Surgeons are not stand back kind of people. They fall more comfortably into the category of charge in where angels fear to tread. I think the work tends to preferentially attract those type of people. But sometimes standing back can be the lesser of two very evil evils.
The call was a standard weekend consultation. The patient had hematemesis and his doctor was worried. Nothing I hadn’t seen many times before. But when he came in the patient’s wife had a few more details to spice the story up a bit.
Just about a year ago he had had a resection of his stomach for cancer. The surgeon had told his wife they couldn’t get all the cancer out because it was growing into some big blood vessels behind the stomach. For some reason they both decided not to tell him this. So when he was referred for his chemotherapy (something that could not be described as awe-inspiringly effective in stomach cancer) he truly thought he was well on his way to full recovery. and now he lay before me, pale and restless.
He was a shadow of what he once must have been. His skin hung loosely as if in remembrance of the large man it once covered. I was not happy with the mass I clearly felt just under his left rib margin. The cancer was back and it seemed angry. I got the necessary drips running and ordered blood. I considered dropping to my knees but due to a back injury when I was still a student I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get up onto my feet again.
The wife called me aside and told me the patient was not aware of the fact that the operation was not a roaring success and therefore that he was essentially living on borrowed time (which I grimly thought he is about to pay back with interest).
“You need to tell him.” I said.
“No!! Doctor!! I can’t do that.” She needed the truth.
“This man, your husband may die here in this hospital within a day or two. you need to speak to him.” But she would hear none of it. She also didn’t want me to tell him things were not so rose coloured (I suppose depending on what colour roses you’re talking about of course).
The next day the patient was feeling much better. Amazing what a bit of blood will do. We chatted a bit. You know, shared a moment. He even laughed at how bad he had felt the previous day in comparison to today. Then it was back to business. In this case business meant I was going to take a long, not so thin pipe and stick it down his throat to take a quick look at the source of the bleeding in his stomach. I sort of lied to myself, telling myself that maybe I’d see something that could be fixed with a knife. In truth I knew what I would see. The palpable mass and the history dispelled almost all my doubt (or hope). But I knew I needed to look. I needed to know for sure how much or how little I would be able to do for him. Maybe I needed evidence for one day after it all when I am called to account.
The cancer was a large fungating mass with a deep necrotic core. It was gently oozing blood but I could see it was capable of so much more. It seemed to me it had stopped its torrent of blood long enough to give me a glimpse as if to taunt me. As if to say you know me and you know you have no power here. It was right.
After the procedure the patient once again started spewing forth blood. I sat with him for quite some time. between his retching we spoke.
“This is not good, doctor.”
“I know.” What more was there to say?
“What are we going to do?”
“We are going to hope the bleeding stops.” What more was there to do?
Then I went against the wishes of his wife. I told him this cancer was going to be the end of him. He looked at me with a calmness and a gentle smile.
“I know.”
He probably had known for some time but I think he felt he had to go along with the charade and maintain the lie with his wife. He seemed relieved that the truth was out. He seemed to relax.
That night the sister called me to tell me he was bleeding massively. I explained the situation and asked her to push blood IV. If that didn’t help, nothing that I could do would. The next morning he was dead.
Somehow when we sit behind our computers and in our nice expensive offices deciding about the futility of certain treatments and who should get what based on cost or whatever, the actual point is lost. The nice old man finally vanquished by the hideous monster called cancer or the old lady with heart disease or whatever who is forced to succumb to the dark inevitable is the point. It is the person, the individual. the one like me. and maybe like you.
I was just left with a sense of how difficult it is to stand back and let someone die when you know what that means. It, I assume, is much easier for the powers that be, snug in their artificial real worlds.
Dear President Obama,
I am in favor of Health Care Reform and I agree with you that universal coverage and eliminating the abuses that both patients and doctors have suffered at the whim of the for-profit insurance industry must be curtailed.
But I also want you to fix Medicare. Medicare is so bureaucratic that expanding it in its current form would be the death knell for primary care physicians and many community hospitals. The arcane methods of reimbursement, the ever expanding diagnosis codes, the excessive documentation rules and the poor payment to “cognitive, diagnosing, talking” physicians makes the idea of expansion untenable.
May I give you one small example, Mr. President? I moved my medical office in April. Six weeks before the move I notified Medicare of my pending change of address and filled out 22 pages of forms. Yes, Mr. Commander in Chief…22 pages for a change of address. It is now mid-August and I still do not have the “approval” for my address change.
I continue to care for my Medicare patients and they are a handful. Older folks have quite a number of medical issues, you see, and sometimes it takes 1/2 hour just to go over their medications and try to understand how their condition has changed. That is before I even begin to examine them and explain tests, treatment and coordinate their care. Despite the fact that I care for these patients, according the Medicare rules, I cannot submit a bill to Medicare because they have not approved my change of office address.
I have spent countless hours on the phone with Medicare and have sent additional documentation that they requested. I send the forms and information “overnight, registered” because a documented trail is needed to avoid having to start over at the beginning again and again. I was even required to send a signature from my “bank officer” and a utility bill from the office. Mr President, I don’t have a close relationship with a bank officer so this required a bank visit and took time away from caring for patients…but I certainly did comply.
I am still waiting to hear from Medicare. At my last call they said they had not received yet another document, but when I gave them the post office tracking number, they said it was received after all. They could not tell me when or if they will accept my address change.
I have bills stacking up since April and I just found out that they will not accept them if they are over 30 days old. I have cared for patients for 5 months and will not receive any reimbursement from Medicare. The rules state I cannot bill the patient or their supplemental Medicare insurance either.
Believe me, Mr. President, I commend you for taking on such a huge task. Please also know that Medicare reform is needed along with health care reform.
A loyal American ,
Internal Medicine (aka: primary care) physician
By 4: 30 am Saturday, the previously healthy 65-year-old female had a fever and lower extremity weakness. A family member heard her repetitive moaning. The patient got up to void, but could barely negotiate the one step up to the hallway. As she negotiated the hallway, she staggered.
By 5:00 am she was in the ER.
*****
The patient was taken to an exam room. Vital signs were taken and it was noted that the patient’s fever was “extremely high”. The doctor came into the room and the temp was re-taken. Extremely high. The patient had no insurance and was not verbal; the doctor discussed options with the family member.
The goal: find the source of the fever and begin treatment. A CBC, Chem 14, a urinalysis, an IV and hydration would be started. No lactate level would be done; the doctor stated it would be pointless to run a test that she already knew would be elevated based on clinical presentation. Blood cultures would be drawn, but not sent immediately. As the doctor explained, they are expensive and it would take days before the test results would be back.
In this facility, payment was expected at the time of treatment and a detailed estimate was provided to the family. The low end of the estimate was the deposit.
*****
By 8:30 am Saturday, the fever was still raging; the lab tests were normal. The patient was in ice packs with a fan in an attempt to lower the fever. An IV antibiotic was initiated; hydration was on-going. An internist and a neurosurgeon were consulted as the patient was experiencing lower back pain in addition to the profound weakness. The patient was admitted.
Further tests were proposed: lumbar x-ray to rule out spondylitis and, given the patient’s age, a chest x-ray to rule out occult pneumonia. The pros and cons of each test were fully explained along with rationale and the cost.
*****
The radiographic exams were normal. A loose bowel movement that morning had been blood-tinged. The patient had been medicated for pain. A second antibiotic was started. The next step would be an abdominal ultrasound, as no obvious source for the fever had been found. The rationale for the test and the cost were discussed and the family gave the go-ahead.
The spleen. Enlarged and mottled on ultrasound. A call was made to the family to discuss needle aspiration to rule out lymphoma.
*****
Monday morning the patient’s fever was down. She was eating. She was voiding. She was still weak, still moved slowly and awkwardly. She would be discharged home on oral antibiotics with the results of her spleen aspirate pending.
*****
It’s been a week now and the patient is acting 100% normally.
The patient was my dog, a 10-year-old, 70 pound Shepherd mix. We still don’t know what nearly killed her last weekend. The spleen aspirate was abnormal, but not lymphoma. The fact that the fever responded to antibiotics (as did the weakness) leaves us with the feeling that it was an infection in such an early stage that the source was not obvious.
I realize veterinary medicine is not human medicine, and a million holes can be found in my attempt to draw a parallel between them. But a few things crossed my mind during this experience:
(a) Tests were not done just for the sake of testing or because a printed standard said they should be. This was not template medicine dictated by any outside organization or government regulations.
(b) The doctor/patient relationship was unencumbered by insurance company approvals, government regulations, billing, coding or the number of patients that had to be seen in a certain time frame.
(c) there was full transparency regarding what each test would cost.
Maybe the human health care system can take a few pointers from what the veterinary world has been doing all along.
(P.S. I just realized you can read this story from the vantage point of ME being the third-party payer standing between the vet and my dog, deciding what would be “covered” – i.e. paid for. Interesting either way….)
*This blog post was originally published at Emergiblog*
Many of the surgeries I do are elective. They can and should be scheduled to be convenient. It happens – God laughs at our plans or life interrupts or …..
Last week was such a time for one patient. She called, very apologetic, “Dr Bates, I need to reschedule my surgery. My father is having tests done. He hasn’t been feeling well.”
I quickly assure her that no apology is necessary. Her family comes first. I suggest we simply cancel the surgery for now until the “dust settles.” She can call me back when she is sure things are okay with her family. We’ll reschedule then.
She is still worried. “The surgery center called me today. Do I need to call them? Will I need to pay them or anesthesia or you for the canceled time?”
Again I reassure her, “No, I’ll call them and take care of canceling the surgery. No, we don’t charge you for surgery we don’t do. It happens. It’s okay to cancel surgery for whatever reason – another family member gets sick, an accident happens, you just get scared.”
It happens on both sides. Sometimes (as for me earlier this year when my mother had surgery) it’s the doctor who has to cancel or reschedule. Sometimes it’s the patient. I once had a patient not show up for surgery, only to find out later she had been in a motor vehicle accident the evening before her scheduled surgery. She turned out to be okay, but it really cemented how I fell about patients who call to cancel or reschedule. It’s okay. No need to apologize. Thank you for letting me know.
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Surgeons are not stand back kind of people. They fall more comfortably into the category of charge in where angels fear to tread. I think the work tends to preferentially attract those type of people. But sometimes standing back can be the lesser of two very evil evils.
