March 23rd, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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I just learned a valuable lesson.
A friend of mine described some fluid build up in her knee, made worse by exercise. She said she had seen an orthopedist who recommended surgery… and she wondered what I thought. Based on her description, I assumed that she had an acute knee effusion – potentially from some recent exercise-induced ligament or meniscal damage.
My friend said that she was concerned about having surgery, and that she was planning to have an MRI first. I must admit that I was a little bit confused as to why surgery was recommended so quickly, without having the MRI results to confirm the cause of the effusion (and that surgical correction was warranted). My knee jerk response was to question the clinical judgment of the orthopedist, and to wonder if he was too “surgery happy” and was leading my friend away from conservative measures (of which I am a great fan).
Several weeks passed, and I finally met my friend in person for a quick look at her knee (she was still waiting for the MRI). Guess what? She did NOT have a knee joint effusion at all. What she had was an almond-sized ganglion cyst on the side of her knee.
I felt pretty silly. Of course the orthopedist recommended surgery (a tiny procedure under local anesthetic) without the MRI. He was indeed offering the appropriate treatment.
Sometimes a picture’s worth 1000 words. And sometimes the physical exam can make the diagnosis – no other studies needed.This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
March 1st, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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I was reading Keagirl’s latest post about a urology consult that she did in the psychiatric lock-down unit. Her patient was hearing voices – specifically that his left testicle was speaking to him. The good doctor was able to maintain a straight face through the exam and interview. There have been times when I suspect that my expression has given away my underlying feelings. A few of my awkward moments:
***
Dr. Val: Hello, Mr. R. I understand that you’ve had thrush in the recent past, and that your CD4 count has been as low as 25. Have you had any problems with thrush lately?
Mr. R: Oh, not at all. I found a way to cure it.
Dr. Val: Oh, very good. Tell me what works for you [expecting to hear ‘nystatin swish and swallow’ or ‘diflucan,’ I smile hopefully at the patient].
Mr. R: Well, basically since I started drinking my own urine the thrush has gone away.
Dr. Val: Oh… [pregnant pause] I see [scribbles note on clipboard as she takes one step back from the bedside.]
***
Dr. Val: [interviewing new patient in the inpatient drug detox program] So tell me a little bit about what brings you here today, Mr. S.
Mr. S: Well, you know, I have a real problem with crack cocaine, heroine, and alcohol.
Dr. Val: Yes, I see. Well, it’s good that you’re here now. [I smile genuinely].
Mr. S: But doc, I have to tell you why this all started.
Dr. Val: [Leaning forward, expecting a potentially important insight] Yes, what do you think is behind the drug addiction, Mr. S?
Mr. S: Well, I was born with a deformed penis and I think a lot of this has to do with my low self-esteem.
Dr. Val: Hmm. Well, I can see how that might be very challenging to overcome [eyebrows furrowing in a concerned expression mixed with mild awkwardness and some surprise].
Mr. S: I’d really like to show you what I’m talking about.
Dr. Val: Um… well, I uh… don’t think that will be necessary at this time. I trust you…
***
Nurse: [calling from psychiatric lock-down unit]: Is this the rehab consultant?
Dr. Val: Yes, I’m on call for rehab today.
Nurse: We have a man here with difficulty swallowing and we were wondering if you could take a look.
Dr. Val: Ok, what brought him to the psychiatric lock down unit?
Nurse: Well, he tried to kill a nurse at the transferring hospital – she got too close and he got a hold of her neck. But he’s not too hard to pry off because he has no eyes.
Dr. Val: No eyes?!
Nurse: Yeah, he cut them out several years ago during a psychotic episode. He used a piece of broken glass to gouge out his eyes and cut off his nose and ears too.
Dr. Val: Oh my gosh… that’s really terrifying. [Pauses with images of Silence of the Lambs floating through her mind] May I ask why he can’t swallow?
Nurse: I don’t know why he can’t swallow. That’s why I’m calling you.
Dr. Val: Well, I mean, how do you know he’s not swallowing? Did you see him choke?
Nurse: No he’s not drinking at all.
Dr. Val: Well, is there a cup next to him? Does he know it’s there?
Nurse: [silence]
Dr. Val: Ok, I’ll put him on my consult list…
***
You can’t make this stuff up.This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
February 1st, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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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 16th, 2008 by Dr. Val Jones in News
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We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
– The US Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776
When I was in college I spent my summers working with mentally and physically disabled adults in group homes and camps. Many of the patients had IQs<75, which presented a unique communication challenge. Emotional outbursts were not uncommon as the adults used the only form of communication that seemed to draw attention to an immediate need. I spent a lot of my time trying to predict needs before frustrations bloomed, and after getting to know the peculiarities of each individual, I could generally keep the group in a fairly content state.
Most of the adults were on a long list of medications – some were for epilepsy, others were for heart defects, but many were antipsychotics and sedatives. At the time I didn’t realize exactly what each medicine was for, and wondered why these relatively young men and women needed so many pills.
In retrospect I believe that many of the medicines were a misguided attempt to control behavior. It’s analogous to giving someone, with their hand in a bucket of very hot water, a pain medicine instead of removing their hand from the bucket. And now new research in the Lancet suggests that antipsychotic medications (such as haldol or risperdal) do little or nothing to control aggressive behavior in the mentally disabled (though not psychotic) population.
So why have we been giving mentally disabled individuals antipsychotics for decades? Sadly, we thought that these pills would provide a quick and easy way to conform their behavior to our sensibilities, without having to get to know the reasons for their frustrations. And of course, these people weren’t intellectually sophisticated enough to question the utility of this approach or to decline the use of such medications.
I find it terribly sad that it has taken us this long to realize that giving anti-psychotics to mentally impaired people is not in their best interest. Surely more evidence would have been gathered prior to subjecting “normal” adults to such treatments. In this imperfect world, it does seem that those without a voice are less often heard. It is our responsibility as healthcare professionals to look after their interests and not take the easy way out. Mentally disabled individuals have the right to express themselves, and to be free of unproven and unnecessary drug treatments. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Our own Declaration of Independence argues as much.This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
December 17th, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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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.
