One of my favorite "techno" songs is one called "Technologic," by the band Daft Punk. According to Wiki, "This song features an electronically pitch-raised voice chanting imperative statements related to technological pursuits." Indeed, "plug it, play it, burn it, rip it, drag and drop it, zip-unzip it" are all spoken in rhythm to a percussive beat. That doesn't sound too different than some days in our busy MRI department, where "screen it," "scan it," "check it," and "flip it" make up the "song" of our workday.

And while I am all for getting the job done and moving through the workload of the day, I think we all need to pause and remember the importance of our interactions with patients.

The "It" has changed

"Flip it" is a term used in our department to describe putting a patient back into the transport system queue for the return trip to their hospital room. Because of the speed at which some scans are completed, we "flip" some patients in the system immediately after confirming their arrival in the department.

It is amazing that not so many years ago, MRI scans took well over an hour to complete, especially factoring in the screening conversations and waiting for the radiologist to check the scans before the patient left. Now, with screening sheets faxed prior to the patient's arrival; with some protocols as short as 5 minutes; with radiologists' immediately reviewing images on PACs, little-to-no direct interaction is possible with some patients. Gone are the days of developing little mini-relationships with patients as we partnered with them to figure out how to get the best images out of the MRI beast. I can still remember working with patients to obtain great exams despite the machine's unwillingness to cooperate; it was a real "us versus it" partnership.

The problem today is that the "it" has changed. No longer is "it" the machine-instead, "it" is the patient, and he or she is often scared of what you may find or confirm. They have frequently heard MRI war stories from family and friends about being left for hours in a cold machine with no contact. Often they share stories of overhearing conversations that could mean many different things or of being talked down to as if they should just know how to do the things we ask them to do.

We technologists should fight the urge to become the very thing we have at times been accused of becoming: Button-pushers who have no real feelings for the people they are caring for; "techno-nerds" that care more about machines than about people. I know this is an unfair characterization of most, if not all, of the people I work with. But in the adrenaline rush of getting through the day, it is easy to lose perspective. The next patient becomes more important than the one in front of us; getting "it" done and moving on becomes the name of the game.

Nothing like a warm smile

Recently, our department administrator started requiring each division manager and supervisor to directly interact with at least one patient a day for the sole purpose of asking the patient how he or she is doing and is there anything we can do to improve their current or next visit. The patients' answers were recorded, and we meet as a group once a week to discuss them. This interaction has helped me tremendously to put the "it" back where "it" belongs. Instead of approaching patients because a problem exists and I am looking for the quickest way to solve the problem, I can now actually look at them and smile, ask them how they are doing and genuinely interact with them without having to worry about the schedule or their protocol.

The positive effect on my perspective has been great, and I am looking to implement something similar with each staff member. "Screen it," "scan it," "check it," "flip it" are all fine words to help get the work done, but they can't replace a warm smile, direct eye contact or even a heartfelt hug.

Here's to putting the "it" back where "it" belongs.

Charles T. Stanley is the Imaging Manager in the divisions of MRI, CT and Advanced Visualization at the University of Virginia Medical Center.