The Better-or-Worse Question: Stability Talk Locks in Medical Narratives
You walk into your follow-up appointment and your doctor asks the inevitable question: “How are you feeling? Better or worse since last time?” It seems like the most natural thing in the world to answer. You think for a moment about your symptoms over the past month and offer your assessment: “About the same, I guess. Maybe a little better on the fatigue.”
This exchange feels like helpful communication, but something important just happened in your medical record. Your answer just reinforced what I call a stability confirmation trap, a pattern where focusing on comparative improvement inadvertently locks in existing diagnostic interpretations rather than reopening them for examination.
Here’s how it works: Assessment sections in medical records function as narrative compression engines. They take the full complexity of clinical reasoning, with all its uncertainties and competing possibilities, and compress it into ranked, directional language that can drive action and documentation. “Likely stress-related fatigue, anxiety component” gets the top spot. “Rule out autoimmune process” might appear lower on the list, if it appears at all.
When you frame your report around stability and incremental change, you’re actually feeding information into this compression system in a way that reinforces its existing hierarchy. Your “about the same, maybe a little better” gets documented as supporting evidence for whatever interpretation already holds the primary position in your Assessment section.
Let me show you how this plays out with a specific example. Sarah has been seeing her primary care physician for six months about persistent joint pain and fatigue. Her initial Assessment section ranked “fibromyalgia, likely stress-related” at the top, with “inflammatory arthritis, less likely given normal initial labs” listed below. Each visit, Sarah dutifully reports whether she’s feeling better or worse than last time.
At her most recent appointment, Sarah says she’s “doing a bit better with the new sleep routine” but still has morning stiffness. This gets documented as “fibromyalgia, stable with improved sleep hygiene, continue current management.” The Assessment hierarchy remains unchanged. The morning stiffness, which might warrant revisiting that lower-ranked inflammatory process, gets absorbed into the existing narrative as a fibromyalgia symptom that’s reasonably controlled.
What Sarah doesn’t realize is that her better-or-worse framing is reinforcing what the record already believes about her condition. The Assessment section has created what we might call informational gravity, where documented hierarchies persistently influence the range of interpretations future encounters will consider. Each “stable” or “improved” notation adds weight to the existing diagnostic framework.
The structural forces driving this pattern run deeper than individual communication preferences. Electronic health records reward ranked clarity over sustained ambiguity. Billing codes demand decisive categorization. Time constraints push toward confirming existing directions rather than reopening diagnostic uncertainty. The Assessment section has become a documentation engine optimized for forward movement, not backward revision.
This creates a specific trap for patients. When you organize your symptom reports around comparative change, you’re essentially accepting the record’s current interpretive framework as the context for your experience. You’re not questioning whether the original diagnostic compression captured your situation accurately. You’re helping to maintain the narrative spine, that accumulated sequence of Assessment sections that forms the interpretive foundation for ongoing clinical memory.
The plan linkage mechanism makes this even more binding. Assessment rankings connect directly to documented actions. If your condition is “stable” under current management, the absence of escalation becomes implicit evidence that the original diagnostic hierarchy was correct. Sarah’s continued assignment to her current treatment plan reinforces the fibromyalgia interpretation, while the lack of rheumatology referral suggests inflammatory arthritis remains appropriately de-prioritized.
Breaking out of this pattern requires understanding what your better-or-worse answers are actually doing in the documentary system. Instead of focusing primarily on comparative change, you might consider bringing forward observations that don’t fit neatly into your record’s established narrative. This isn’t about being adversarial or demanding different diagnoses. It’s about providing information that resists easy absorption into existing categories.
For example, Sarah might say, “I want to make sure you know about this pattern I’ve noticed with the morning stiffness. It’s different from what I understood about fibromyalgia when we first talked about it.” This kind of reporting introduces information that requires active interpretation rather than simple categorization within the existing framework.
You might also ask direct questions about diagnostic uncertainty: “When we first talked, you mentioned we might need to watch for other possibilities. How do my symptoms over these months fit with that thinking?” This invites your provider to revisit the compression process rather than simply updating the status of its output.
The goal isn’t to destabilize appropriate medical conclusions or create unnecessary diagnostic confusion. Many conditions do stabilize under effective treatment, and comparative reporting serves important clinical functions. The goal is recognizing when your communication patterns might be inadvertently reinforcing premature narrative closure.
Understanding this mechanism changes how you see those routine follow-up visits. They’re not just check-ins about your current status. They’re opportunities to either reinforce or examine the documentary structures that will shape your ongoing care. The better-or-worse question isn’t neutral. It’s an invitation to participate in a specific kind of record-keeping that tends to confirm existing interpretations.
Your medical record is building a narrative spine with each encounter. Recognizing how your responses contribute to that construction process gives you insight into a foundational dynamic of chronic illness care. The Assessment section will continue compressing clinical uncertainty into ranked hierarchies. The question is whether you want to participate in that compression process consciously or by default.
This piece draws on analysis from Clinical Memory.
