"Honey, That's Not Your Name"

I was at a medical appointment last year, waiting outside the phlebotomy draw area for my turn — my heart was racing, I felt nauseous, my mind was reeling from a diagnosis I had just received — when the phlebotomist came out and said, “Okay, sweetie, come on back.”

The whole time I was getting my blood drawn, she used pet names. “Take a seat here, hun. Little poke now, honey.” It bothered me every time she said it. I had just been told that I had diabetes, and this was an antibody blood test to determine if it was type one or type two. (It ended up being type 1 — yay for autoimmune diseases.)

I was in disbelief, stressed, and every time she called me one of those names or popped her gum, it came off as dismissive and a little condescending. I was extra sensitive that day, and it bothered me more than it normally would. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, but on top of the other mistakes she was making during the blood draw — and there were many — it just added to the stress I was already carrying.

I smiled. I didn’t say anything. But I noticed it.

I’ve been on the receiving end of “sweetie,” “honey,” “hun,” and “darlin’” more times than I can count, and I’ve had plenty of time to think about how each one lands. Sometimes I can feel genuine warmth behind it — a person who truly cares, whose affection spills over into their word choices. Sometimes it’s clearly a habit, the verbal equivalent of autopilot, a filler word that comes out without any real intention behind it. And sometimes — not always, but sometimes — it feels like being talked down to. Like I’m not a professional adult in a clinical setting. Like I’m being managed rather than respected.

None of those three versions is what we should be going for.

The Habit We Don’t Notice

Here’s the thing about terms of endearment in healthcare: most people who use them aren’t trying to be condescending. They’re not trying to make patients feel small. In many cases, they genuinely believe they’re being warm and personable — putting patients at ease, softening an experience that can be stressful and uncomfortable, especially on top of the other concerns they may be dealing with.

And I get that instinct. Phlebotomy is an intimate procedure. You’re in someone’s personal space, touching their arm, causing a brief moment of pain. Building rapport matters. A kind tone, a gentle approach, a reassuring presence — these are real skills and they make a real difference.

But “sweetie” isn’t rapport. It’s a habit. And habits are worth examining.

These terms are more common in certain regions and workplace cultures — the South, in particular, has a long tradition of using endearments casually — and that familiarity can make them feel harmless. Normal. But “common” is not the same as “appropriate,” and “well-intentioned” is not the same as “professional.” When we’re in a clinical role, the standard shifts.

You’re Being Recorded

I want to say something that I think about every single time I see a phlebotomist interact with a patient, and I think more of us need to internalize it:

You may be on camera right now.

Patients record their healthcare encounters. They do it openly, they do it quietly, sometimes secretly, and they do it constantly — on their phones, on their smartwatches, their glasses, in ways you would never notice. Sometimes it’s because they’re scared and want to remember what was said. Sometimes it’s because they’ve had a bad experience before and want documentation. Sometimes they are trying to just get views with big goals to become an influencer, and sometimes they share it. Online. To thousands of people.

Ask yourself honestly: if this interaction were posted to social media tomorrow, would you be comfortable with how you addressed that patient? Would your facility be comfortable? Would your manager?

Calling a patient “honey” in a moment of genuine warmth might feel like a non-issue in the moment. On video, reviewed by strangers, it can look dismissive. Condescending. Unprofessional. Too familiar. It can reflect poorly not just on you, but on your entire organization.

This isn’t about fear. It’s about consistency. The standard of professionalism you hold in your best moments should be the same standard you hold when you think no one is watching. Maintain your ethics and integrity, always.

It’s Not Your Call

Here’s something else worth sitting with: when you call a patient “sweetie,” you’ve made a decision about how they want to be addressed without asking them.

You don’t know who that person is when they walk out of your collection area. You don’t know if they’re a judge, a teacher, a surgeon, or a grieving parent who just got a frightening diagnosis. You don’t know how they feel about pet names, whether they find them comforting or infantilizing, or whether they’ve spent their whole life quietly bristling at being called something other than their name.

You also don’t know how they identify. The safest, most universally respectful approach — for every patient, regardless of age, gender, background, or presentation — is the same: use their name. It’s right there on the requisition. It costs you nothing, and it tells that person, in a small but meaningful way, that you see them as an individual.

If you genuinely don’t know how a patient prefers to be addressed, ask. “How would you like me to address you?” takes three seconds. It signals respect. And it removes any guesswork about whether your chosen term is landing the way you intended.

What to Do Instead

The good news is that the fix is simple, even if breaking the habit takes some effort.

Before you even know a patient’s name — when they’re walking through the door and you’re confirming who they are — you have perfectly good options. “Ma’am, are you here for a blood draw?” “Sir, can I get your date of birth?” “Miss, I’ll be right with you.” These are professional, respectful, and they require zero information about the person standing in front of you. They signal that you’re attentive and courteous without assuming any level of familiarity. That’s exactly the tone you want to set before the interaction even begins.

Of course, gendered titles only work when you’re confident they fit. With transgender and non-binary patients making up a growing part of the population, there will be times when you’re genuinely unsure — and that’s okay. In those moments, skip the title entirely and go straight to the name. You’re about to confirm their identity anyway, so you’ll have it within seconds. “Hi, I’ll be drawing your blood today — can I get your name and date of birth?” is professional, warm, and sidesteps the issue entirely. No awkwardness, no misstep, no big deal.

Once you have their name — and you usually will if they have a requisition — use it. A title and a last name, or just a first name — follow the patient’s lead once they’ve introduced themselves. If you don’t have a strong preference, first name is almost always appropriate and immediately personalizes the interaction without crossing into overfamiliarity.

Watch your autopilot. If “honey” or “sweetie” is coming out of your mouth without you consciously choosing it, that’s the signal to slow down. Habits don’t disappear on their own — they have to be interrupted. Pay attention to what you’re saying during patient interactions for a few days. You might be surprised.

Don’t overcorrect into coldness. Warm, professional, and personal are not mutually exclusive. You can be genuinely kind and caring without relying on pet names to signal it — and honestly, the things that actually make patients feel cared for have nothing to do with what you call them.

Smile when you greet them. Make eye contact. Speak in a friendly, unhurried voice even when you’re slammed and running behind. If a patient has a question, stop and answer it — really answer it, not just a brush-off on your way to the next arm. Explain what you’re doing before you do it. Acknowledge when someone seems nervous. These are the things patients remember. These are the things that make someone leave your draw station feeling like they were seen and taken care of. A warm tone and genuine attentiveness will do far more for patient experience than any pet name ever could — and they hold up under any scrutiny.

A Note on the Flip Side

Patients will call you pet names too. “Thank you, honey.” “You’re so good at this, sweetie.” It happens constantly, and it almost always comes from a place of genuine gratitude or affection.

You don’t have to hold patients to the same standard you hold yourself. They’re nervous, they’re vulnerable, and when someone just made an uncomfortable experience easier, they sometimes reach for the warmest word they know. That’s human. Let it be human.

But it’s worth noticing the double standard — and letting it remind you of how quickly and automatically those words come out when we’re trying to express care. Your patients are doing the same thing you might be tempted to do. The difference is that you’re the professional in the room.

That said, there’s a line. If a patient’s familiarity crosses into something that feels inappropriate or predatory — and unfortunately it happens — you don’t have to tolerate it. Ask them to stop. Tell your manager. And if the behavior continues, it’s completely reasonable to refuse to serve that patient again. Being professional doesn’t mean being a target.

What Patients Remember

Phlebotomists are often the first hands-on contact a patient has in a healthcare encounter. That moment sets a tone — for their experience with you, and sometimes for their experience with the entire facility.

Calling someone by their name instead of “sweetie” won’t make you less warm. It won’t make the interaction feel clinical or cold. What it will do is communicate something important: that you see this person as an individual who deserves to be addressed with the same respect you’d want for yourself.

You are the professional. You set the standard. Make sure it’s one you’re proud of.

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