GlassHospital

Demystifying Medicine One Week at a Time

Page 2 of 68

Anxiety

How are you feeling post-election?

In the practice of medicine, we use validated questionnaires like the PHQ-9 to screen for depression or the GAD-7 to screen for anxiety.

My wife, a family doctor, administered the GAD-7 to a patient of hers this week; post-election, I started wondering how many Americans could be diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder* right now.

Go ahead and take the quiz yourself:

ioi60000f1

What’s your score?

A score of five or more indicates mild symptoms. Ten or more moves you to moderate. Fifteen or more means you are highly likely to have diagnosable anxiety disorder–what the experts call generalized anxiety disorder.*

If you’re in this highest category, think about getting help. You can start with your primary care physician. She can help you directly or refer you to other community mental health resources that can be helpful.

*Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5):

A. Excessive anxiety and worry (apprehensive expectation), occurring more days than not for at least 6 months, about a number of events or activities (such as work or school performance).
B. The individual finds it difficult to control the worry.
C. The anxiety and worry are associated with three (or more) of the following six symptoms (with at least some symptoms having been present for more days than not for the past 6 months):
Note: Only one item is required in children.

  1. Restlessness or feeling keyed up or on edge.
  2. Being easily fatigued.
  3. Difficulty concentrating or mind going blank.
  4. Irritability.
  5. Muscle tension.
  6. Sleep disturbance (difficulty falling or staying asleep, or restless, unsatisfying sleep).

D. The anxiety, worry, or physical symptoms cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.
E. The disturbance is not attributable to the physiological effects of a substance (e.g., a drug of abuse, a medication) or another medical condition (e.g., hyperthyroidism).

Medical Revolution(s)?

9780465050642This week an essay in the New England Journal of Medicine asks if our collective learning to handle uncertainty should be ‘the next medical revolution.’ It caught my eye because many of the medical educators I follow on social networks were abuzz about it.

Coincidentally, I’m reading a fuller-length exploration of medical uncertainty, a book called “Snowball in a Blizzard,” by Steven Hatch, an infectious diseases doc at UMass.

Both the essay and the book remind us to have humility: though medical technology and scientific knowledge have leapt ahead and continue to hurtle forward, our profession’s abilities to diagnose, treat, or predict future health outcomes with precision remain stubbornly elusive.

The metaphor of the ‘snowball in a blizzard’ comes from the world of radiology–in particular mammograms. That’s what radiologists who read mammograms are looking for on the images they see. It’s challenging and inexact work. Often they miss tumors that are cancerous; to correct for this, it’s natural that radiologists need to be extra cautious and have women with anything even remotely suspicious follow up for more images and possibly biopsies. [With negative biopsies, such mammograms become known as ‘false positives.’]

I agree with the thesis that we should all become more comfortable with uncertainty. But it will be challenging.

As patients, we want our doctors and scientists to be able to give us predictions that are accurate.

  • Is this the right diagnosis?
  • Will this treatment work?
  • How long have I got?

As doctors, we wish we had greater ability to answer these questions.

As ‘consumers,’ we are fed an unending stream of media that tell us what we ‘should’ do, what we ‘need’ to be healthy, and what will make us live longer. Much of it never offers the necessary caveats about the inexactness of the science. This will be an uphill battle.

I was pleased to see a chapter in Hatch’s book devoted to health media, featuring Gary Schwitzer and his website HealthNewsReview.org. Gary has devoted his latter career to debunking medical hype. His site is well worth perusing.

We Used To Sell Cigarettes in Hospitals

nurse_1471846fNice article in STAT, a relatively new Boston Globe-affiliated publication devoted entirely to health care. Melissa Bailey reminds us that ‘candystripers’ used to sell cigarettes to patients to comfort them while hospitalized.

How quaint.

She goes on to point out 5 practices that will seem just as antiquated. Soon, we hope.

  1. Advising doctors NOT to say, “I’m sorry.” Hospitals still do this. It can be seen as an admission of guilt, the thinking goes.
  2. Have prescription labels that don’t indicate what the medicine is for. How smart. And not even close to standard at present.
  3. Not washing our hands in front of you every time. ‘Nuff said.
  4. Spending more time typing than talking and listening to you. We can hope, can’t we?
  5. Easily getting your medical records, without your having to pay, wait, fill out forms, or just be hassled like you’re asking for state secrets.

I think this is an excellent list. There are no doubt dozens more. (Why do we awaken people in the hospital so often?) What are your ideas for health care pet peeves you’d like to see abolished?

The Evolution of Hospitals

I-love-Lucy-assembly-line-300x223Once upon a time, a hospital was a place you went if you were sick. Doctors would (ideally) figure out what was wrong, offer treatment, and you would convalesce.

The longer you stayed in a hospital, the more the hospital could charge you (your insurance, really — if you had it).

This all changed in 1983, with the advent of the DRG system (it stands for Diagnosis-Related Group). Almost overnight, the incentives for hospitals changed. With DRG payment, the hospital would get one ‘bundled’ payment for the whole hospitalization based on the patient’s diagnosis. Average length of stay for hospitalized patients went from thirty days (imagine: a month(!) in a hospital). Hospital executives saw the need to minimize length of stay — depending on the payment for each diagnosis, there would be an inflection point when a patient staying beyond a certain number of days would result in financial loss.

‘Throughput’ became the term of art. (Like widgets on an assembly line.)

Now the average time someone spends in a hospital is a little more than four days. (Of course, for mothers with normal births, this is even less — about 2 days. Many surgeries that used to necessitate several days in the hospital are now done on an outpatient basis. Length of stay in those situations: zero.)

A recent essay on this topic in the New York Times by Dr. Abigail Zuger brought back memories for me. I once had a teacher tell me, “No one should ever need to be in a hospital. Except for some cardiac conditions that require immediate care, the only people winding up in hospitals are frail elders, and those with social problems and no place to go — the mentally ill, the destitute, the homeless.” I remember feeling a bit shocked by this, but as I reflected on it, I realized he had a point. I should start with the assumption, he told me, “that almost no one really needs to be there and they’re better off at home.”

The modern condition leads us to keep people in hospitals for as short a duration as possible. But something is clearly lost. As Dr. Zuger writes:

Hospitals were where you stayed when you were too sick to survive at home; now you go home anyway, cobbling together your own nursing services from friends, relatives and drop-in professionals.

Patients often go home feeling brutalized by all the blood draws, hospital food, and lack of sleep. Rare is the patient who says, “I feel better now — can I go home?” Often we send them home before they feel ready.

It sounds a bit cruel, and like there’s a perverse incentive at play. But keeping people in the hospital is also inherently risky. Hospitalization can cause infections, loss of muscle and coordination (especially in older folks), falls, and delirium. So getting people out as quickly as possible is in many ways the right thing to do.

The truth, however, probably lies somewhere in the middle.

e-Patient Dave

406px-Dave_deBronkart-20091229Last week I had the good fortune to meet Dave deBronkart, a man known throughout the world by the simple moniker “e-Patient Dave.”

Dave’s story is widely known: diagnosed with metastatic kidney cancer at age 56 in 2007, he was given a prognosis of six months to live. By scouring the internet and crowdsourcing ideas for newer therapies (and their pitfalls), Dave tried an at-the-time-experimental therapy (with an efficacy of 20% back then) called IL-2.

Happily, it worked. Next year Dave will reach his tenth anniversary of being cancer free.

The world is a much better place with Dave in it. Taking the full measure of his experiences in health care, Dave has become one of the leading voices of participatory medicine — the (not-so) revolutionary idea that patients should be directly involved in their own health care.

He is now a sought after public speaker, thinker, advocate, and collaborator.

He gave a TED talk in 2011 that you can view at the bottom of this post. Last year, I shared a blog post he wrote about his wife Ginny’s amazing experience undergoing quadricep-sparing bilateral knee replacements from orthopedic surgeon Howard Luks.

One thing I always thought was that the term ‘e-patient’ referred to ‘electronic,’ as in ’email.’ In fact, Danny Sands, who has long been Dave’s primary care doctor, is one of medicine’s earliest adopters of using email to correspond with his patients. He also was instrumental in setting ground rules for its use (e.g. never use email in an emergency).

But as I found out in preparing to meet with Dave, the “e” in ‘e-patient’ actually stands for

  • EMPOWERED
  • ENGAGED
  • EQUIPPED
  • ENABLED

Dave and the e-patient movement, united behind such advocacy groups as the Society for Participatory Medicine (S4PM) seek to use the collective power of engaged clinicians and patients to find the best available help at the time it’s needed.  From the S4PM website:

Participatory Medicine is a model of cooperative health care that seeks to achieve active involvement by patients, professionals, caregivers, and others across the continuum of care on all issues related to an individual’s health. Participatory medicine is an ethical approach to care that also holds promise to improve outcomes, reduce medical errors, increase patient satisfaction and improve the cost of care.

There’s no doubt that there are people in my profession who still cling to the ideal of the doctor being the repository of information, who view the patient as more of a passive ‘customer.’

For some patients, too, this is still a comfortable model. And that’s OK, if that’s what you want. But there’s a whole world of engaged docs and patients out there that want to interact in many of the new ways: via email, through social media, using patient portals (special protected systems that allow you to reach your health care team or look at results), even video chats (telemedicine, anyone?).

I learned some of Dave’s interesting backstory: He graduated from MIT, calling his time there ‘vocational school.’ That’s because his best takeaway skill was typesetting — he was trained to typeset the school newspaper. Throughout the 70s an 80s Dave held a number of jobs in the field, where he found one of his best skills was being a translator: explaining engineering-speak to the sales people, and explaining the needs of sales people to the engineers.

I spent more than two hours with Dave — including an interview in a library followed by a lunch. The man is a tour de force. I look forward to continuing our dialogue.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2017 GlassHospital

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑