What is patient-centred care?

What do we mean by patient-centred care? This isn’t a trick question but an attempt to reach a consensual answer.

A common response is that it’s about placing the patient at the centre of the care process, and seeking to address what matters to them, akin to a tailor made suit, rather than using a ‘one size fits all’ approach.

Some definitions focus on the responsibility of health professionals to inform patients about their healthcare and give them a choice. It could be more than this, with patient-centred care being about the partnership between practitioner and patient, with this relationship rooted in sharing power, rather than upholding a paternalistic attitude.

It does not mean doing everything that a patient asks; it is not ‘patient centred’ to give out diazepam and opiates without restriction when the consequence can be a hard-to-manage addiction. Being patient centred in this scenario might include a discussion about the reasons for a request, negotiating and sticking to a management plan, arranging additional psychiatric support, or a number of other options.

Patient centred care is also about designing services that meet the needs of patients rather than the needs of the organisation. This implies that the public should participate in the planning and redesign of services, and the reshaping of policy.

There are pitfalls. One commentator points out: ‘Three proposals topped a poll of options for reform at the ‘listening exercise’ attended by more than 1,000 people in Birmingham: extending GP opening hours, annual health MOTs and more walk-in centres. This familiar list of the preoccupations of the professional middle classes confirms the way in which this focus group approach places the demands of the worried well over those of the seriously ill (or even of the not very well, but socially marginal).

‘Listening exercises’ tend not to include those who are ill, particularly the elderly, children, people with mental illness or learning disabilities, families with young children, those who are not fluent in English – in fact, the majority of our patients and certainly those patients most in need of healthcare services. These proposals will increase costs out of all proportion to benefits and are likely to disrupt continuity of care for those patients for whom this is the most important aspect of primary care services.’

The concept of patient-centred care encompasses all of the above – from the organisational, redesigning services end of the patient-centred care spectrum through to the individual interactions side. However, health professionals, educationalists, managers and patient representatives are all developing different meanings that reflect their own history and position. Without a consensus about patient-centred care, it is hard to see how we can agree on how to deliver it. 

Being patient centred does not just mean responding to the demands of a vocal few. It is also about providing accessible, reliable care to the sick, the sad, and the frequent attenders, and treating all patients with common decency.

How do you weigh up medical advice?

I’ve been visiting family and friends, and as often happens, we compare medical notes. How easy is it to visit your GP? Who has the worst osteoarthritis? What medication have each of us been prescribed for high blood pressure? All of our social networks and norms are in play. Our family has a tendency to regard illness as a weakness,, and any visit to the GP involves careful callibration against the family norms.

One sister prefers to seek alternative solutions, changing her diet, drinking apple cider vinegar for her joints, and doing yoga. Another does not vist her GP or look for health issues on the internet, but pursues a very healthy lifestyle. My brother has sought private advice, my mother has checked with multiple medically-qualified relatives and friends. My dear dead dad used to boast about the top specialists he used to see, but would check in with me to see if I had heard of them, for validation.

Ever since I started medical school, I have been a sounding board for all sorts of friends and relatives, even before I had started my clinical years. In recent years, this has increased in frequency, and I have been wondering about this. Do people trust their GP and other qualified health professionals less? We can check everything on the internet, but sometimes that information is unreliable.

There are a number of factors in play. First of all, access to the internet has been growing over the last twenty five years. Artificial intelligence means that search engines can prioritise and summarise information quickly, no appointment required, any time and anywhere. Official sources of information such as NHSinform and patient.info can be a boon to health professionals, who can signpost to them for a modern take on the information leaflets we used to stock, and more likely to be up-to-date. Specialist websites provide a sense of community and support for conditions such as diabetes or muscular dystrophy. However, reliance on digital support for healthcare marginalises some groups. Statistically, older women are the least likely to be IT literate or to trust digital solutions, but low income, deprivation, language and cultural barriers are all in play. The affluent, urban, busy professional has become the target audience.

As a health professional, when I speak to a patient with high levels of understanding of their condition, and good health literacy, this is both a blessing and a stress. The fully engaged patient can participate in discussions about various health care options, can evaluate information, and challenge my own assumptions and knowledge base. This same group of patients may defer decisions so that they can evaluate and research their health questions further. It can be time consuming and intense, and of great value to the patient.

The second factor is less tangible than reliable information. It is trust. In our modern NHS, there are fewer GPs per head of population. At the same time, an older and less healthy population requires more health care. I could expand at length about the reasons for the reduction in whole-time equivalent GPs, but that is for another day. The upshot is that it has become harder to get an appointment with a GP and harder to see a GP that you have seen before. Continuity of care is disappearing, a loss to GPs and patients alike.

I polled a group of friends and relatives where they sought healthcare advice. The general approach seems to be to consider what issue to address, then to speak to friends and relatives first, perhaps supplemented by google. Only about half of these discussions led to a GP being involved at all, and any outcomes were further reviewed with relatives and friends. Clinically trained relatives, and those with the same condition, were the favoured sources of advice and discussion.

I asked these same friends and relatives about whether they usually saw the same GP, and whether they trusted their GPs. None of them could say who their GP was, or saw the same GP each time. Only half of them said they trusted their GP. I will quote one perspicacious reply:

How telling. The erosion of continuity of care has eroded trust and understanding, nuance and personalised medicine. Increasingly available and more complex information makes it harder to discriminate and evaluate the reliability of the information, how much weight to give it and whether it applies. Without trust from a wise navigator, where is realistic medicine? How do people without a clinically qualified relative cope? If General Practice has been reduced to a ‘painting by numbers’ service, how can personalised choices be considered?