Friday, June 28, 2019

Undiagnosed malpractice

A conflation of events prompted me to write this blog today, though it's not among my standard topics..

I'm in the middle of the Heath brothers' book Decisive. On pp. 104-107, they bring up the problem of a doctor who doesn't really listen to his patient but quickly diagnoses probably causes for what afflicts him. In one case, the patient was even put through a battery of tests, as well as a regimen of medications, for what he had identified as dizziness. It took a visit with a doctor who not just asks the right questions but notes the patient's answer to realize that he meant a kind of mental or emotional confusion due to feeling lost after his wife's death rather than physical ailment.

Unfortunately, such misdiagnosis is fairly common. Doctors are very likely to chalk up complaints to what they've learned is the major cause.

 In the case described in the book, this led to unnecessary tests and useless treatments, which are a drain on resources and physically taxing. But in other cases, doctors claim nothing is really wrong with the patient. One of my online connections shared this clip from the Golden Girls series today:

I think I may have seen it before, but it particularly resonated with me today in light of the book's revelation  and with my own experience of real harm caused by misplaced confidence in a doctor's diagnosis.  In Dorothy's case, she wants the doctor to know that his dismissal of her signs of illness as the standard effects of aging caused her great emotional pain. Even without finding a cure for her condition, knowing that  she wasn't simply losing her energy as a result of growing older was a comfort to her.

This really hits home for me now because a year ago, my mother had the same problem. At the age of 87 she underwent hernia surgery because she was told that would rectify her condition that was causing her pain. The surgeon didn't use the techniques for operations today in which incisions are minimized but cut her straight down the abdomen with a single, very long cut. He considered the surgery a great success and told her he wrote it up for a journal. But she continued to be in pain that just grew worse, and she revisited the hospital a few times after the surgery.

Each time she spoke with her surgeon, he dismissed her complaints, saying recovery takes a while and suggesting she speak with a psychologist about her feelings. He said it so confidently that one of my siblings who accompanied her on her visits believed it absolutely. That belief persisted even when she got the diagnosis of the real cause of her persistent pain - pancreatic cancer.

It took a while to get that diagnosis, and at that point it was quite advanced and not at all treatable  (though some in the family remained in denial all the way until the just three days before her death). Given her age and condition, it is unlikely that her life could have been prolonged even with an earlier correct diagnosis, but that's not the full problem that results from I call undiagnosed malpractice. 

The problem is that people who are in real pain cannot get the relief they need -- both in terms of medications that could alleviate the physical effects and in terms of the psychological relief of being understood rather than dismissed.

The refusal to see what the real cause was also caused problems in the family, as some member insisted on clinging to the belief that the cancer could be overcome when it could not. And that brings me to another form of malpractice from doctors. 

In their insistence on clinging to false hope, some members kept shopping around for those who would tell them what they wanted to hear. My mother was pulled out of the hospital that had diagnosed her correctly because they had brought up the possibility of hospice for palliative care.

The next hospital's doctors also could offer no hope because they were honest. So when my mother was in the facility for rehab, she got taken out to meet with another doctor who made it a point of policy to always extend hope, even offering some form of chemo with the idea that it could have the placebo effect even when it could not possibly cure the condition. 

This was a complete disaster because even he could not admit her to treatment but would not say so outright, claiming that she just had to get her strength up and want it. That was absolute poppycock that was insulting to the patient as well as her family.

Of course, she was growing weaker each day and being in a facility in which there was no great expertise on the kind of pain management she needed and where medicines and food were continually administered orally resulted in her being unable to sleep, in constant pain or nauseous and delirious, and, ultimately, contracting pneumonia. She returned to the hospital that could not do much for her and recommended she be moved to a hospice. 

She moved there on a Friday and only lived until Sunday and was barely conscious during that time. Had the doctor not offered false hope, she could have entered palliative care sooner, enjoying a more pain-free last few weeks with family that would not have been as restricted from visiting as they were at the hospital.


Thursday, June 6, 2019

A grand vision of Victorian architecture and engineering

Let me tell you about the very rich,” F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in his short story, The Rich Boy.”  “They are different from you and me.”

Lockwood-Mathews Mansion Museum entrance. It leads into what was originally the kitchen. 

Those of us who are not rich and wonder at just how different their lives were than our own, can catch glimpses of it in tours of elaborate mansions that were once the homes of the wealthy elite. Certainly, that’s a big draw for tourists to Newport, Rhode Island. It was the place to summer in for the super rich and fashionable during the Gilded Age. But before there was one area designated by fashionable society, the rich may have chosen any area, and one man chose his own birthplace for the most well-appointed summer home ever built in the United States at the time. 

                       Interior view of conservatory (photo by Ariella Brown)




    Exterior view of conservatory (photo by Ariella Brown)

Grand plans

LeGrande Lockwood, one of only a handful of millionaires in the country at the start of the Civil War, and the first millionaire native of Norwalk, Connecticut, opted for his birthplace as the neighborhood in which he would build his summer home. It still stands there, though, not quite in its full glory, as a registered historic landmark called the Lockwood-Mathews Mansion Museum.
The interior can be seen through a docent-led tour, which is limited to the first floor during the colder months due to the difficulty of heating the entire structure. The tour reveals interesting facets of the history of the house and its occupants, as well as details of its construction and design.
You can experience a kind of virtual mini-tour through this video:



The house’s appearance was largely inspired by the French chateaus that Lockwood had seen and admired on his trips to Europe to raise funds for the American Civil War. In fact, the mansion is considered one of the earliest examples of French Empire Style architecture in the United States.
Detail of the ceiling and French wallpaper. a roll
was found in  the house, which enabled
reproductions and restoration and
 restoration.

While the architectural style was rooted in tradition, the features and comforts utilized the very latest in technology for the times. This house was equipped things you may expect from that time period, like gas lighting, plumbing that allows for both hot and cold water, flush toilets, and central heating powered by coal. But it also includes some things you may not have anticipated.
Even when electricity was not set up for lighting, it was used for a burglar alarm. Most surprisingly -- and, possibly, the most important feature for a summer house -- this house had central air-conditioning, though it didn’t run on electricity.

The Lockwood-Mathews Mansion  Museum is set to resume tours in April. As of now, masks are required, though it does graciously offer to provide a disposable one for visitors who did not bring one that complies with its standard. See lockwoodmathewsmansion.com/your-visit/

Related : Have desk, will travel