthma. Maybe you’ve written about these disparities before — and asked yourself the question behind this week’s post: What’s the best way to refer to people who are in prison?

The obvious choices — like “prisoners” or “convicts” — may seem okay at first. But these words have strong negative connotations and tend to obscure the fact that people who are in prison are … well, people.

Even when the goals of a material are positive, this type of dehumanizing language can have serious negative consequences. It leads to stereotyping and discrimination — which, in turn, can make it harder for people to get jobs or find housing after they’re released from prison. You can probably guess, dear readers, how that affects their health and well-being.

Research has also shown that people who were formerly incarcerated are more likely to have poor mental and physical health. To be clear, we’re not blaming these outcomes on terminology alone — but using stigmatizing language can’t help. So what’s a better option?

Longtime readers know we’re big fans of people-first language here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters. For example, we say “people with diabetes,” not “diabetics.” People-first can also be the right approach when writing about incarceration. It gets the point across without reducing people to one part of their identity.

Keep in mind that some people who are in prison may use words like “prisoner” — and they may prefer that others do, too. Just like so many questions in health communication, the best way to answer this one is to test your materials with your audience!

So the next time you find yourself writing (and testing your writing) about people who are in prison — or even chatting about it in casual conversation — try these alternatives on for size:

  • Instead of “prisoners” or “inmates,” say “people who are in prison”
  • Rather than “ex-offenders” or “ex-cons,” go with “people who have been released from prison”
  • Instead of “convicts” or “felons,” try “people who were convicted of crimes”

The bottom line: Put people first to humanize language about people who are in prison.

Tweet about it: Words like “prisoner” and “convict” come with stigma attached. What’s the alternative? @CommunicateHlth offers #HealthLit tips for writing about people in prison: https://bit.ly/2Ncx0o7