Health literacy is about more than not ditching your face mask because that random neighbor mentioned they're bad for your health, or coming home feeling puzzled because you were afraid to ask your family doctor exactly what he meant with all that medical jargon — but that's part of it.
With global COVID-19 cases on the rise again, October is the perfect moment for Health Literacy Week, and increasing health literacy is everyone's responsibility. From policy makers to medical professionals and patients, we all have a role to play.
Wait, what is health literacy?
The term "health literacy", which has been in use since the 1970s, doesn't come with an effortless, one-line, dictionary definition. There is, in fact, no scientific consensus on a definition. The definitions we do have weave a fabric of related concepts, though, both at the individual and societal level — and those concepts go well beyond a simple merger of the words "health" and "literacy".
At the individual level, health literacy would encompass a rather wide variety of skills that include:
- The ability to read and understand information related to your health — both when it comes to healthy lifestyles choices in general, and when faced with health struggles.
- The ability to evaluate whether the health-related information you just digested was credible.
- Knowing where, how, and when to seek medical attention.
- Being able to describe your symptoms well, in a way medical professionals would understand.
- When presented with the benefits vs risks of treatment proposals, the ability to make a fully informed decision.
- Understanding how to put health-related information into practice — for instance, by not just understanding what dose of a medication you need to take and when, but also being able to prepare and administer it. Or, to name another example, the ability to follow your doctor's aftercare instructions following a surgery.
On a broader, society-wide, level, health literacy would broaden to include concepts like educating the general public about health, making accurate information more broadly accessible, and the ability to make science-based policy decisions.
Why does health literacy matter?
Health literacy matters because its lack lowers people's quality of life and even costs lives. On the societal level, low health literacy rates cost money — between $106 billion to $238 billion in the US alone each year, in fact ― and burden the health care system. During the COVID-19 pandemic, we've all seen what this can mean in practice; when people do not understand why they need to follow a set of measures rooted firmly in science and agreed on by all reputable health organizations across the world, we're all at risk.
What can you do to increase your health literacy — starting now?
In the absence of a single, universally agreed-on, definition, we think it would be fair to sum health literacy up as being a (pro)active patient who always strives to be as fully informed about all aspects of your health as possible.
Being health literate doesn't mean knowing everything there is to know about your health — as Dr Lazar Vucetic pointed out, even doctors don't: "As much as I didn’t want to confess, I found out I simply can’t know everything. But I also learned that this is normal; in medicine, it is impossible to be a jack of all trades."
On the patient end of things, trying to live a health-literate life does mean:
- Being able to tell credible information from nonsense and quackery. In the internet age, information is more widely available than ever — but so is misinformation, whether intended or not. A health literate person will know that it's important to verify any claims they read by looking at peer-reviewed research, and to check what reputable medical organizations such as the CDC say about an issue. Be extra skeptical about claims that run counter to established science, even if they come from sources you'd normally consider credible. (Such as — cough — some political leaders.)
- Actively seeking out more information about your health or a diagnosis you received.
- Paying attention to your body's signals, and not waiting for symptoms you have to resolve on their own but to seek medical help.
- Asking your doctor, pharmacist, nurse, or other relevant professional questions if something is unclear to you. If, during a doctor's appointment, you're met with a barrage of words that don't make any sense to you, don't let it go. Ask for clarification. If you have reason to disagree with your doctor (for instance, after they dismiss your unexplained chronic pain as psychosomatic without considering physical causes), speak up. Seek a second opinion if you have to. Share research you have read.
- Questioning everything you think you know, and trying to stay up to date with current health and science news.
Overcoming health literacy barriers
I'll admit to falling into two of those groups — I'm an immigrant, and I also have dyscalculia, a learning disability perhaps best described as "mathematical dyslexia", courtesy of which I struggle to understand both statistics and dosages. This means I have some barriers. You may too, but by recognizing what we don't know, we can be extra mindful and find ways to get the care and information we need.
In my case, that might (OK, does) mean looking the package inserts of medications I'm prescribed up online in English, so I know I get the full story, picking a family doctor who speaks my primary language, and taking along someone who can translate the finer points if I need to see a specialist.
In terms of dyscalculia, it definitely meant insisting on receiving antibiotics in pre-dosed capsule form rather than a self-dosing powder, when they were still giving that out where I live. It also meant asking my doctor exactly what dose of liquid paracetamol was appropriate for my young children rather than calculating it myself based on their bodyweight.
Your thoughts on this