How Was Your Day?

There is a world of difference between the questions “What did you do today?” and “How was your day?” Ask any kid which question he or she prefers for a parent to ask at the end of the day. Now, the answer may be the same kind of noncommittal, monosyllabic response. There’s not much difference between “Nothing” and OK.” But, “How was your day” is the better question to ask.

I learned this from a former patient, Mrs. J. Several years ago, she suffered a severe brain bleed from an aneurysm. Fortunately, she was rushed to the emergency room in time and had surgery that stopped the bleeding. Unfortunately, she was left with some cognitive impairment. Always a high achiever at work, a manager with several people answering to her, she had been able to juggle many tasks, make quick decisions, and carry a large work load. After struggling for months, Mrs. J asked for accommodations. She was given fewer responsibilities and the quota for the amount of work she was asked to produce was reduced. She finally retired nine months later, unable and unwilling to manage the stress and mental challenge of even these reduced job responsibilities.

Once she retired, Mrs. J’s days were long and restful. She found herself not doing much of anything at times, and at other times, she would be productive. However, whenever her husband came home from work, he would always ask her, “So what did you do today?” She felt put on the spot, trying to defend how she had spent her day while he had been working. Eventually, Mrs. J responded to this daily question by asking, “Honey, why don’t you just ask me how my day was instead?”

Light bulbs flashed in my head when she told me this story. How many times had I dreaded that same question, and asked it myself? Too many to count.

Before my husband, Harvey, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, we shared a family medicine practice, alternating days at the office with days at home caring for our two daughters. When the one with the full work day would come home, invariably the first question was, “So, what did you do today?” Harvey would have no trouble answering this question. He would give a blow by blow account of his day, usually entailing yard work, playing with the kids, and taking walks with them. I, on the other hand, dreaded that question. “Nothing much” wouldn’t cut it. “Shopping” sounded too self-centered. “Meeting friends and their kids for lunch” sounded too frivolous. I would rehearse my answer before he came home, wracking my brain for something productive to report.

That question, “What did you do today?” took on a whole new set of baggage when Harvey was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and had to quit practicing medicine. Now, I was the one asking that question of him every day when I got home from the office. Only, he could not remember what he had done. He would try; there was the usual “walked the dog” and “picked up the carpool,” things he would do everyday, but nothing else. I had no way of knowing how he spent his day if he could not remember enough of it to tell me. I quit asking the question.

Enter Mrs. J and her story of how she successfully reframed the “What did you do today?” question for her husband. Ding!

I began to ask Harvey, “How was your day today?” and he would respond in all sorts of ways. Sometimes he said, “Great! I got a lot done.” Sometimes he said, “It was OK.” Sometimes he gave me a complete description of his day. But the ball was now in his court.

Patients taught me things all the time. Such a simple one, but this lesson was one of the best. I thanked Mrs. J the next time I saw her, gave her a hug, and asked her how her day was going.