Archive Page 168

Fifty-Fifty Propositions

Lately, my virtual inbox in our electronic medical record has seen a surge in requests for prescriptions for the vaccine against Herpes Zoster, shingles. This has made me think a lot about our responsibility as physicians to inform patients about the evidence behind our recommendations – but who informs the patients when doctors are kept out of the loop or put under pressure to prescribe without seeing the patient?

What has happened is that our local Rite-Aid Pharmacy started to give these shots, covered by many insurers, but still requiring a doctor’s prescription.

I cannot give the shots in my clinic, because as a Federally Qualified Health Center, we are reimbursed at a fixed rate. The shingles vaccine costs more for us to buy than we charge for an entire office visit. I used to have the discussion about the shot, and would give patients a prescription to take to the pharmacy if they wanted it.

The pharmacy can give the shot at a profit, because it is considered a medication, just like a bottle of Lipitor.

The new system creates a bit of a dilemma for me. I get a message through the pharmacy that the patient wants the shot, and I don’t have the opportunity to sit down and review the effectiveness, side effects and long-term efficacy according to the available evidence with the patient.

For example, the shingles vaccine only cuts the risk of getting shingles in half. This is about the same effectiveness as the flu vaccine, but far less than, say, the vaccine against smallpox, which has now been eradicated.

Most patients are very surprised to hear about the 50% efficacy when I catch up with them at some later date; so many health care interventions are portrayed as both completely effective and absolutely necessary.

I see my role as a primary care physician as a guide and resource for patients, who are bombarded with overly optimistic claims and recommendations by mass media, drug companies and retailers.

Many patients believe that since we can effectively cure some previously deadly diseases, like Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and control others, like AIDS, we probably have even better success rates when dealing with more ordinary diseases.

True, many conditions we see in primary care do go away – sore throats, coughs, sinus infections and rashes – but not necessarily thanks to our treatment, since they usually go away even without a visit to the doctor. No, sadly, a 50% success rate is considered very good for most of the interventions we do in primary care.

The same 50% effect is seen in many clinical scenarios, that are often misrepresented, even by doctors, as much more effective:

Lipitor, mentioned above, and all the other statin drugs, can reduce heart attack risk by at most 50%.

Tight blood pressure control in diabetics only reduces cardiovascular risk by 50%.

Quitting smoking only reduces heart disease risk by 50%. (And, no, these three interventions are not additive; nobody gets a 150% reduction in risk by doing all of them.)

Early detection and treatment of lung cancer can reduce mortality, but only by 50%.

Mammography screening, according to one recent study, reduces death rates from breast cancer by only 50%.

And the list goes on. Patients are encouraged to take shots or pills to protect themselves from bad diseases, but do they know how effective the intervention is, or how long it will last? In the case of shingles shots, nobody actually knows yet.

As if 50% success rates weren’t bad enough, there are other interventions that have an even lower likelihood of being helpful, for example taking antidepressants when you are depressed: 30-40% is the commonly cited success rate here. Yet, how many patients want only the pill and not also the counseling that can bring the success rate to 60%?

That is still a surer bet than having cardiac stenting or coronary bypass surgery in an effort to cut the risk of cardiac death. There is no convincing evidence that either of these common and costly interventions saves lives. They often improve quality of life, but most patients and many doctors believe they are essential, life-saving procedures in most instances.

Something as seemingly straightforward as surgery for a torn meniscus of the knee, if you are old enough to also have some arthritis, is no better than physical therapy in relieving pain and restoring function over a six month period.

Who else, but the primary care provider will have these discussions with patients? I don’t hear the cardiologists explaining the evidence impartially to patients, and how many orthopedists are that reluctant to do surgery? They make their living doing the procedures that patients assume are necessary.

We seem to be caught in two opposing currents. One is the idea of primary care providers directing and coordinating patients’ health care in “Patient-Centered Medical Homes”, helping patients navigate today’s complex health systems. The other current is to give pharmacies, retail clinics and specialists who aren’t trained or experienced in whole-patient care direct access to patients or populations of patients and having primary care doctors only gathering and storing the information after the fact.

I worry about where the fragmentation in the second scenario could take us. Who will help patients see the big picture, and who will support them in making decisions that take their entire health status into account? In a world where 50% success is considered good, there are a lot of judgment calls. And the more you carve up the care of the patient, the more random those judgment calls will be.

50% success rate doesn’t mean a half cure for everyone; it means half the patients get the desired outcome and half don’t. If we think of it that way, it might be clearer what this is all about: It is about knowing the patient, and having the kind of relationship with them that supports and empowers them in choosing between many different fifty-fifty propositions, some of them conflicting and most of them changing very fast.

What a Country Doctor Should Write

It’s been five years since I started this blog. Looking back at what my posts were like in the beginning, I can see that I have gradually found a style of writing that goes deeper and touches on subjects that are more challenging for me.

Over the years I have seen which topics seem to get the most pageviews, and which ones seem to interest fewer readers. I have been flattered by links and re-postings by more famous websites than mine and by primary care and teaching sites.

Generally speaking, postings like “What if Physicians Worked for Free” get the most attention in the short run, but medical topics like “The Art of Measuring Blood Pressure…” have had consistent interest over time.

Clinical vignettes like “Snap Diagnosis” are generally well received but never blockbusters.

From time to time I have posted interesting articles and excerpts from my inconsistent and eclectic reading list on a sister blog, “A Country Doctor Reads“. I didn’t want to put things that were tongue-in-cheek or “newsy” on “A Country Doctor Writes”. Just recently, I created custom tabs that link between the two blogs.

Some older pieces that I have, also very recently, collected under the category “Short Stories” have had relatively little attention, but I feel especially accomplished in having put a few medically related glimpses of life in a form that goes beyond personal essays or blog posts.

As I think about what the rest of my years as a doctor might look like, I also think about what I want to write about and how my voice or style should evolve.

It seems tempting to ride the wave of recognition I have gained with pieces about the time pressures, financial constraints, conflicting demands and administrative burdens of primary care doctors in this country, but I don’t want that to be the main focus of my writing.

I hope to be able to continue adding to the body of work that captures the timelessness and essence of doctoring, because that, more than what is happening today (good or bad) is what anchors me in my profession and calling.

In my practice, I have consciously let go of some of my obsessive tendencies for efficiency, and I have allowed myself to be more and more sensitive to what the situation requires when patients seem to drop a hint that they need to tell me something or when there seems to be a crack in their armor.

Years from now, I imagine people will remember if I helped them get through a difficult time or if I made a difficult diagnosis more than whether I was perfectly punctual.

I also imagine that years from now what I write today about a technicality in the practice of medicine will have less value than something that isn’t sensitive to time, place, party in power or healthcare budget priorities. I am not expecting to be in the history books, but I will confess my deepest hope:

I hope I can write about my life in medicine in a way that inspires some to follow the same path and helps a few doubting younger colleagues keep the faith in their chosen profession. I have seen and practiced medicine on two continents and under several very different systems, and it really isn’t that different if you manage to keep the focus not on the tools you have available, but on the patient.

We are the pilots, not the designers, mechanics or flight controllers. We may not always like the equipment or the traffic situation, but we still have to get our passengers safely to their destination.

I guess this was the first time I wrote about writing, rather than doctoring. I’ll get back on topic next time.

Thanks for listening.

(Midsummer’s Eve, North America 2013)

Quality or Conformity Revisited

In 2009 I wrote a post titled “Quality or Conformity“, where I pointed out that many of the quality measures in primary care have more to do with whether doctors follow guidelines than if they deliver care that helps patients live long and well. There is a tendency to focus quality efforts on measuring what is easy to measure, rather than what matters the most.

That phenomenon is called the Streetlamp Effect, named after the man who was found searching for his car keys not in the dark alley where he lost them, but under the corner streetlight where he could see better.

Last night and tonight I read four articles in The New England Journal of Medicine and JAMA that made me think again about how elusive an ideal quality is in primary care.

The Case Record of the Massachusetts General Hospital for the week of May 23 was a 12-year-old girl with celiac disease, behavioral symptoms and fatigue. Her final diagnosis was Addison’s disease, a deficiency of the body’s natural steroids. The piece mentioned that most sufferers of this condition live with its often-debilitating symptoms for 2-5 years before diagnosis. The girl in this article had been hospitalized several times before the correct diagnosis was made (at MGH, of course!).

The other piece in The New England Journal was about how Fee-For-Service payment was going to go away and be replaced by payment schemes based on relative value units and adherence to clinical guidelines for chronic disease. This piece specifically mentioned that treatment of (acute) illness would have far less value than managing chronic diseases.

I thought of the man who had been to the emergency room twice before I diagnosed him with scabies a few months ago. Doesn’t accurate diagnosis with new presenting symptoms count for anything anymore?

The first article in JAMA was a very broadly written piece about the future of quality measurements under Obamacare. The second article, written by a group of primary care doctors, was titled “A View From the Safety Net”. These doctors described the difficult choices they had to make between doing what mattered most to their underserved minority population or scoring better on quality measures dictated by outside authorities when they didn’t have enough staff or money to do both. The Obamacare article mentioned striving for patient-centered measures, but it remains to be seen how patient-centered we are going to be allowed to practice in the future.

Quality is still in the eye of the beholder. People in Government, insurance and academia prefer easily quantifiable data and still hold on to arbitrary or outdated numeric targets, even when the evidence to support them is controversial or refuted by science. They are often like the man under the streetlight.

Doctors on the frontlines, who live and breathe the complexity of health, disease and patients’ everyday socioeconomic challenges, know that for every clever metric someone can think up to measure quality, there are countless other factors that can render the quality parameters meaningless. What good does it do to prescribe the right medications for someone with chronic illness when the patient can’t afford them or keeps forgetting to take them?

In the same month my original post was published in 2009, for example, the American Diabetes Association revised its blood sugar targets for older diabetics. The evidence has shown that our usual targets were low enough to cause harm to many frail patients, yet doctors in this country are still given poor report cards if they practice with their patients’ safety and the new evidence in mind.

So, what is quality?

Quality is easing suffering and giving hope, not crunching numbers.

Quality is treating each patient in a sensitive, caring and competent manner.

Quality is serving the patient’s best interest with societal good in mind, not serving society with only an eye toward the individual patient.

Quality is having not only systems to promote safety and good practice, but people who care and invest their talents and abilities for the good of the patient.

Quality is diagnosing a rare disease like Addison’s early enough to give an adolescent girl her teenage years before they are gone.

Quality is making the diagnosis of a common disease like scabies in five minutes in a patient who has already cost himself weeks of discomfort and his insurance the dollar value of two emergency room visits and three prescriptions.

Quality is doing what matters to the patient. If we accept, even endorse, patients’ right to decide whether or not to be resuscitated if their hearts should stop, aren’t we then also allowed to listen to our patients and together with them formulate a care plan that they feel comfortable with for their chronic illness without fear of retribution by some Government or insurance reviewer for not following some more or less arbitrary guideline?

Quality is a word that lacks universal meaning. Every dictionary I have looked in has scores of definitions. It is a word people use for their own purposes.

We must be careful about letting others define the standards for our profession. If people with a more financial and less scientific and humanistic viewpoint set all the standards, technicians and computers will replace doctors.

The quality of a church service is, in my opinion, not adequately measured by how freshly painted the murals are, how well matched the choir uniforms are, how well-shaven the minister is or how clear his voice is when he puts his notes aside and speaks from the heart. If the Government were to set quality standards for churches, those things might be major quality indicators.

Fortunately, Church and State are separate in this country; health care and Government are no longer.

Health care, like religion, has a lot of intangibles, and even its substance is the source of many disagreements. I think that just like people go to church for different reasons, they seek health care for enough different reasons that our quality measures need to be very patient-centered, without losing sight of our “substance”, our foundation of science and humanity.

Quality is about addressing both the intangibles and the substance. Most of us know it when we experience it ourselves; the problem is building systems that guarantee it.

What if Physicians Worked for Free?

Today I am going to write about how the US could save up to 10% on its healthcare bill.

The US spends more on health care than any other nation, $8,500 per person per year. Multiply that by 300 million people and try to grasp the vast sum of $2,5 trillion.

A lot of changes are taking place with the intent to save healthcare dollars. So far, many of those changes have involved creating new layers of middlemen, whose paychecks will come out of the same healthcare budget as MRI’s, prescription medicines and physician salaries.

Every so often physician salaries come into focus as a place where money might be saved. Some people even picture physician pay as a major driver of healthcare costs.

Now, I am just a country doctor, and I don’t have an MBA or any financial background. But I used to be pretty good at math, and I’d like to think I still am.

If the 2.5 trillion dollars this country spends on healthcare is paid to or prescribed by our 850,000 physicians, then each doctor controls 3 million dollars from our nation’s healthcare budget.

Of course, physicians aren’t the only providers or prescribers. I don’t have a figure for how much money is controlled by our 100,000 Nurse Practitioners and 70, 000 Physician Assistants. I also don’t know what portion of our 50,000 chiropractors’ work falls inside the traditional healthcare budget, but let me assume each physician on average controls only 2-2.5 million dollars worth of products or services…

Then, if every physician took a $200,000 pay cut, we could reduce our healthcare spending by up to 10%!

This would be a 50% pay cut for many surgeons, and would actually make the average primary care doctor have to pay Uncle Sam for the privilege of working. I suspect most wouldn’t.

Is 10% too much to pay the providers of the intellectual and procedural services that are still necessary for $3,000 MRIs and $200/month prescriptions to be used for the right reasons and produce the right outcomes for patients?

Would a symphony fire the conductor to save less than 10%? And would we still want to hear the music if they did?

Sources:

http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/hexpense.htm

http://www.ahrq.gov/research/findings/factsheets/primary/pcwork2/index.html

http://www.bls.gov/ooh/healthcare/chiropractors.htm

A Samurai Physician’s Teachings

Every now and then the title of a book influences your thinking even before you read the first page.

That was the case for me with Thomas Moore’s “Care of the Soul” and with “Shadow Syndromes” by Ratley and Johnson. The titles of those two books jolted my mind into thinking about the human condition in ways I hadn’t done before and the contents of the books only echoed the thoughts the titles had provoked the instant I saw them.

This time, it wasn’t the title, “Cultivating Chi”, but the subtitle, “A Samurai Physician’s Teachings on the Way of Health“. The book was written by Kaibara Ekiken (1630-1714) in the last year of his life, and is a new translation and review by William Scott Wilson. The original version of the book was called the Yojokun.

The images of a samurai – a self-disciplined warrior, somehow both noble master and devoted servant – juxtaposed with the idea of “physician” were a novel constellation to me. I can’t say I was able to predict exactly what the book contained, but I had an idea, and found the book in many ways inspiring.

The translator, in his foreword, points out the ancient sources of Ekiken’s inspiration during his long life as a physician. Perhaps the most notable of them was “The Yellow Emperor’s Classic on Medicine”, from around 2500 B.C., which Ekiken himself lamented people weren’t reading in the original Chinese in the early 1700’s, but in Japanese translation. One of his favorite quotes was:

“Listen, treating a disease that has already developed, or trying to bring order to disruptions that have already begun, is like digging a well after you’ve become thirsty, or making weapons after the battle is over. Wouldn’t it already be too late?”

Ekiken’s own words, in 1714, really describe Disease Prevention the way we now see it:

“The first principle of the Way of Nurturing Life is avoiding overexposure to things that can damage your body. These can be divided into two categories: inner desires and negative external influences.

Inner desires encompass the desires for food, drink, sex, sleep, and excessive talking as well as the desires of the seven emotions – joy, anger, anxiety, yearning, sorrow, fear and astonishment. (I see in this a reference to archetypal or somatic medicine.)

The negative external influences comprise the four dispositions of Nature: wind, cold, heat and humidity.

If you restrain the inner desires, they will diminish.

If you are aware of the negative external influences and their effects, you can keep them at bay.

Following both of these rules of thumb, you will avoid damaging your health, be free from disease, and be able to maintain and even increase your natural life span.”

On the topic of Restraint, the Yellow Emperor text states:

In the remote past, those who understood the Way followed the patterns of yin and yang, harmonized these with nurturing practices, put limits on their eating and drinking, and did not recklessly overexert themselves. Thus, body and spirit interacted well, they lived out their naturally given years, and only left this world after a hundred years or more.

People these days are not like his. They drink wine as though it were berry juice, make arbitrary what should be constant, get drunk and indulge in sex, deplete their pure essence because of desire, and thus suffer a loss of their fundamental health….Thus they fizzle out after fifty years or so.”

During the Ming dynasty, a prominent physician wrote:

“Premature death due to the hundred diseases is mostly connected to eating and drinking.” 

That quote still carries relevance today.

Interestingly, Ekiken sees medications, herbs, acupuncture and all the available treatments of his time as a last resort because they are unbalanced interventions to counter the imbalance of the body. Almost a hundred years later, Samuel Hahnemann coined the word allopathy for this type of treatment.

Ekiken wrote at length about what distinguishes a mediocre physician from a good one. For example, he describes the good physician as less in a hurry to prescribe medications. One of his many aphorisms seems uncannily relevant to today’s emphasis of guidelines over individualized treatment:

“A good doctor gives medicine in response to the condition of the situation…This is not a matter of adhering to one absolute method. It is rather like a good general who fights his battles well by observing his enemies closely and responding to their changes. His methods are not determined beforehand. He observes the moment and is in accord with what is right.”

Quoting Confucius, he ends his description of a good doctor:

“A good doctor warms up the old and understands the new”.

May all of us remember and respect the wisdom of the 2500 B.C. text, now almost 5000 years old, as it speaks of “avoiding overexposure to things that can damage your body”. It reminds me of all the lectures I have attended on diabetes and heart disease where the speaker devotes exactly one sentence to this topic, and then spends the rest of the time talking about all the interesting drugs we have to counteract the effects of our exposure to harmful or excessive foodstuffs.

A little samurai discipline and restraint could help most of us…


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

Top 25 Doctor Blogs Award

Doctor Blogs

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Mailbox

contact @ acountrydoctorwrites.com
Bookmark and Share
© A Country Doctor Writes, LLC 2008-2022 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given.