The Handbook of Discourse Analysis
The Handbook of Discourse Analysis The Handbook of Discourse Analysis
478 Suzanne Fleischman PAST MEDICAL HISTORY: Positive only for spontaneous abortion in 1980, at 12 weeks gestation. She has had no other surgeries. She denies any trauma. She denies any allergies. REVIEW OF SYSTEMS: Remarkable only for headaches in the morning. She denies any dysuria, frequency, or urgency. She denies any vaginal discharge or significant breast tenderness. HABITS: She denies tobacco, alcohol, coffee, or tea. MEDICATIONS: She takes pre-natal vitamins daily. FAMILY HISTORY: Positive for a mother with sickle-cell anemia. It is unknown whether she is still living. The patient also has a male child with sickle-cell trait. Family history is otherwise non-contributory. Medical records are, conventionally, highly condensed summaries of large amounts of information. The example above is more fleshed out, less elliptical, than many. Hunter (1991: 91) sees the minimalism as “a goal of medical storytelling and an emblem of the efficiency that is an ideal of scientific medicine.” Most analysts of this genre focus on (1) how case histories are written – and how they might be improved – and (2) the “translation process” through which patients’ stories of illness find their way into the medical record, transformed into instances of disease by the terse, objectifying, formulaic code that is the norm for this genre (cf. Mishler 1984; Kleinman 1988; Anspach 1988; Donnelly 1988, 1997; Hunter 1991: ch. 5; Charon 1992; Poirier et al. 1992; Smith 1996). Case in point: an individual tells the interviewing physician in training about his puzzled shock and dismay after noting passage of a black or “tarry” stool. This gets translated in the student’s written account as “melena.” Donnelly comments: “In one stroke, substituting ‘melena’ strips the event of the patient’s wonder, shock, and dismay and consigns it to a universe of anonymous stools blackened by the presence of digested blood. Not only has the patient’s subjective experience been objectified, but its particularity has been transcended by an abstraction” (1988: 824). Among “questionable language practices” of the conventional case history, Donnelly (1997) includes: Categorizing what the patient says as “subjective” and what the physician learns from physical examination and laboratory studies as “objective.” It is true that these terms . . . can be used ontologically, as I believe Weed intended when he made the[m] . . . part of the problem-oriented medical record ...(subjective mental states and processes versus objective physical and biological phenomena). Unfortunately, the distinction is more commonly understood, especially in a science-using activity, epistemically, marking “different degrees of independence of claims from the vagaries of special values, personal prejudices, points of view, and emotions” [Searle 1992: 19]. Inevitably, then, categorizing what the patient says as “subjective” stigmatizes the patient’s testimony as untrustworthy. On the other hand, calling physical findings and laboratory studies “objective data” gives an air of infallibility to the quite fallible observations of doctor and laboratory. This statement expresses one facet of a broader cri de guerre against the widely perceived “loss of humaneness or humanity in medicine” (Fein 1982: 863). It is representative of an increasing body of literature, produced largely within the enclave known as humanistic medicine, calling for reforms in medical education, with a
Language and Medicine 479 specific focus on language. The broader goal of these reforms is to restore to medicine the “personhood” of patients, who have been banished from a discursive stage on which organ systems essentially play out their dramas. (On the absent voice of the patient from medical case histories, see Poirier et al. 1992; for a nuanced analysis of how the language of case histories objectifies patients and devalues their subjective experience, see Anspach 1988). In an unorthodox attempt to remedy this situation, Charon (1986, 1989) asks second-year medical students to write stories about illness and disability from the patient’s point of view in addition to conventional histories of present illness. 17 Discourse analysis of the medical case history ranges from highly quantitative (Van Naerssen 1985) to highly interpretive (Anspach 1988). From the various studies on this genre (see n. 14 above), two will be singled out for discussion: Anspach (1988) and Francis and Kramer-Dahl (1992). Anspach looks at the rhetorical features through which claims to knowledge are made and conveyed and at the epistemological assumptions underlying them. She focuses on four aspects of case histories: 1 Depersonalization, i.e. the separation of biological processes from the individual. See the opening sentence of the excerpt above; throughout this excerpt the woman is referred to as “the patient” or “she,” no name, and ellipted altogether from statements of the physician’s observations (“positive for . . . ,” “remarkable (only) for . . .”). 2 Omission of agents, e.g. through existential “there was . . .” constructions and agentless passives. These have the effect of emphasizing what was done rather than who did it let alone why a decision was made to engage in a given course of action. 18 3 Treating medical technology as the agent (“The CT scan revealed . . . ,” “Angiography showed . . .”). These formulations carry the process of objectification a step further than the passive voice: not only do the writers fail to mention the person(s) who performed the diagnostic procedures, but they also omit mention of the often complex processes by which angiograms and CT scans are interpreted. In treating medical technology as if it were the agent, such formulations support a view of knowledge in which instruments rather than people create the “data.” 4 The use of non-factive predicators such as “states,” “reports,” and “denies” (Anspach calls these “account markers”), which emphasize the subjectivity of the patient’s accounts. What distinguishes this study from many others is not only its lucid and insightful analysis of the style of this genre of medical discourse, but also the author’s attempt to ferret out the (unconscious) epistemological assumptions informing this style (1988: 369–72). Language, as Dr. Freud reminds us, is never innocent. Another illuminating study of the medical case history is Francis and Kramer- Dahl’s comparison (1992) of the title essay of Oliver Sacks’s collection The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat (Sacks 1985) with a “standard” case report of a patient with the same neuropsychological disorder. Through a nuanced analysis of lexicogrammatical patterns (using Halliday’s transitivity model), the authors show how Sacks’s linguistic choices reflect his beliefs about neurologically afflicted human beings, their
- Page 450 and 451: 428 Colleen Cotter However, as I po
- Page 452 and 453: 430 Colleen Cotter (Cotter 1996a, 1
- Page 454 and 455: 432 Colleen Cotter REFERENCES Althe
- Page 456 and 457: 434 Colleen Cotter Hardt, Hanno. 19
- Page 458 and 459: 436 Colleen Cotter van Dijk, Teun A
- Page 460 and 461: 438 Roger W. Shuy area lawyers to h
- Page 462 and 463: 440 Roger W. Shuy This case opened
- Page 464 and 465: 442 Roger W. Shuy and a special iss
- Page 466 and 467: 444 Roger W. Shuy and conclusions t
- Page 468 and 469: 446 Roger W. Shuy believe that DeLo
- Page 470 and 471: 448 Roger W. Shuy Again, the tapes
- Page 472 and 473: 450 Roger W. Shuy prosecution to ex
- Page 474 and 475: 452 Roger W. Shuy Gibbons, John. 19
- Page 476 and 477: 454 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn usually
- Page 478 and 479: 456 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn the sequ
- Page 480 and 481: 458 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn In revie
- Page 482 and 483: 460 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn was vide
- Page 484 and 485: 462 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn The numb
- Page 486 and 487: 464 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn summariz
- Page 488 and 489: 466 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn Power in
- Page 490 and 491: 468 Nancy Ainsworth-Vaughn Roter, D
- Page 492 and 493: 470 Suzanne Fleischman 24 Language
- Page 494 and 495: 472 Suzanne Fleischman concerned wi
- Page 496 and 497: 474 Suzanne Fleischman Since the di
- Page 498 and 499: 476 Suzanne Fleischman language phy
- Page 502 and 503: 480 Suzanne Fleischman conditions,
- Page 504 and 505: 482 Suzanne Fleischman Chapter 7 of
- Page 506 and 507: 484 Suzanne Fleischman a “balance
- Page 508 and 509: 486 Suzanne Fleischman The conceptu
- Page 510 and 511: 488 Suzanne Fleischman 4.4 Medicine
- Page 512 and 513: 490 Suzanne Fleischman vs., e.g. *h
- Page 514 and 515: 492 Suzanne Fleischman Even within
- Page 516 and 517: 494 Suzanne Fleischman context in i
- Page 518 and 519: 496 Suzanne Fleischman Consequently
- Page 520 and 521: 498 Suzanne Fleischman Charon, R. (
- Page 522 and 523: 500 Suzanne Fleischman Lambo, T. (1
- Page 524 and 525: 502 Suzanne Fleischman Amsterdam an
- Page 526 and 527: 504 Carolyn Temple Adger methods co
- Page 528 and 529: 506 Carolyn Temple Adger 14 Katie:
- Page 530 and 531: 508 Carolyn Temple Adger American s
- Page 532 and 533: 510 Carolyn Temple Adger engages ma
- Page 534 and 535: 512 Carolyn Temple Adger to educati
- Page 536 and 537: 514 Carolyn Temple Adger NOTES 1 Tr
- Page 538 and 539: 516 Carolyn Temple Adger Gumperz, J
- Page 540 and 541: 518 Charlotte Linde 26 Narrative in
- Page 542 and 543: 520 Charlotte Linde studies is what
- Page 544 and 545: 522 Charlotte Linde discourse. Howe
- Page 546 and 547: 524 Charlotte Linde microfiche and
- Page 548 and 549: 526 Charlotte Linde Table 26.1 Occa
Language and Medicine 479<br />
specific focus on language. <strong>The</strong> broader goal <strong>of</strong> these reforms is to restore to medicine<br />
the “personhood” <strong>of</strong> patients, who have been banished from a discursive stage on<br />
which organ systems essentially play out their dramas. (On the absent voice <strong>of</strong> the<br />
patient from medical case histories, see Poirier et al. 1992; for a nuanced analysis <strong>of</strong><br />
how the language <strong>of</strong> case histories objectifies patients and devalues their subjective<br />
experience, see Anspach 1988). In an unorthodox attempt to remedy this situation,<br />
Charon (1986, 1989) asks second-year medical students to write stories about illness<br />
and disability from the patient’s point <strong>of</strong> view in addition to conventional histories <strong>of</strong><br />
present illness. 17<br />
<strong>Discourse</strong> analysis <strong>of</strong> the medical case history ranges from highly quantitative (Van<br />
Naerssen 1985) to highly interpretive (Anspach 1988). From the various studies on<br />
this genre (see n. 14 above), two will be singled out for discussion: Anspach (1988)<br />
and Francis and Kramer-Dahl (1992).<br />
Anspach looks at the rhetorical features through which claims to knowledge are<br />
made and conveyed and at the epistemological assumptions underlying them. She<br />
focuses on four aspects <strong>of</strong> case histories:<br />
1 Depersonalization, i.e. the separation <strong>of</strong> biological processes from the individual.<br />
See the opening sentence <strong>of</strong> the excerpt above; throughout this excerpt the woman<br />
is referred to as “the patient” or “she,” no name, and ellipted altogether from<br />
statements <strong>of</strong> the physician’s observations (“positive for . . . ,” “remarkable (only)<br />
for . . .”).<br />
2 Omission <strong>of</strong> agents, e.g. through existential “there was . . .” constructions and<br />
agentless passives. <strong>The</strong>se have the effect <strong>of</strong> emphasizing what was done rather<br />
than who did it let alone why a decision was made to engage in a given course <strong>of</strong><br />
action. 18<br />
3 Treating medical technology as the agent (“<strong>The</strong> CT scan revealed . . . ,” “Angiography<br />
showed . . .”). <strong>The</strong>se formulations carry the process <strong>of</strong> objectification a step further<br />
than the passive voice: not only do the writers fail to mention the person(s) who<br />
performed the diagnostic procedures, but they also omit mention <strong>of</strong> the <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
complex processes by which angiograms and CT scans are interpreted. In treating<br />
medical technology as if it were the agent, such formulations support a view <strong>of</strong><br />
knowledge in which instruments rather than people create the “data.”<br />
4 <strong>The</strong> use <strong>of</strong> non-factive predicators such as “states,” “reports,” and “denies” (Anspach<br />
calls these “account markers”), which emphasize the subjectivity <strong>of</strong> the patient’s<br />
accounts.<br />
What distinguishes this study from many others is not only its lucid and insightful<br />
analysis <strong>of</strong> the style <strong>of</strong> this genre <strong>of</strong> medical discourse, but also the author’s attempt<br />
to ferret out the (unconscious) epistemological assumptions informing this style<br />
(1988: 369–72). Language, as Dr. Freud reminds us, is never innocent.<br />
Another illuminating study <strong>of</strong> the medical case history is Francis and Kramer-<br />
Dahl’s comparison (1992) <strong>of</strong> the title essay <strong>of</strong> Oliver Sacks’s collection <strong>The</strong> Man Who<br />
Mistook His Wife for a Hat (Sacks 1985) with a “standard” case report <strong>of</strong> a patient with<br />
the same neuropsychological disorder. Through a nuanced analysis <strong>of</strong> lexicogrammatical<br />
patterns (using Halliday’s transitivity model), the authors show how Sacks’s<br />
linguistic choices reflect his beliefs about neurologically afflicted human beings, their