Effective communication in stressful situations is critical

Last weekend, our family had a real scare with our American Bulldog, Charlie.

Charlie, who we rescued just over two years ago, has quickly become a beloved member of our family. I often joke that I’m his dad, so when he started acting unwell, we were immediately concerned. He was struggling to go to the bathroom, and after a day and a half of trying everything we could think of, nothing worked. I booked a vet appointment, just in case things didn’t improve overnight.

After another sleepless night watching Charlie struggle, I was relieved I’d made the appointment. I told the vet that Charlie had eaten a whole rawhide bone very quickly, and I suspected it might be causing a blockage. A bit of research confirmed that rawhide can be dangerous for dogs, so I was even more anxious.

When we arrived at the vet (during COVID protocols, so we had to wait in the parking lot), I explained the situation again. To my surprise, they brought Charlie back out to my car after only a short time. The vet called to say he hadn’t been able to examine Charlie much because he was nervous—something I had already warned them about. The vet then jumped straight into a “solution,” without explaining what was wrong or what he suspected. When I pressed for more information, he seemed dismissive and condescending, repeating the same advice without taking my concerns into account. The final straw was when he told me, “You should calm down.” As anyone who’s ever been anxious knows, those words rarely help.

I was exhausted, worried, and frustrated. I didn’t want to be sent home only to end up in an emergency situation later. Eventually, the clinic agreed to keep Charlie for further tests.

Later that night, I spoke to a different vet who took the time to explain everything: the test results, possible causes, and the treatment plan. She was patient, detailed, and empathetic—exactly what I needed in that moment. The X-rays were clear, and the diagnosis was an intestinal issue that could be managed with diet and medication. I left the clinic at 2:20 AM, finally feeling reassured and understood.

Reflecting on the experience, I realized how much better I felt after speaking with the second vet—someone who took the time to explain, listen, and show compassion. It made me think about how often similar situations play out in the workplace:

When people don’t understand the “why” behind a decision, it creates frustration, anxiety, and erodes trust. In contrast, clear communication and empathy can transform a stressful situation into one where people feel heard, respected, and willing to buy in.

Whether you’re dealing with a worried pet parent or a concerned team member, the lesson is the same:
Take the time to listen, explain your reasoning, and show empathy. It makes all the difference in building trust, reducing anxiety, and ensuring everyone is on board with the next steps.

If you want to build a culture where communication and empathy are the norm, let’s talk about how you can make it happen in your team or organization.