Holding On

Leaves finally give way to gravity, painting the ground with a riot of color, dancing all the way to their deaths.

Still a few stalwarts, going dry, pale and cracked, refuse to let go, suggesting that we just might be able to hold on too till the next wave of leaves, popping out audaciously, full of themselves, ride in on the next season and its green destiny.

Word Pouncing

We pounce on words and somehow red turns blue

We pounce on words and they pile up into books, literature, not literature, mortgages, advertisements, curfews, claims of love, claims of hate, report cards, the price of bananas, instructions for an electric toothbrush, speed limits, a history of Atwater Beach

Which of these words deserves coronation and which the guillotine?

Words, rolling around in the stream of understandings and mis-understandings, which they forge, makes it hard to know 

But isn’t that the game?

Survivors

We are holocaust  survivors

The sun lays a late afternoon table of luminous shapes

Our children read the script and always graduated with honors

Desultory  and panicked walks in the forest became the stuff of legend

School children push and shove to breathe in the ether of bravery which perfumes us  

And yet we are still holocaust survivors, nothing more or less, leaving us in mourning, wondering who we are, and who we might  have been, hoping to find at least a trace of our remains.   

Sex Talk

With the arrival of drugs like Viagra and Cialis, designed to treat erectile dysfunction (read erectile collapse), men stampeded to their doctor's offices.

These medications are oftentimes effective, generally well tolerated and a far cry better than previous ones which tended to be  gothic

(anyone for a round of intra-penile injections?) in nature.  

But not everyone was a candidate for medicines.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        I remember an illustrative case, a mid thirties man, who typically had six orgasms in a night of love making with his partner.  Recently, he fell off to four orgasms and feared he was in decline,perhaps on the cusp of old age.  All the same, his erections were steadfast and they never took a powder.

This man was not a candidate for medications because he did not have, by any stretch of the imagination, erectile dysfunction.  What he really needed was a cold shower and reassurance.

Another grouping of men (thirties and up) seemed to redefine their idea of good sexual health based on the extravagant promises of drug company advertisements.  In this pharmaceutical world there is little tolerance for normal (perhaps the man is sleep deprived or loaded with alcohol) lapses in erections, and climaxing seems to be all but guaranteed. The sense of inadequacy that the ads create in men, who functioned normally most of the time, ise powerful.

Some of these men were then keen to begin medications immediately, hoping I could be persuaded to skip the performance anxiety lecture, along with a recommendation that they purchase a copy of the Kama Sutra as soon as possible.

These individuals seemed to see their sexuality through a narrower lens, where sex was strictly defined as penetration with orgasm.  In their view the major goal was getting the ball, as it were, into the end zone, running up the score whenever possible. After reassurance, many men abandoned their search for medications.

The remaining men were similarly anxious about their sexuality.  They tended to engage more, however, in hugging, kissing, massaging, touching and oral sex, giving them a much broader view of love-making. 

They were told that these expressions were normal and healthy and they were encouraged to collaborate with their partners in creating, with or without penetration, creative forms of climaxing of their own invention.  For a number of these individuals the playfulness and openness of this approach trumped medicines which became a second line of defense.

So while ED drugs are valuable for many men, many others are actually sexually intact and should not be bullied by the drug companies into thinking otherwise.

Medicines have their place; so does a loving embrace.

                       

The Devil Is In The Details

The US Institute of Medicine estimates that somewhere between 44,000 and 98,000 deaths in hospitals annually are due to medical errors Rachel Giese.  Most of these errors are preventable. 


But the modern hospital confronts elements that make it a veritable breeding ground for poor outcomes.  


Poor judgement on the part of doctors is an issue that requires attention but it is not pivotal.  The most pressing problems have much more to do with faulty operation systems, poor communication and the complexity and severity of today's hospital admissions.


For example, rather than being cared for by his/her family doctor, in this era of 'shift medicine', a patient is cared for by a number of hospital based physicians, who devote their time solely to outpatient care.


The personal physician's deeper Insights into the medical and social aspects of their patients' lives are more or less lost in the fracas of acute hospital care.  The communication between the hospital doctors is often done on the run causing changes, distortions and misinterpretations of the original message. Misunderstandings abound.  


Operational breakdowns abound too.  Just consider the number of departments (nursing, nutrition, mental health, speech pathology, social services, pharmacy) and consultants who regularly interact with patients and each other.  These caregivers appear not to have a lingua franca  and, as a result, frequently trip over each other. 


While team care has its merits it oftentimes looks like a bee hive without a queen bee. 


A queen bee is critical in medical care because she assures the kind of order, and ritual, necessary for safe outcomes.


Good care is not sexy, it is methodical.


The airline industry has famously recognized this and has reduced its fatality rate to nearly zero.  They didn't accomplish this with better pilots. They did it with check lists.  


On all flights it is required that the pilot and co-pilot evaluate together a list of safety questions.  It's the same form and the same questions every time.  Are the flaps up ( should they be)?  Is there ice on the wings?  Is the landing gear ready to go? 


The US Institute of Medicine and progressive hospitals have embraced  the checklist idea with many thousands of errors and deaths reduced annually.  The operating room list asks the team to review, among other things, the patient's identity, the nature of the operation, confirming, for example, that it is the correct kidney to be removed, skating clear of an intolerable 'oops'.


Another beneficial list deals with the placement of central venous lines, a major source of hospital infection, morbidity and deaths.  When they are placed willy nilly, going on instinct, based mostly on personal experience (often limited), errors soar.  Following the proven and battle tested lists technique can bring the error and complication rate to near zero. 


It seems inevitable that many more lists will be brought into hospitals and clinics.  Ones to eliminate errors in medication dosing at discharge are especially needed.


Doctors generally take a dim view of lists, at first blush, regarding them as an assault on their clinical hegemony.  Most are converted, however, by superior outcomes and a realization that clinical judgement remains an indispensable element of medical practice.


But clinical judgement will increasingly be sharing the spotlight with computers in what should be a promising relationship. 


Airlines have once again led the way, demonstrating that aircraft facing dire circumstances are sometimes more likely to escape disaster when following the dictates of the inflight computers rather than the most experienced pilots.


How could this be?    


The pilot may be sleepy, or hungover, or depressed.  The computer is not.  The pilot may be seasoned but unable to match the computer's storehouse of information dealing with successful or failed maneuvers in historically similar circumstances.


Going on automatic pilot then, checking the details and following repetitious patient care plans on the medical wards and operating rooms may not be scintillating, but doing so adds greatly to safety, reducing  both errors and mortality.  And not to worry, the importance of clinical judgement, wisdom and compassion will remain the most valuable coins of the realm.


So looking for a hospital?  If they have central line and operating room lists they are probably committed to safety and deserve your confidence as the days of do it my way, swashbuckling medicine are increasingly numbered.


In short, the devil remains in the details.

  

On Retirement

When it was announced that  I was retiring from medical practice (almost a year ago), well wishers came to congratulate me.  I thoroughly appreciated the good wishes, but didn't fully understand the congratulations part.

I was confused, thinking congratulations were generally reserved for individual feats such as winning the clinic hot dog eating contest or, say, reaching twenty years of sobriety, an act of courage.

Retirement didn't strike me as a feat but an inevitability, a kind of door closing.  So why all the back slapping?

In time,  I began to understand.  The congratulations were for going the distance,  for coming out of medical practice largely intact with an arsenal of cherished patients, colleagues and friends.

Good wishes were almost always followed by the same three questions:  what will you do with your time, where will you live and what travel plans did you have?   

When I smart-assly (I am one) responded that we had neither exciting travel plans nor any intention of moving, the predictable response was a mixture of sympathy and disappointment.

My standard response to the first question was that I planned to write a blog, take college courses and just knock around.  Nearly everyone seemed pleased and supportive until I got to the knocking around part, when smiles went missing, replaced by looks of incredulity and worry.   Lectures on the perils of inactivity and the rewards of a bulging calendar were numerous and mostly out of the same play book, leading me to want  to dive, head first, into the first available couch.


The message was clear - you are not living in an age of relaxation (notwithstanding the stampede of commercials for languorous cruises), you are  part of an age of competition and a technological culture of rapid fire updates, in which you spend considerably more time loading your musical files than listening to them. 


While the lectures and questions were indeed well intentioned they were so repetitive and predictable that I decided it was time for me to orchestrate a game changer.


So, resorting to fiction and whimsy, I emerged as Special Agent Blogspeak.

My shtick was to tell questioners, who wondered what I would do in retirement,  that  I was being heavily recruited by the FBI for a senior management position.  To my utter astonishment more than a few people seemed to believe it  possible that the FBI might want my services.  I was flattered and unrepentant.


Now well into my retirement, the special agent ruse  has come back to haunt me. The problem arises out of my college classes where  I have had almost no success in connecting with my classmates.  For example, no one has invited me to the Thursday night bar hopping nor was  I  invited on any of the spring break trips.  No one talks to me during class breaks.


My classmates apparently don't trust me, believing,  I suspect,  that I  must be an undercover agent for the Drug, Tobacco and Alcohol Bureau.  Why else, they might reason, would a gray haired, senior citizen come back to the classroom other than to snoop and snitch?


Determined to be accepted, I have thought about getting a tattoo, which just might win me some trust.  I'm told by experts that a neck location billboards best.  The inscription could be decisive.  For now, a catchy and convincing one might be 'anarchy now and forever'. 


If this works, I can confidently say my retirement is going well.  Among other things, I take walks, plunder the library for books, have hot chocolate dates with friends and have successfully deflected suggestions by family and friends that I get a personal trainer.

Too Good To Be True

Cliches get a bad rap for being worn out and unserviceable. Upon reflection, however, they are oftentimes brimming with common sense and wisdom. For example,"If it seems too good to be true, it probably is."


This cliche came to mind recently when I was reading an article published in The Lancet, a prestigious English medical journal, which suggested that even patients at low risk for cardiovascular disease would benefit from taking statins (a class of cholesterol lowering medicines), resulting in lives saved, and a significant reduction in heart attacks and strokes. 


Until this report, a risk of 20% or higher, defined by a standard measuring device, was the point at which statins, with ringing endorsements from the cognoscenti, were recommended. 


Now, the Lancet research suggests that anyone with a risk of 10% or greater is likely to benefit too.


What the authors of the paper are telling us is that individuals previously thought to be low risk are now thought to be candidates for statins.


With a wave of the wand, the total number of high risk, vulnerable individuals greatly increases, making it appear that cardiovascular disease is more rampant than ever.


Enter the treat everyone, 'put it in the water' school, trumpeting a message that thrives on the simple (and misguided) notion that we are all the same and benefit from the same management and treatments. 


Not too many years ago, followers of this same 'school' informed us that all women on estrogens needed to be on progesterones too. That idea turned out to be categorically false and based on flawed research.


They also issued warnings of late about the dangers of vitamin D deficiency, which they unassailably believed to be a big factor in everything from diabetes to depression to cancer to multiple sclerosis. As a result, no visit to the doctor was complete without a prescription for vitamin D.  Game on.


Enthusiasm for vitamin D supplementation,this latest edition of the fountain of youth, turned out to be uncontainable once the genie was let out of the bottle. Not surprisingly, the lower limits of normal have progressively decreased, drawing more and more people into the vitamin deficient category. 


And thanks to the idea that you can't get too much of a good thing dosages began to rise steadily.


As it turns out, the entire vitamin D epoch was the result of belief masquerading as fact, overlooking a fundamental quality of biology - its variability.  


Variability is the coin of the realm, promoting strength and sustainability in both plants and animals.


For example it's preferable that a garden have multiple strains of plants since a single strain would be much more vulnerable to blight, mutations and even extinction. That's why nature abhors sameness.


Humans are vulnerable to sameness too.  What happens, for example, if an unexpected, and severe, toxicity to, say, statins develops among a population where the drug is unnecessarily used by  large numbers of people? 


So when experts joke about placing a drug (not fluorides)in the drinking water, you can
be pretty sure that canonization of the treatment along with a pharmaceutical jihad are afoot,  unwisely exhorting everyone to dance to the same tune.


It is almost never the case (with the exception of toothbrushing) that everyone should do the same thing.


When a single approach is universally promoted, know that the idea defies common sense and the variability of nature.


Above all, dust off and brandish that trusty cliche - if something appears too good to be true, it probably is.