Communication Barriers-Why ASD Patients Struggle to Express Their Needs in the ED

Jock

Welcome back to our mini-series, "ASD in the ED," brought to you by Clintix Labs at Clintix.ai. If you're joining us for the first time, we're here to explore why emergency departments can be challenging environments for autistic individuals and how we can bridge those communication gaps—together.

Jack

Yeah, communication, it’s a big one, right? I mean, have you ever asked a patient what they're feeling... only to get silence—or a response that doesn't really help?

Jock

Oh, definitely. It's—it’s frustrating, for both sides. You’re trying to help, but they’re struggling just to find the words. Autism complicates that even further, particularly when you mix in conditions like ADHD or PDA—

Jack

Pathological Demand Avoidance, for those unfamiliar.

Jock

Exactly, and Oppositional Defiant Disorder, too. These can make communication even more challenging during stressful situations, which... let’s be honest, describes most visits to the ED.

Jack

And stress isn’t just emotional either. Let’s not forget, things like sensory overload or even language processing difficulties play massive roles, but we’ll touch on all of that later.

Jock

Right. Today, though, we’ll dive into why autistic patients might struggle to express their needs, how these stressors and conditions factor in, and what practical steps ED teams can take to improve communication. I mean... that’s the ultimate goal, isn’t it?

Jack

It is. Better understanding, better outcomes.

Jock

Alright, so building on what we touched on earlier—why is a trip to the emergency department so overwhelming for autistic patients? I think it starts with sensory overload. You know, the bright lights, the constant monitors beeping, people rushing about—it’s just this uh, constant barrage of stimulation.

Jack

Yeah, it’s relentless. And it’s not just the noise—it’s the smells, too. That antiseptic hospital smell—it hits you the moment you walk through the doors. For someone with heightened sensory sensitivity, it can be unbearable.

Jock

Right, and when you add that to the unpredictability of the whole experience... long wait times, sudden changes—

Jack

Not knowing when they’ll be seen or what’s gonna happen next.

Jock

Exactly. And for an autistic person who thrives on routine and, well, control, that lack of structure can skyrocket their anxiety.

Jack

And speaking of anxiety—there’s the social aspect, too. Let’s say you’re an autistic patient. You’ve already had to talk to a triage nurse, then a physician and then a another nurse, possible two, and then yet another doctor! That’s 4 or maybe 5 interactions—

Jock

In a row, without breaks.

Jack

Exactly. For someone who finds social interactions draining, that’s exhausting. And on top of that, they might not even understand half of the jargon being thrown at them.

Jock

Then there’s pain—trying to explain what hurts, how much it hurts... I mean, that can be hard for anyone, let alone when you struggle to verbalize what you’re feeling.

Jack

And unfortunately, that frustration can easily escalate. If they’re not able to communicate, it might come out as distress, or even behaviors that, on the surface, might seem uncooperative to staff who don’t understand what’s going on.

Jock

And then there’s the history of negative experiences. I mean, let’s be honest—if you’ve had a bad experience in an ED before, or worse, multiple bad experiences, you’d carry that into the next visit. It amplifies everything.

Jack

Right. It’s that fear, right? The fear that nothing will improve, that they won’t be understood... it’s a tough cycle to break.

Jock

And yet, here we are, trying to figure out how to make these environments less intimidating, less overwhelming. That’s why conversations like these are so important.

Jock

And that brings us to the heart of the issue—communication. When it breaks down in the ED for autistic individuals, it’s not just behavioral, it’s tied to their neurobiology. Differences in brain connectivity, for instance, play a critical role in how they process and respond to these overwhelming environments.

Jack

Ah, the classic ‘wiring differences’ idea. It’s true, though. Studies show that the brains of autistic people often light up in entirely different ways when processing language or social cues.

Jock

Exactly. The neural connections that combine social and verbal processing might be weaker or, in some cases, routed differently. What that means is information doesn’t always flow as efficiently. It’s like... trying to take a detour when your GPS is stuck recalculating.

Jack

And that’s where cognitive load comes in, right? It takes so much more mental energy to navigate those detours.

Jock

Right. So even asking something like, “Can you describe your pain?” adds so much pressure. I mean, if you're already working overtime just to process the question...

Jack

...then actually answering it is like climbing Everest. It’s exhausting.

Jock

And exhausting is exactly the word, because the executive functioning challenges in autism aren’t just around communication. They impact organization, decision-making under stress...

Jack

Prioritization, too. Like, do I focus on this nurse asking me a question, or do I focus on the fluorescent lights driving me mad?

Jock

Yeah, it’s kind of a double-edged sword, isn’t it? Decisions that most people can snap to just aren’t as instinctive here. And that’s before you add in sensory integration issues—

Jack

Oh yeah, those play a huge role. I mean, if you’re experiencing extreme discomfort from the environment, like hypersensitivity to sound or touch, it’s no wonder verbal communication seems... secondary.

Jock

Right, because their brains are busy processing the sensory chaos around them. It’s no longer just about “finding the right words”—it’s more like... survival mode. How do you even begin to bridge that gap?

Jack

You don’t start by asking vague questions, that’s for sure. And, honestly, this is where understanding these neurobiological differences can make all the difference. Like, knowing how sensory overload can shut down verbal communication entirely.

Jock

Exactly. And if we keep putting all the responsibility on the patient to adapt, without meeting them halfway, we’ve missed the point. Bridging that gap takes effort on our end, too.

Jock

Building on that, one condition that often adds another layer to these communication challenges is ADHD. It’s a fascinating intersection, where the executive functioning struggles we just discussed can be amplified, making adaptive communication even trickier.

Jack

Right, and ADHD is common in autistic people. I’ve seen estimates that say up to 70 percent might have symptoms of both.

Jock

70 percent—that's—that's a huge overlap. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? With ADHD, you’re already dealing with challenges in focus and impulse control, and when you add the sensory chaos of the ED environment... it’s like turning up the volume on every difficulty all at once.

Jack

Exactly. For example, someone with ADHD might struggle to stay on topic when answering questions. They might jump from thought to thought, or just completely forget the question halfway through because something else grabbed their attention.

Jock

And—well, think about how frustrating that must be for both sides. The patient’s trying their best to communicate, but it’s like, their thoughts are darting in a million different directions, and the ED staff might see it as uncooperative or even dismissive.

Jack

And it’s not intentional. That’s the key thing to get across here. It’s not about effort or willingness—it’s how their brain is wired.

Jock

Yeah, it’s like trying to tune into one radio station while three others are blasting in the background. And the added stress of being in the ED only amplifies that. They might even freeze, just because the pressure to “get it right” becomes overwhelming.

Jack

Which makes the patient seem like they’re ignoring you, but in reality, they’re just trying to piece together a coherent response.

Jock

Exactly. So, if staff don’t understand that dynamic, it creates this frustration loop, where the patient shuts down more, and the staff get more impatient. It... it doesn’t lead anywhere productive.

Jack

And what’s important here is adapting communication styles. Like, instead of a long string of questions, keep it simple. One thought, one question at a time.

Jock

Absolutely. It's not about rushing to get an answer—it’s about creating space for the answer to come. Which, honestly, is probably the opposite of how most EDs work, right?

Jack

Yeah, emergency care is all about efficiency—until efficiency clashes with patient needs, especially for neurodivergent individuals. That’s when you’ve got to slow down.

Jock

Building on that overlap we touched on with ADHD, when an autistic individual is placed into the high-stress environment of the ED, those communication issues we were discussing only multiply. Stress alone can feel overwhelming, but here it’s like amplifying every single difficulty at once, isn’t it?

Jack

Absolutely. Stress takes all the usual challenges and magnifies them. When someone’s scared or anxious, the ability to focus, process language, or even find the words to express themselves just plummets.

Jock

And that stress response—well, it’s physiological too. It triggers all kinds of things, like sensory sensitivities becoming more pronounced, or even shutting down entirely because the brain and nervous system can’t keep up. It almost... stalls, in a way.

Jack

Right, it’s like an overload circuit blowing. The person might stop responding or, in some cases, react in ways that seem out of sync to staff. But it’s really their nervous system saying, “Enough.”

Jock

And then you layer in associated conditions like ADHD or PDA—the stress amplifies even more. ADHD, for instance, can make it really hard to filter through the chaos. So there’s this constant distraction pulling attention away at the worst possible time.

Jack

Or they might seem, I don’t know, impulsive or erratic. People sometimes misinterpret those things as rudeness or defiance.

Jock

Exactly. But it’s not defiance; it’s survival. It’s their brain trying to navigate an overwhelming environment and failing because the stress is just... too much. And when you add PDA or ODD into the mix—

Jack

Pathological Demand Avoidance and Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Both of which can heighten avoidance or refusal behaviors.

Jock

Yeah, those behaviors aren’t just acts of rebellion. They’re stress responses. If someone with PDA perceives a question or instruction as a demand, it can trigger this almost subconscious need to avoid or push back. It’s not about being difficult—it’s about feeling like they have no choice but to resist.

Jack

And ODD, that turns up the intensity even more. Anger, impulsivity, those types of responses—they’re not calculated; they’re reactive. The moment stress spikes, it’s a knee-jerk reaction to the pressure.

Jock

And that’s when the misunderstandings start. If the staff interpret those reactions as deliberate or uncooperative, the whole encounter becomes adversarial, which just doubles the stress for both sides.

Jack

And then you’ve got shutdowns or meltdowns, both of which are stress overflow situations. But those responses often get labeled as “behavioral issues” instead of what they actually are—cries for help.

Jock

Exactly. And in an ED setting, where time and decisions are critical, those nuances can be so easily missed. It’s why understanding and adapting to those stress responses is so crucial, isn’t it?

Jack

It is, yeah. They’re not just being difficult. Their responses are shaped by that overwhelming combination of stress, sensory sensitivity, and their unique neurobiology.

Jock

Now, let’s put this into perspective with a real-world example. Imagine a 15-year-old autistic patient, also diagnosed with ADHD, coming into the ED with stomach pain. The nurse, following standard procedure, asks him, “On a scale from one to ten, how bad is your pain?” Seems straightforward at first glance, doesn’t it?

Jack

Right. That’s a textbook question in the ED—quick, clear, gets straight to the point.

Jock

But here’s the thing—this patient doesn’t respond. Instead, he starts fidgeting, looking away. And after a few seconds, the nurse, probably thinking he didn’t hear, repeats the question louder. At this point, though—

Jack

—At this point, the patient starts rocking and flapping his hands. That’s a clear signal of distress.

Jock

Exactly. But the nurse doesn’t recognize that. Frustration sets in—on both sides, really—because the nurse assumes he’s being noncompliant. And that’s where everything breaks down.

Jack

Yeah, so what went wrong here? Let’s unpack it.

Jock

First off, the question itself. “On a scale from one to ten”—that assumes the person can quantify their pain in a linear way. And, let’s be honest, that’s hard for plenty of neurotypical people, let alone someone processing information differently.

Jack

Exactly. Numbers don’t always hold the same meaning for autistic individuals. Plus, the stress of being in the ED and, you know, sensory overload—the bright lights, the noise, the chaos—that all makes it even harder to focus on the question.

Jock

And when the nurse repeats the question louder—well, that amplifies the stress even more. It’s not about volume. It’s about giving the patient enough time to process the question and then piece together a response.

Jack

And responses like the hand flapping or rocking? Those are self-regulation behaviors. They’re not ignoring the question or being difficult—they’re trying to cope.

Jock

Exactly. But if the staff don’t recognize those behaviors for what they are—if they label them as noncompliance instead of distress—it shifts the whole interaction. Suddenly, it’s adversarial. And the patient, feeling misunderstood, shuts down even more.

Jack

Yeah, it’s a cycle. Miscommunication leads to more frustration, which leads to more distress. And before you know it, the encounter’s gone off the rails.

Jock

And the unfortunate reality is, this isn’t an isolated incident. Similar scenarios play out in EDs all the time. Which is why understanding these dynamics is so critical—not just for improving outcomes, but for, well, preserving dignity in those moments.

Jock

So, given how easily things can go off the rails, let’s explore how we can turn it around. How do we genuinely transform the ED experience for autistic patients? It starts with one key step: Always ask what works best for them. Even small adjustments in communication can make a world of difference.

Jack

Yeah, absolutely. Patients and their families are often the experts in what helps them communicate. Whether it's using a certain tool or avoiding specific phrases, they’re your best guide.

Jock

Exactly. But let’s say you’re not sure where to begin. Visual aids are a great starting point—things like picture boards, written instructions, or diagrams. They’re straightforward, and they can really help bridge that communication gap.

Jack

And don’t forget about giving people time—processing time, specifically. A lot of autistic patients need a few extra moments to, well, absorb the question before they can respond. But—

Jock

Give them the space, right?

Jack

Exactly. Resist the urge to repeat yourself too quickly because that just adds pressure. Sometimes the quiet can feel awkward, but trust me—it’s better than rushing them.

Jock

Yeah, that pause can be such a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. Now, another thing to keep in mind—open-ended questions, while they seem helpful, can actually be overwhelming. Multiple-choice or yes/no questions are often... uh, much easier to handle.

Jack

Totally agree. “What’s your pain level in numbers?” versus “Is it hurting more now or earlier?” It’s a simple adjustment, but it can make such a difference in getting meaningful answers.

Jock

And those adjustments extend beyond just questions. Take the number of voices in the room, for example. Too many people talking at once—well, it can feel like sensory overload. Reducing that can help immensely.

Jack

Yeah, one person speaking at a time. And predictable language—avoiding idioms or figurative phrases. Clear, direct speech is a game changer because, let’s face it, not everyone instinctively interprets things like “hold your horses.”

Jock

Right, and validating what the patient’s going through is just as critical. You know, acknowledging their distress doesn’t mean you agree with all of it—it means you see it. Saying something like, “I understand this is overwhelming for you,” can really break through some of those barriers.

Jack

Exactly. It’s about showing that empathy, isn’t it? Because, at the end of the day, you’re not just treating numbers on a chart—you’re helping a person feel heard.

Jock

You know, hearing these strategies really makes you appreciate just how transformative even small changes can be. It’s like, once you make that choice to adapt communication styles, the entire dynamic starts to shift in a positive direction. So, let’s dig deeper into how we can keep this momentum going.

Jack

Yeah, and I think if there’s one takeaway from all this, it’s that effective communication isn’t one-size-fits-all. It takes effort from both sides. Understanding, patience, and empathy—they’re not just buzzwords here. They’re what actually change outcomes.

Jock

Absolutely. And it’s not about getting it perfect every time—it’s about striving to meet people where they are, isn’t it? These small adjustments, like using visual aids or allowing moments of silence... well, they really can make a world of difference for someone struggling to process the chaos around them.

Jack

And it’s all interconnected. A little understanding upfront can prevent so many issues from snowballing, both for the patient and for the staff.

Jock

Exactly. And speaking of preventing things from escalating—that’s where we’re heading next in the series. In our next episode, we’ll dive into strategies for preventing behavioral escalations in the ED. That’s one you won’t want to miss, trust me.

Jack

Definitely not. But for now, thanks for sticking with us through this conversation. And, of course, a big thank you to Clintix Labs at Clintix.ai for sponsoring this mini-series.

Jock

Right, we couldn’t do it without their support. And on that note, we’ll see you next time. Until then, stay curious, stay compassionate, and we’ll catch you in the next episode.