Archive Page 155

The Great Imposter

“I hate to leave you with such an unfinished workup”, my senior colleague, Dr. Wilford Brown, said three Thursdays ago. He was going on vacation and Norman Sprague had just been in to see him with a one day history of a strange pain near his right shoulder blade.

Mr. Sprague is a 68 year old retired accountant with rheumatism and diabetes. Dr. Brown ordered some bloodwork and a chest X-ray and told the patient to stay in touch with me about his symptoms.

“I wonder if it’s early shingles”, Dr. Brown told me.

The next day I got the negative wet read of the chest X-ray and a bunch of normal blood tests and a phone message from Mr. Sprague that he was getting some nausea. I told Autumn to have him come in to get reexamined.

Norman didn’t have a fever, and he didn’t have a rash or any alteration of skin sensation on his torso. His lymph nodes and breath sounds were normal and his abdomen was soft. But if I pressed hard enough over his gallbladder, he did hurt – that was obvious from his facial expression. He told me the pain was also I the lower front of his chest now, to the right of his sternum just by his lowest rib. It was relentlessly steady and unaffected by movements or deep breathing. He denied any shortness of breath. He told me was nauseous but still able to eat a little, and he had not vomited. His ribs weren’t tender. His bowels were normal and his urine had normal color.

I ordered a gallbladder ultrasound. There were no gallstones, but the radiologist said there was a suggestion of sludge in the gallbladder and the common bile duct was at the upper limit of normal size.

I called one of our local surgeons. He suggested doing a plain HIDA scan. Because of the national shortage of cholecystokinine, that is the only type of biliary scan we can get right now. The test showed that the gallbladder filled normally, but the tracer was slow to travel down the bile ducts and into the duodenum.

Last Monday, Norman met with the surgeon, who called and said he was pretty sure the pain was biliary, but also told me that over the weekend before the consultation, Norman had developed shortness of breath and dizzines. I asked him to send Norman over so I could reassess him.

He was not all that short of breath and did not have a cough, but his breathing had changed since I saw him last. He admitted that he had had some difficulty shopping at Walmart since last winter because he felt “out of shape” pushing a cart up and down the aisles. He also described his right-sided chest pain as more severe, but still unrelated to movement and breathing.

He had dizziness and a hint of nystagmus only when turning his head to the left in a supine position with an otherwise normal ENT and neuro exam, so I was comfortable ascribing his dizziness to Benign Positional Vertigo.

His oxygen saturation was normal and his EKG was unchanged from three years ago.

I ordered a PE protocol contrast chest CT, which did not show any pulmonary emboli, but it did show mildly enlarged mediastinal lymph nodes and three nodules peripherally in the right lung, the largest one just over an inch. I had also ordered an abdominal CT, which was perfectly normal. The nuclear stress test I also ordered that day came back normal. By that time I had called Cityside Pulmonary Associates. They promised to look over the images and get back to us with an appointment.

Norman Sprague called back two days later. He had received a call from the pulmonary office, telling him he was on a cancellation list, but only had a firm appointment for the first week in October.

I called the thoracic surgery group at Cityside and got to talk with Dan Grossman. He looked at the images and when I asked him if a video assisted thoracoscopy was an option for getting a tissue diagnosis, he said, yes, but bronchoscopy would be better. I told him about the long want to see a pulmonologist.

“Either we or they will see him sooner”, Dan said. I’ll get back to you. Twenty minutes later he called me back. “It’s all set, Roger White will see him on Friday and do a scope then.”

Norman had his bronchoscopy. The needle aspirates were benign and the washings and cultures negative. Dr. White’s note listed sarcoidosis and methotrexate related lung disease as the top differential diagnoses, and he thought a PET CT would be the next step, and maybe a percutaneous needle biopsy of the distal lesions.

Today I met with Norman and his wife to go over the results that had come in after the bronchoscopy. As I reexamined his abdomen, he was more tender in the right upper quadrant than before, and when I lifted up the back of his shirt there was a red spot with a small, raised center, not a blister but more of a papule.

“Ouch, that’s sore”, he said.

And so I leave Norman Sprague in the competent hands of Dr. Brown, who returns from his vacation tomorrow. Norman’s lung nodules and lymphadenopathy still remain to be diagnosed, and he still may have gallbladder disease, but he also, again, has the original working diagnosis of herpes zoster, the great imposter.

Less is More, More or Less

Cholesterol is bad. Cholesterol is an essential building block for important hormones.

Eggs are bad. Eggs are a complete protein food.

Salt is bad. Salt is essential for life.

High blood pressure kills people. No blood pressure defines death.

High blood sugar causes eye and kidney damage. Low blood sugar causes falls, fractures and car wrecks.

Low potassium causes heart rhythm problems. High potassium causes heart rhythm problems.

Too little vitamin B-12 causes nerve damage. Too much vitamin B-12 causes nerve damage.

The ancient physicians, from Hippocrates in Greece to the Yellow Emperor in China, to Ekiken in Japan and Charaka in India, all spoke of the virtues of moderation.

Why do we in our culture go to excess in our pursuit of wellness? We always seem to want to classify foods and nutrients as either good or bad. Depending on how we classify them, we go to excess in consuming them or we deprive ourselves of even necessary amounts of them.

There is even a newish disease, defining the extremes of such behavior, “orthorexia nervosa”.

The latest scuttlebutt of this sort is the new findings that low sodium diets are associated with greater risk of ending up dead than moderate salt diets. The editorial about the studies published in this week’s New England Journal of Medicine made me late for my nightly rounds to check on the barn animals Wednesday night. The piece was interesting, but ultimately no more enlightening than reciting the old adages “everything in moderation” and “nothing to excess”.

Somehow, we here in America have been conditioned to seek expert guidance over our own common sense or our Grandmothers’ advice. We listen to Government advice about drinking eight glasses of water per day whether we are joggers in Memphis during August or mailmen in Anchorage during January. We even listen to medical experts in unrelated fields who promote the latest nutrition and supplement fads on TV for their own profit.

The problem with turning the findings of scientific studies into practical advice or medical treatments is that science only produces data. “Data-driven” has become a buzzword today, just like “evidence based”, or a new one I heard recently, “evidence supported”.

What is wrong with both “data” and “evidence” is that neither entity equals truth, value, practicality or “wisdom”, not to mention the “fact” that the scientific “evidence” has changed many times over about a great many things just in the last few decades. If people wearing astronaut-like Ebola suits are less likely to also get the flu, does that mean we should all wear them during the winter months? Probably not. If tall bachelors have more dates than short ones, should we issue platform shoes to the vertically challenged (my very first blog post)? It was tried to a degree in the 1980’s, but never quite worked out.

Data is meaningless without context or “big picture”. Medical research, by its nature, analyzes small and easily defined parameters within the vast systems we call health and disease. What makes perfect sense to do for the well-being of one corner of our anatomy or physiology may have disastrous consequences for another and possibly for the whole organism. Each scientific study only aims at illuminating one small aspect of life. Only with an understanding of the bigger picture can we decide how to use the nuggets of “fact” science produces.

Even more than a view of the big picture is required to truly make use of data: Common sense, trivial as that may sound, is required when making judgements and setting priorities. This is what has gone missing in our collective enthusiasm at the advances of science in the past century. My Grandmother, who would have been 114 this year, but only lived to be 96, already knew that a little salt, fat or sugar never hurt anyone, but eating anything to excess was not healthy.

Both Hippocrates and Grandma, without the advantages of scientific data, knew in their hearts by virtue of their common sense what science has finally seemed to confirm.

We, as a culture, need to take advantage of both our shared, ancient wisdom and the advances of science, but either one without the other is likely to sometimes lead us astray.

Semmelweis’ analysis of why midwives’ postpartum infection rates were only a fraction of doctors’ and medical students’ is an example of science serving to explain what common sense already knew: Touching the dead before delivering babies made bad things happen.

Population studies, on the other hand, where we seek to find out if vegetarians, salt fiends, runners, nurses or yoga practitioners are healthier than others after decades of doing what they do are so fraught with uncontrollable variables that we are likely to be confused; it took twenty years to find out that postmenopausal estrogen treatment didn’t decrease heart attack rates in older women as the experts had speculated. Too many years of a good thing turned out to be bad.

My Grandmother could have told us that taking drugs to thwart aging didn’t make any sense. So could Hippocrates. They both had common sense. We need to cultivate ours in order to properly make use of today’s exponentially increasing amount of data.

Come to think of it, data seems to be a little bit like salt: Either too little or too much can be debilitating. We should let our common sense regulate our consumption.

Calling Mrs. Kafka

“Prior Authorizations, Mrs. Kafka. May I have your name and the patient’s policy number.”

“My name is Country Doctor, and I don’t have the patient’s number but I have her husband’s – it is 123456789”.

“Thank you, Doctor. This is for Harry Black?”

“Well, no, it’s for his wife, Harriet. We asked for a PA for Lyrica for her, but it was approved for him instead, even though the forms we sent you clearly stated her name.”

“I see that Harry is approved for one year.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t need it. He has no diagnosis and no symptoms. Someone at your end reversed the names, because the application was for Harriet. I have a copy right here in front of me. So can we just get this approval switched over to her name instead?”

“I’m sorry, we can’t.”

“But why?”

“She’s a different patient.”

“But everything we sent in was on her. You were the ones who put it under his name instead. It was your mistake and I’m asking that you correct your mistake.”

“I’m sorry, but we have to process Harriet’s Prior Authorization separately. What is her diagnosis?”

(Sigh)

“Postherpetic neuralgia.”

“Is she currently taking Lyrica for this?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see any pharmacy claims for Lyrica in her profile.”

“That’s because you don’t pay for it. That’s why you and I are talking right now, isn’t it? She’s been using samples.”

“Lyrica is not covered for that diagnosis. Studies have shown that other drugs usually control symptoms…”

“Now, wait a minute, your company already approved it for that indication when you looked at the paperwork we sent in before, all that happened was that you misread the name of the patient! And if you didn’t read her papers and still approved it for her husband with no diagnosis at all, you can’t exactly say you’re following any firm principles there at MegaScripts!”

“I’m sorry, Doctor. We have to process her request from the beginning.”

“This woman has suffered for two months and has taken several other drugs before getting any relief -amitriptyline, gabapentin, and she’s on Effexor, so there is no point in trying Cymbalta. If you can’t or won’t correct your own mistake, and if you can’t accept what I’m telling you now, I just can’t sit here and argue any longer with you. I’ve got patients waiting. Just tell me where to fax the information.”

“The number is 1-888-000-6666. Now, did you say she had tried ga-ba-pen-tin?”

“Yes, that’s what I said, and that’s what I wrote on the form we already sent you!”

“All right, hold on, Doctor. I’m getting an approval here. O.K., I have a number for you. It is 9921465. And it’s good until August 12, 2015.”

“Thank you!”

(Sigh)

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, that’s all I have time for today, even if I needed anything more from you.”

“Then, you have a nice day and thanks for calling MegaScripts.”

(Click)

Is it the Devil or God in the Detail?

“We must bear in mind the difference between thoroughness and efficiency. Thoroughness gathers all the facts, but efficiency distinguishes the two-cent pieces of non-essential data from the twenty-dollar gold pieces of fundamental fact.”

Dr. William Mayo

The practice of medicine involves a lot of details, but details without the big picture are meaningless at best and distracting at worst.

The expression “The Devil is in the Detail(s)” implies that the details can trip you up, whereas the original, older, idiom “God is in the Detail(s)” conveys the importance, even beauty or virtue, of paying attention to the details when trying to do good work.

I think medicine has lost sight of the big picture when it comes to its thoroughness and its pursuit of efficiency. And I don’t see much beauty or virtue in today’s medical charts.

This was going on before electronic medical records, but quantum leaped with the switch from transcribed dictation to click boxes and copy-and-paste functionalities.

The root of this problem lies with the Evaluation and Management (E&M) coding that literally gives points for how many questions a doctor asks about a symptom – onset, character, duration, severity and so on. Points are also given for documenting which symptoms a patient doesn’t have. In earlier times, we used the phrase “pertinent negatives” for items a reasonable physician would want to know in order to work through the possible differential diagnoses for a particular symptom

With the reimbursement system we now have, the number of questions and physical exam items, regardless of whether they are relevant or just filler material, drives physicians’ income and practices’ bottom line.

It was often possible when reading an old-fashioned, dictated, narrative to relatively quickly sort through the irrelevant items, particularly if the style and grammar were used to provide emphasis. For example, when dictating, you had the option of grouping all the negatives together and of keeping the positives separate and emphasized. With an EMR, the items in structured data entry fields tend to come in a predetermined order, making it much harder for the reader to find the relevant items.

The forest of details in today’s medical record serves purposes other than the efficient documentation for doctors to remember their own inquiry and thought processes. It also isn’t primarily designed for doctors to communicate to each other what they have observed and how they propose to treat it.

Today, under the new Government edicts, medical records have to contain hoards of details doctors never thought were relevant, but politicians and insurance actuaries do and future generations of researchers might. Plaintiffs’ lawyers and medical boards might need them, and patients need to be able to read them, so we can no longer create notes that efficiently document our findings, conclusions and plans. It is as if the conductor’s sheet music at the Symphony could no longer have musical notes, G-clefs and technical terms like “mezzo forte”, in case a non-musician wanted to follow along with the orchestra.

It is a bizarre situation: Imagine the Ministry of Culture requiring that all poetry contain certain elements about the beauty of America and the threat of global warming. Similar things have happened in countries that shall not be named here.

This is where the religious analogy really plays out: Which higher power decides the relative importance of what details in medical records? I have a theory.

Details, details, details…

Neither Doctor nor Priest

It is the year of Woodstock. The motorcycle accident victim lies quietly in his hospital bed. By all accounts, the surgery has gone well and Richard’s initial prognosis had been good. But his vital signs are deteriorating and he seems distant and despondent.

Marcus Welby knows the trouble isn’t physical. He calls on the parish priest, who seems slow to respond. The priest, twenty years younger than Welby, is also his patient, and has been suffering from asthma attacks. Welby believes they are due to Father Hugh’s struggles with feelings of inadequacy as a priest.

Richard turns the priest away and appears to be dying. The priest feels ready to give up the priesthood.

Marcus Welby, who had been urging the younger priest to take a break because of his asthma, now urges him to get to work. He tells Father Hugh that he has also failed many times, but failures are no excuse for quitting. The gravity of the situation mobilizes new strength in Dr. Welby, and his humanity and passion inspire Father Hugh to admit to himself and the young accident victim that, even though he is a priest, he struggles like all human beings. That honesty makes young Richard open up to Father Hugh and he begins to recover.

What neither doctor nor priest could do alone, the two men working together are accomplishing. This is what happens in a December 1969 episode of Marcus Welby, M.D., “Neither Punch nor Judy”.

The cars seemed more old-fashioned than I remember them from those days, and the 1969 medical standards of care are definitely as old-fashioned as the cars, but the struggles of the three men from three different generations are timeless.

I decided to watch this episode after rereading my post “The Apostolic Nature of our Profession” when I linked to it the other day. The video illustrates many things about medicine that we are no better at today than 45 years ago, or 2,400 years ago, for that matter:

“The cure of the part should not be attempted without treatment of the whole. No attempt should be made to cure the body without the soul. If the head and body are to be healthy you must begin by curing the mind…for this is the great error of our day in the treatment of the human body, that physicians first separate the soul from the body.”

Plato


I just realized none of the posts show on an iPad or a computer, but they do show on an iPhone. WordPress is working on this. In the meantime, please visit my Substack.

 

 

Osler said “Listen to your patient, he is telling you the diagnosis”. Duvefelt says “Listen to your patient, he is telling you what kind of doctor he needs you to be”.

 

BOOKS BY HANS DUVEFELT, MD

CONDITIONS, Chapter 1: An Old, New Diagnosis

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