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Alt: One doodle with dog leg says to another doodle, “My physician diagnosed jargon mouth — and a canine protuberance on my lower appendage.” The other doodle says, “Sounds rough! But what’d she say about that dog on your leg?”
Google “diagnosis and prognosis” and you’ll find a whole bunch of webpages devoted to explaining the difference between these 2 words. And the difference is clear — diagnosis is what you have, and prognosis is how it will probably play out.
So why all the confusion, dear readers? Most of us only hear these words in a medical context. And that context may be scary! When someone’s getting a stressful health update, it’s no time to make them parse medical speak.
That’s why we say avoid the diagnosis-prognosis confusion altogether and skip ’em both.
For diagnosis, just tell people what they have.
Instead of: He was diagnosed with jargon mouth disorder.
Try: He found out he has type 2 jargon mouth.
Instead of: Your diagnosis is dog leg.
Try: You definitely have dog leg. Anyone can see there’s a dog stuck to your leg.
For prognosis, just tell people what to expect.
Instead of: Here’s your prognosis for your chronic jargon mouth.
Try: Here’s what may happen next with your jargon mouth if you don’t change your arcane ways.
Instead of: The prognosis for people with dog leg is very good.
Try:Your life with dog leg won’t be so bad — you’ll always have a friend, and your left calf will never get cold.
(Okay, so maybe don’t use those exact words — but you get the idea.)
The bottom line: The “prognosis” for “diagnosis” is confusion — so just tell people exactly what they need to know.
Here’s a question we get a lot from health care providers: Are there ways I can measure a patient’s health literacy?
The short answer is yes. There are a lot of tests and tools (or “instruments,” as scientists might say) available. Here are 3 you may have heard of:
Rapid Estimate of Adult Literacy in Medicine (REALM) is all about word recognition. Patients are asked to pronounce (but not define) a list of common medical words. It doesn’t measure numeracy, but it only takes about 3 minutes.
Test of Functional Health Literacy in Adults (TOFHLA) measures reading comprehension and numeracy using common medical scenarios. It takes about 22 minutes. A shorter version (the S-TOFHLA) takes 7 minutes, but skips numeracy.
The Newest Vital Sign (NVS) measures reading comprehension and numeracy using questions based on an ice cream nutrition label. It was designed specifically for primary care settings and takes about 3 minutes.
All of these are useful screening tools, and we don’t recommend one over the other. Which one you use depends on factors like the setting, the amount of time you have, whether you need a tool in Spanish, and so on.
But it’s crucial to remember, dear readers, what these tools don’t measure — for example, cultural context or patients’ ability to actually use the information to make decisions about their health. That’s why our philosophy is to take a universal precautions approach to communication: Everyone benefits from clear, plain language and actionable information.
The bottom line: Focus on improving communication for everyone, not on measuring individuals.
Alt: A sad semicolon doodle stands below a treehouse, where several other punctuation doodles are hanging out. The treehouse has a sign that says, “NO semicolons allowed!”
Many of us here at We ❤ Health Literacy Headquarters also ❤ a certain controversial piece of punctuation: the semicolon. If prompted, we might even gush about its unique and graceful qualities. So it’s with a heavy heart that we must declare — once and for all — that the semicolon has no place in plain language communication. Here’s why.
First, many people don’t use the semicolon properly, making it a recipe for confusion. Because you share our grammar geekiness, dear readers, you know that semicolons are used to link 2 phrases that could stand on their own (i.e., independent clauses) but are related enough to warrant a stronger connection. Unfortunately, many people don’t know this; thus, they use it incorrectly.
Second, the semicolon can feel very formal and academic — stuffy, even. And while we don’t think it necessarily deserves the bad rap, we can’t deny the association (think legal documents, research papers, and never-ending lists).
So, skip the semicolons in your plain language health materials. If you find yourself staring helplessly at a sentence with a semicolon, the best solution may be to break it into 2 sentences. (After all, a semicolon connects 2 standalone phrases, right?)
You can also consider the other punctuation marks in your grammar toolbox. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re particularly partial to the em dash ( — ). And if you’re using semicolons to separate a long list of items, try good ol’ fashioned bullets instead.
But the semicolon fun isn’t totally over — in your personal correspondences and literary contributions, disregard this advice and use ’em to your ❤’s content.
The bottom line: Semicolons aren’t invited to the plain language party — but you can make it up to them later.
We thought we’d take a look back at our most popular posts and reflect on all the fun we’ve had. So without further ado, here are our top 5 posts from year 1:
Thanks to all of you for being such involved readers over the last year. We look forward to getting more of your great topic ideas and hearing your thoughtful comments for years to come!
The bottom line: It’s our birthday and we couldn’t have done it without you!
Alt: Three doodles look at a drawing of a street with a “patient” car and a “personnel” van traveling in opposite directions. The words “health literacy is…” appear above the drawing. One doodle says, “See?! It’s a 2-way street!”
We know that you all ❤ health literacy — and we bet you have some serious health literacy skills, too. But were you born with your amazing ability to parse tricky health information? Or did someone teach you these skills? We’re guessing it’s the latter!
This week, we’re taking a little trip down memory lane and sharing our appreciation for a document that helped lay the groundwork for educating health literacy superstars like you.
In 2008, The Centre for Literacy (now, sadly, closed) hosted a summit that set out to redefine health literacy, develop rationale for teaching health literacy in schools, and guide the creation of curricula. The product of their work was the Calgary Charter on Health Literacy. And it’s awesome.
The Charter provides a framework for some of our very favorite activities: providing health information that’s easy to use and understand, helping people transform information into action… we could go on. And on and on.
But the Charter’s most valuable contribution may be that it redefines health literacy as a mutual exchange between people and their health systems — a 2-way street of health information.
Just look at this gem from page 2:
“Prior definitions have largely identified health literacy as relating to the patient, and have under-emphasized the role of health system personnel. One of the goals of a health literate society is to have a more equal power relationship between those who work in the health system and those who use it.”
Alt: Several pill bottle doodles hold signs that say things like, “Friends don’t let friends do dose,” and “Don’t dose it!” One doodle watching from a distance says, “Well, I guess that dose it for me!” Another groans.
As you doubtless already know, dear readers, “dose” certainly isn’t the most confusing health-related word out there (don’t even get us started on “hypertension”). But it’s also not our favorite — it’s both a tad clinical and a touch vague. You don’t have to strike it from your vocabulary completely, but think of it like a pungent cologne: “dose” works best in small doses. Use it sparingly!
So what’s the alternative? To get around “dose,” try talking about the “amount” of medicine or “how much” people need to take. Observe:
Make a list of all your medicines, including how much you take and when you take it.
The amount of medicine you need depends on how much you weigh.
Sometimes, you can also replace “dose” with a specific quantity.
Instead of: If the first dose doesn’t make you feel better, it’s okay to take a second dose.
Write this: If 1 aspirin doesn’t make you feel better, it’s okay to take 2.
And once in a while, “dose” really is the best word for the job. For example: If you miss a dose, take it as soon as you remember.
So use your judgment — just don’t over-dose your health content! [Mic drop.]
The bottom line: Follow our prescription for clear communication and use “dose” only as needed.
As we’ve discussed before, people struggle with numbers. Today, we’re talking about how to explain common measurements — or, in other words, “How much stuff is that?”
It’s hard to visualize common measurements like an ounce, an inch, a cup — or a ton. An easy solution to this problem is to make comparisons to everyday objects.
For example:
A serving of meat is 3 ounces (about the size of a deck of cards).
The cleanup program removed 500 tons of dirt from the area around the chemical spill — that’s 50 dump truck loads!
Here are a few other comparisons that we’ve found helpful:
2/3 cup = a doorknob
1/4 inch = a pencil eraser
1 inch = the widest part of a quarter
3 inches = the long side of a credit card
6 inches = the long side of a dollar bill
1 ton = a Toyota Yaris hatchback
Your equivalents may not always be exact measurements, but that’s okay. The idea is to give people a general sense of “how much.”
The bottom line: When writing about amounts, sizes, or weights, help out your readers by making comparisons to everyday objects.
Readability scores can give health communicators an immediate sense of accomplishment. Who among us hasn’t been pleased to say, “My material went from an 11th-grade reading level to a 6th”? It may be tempting to rest on our readability laurels, but what does a reading grade level really tell us?
Unfortunately, not all that much. Readability formulas use the number of syllables, words, or sentences in a document to calculate a score in the form of a grade level, like 10th grade. This means that, theoretically, your audience needs at least a 10th-grade reading level to understand your content.
And that’s exactly what the score is — theoretical. If you take that same document and score it using 3 different readability formulas, you’ll get 3 different scores. And they may range from 8th grade up to 14th. Not all that helpful, is it?
In other words, readability scores can miss a lot. They don’t assess whether your material:
Uses words that your audience understands
Uses easy-to-read fonts and numbers in a clean design
Has a tone that’s appropriate for your audience
Includes images that connect to your main messages
Takes your audience’s knowledge and experiences into account
Our advice: Focus on the factors that help your audience understand and use your material, and readability will follow.
So, if readability formulas are flawed, why do so many people keep using them? Great question! Check out Rethinking Readability Scores: Part 2 to get the answer.
The bottom line: Skip the grade-level readability formulas and focus on making edits that will help your readers understand and use your content.
If we told you that your chances of getting health literacy fever are 33%, would you be concerned? What if we said you have a 1 in 3 chance of coming down with the fever? Would that make a difference?
We know that people struggle with numeracy, so talking about numbers in any form can be a challenge for health communicators. Throw probabilities, fractions, and percentages into the mix, and it only gets worse.
People tend to understand frequency expressions (like “1 in 3”) better than percentages, so that’s a good place to start. But even then, people may have a hard time getting meaning from numbers alone.
So along with the numbers, we suggest giving context in plain language. For example, “You have a 1 in 3 chance of getting health literacy fever. That puts you at very high risk.”
And, as is often the case in clear communication, adding a visual can help. For example:
So this, dear readers, is how we work with numbers:
State numbers as clearly as possible
Use plain language to give context
Add visuals to help people understand their meaning
The bottom line: Pay attention to numeracy — use simple numbers, offer context in plain language, and use visuals to drive the meaning home.