[Photo by Elianna Gill on Unsplash]

Lessons in Trust from Dartmouth Health and the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth

For 25 years, I’ve walked the halls of Dartmouth Health as a patient. I’ve delivered four children there, who today range in age from 13 to 22. Over time, I’ve come to know my doctors not just as providers, but as neighbors, fellow parents, and members of my own community.

I also spent years working within the system itself, beginning in the Intensive Care Nursery (ICN). There, I managed the paperwork for neonatal transfers—babies arriving from other hospitals for specialized care—and was often one of the first faces parents saw when visiting their newborn. As the parent of a healthy infant, I carried a deep sense of perspective as I witnessed the fragility of premature babies and the resilience of their families. Working evenings and weekends allowed me to remain present with my own children during the day while continuing my education.

Over time, my path led me into other roles at Dartmouth Health. As a hospital operator, I became the unseen voice behind emergencies—calling codes, responding to the emergency button, paging doctors, and listening carefully to patients and families in moments of fear. Every call was critical, and every word carried weight.

Later, I stepped into one of the most difficult roles of my career: deceased patient coordinator. When a physician called a death, I was often the first point of contact. I worked directly with doctors on the floor, reported the death to the state, coordinated with the morgue, and ensured every detail was handled with dignity and respect. It was quiet, difficult work that demanded compassion and precision—because for the families, these moments would be remembered forever.

Eventually, I transitioned into the marketing department as an assistant, where I began to see another side of healthcare: how communication—whether on a website, in a brochure, or in a call script—could either empower patients or leave them feeling overwhelmed. Having worked so close to both life’s beginnings and endings, I understood that every message had weight.

Where Healthcare and Education Meet

At Dartmouth, healthcare and education aren’t separate worlds—they overlap every day. The Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth trains physicians and residents, and Dartmouth Health is where that training becomes real, in exam rooms, operating rooms, and patient interactions.

As a patient, I’ve seen that firsthand. I’ve trusted residents and medical students to be part of my care because I trusted the attending physicians guiding them. As an employee, I worked alongside physicians who balanced treating patients with teaching the next generation of providers.

That experience taught me that communication must serve two audiences at once:

• Patients, who need reassurance, clarity, and trust in the providers caring for them.
• Learners, who need transparency, guidance, and the confidence to practice under supervision.

The stakes are high on both sides. However, when communication succeeds, it builds confidence in patients and fosters competence in future doctors.

Storytelling as a Bridge

My time in healthcare taught me the importance of words and how they’re delivered.

A confusing benefits page can leave a patient frustrated. A poorly written clinical update can leave a student unsure. Clear and empathetic writing, however, can transform anxiety into understanding.

For example:

• Healthcare jargon: “Members must verify prior authorization requirements with the payer before scheduling a diagnostic imaging procedure.”
• Plain language: “Before you schedule your test, check with your insurance to see if you need approval.”

Or in medical education:

• Administrative tone: “All residents must adhere to institutional guidelines regarding patient interactions and consent.”
• Human tone: “Before you join a patient’s care, check in with your supervising physician and make sure the patient is comfortable with your involvement.”

The facts don’t change. But the way they’re communicated makes the difference between alienation and connection.

And it doesn’t stop at the words themselves. Communication is also about how those words are organized and framed in digital spaces. A page overloaded with text or competing calls-to-action can feel just as overwhelming as medical jargon. My work has often been about shaping information so it flows like a conversation—placing the right message in the right place, guiding the reader step by step, and ensuring the journey feels supportive rather than exhausting.

That means thinking beyond storytelling:

• Structuring content within a CMS so it’s scalable and easy to maintain.
• Framing communication so the most important action is clear without clutter.
• Designing pages that respect attention spans, presenting information in digestible ways that invite the reader forward.

Whether the audience is a patient navigating a diagnosis or a medical student learning to step into care, the goal is the same: to create an experience that is clear, trustworthy, and human-centered—online and off.

Two Gowns, One Goal

When I reflect on my journey, I think about two images: the hospital gown and the white coat. One represents a patient’s vulnerability. The other represents a learner’s responsibility. Both moments depend on trust—patients trusting providers, and learners trusting mentors.

Whether we’re helping patients navigate care or helping students navigate training, the goal is the same: to honor the human experience. To make the complex simple. To turn uncertainty into clarity.

In Reflection

Great storytelling isn’t just about the right words; it’s about creating an experience that guides without overwhelming. My journey—from parent to ICN staff member, to hospital operator, to coordinator, and ultimately to strategist—has shown me the power of trust and clarity. Today, I carry those lessons into digital strategy, ensuring that every page, every call to action, and every user journey is organized with intention and grounded in humanity. Because in the end, the work isn’t about content or clicks—it’s about earning trust and guiding people with care through their most important decisions.