February 1st, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
Tags: Cardiology, Geriatrics, Hospitals, News, Personal, Physical Medicine And Rehabilitation, Relationships
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For various reasons, our healthcare system has become very fragmented. Physicians are under financial incentives to do tests and procedures (rather than counsel patients), to become specialists instead of generalists, and to diagnose and treat large volumes of people at 5-10 minute intervals. Gone are the days when primary care physicians took care of 3 generations of family members, watching them grow, understanding their mental and physical health intimately, and helping them to get the right care at the right time. Doctors are rarely part of the family anymore, they’re robots on a really fast treadmill, doling out test results and prescribing procedures based on population based protocols deemed maximally efficient at treating disease at minimal cost.
Does this transition from trusted friend to mechanical puppet matter in terms of health outcomes? The argument is that using lab tests and evidence-based protocols substantially improve health – which is why government initiatives like Pay for Performance are pressuring physicians to treat you from a common diagnostic cookbook. But when we lose the human element in medicine, the long term relationships (aka “continuity of care”), we may misdiagnose people and prescribe inappropriate treatments. Working at lightning speed adds fuel to this dangerous fire. Perhaps a true life example will crystallize my arguments:
Frannie Miller was a thin 86 year old woman living independently with her husband. Although she was slightly forgetful, she managed to do all the cooking, cleaning, and general home upkeep. One day she slipped on the stairs entering her house and fell on the cement. She fractured two of her vertebrae and spent some time in the hospital to manage her pain. Upon discharge she decided to stay with her son’s family since she wasn’t able to return to her usual independent regimen. Her son, dutiful as he was, carefully recorded all of the medications that she had in her pill bottles, and set up a daily schedule to administer them to her. What her son didn’t realize, however, is that Frannie had been prescribed these medications by three different physicians operating independently of one another.
Frannie had mild heart failure with a tendency to retain some fluid around her ankles, so she was prescribed a low dose diuretic by a certain physician. Of course, Frannie didn’t think she really needed the medicine, and never took it. On a follow up visit with another physician, Frannie was noted to have the same mild ankle swelling, and (assuming that she was taking her medicine as directed) the new doctor believed that she needed a higher dose of the medicine and prescribed her a new bottle (which of course, Frannie never took). About 6 months later at a follow up appointment, a third physician met Fannie and further increased her diuretic dose.
So when Frannie arrived in a weakened state at her son’s house, and he decided to give her all the prescribed medications, she received a massive dose of diuretics for the first time. Several days after convalescing at home, Frannie became delirious (from severe dehydration) and not knowing why her mental status had changed, her son took her to the nearest hospital.
Of course, no one knew Frannie at the hospital and had no records or knowledge of her health history or her baseline mental status. She was admitted to a very busy general medicine floor where (after being examined only very briefly) she was believed to have advanced senile dementia and hospice care was recommended for her. Her son was told that she probably wouldn’t live beyond a few weeks and that he should take her home to die. A visiting nurse service was set up and Frannie was discharged home.
How is it that a fully functional 86 year old woman was sentenced to death? It was because of a lack of continuity of care (a shared online medical record could have helped) with doctors moving so quickly that no one took the time to sort out her real problem. Are diuretics appropriate treatment for heart failure? Yes. Did any one doctor violate Pay for Performance rules for heart failure? No. Did the population based protocols work for Frannie? Heck no.
There are so many Frannies out there in our healthcare system today. How can we measure the harm done to patients by the fragmentation of care? Who will collect that data and show the collateral damage of the death of primary care?
This particular cloud – thankfully – has a silver lining. A physician friend of Frannie’s son happened to inquire about her health. The son explained that she was dying, and the physician rightly pointed out that there was no real medical reason for her to be that ill. The friend asked to see her medication list, and knowing that Frannie weighed about 80 pounds was shocked to see a daily dose of 120mg of lasix. Slowly the diuretic SNAFU became clear and the family friend asked that Frannie be immediately rehydrated. She perked up like a wilted flower and returned to her usual state of health within days. Frannie was cured.
I believe that we must find a way to get shared medical records online for all Americans. Having scads of frantic specialists operating independent of one another for the wellbeing of the same patient, yet without being able to share a common record, is endangering an untold number of lives. Not having continuity of care – a primary care physician for each American – is also endangering lives and reducing quality of care. If we could get these two fixes in place, I believe we’d have revolutionized this country’s healthcare system.
What do you think?This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
January 27th, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in Humor, True Stories
Tags: Humor, Parenting, Pediatrics, Personal, Relationships
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I spent the weekend with 6 nieces and nephews, ranging in
age from 6 weeks to 13 years. One four-year-old niece was particularly
interested in engaging me. I tried to warn her that I was terribly boring and
that I wasn’t good at playing with dolls. But she remained unfazed by my
late-night protestations.
“Auntie Val would you like some ice?” She said, presenting
one melting ice cube to me in her warm hand.
“Hmm… no, not really, thanks.” I mustered a smile hoping
that she wouldn’t feel rejected.
The little girl went on, “Well, my bed is full of soft
blankets so you should put on your jammies and we can go to sleep there. It
will be a lot of fun.”
“Ah… well, that’s very kind of you to offer, but I think I
need my teddy bear to fall asleep. Uncle Steve is my teddy bear.” I pointed at
my husband sitting next to me on the couch.
The little girl replied matter-of-factly, “No he’s not. He’s
your cake.”
“Um… well, that’s an interesting way to look at it.” I
replied awkwardly.
“You know, if you kiss uncle Steve then you’ll be married.”
She went on.
Steve immediately kissed me on the cheek and smiled
triumphantly.
“No, you have to kiss her on the lips, uncle Steve.” The
little girl put her hands on her hips.
“Uh… well… Honey, would you like to marry me again?” I asked
sheepishly.
“Why yes I would…” and Steve gave me a peck on the lips.
Then the girl squealed with glee and ran around the coffee
table one and a half times.
Does this buy me a second honeymoon?This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
January 18th, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories, Uncategorized
Tags: Emergency Medicine, Infectious Disease
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A coworker (we’ll call her Tina) approached me yesterday for what she called “pseudo medical advice.” Apparently she had gone to a local sandwich shop with a friend, and purchased some bottled water to compliment her deli item. As the two sat down at a table and prepared to have a leisurely lunch, Tina twisted off the water top and took a big swig.
To her horror, she had taken a large gulp of what tasted like lemon soda instead. She checked the plastic bottle – it was marked as pure water. She instantly recalled that the bottle top had come off rather easily and she heard no characteristic suction noise as air first entered. She was gripped with fear – could this be a poisoning? Did someone tamper with the bottle to inflict harm on unsuspecting victims?
Tina’s friend advised her to call the Poison Control Center. The woman who answered asked if Tina was having any symptoms – nausea/vomiting, headache, dizziness, abdominal pain… She denied each of these, complaining only of some tingling around her mouth (probably because Tina was so worried that she was hyperventilating). The Poison Control Center recommended that she keep the bottle, call the water manufacturer, and go to the ER immediately if she experienced any symptoms.
Tina asked me if she had done the right thing and if I thought she might have been poisoned. I told her that calling the Poison Control Center was a good idea, and although the thought of drinking out of a stranger’s water bottle is fairly disgusting, here’s what I thought about her actual risk:
1. The most likely scenario is that someone was using the water bottle for their daily drink – refilling it with soda from home and taking it to work each day. They probably left it on a counter by accident and a clerk reshelved it in the cooler. I give this an 80% chance of being the cause of the SNAFU.
2. The second most likely scenario is that some kids wanted to pull a prank and intentionally filled the water bottle with soda to see what would happen when someone drank it. I give this a 19.99% likelihood.
3. The third potential explanation for what happened, which is very unlikely, is that a nefarious random killer is masking poison with Sprite or 7-Up in water bottles around the city. I give that a 0.0001% chance on the high side.
The reason why I don’t think Tina’s drama is consistent with a poisoning is three-fold:
1. Most poisonings are directed towards specific individuals – renegade spies, abusive spouses, unwanted kids, that sort of thing. It’s quite rare for people to bother to try to poison random individuals. In the rare cases where this has happened (take the Tylenol debacle of 1982 for example – where cyanide was carefully planted in non-tamper resistant bottles) the idea was to make the person think that the product they were taking was totally NORMAL. Otherwise, why would the person take the full dose? A water bottle filled with soda is a real red flag.
2. The most common deadly poisons are flavorless and odorless (cyanide and arsenic) so there would be no need to use lemon soda to cover the taste. Styrchnine is incredibly bitter and can’t be covered up easily – anthrax, ricin, and sarin have to be inhaled so they wouldn’t be as successful in a bottle form.
3. Tina had no immediate symptoms. Arsenic poisoning causes symptoms within 2-24 hours of exposure, with abdominal pain, headache, weakness, dizziness being the most common initial symptoms. They are followed by bloody urine, jaundice, and severe abdominal pain. For cyanide, the effects are very rapid – causing confusion, fainting, collapse and potential coma. Again, after 24 hours Tina was completely asymptomatic.
After discussing this with Tina she said she felt much better and she perked up nicely. Then tilted her head thoughtfully and asked, “could I catch an infectious disease from drinking out of someone else’s bottle? Like, could I get herpes?”
“Oh yes, that’s possible. Cold, flu, and herpes viruses can be transmitted from glasses and bottles.”
A look of horror crossed her face.
“Um… well (I tried to save all the reassuring I’d done about the poisoning) it’s probably unlikely… I uh, don’t know how long the bottle was sitting in the fridge, maybe the viruses dried up and died?”
“Well, thanks, Val. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
“Yep. You’ll probably be just fine. Did you have your flu shot this year?”
“Uh, no.”
“Oh, never mind.” I said.
And Tina turned around and left with about the same level of anxiety that she had arrived. We’d just switched poisoning for herpes or the flu. Oh well?This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
December 17th, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
Tags: Hospitals, Orthopedic Surgery, Personal, Physical Medicine And Rehabilitation, Radiology
5 Comments »
For more than a decade, I successfully avoided a visit to the orthopedist for a chronic elbow problem. Today I reluctantly decided, on the advice of a friend and orthopod, to go to the hospital and find out once and for all what could be causing my elbows to lock during certain exercises.
The process took 4 hours, all told. I registered at the clinic, then proceeded to the radiology suite to wait for some X-rays. There was a long line of legitimate-appearing X-ray candidates before me – some in casts, others in slings, still others limping pitifully. I was just fine and pain free, feeling a bit guilty – as if I might be wasting resources.
I glanced at the films as I put them in a folder to take back upstairs to the clinic – they looked perfectly normal. “Oh, boy.” I thought, “young Caucasian female complaining of elbow locking for 15 years, now with normal X-rays.” I bet the orthopedist is going to roll his eyes at me. I was escorted to an examining room where I sat on a table across from my normal X-rays, clipped on a light box.
A trim and athletic gentleman in his mid 60’s introduced himself to me. He had crystal blue eyes and short white hair… and disproportionately large hands (kind of the way Michelangelo’s David does). I was sure that I was the healthiest person he’d see that day. He glanced at my totally uninteresting elbow X-rays, took a deep breath and raised a skeptical eyebrow as he asked me to describe my difficulty.
“Well, when I’m at the gym, my elbows lock at about 15 degrees from full extension during certain exercises. It’s always during the eccentric phase of muscle contraction, and usually during a lat pulldown or seated row. If I rotate my forearm there’s a snap and the discomfort disappears and I can resume the exercise.”
He was impressed by the specificity of my description, and asked me to demonstrate the problem. I felt a little bit silly, but attempted to keep a straight face. Seeing that we were not going to be able to reproduce the problem without counter weight, the good doctor jumped in to simulate the exercise by pulling on my arm. I pulled back, and we soon realized that he was unable to apply a force strong enough to trigger the problem. In fact, I pulled the poor man off balance and nearly dropped him on the floor.
After a few more maneuvers he concluded that he had no idea whatsoever what the problem might be. He told me that since the X-rays were normal there was probably nothing to worry about, and that I might consider avoiding lifting weights in “clanky gyms filled with smelly, sweaty people.”
He dictated his note in front of me, highlighting my excellent health, unusual strength, and completely benign X-rays. He seemed to relish the whimsy of the fact that he was no physical match for me (a smallish blond woman) and added that I was unlikely to be damaging my elbows at the gym.
His advice, as I had anticipated, was to “stop doing the things that trigger the locking” and to consult him if I developed any neuropathic pain or effusions. He added that I reminded him of his daughter.
Well, it was an amusing interaction – but somewhat unsatisfying. It made me think of all the times that I wasn’t sure what was wrong with my patients, and how disappointed they were when I had to tell them this. Medicine is an inexact science at times – and the best that we can do is rule out the really bad stuff, and shrug when the rest remains unclear.
Have you had a problem but couldn’t find a diagnosis? Do tell…This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
December 14th, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in Humor, True Stories
Tags: Animals, Parenting, Personal, Relationships
3 Comments »
My sister Vicki lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan with her husband, three children and
an alarmingly large and slobbery Saint Bernard named Gilbert. Several Christmases ago she decided to teach her then 5 year old son, Harrison, about Christmas tree decorating. She took him to a Christmas tree farm and helped him select a tree. They hauled it back to the house and my sister managed, with no help whatsoever from Gilbert, to set it up in a nice corner of the living room. The tip of the tree reached the ceiling and its full figured branches spread from icy window to window.
Vicki and Harrison spent hours and hours winding lights, tinsel, ornaments, paper angels and popcorn strings around the tree. Little Harrison couldn’t wait to see the final product, with glittering lights and a magical star to top off their fine work. They decorated into the early evening, and the living room grew dark as the sun set over the snow covered neighborhood. At last it was time to plug in the tree lights.
As Vicki plugged in the lights for the first time, Gilbert roused himself from his resting place in front of the fireplace and shook off his drowsiness. Harrison held his breath in eager anticipation of the twinkling display that he had helped to create. My sister turned off all the overhead lights.
As the plug entered the outlet, the tree lit up with thousands of tiny glittering lights. Harrison
marveled at his glorious creation. “Mom, it’s the most beautiful tree in the world!”
My sister sat down on the couch and hugged her son tightly in her lap as they relaxed and enjoyed the view. Suddenly, Harrison’s eyes fixated on one of the branches.
“Mom… look! There’s an icicle on the tree!!”
My sister squinted and followed the direction of Harrison’s pointing finger.
Sure enough, there was a glassy, 5 inch long, icicle-appearing object perched in a tree branch in the middle of the tree.
Harrison’s raised his voice with glee: “Mom! It’s a Christmas MIRACLE!!”
The little boy broke free of his mom’s grasp and ran up to the tree to inspect the icicle at close range. As he reached out his hand to clasp it, his look of amazement turned to horror. The icicle was in fact a long
string of dog drool that had flicked off of Gilbert when he shook himself out of his sleep.
“Ewww!!!” Harrison screamed. My sister slowly realized what had happened and started laughing
uncontrollably. Gilbert wanted to get in on the fun and began barking and running in circles. He became tangled up in the extension cord and pulled the tree right out of the tree stand. At that moment, Vicki’s husband returned from shopping with the other 2 children. As he turned on the lights he found my sister
trapped under an unraveling Christmas tree, a hysterical child frantically wiping his hands on paper towel, and a barking, drooling Gilbert in the midst.
“What happened here?!” he shouted, attempting to rescue Vicki from underneath the tree.
“It’s a Christmas miracle” was her muffled cry.
And this story will be in our family for a long time to come.
This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
