The July 6 JAMA bears the above-named two-pager (written by Allen S. Desky MD PhD and Mark O. Baerlocher, MD) in their Commentary section. I’ll save you the effort and summarize: “Almost certainly yes, but it’s an impossible hypothesis to test.” The authors also conclude that we need to develop strategies to deal with this phenomenon.
Which prompts me to insert this quickie:
Seriously, guys, is this the best you can do? They actually provide a footnote for the sentence, “However, the majority of clinical care requires human interaction.” Please.
Film producer Laura Ziskin died yesterday of breast cancer. She’s known for the Spider Man movies and Pretty Woman, and a lot of other films besides. Driving home today, I heard her obituary on NPR, and one bit in particular caught my ear. Ms. Ziskin was speaking before an audience, telling them she was “hopping mad about the state of cancer research,” and that 1500 Americans will die every day of the disease.
I sympathize with her. This woman lost her life to breast cancer and she saw it coming and she was pissed. I would be too. Like everyone else here (I imagine), my life has been shaped by the cancers of those close to me, and I dread it as much as anyone. But her “hopping mad” comment implies an understanding which I think is faulty to the core, and I feel compelled to set the thing right, because getting mad is not going to solve the problem. Nor will throwing more money at cancer research (though I doubt that would hurt).
Back when I taught residents and med students, I used to give a talk about cancer that had one purpose only: to impress upon my audience the hugeness of the problem. I’d like to see if I can do the same thing here, in relatively few words, with what I assume is a medically unsophisticated audience (for the most part). Here goes. Follow my logic . . .
. . . is that I am not free to speak my mind.
For example, I cannot tell a patient, no matter how much he may richly deserve it, that I cannot help him because in my particular specialty, we were not trained to treat assholes.
And when my evangelist patient tells me about an upcoming trip to the Dark Continent’s bush, “where some of them haven’t even heard of God,” I cannot supply the necessary correction: “They’ve undoubtedly heard of God. Several gods as a matter of fact. They simply haven’t heard about your god.”
Is it possible I am finally learning to hold my tongue?
D.
For a non-call week, this has been remarkably wearying.
I think I need to sleep for about 20 hours.
D.
It’s been over five years since I wrote a blog about foreign bodies. That’s remarkable enough (considering how fun* and interesting** and sometimes outright terrifying*** foreign bodies can be), but what I find really surprising is that no one has ever dedicated a blog to foreign bodies. Think of it: doctors around the world could submit photos and stories to the blog’s manager, who would after a year or two write a large format / coffee table book on foreign bodies, make oodles of money, then get his medical license revoked for violating patient confidentiality, and then lose oodles of money when he is sued by umpteen patients whose clinical photos showed up in the book (Damn you, I just know that was MY colonic can of Budweiser you included on page 135!), and then recoup all of his lost wealth and respectability when Quentin Tarantino directs a movie about his travails featuring Johnny Depp as the doctor-turned-coffee-table-book-author.
In med school, a well worn photocopy of an article from the Journal of Gastroenterology made the rounds among us budding surgeons. The article detailed a number of case histories of colonic foreign bodies, but the most memorable one concerned a gay couple who were celebrating the New York Yankees’ victory in the 1978 World Series by putting to good use a baseball signed by Catfish Hunter****. If I remember correctly, the non-incapacitated half of this couple was insistent that the baseball be removed unscathed. (Which brings to mind the apocryphal story of the ER patient with an electric vibrator located just past the reach of his fingers. The surgeon, so the story goes, asked him whether he wanted the vibrator removed, “or do you want me to change the batteries.”)
Most foreign body stories are not as much fun as these, particularly at my end of the body. It’s hard to laugh at a toddler’s misfortune, after all. And betting on the date of a swallowed penny has limited entertainment value.
Not many blogs on foreign body extraction, I’m afraid. Here’s one from rural Nepal, and here’s another from a blog oddly entitled, “Dr Ko Ko Gyi’s Blog /
Autobiography of Dr Abdul Rahman Zafrudin.” Dr. Gyi/Zafrudin has a number of disturbing images on that site, but here’s the money quote:
Rectal foreign bodies are typically inserted and the majority of cases are the result of erotic activity. Typically found objects are vibrators, dildoes, light bulbs, candles, shot glasses, and bottles. Patients may be very embarrassed to disclose the circumstances regarding the foreign body insertion and there may have been multiple attempts at removal. The image shown demonstrates a vibrator in the rectum along with a pair of salad tongs that became lodged after attempts at self-removal.
He also includes a nasal foreign body story from House, and it’s anyone’s guess why he included a fictional story amongst a number of true ones.
The author of the Sermo Blog solicited “most interesting foreign body” stories from a number of physicians. My favorite quote:
Response from a Urologist: “At our hospital recently the general surgeons removed from the stomach a bound and gagged barbie doll that the patient had swallowed.”
All this talk of rectal foreign bodies has made me hungry. Time to make dinner.
D.
* My favorite: beads. The trick is to hook the hole. Close runner-up: any nasal foreign body that can be extracted by tricking the patient into sneezing it out (I have my ways!)
** Most interesting: the piedrito, which I blogged back in 2005.
*** Most terrifying: half of a pigeon skull wedged between the vocal cords of a two-year-old. Terrifying because this easily could have turned into a lethal situation.
**** Details made up by yours truly. Except I’m pretty sure the cause of celebration was, indeed, the Yankees’ victory.
one of those days where nothing is normal.
Got into the office and my medical assistant told me I was assisting my partner that morning, at the hospital. Ran over to the hospital. Changed into scrubs. No partner, nowhere, so I figured I’d been told the wrong thing and he was at the surgicenter, not the hospital.
Drove over to the surgicenter, and he was almost finished. My presence was a fail safe — if he hadn’t been able to do the case the easy way, he needed me there to help him with the hard way. The easy way worked.
So at this point it’s just past 8:45 and my first patient was coming in at 10:30. I called my assistant and asked her to see if she could get the urgent referrals to come in. When I got to the office, she told me no one could come in, so I took the opportunity to go back to the hospital to see a pending consult.
The pending consult was a patient I know, who has something bad, probably the last something bad he’ll ever have. The hospitalist asked me to scope his airway. There wasn’t a whole lot of reason to scope his airway but considering how we surgeons dump work on the hospitalists from time to time, it’s a small enough thing to see their patients when they ask. But this fellow wasn’t interested in me scoping his throat. He wanted to know what difference it would make, and I told him that if he had a bad airway, he might die sooner rather than later. He was unfazed and told me thanks but no thanks.
Back to the office. Saw my few patients, then had the afternoon off. Time enough to get lunch, work out, pick up my son from school, and then take him down to the nearby medical offices for his vaccines. Then we went to the local library which, miraculously, was open. And then we picked up dinner at Popeye’s.
I finished American Gods this evening. As I mentioned before, I enjoyed it far more this time than the first time. Everything about it seemed better. Is that odd, or what?
And it makes me sad, too, because I wish I were writing again. Not that I will ever write as well as Neil Gaiman, but if I’m not writing, then I’ll never write as well as Neil Gaiman. Writing something is sort of a prerequisite to writing well, after all.
D.
On an intellectual level, I’ve been aware of an increased rate of oropharyngeal cancers in nonsmokers in the last ten years or so, but I only really woke up to it after having two such patients fall into my lap within the last several weeks. Seems I can no longer say, “If you’ve never been a big smoker or drinker, you have extremely little chance of getting throat cancer.” I’ll have to modify it to say, “If you’ve never been a big smoker or drinker, and if you’ve never had sex, you have extremely little chance of getting throat cancer.”
Yeah, you heard me. This is the bugger:
That’s the human papillomavirus, or at least it’s a fetchingly colored depiction of HPV. And for today’s public service announcement, the key facts are these:
1. HPV is an important cause of cervical cancer. Apparently, and not surprisingly (since mucosa is mucosa, after all), it’s also associated with many oropharyngeal squamous cell carcinomas.
2. The HPV2 and HPV4 vaccines protect against most of the HPV serotypes causing cervical cancer and genital warts. Safety data is quite favorable:
Serious adverse events and deaths were evaluated in a pooled safety analysis that included 29,953 females aged 10 through 72 years (16,142 received HPV2). Proportions of persons reporting a serious adverse event were similar in vaccine and control groups (5.3% and 5.9%, respectively), as were the types of serious adverse events reported. In the pooled safety analysis, including 12,533 women who received HPV2 and over 10,730 in the control groups, incidence of potential new autoimmune disorders did not differ (0.8% in both groups).
3. HPV-related oropharyngeal cancers are on the rise. Unlike the typical throat cancers, which are associated with heavy alcohol and tobacco use and poor oral hygiene, HPV-related oropharyngeal cancers are associated with having multiple sexual partners. (But all it takes is one bad apple, you know?)
4. It does not seem like such a great stretch to argue that boys as well as girls should receive the HPV vaccine, particularly since HPV is also associated with anal and penile cancers. It’s safe and effective, so why not do it? Seems logical to me, but there are people who take the other side. (For the “pro” side of the vaccinate-boys argument, click here.) As best I can tell, the arguments against vaccinating boys comes down to: it’s too much trouble, it’s too expensive, boys will benefit anyway if enough girls get vaccinated, and HPV-related cancers really aren’t that big of a deal.
5. On that last point: while it is true that the HPV-associated throat cancers are more sensitive to radiation therapy and have a better prognosis than the smoking-and-drinking throat cancers, people can still die from HPV throat cancer.
So I think it boils down to “what is the worth of a life.” Cost effectiveness arguments make a lot more sense when there are two edges to the sword*. For example, should all men above a certain age be tested for PSA, the tumor marker for prostate cancer? It’s a little controversial, and it’s more than the cost of the test that is debated. The issue is whether an elevated PSA leads to unnecessary tests or treatments, all with potential for harm. (The LA Times has a good piece on this issue.)
I don’t see the double-edge to this sword. These are safe, effective vaccines.
I know what I’m recommending to my son.
D.
*In which case the cost, as a matter of public health policy, is still only one small part of the overall debate.
Always cool to rediscover something that I’d learned in med school then promptly forgotten. Not so cool when I learn it the hard way. It seems I’ve developed piriformis syndrome.
Piriformis syndrome is a neuromuscular disorder that occurs when the sciatic nerve is compressed or otherwise irritated by the piriformis muscle causing pain, tingling and numbness in the buttocks and along the path of the sciatic nerve descending down the lower thigh and into the leg.
I try to exercise anywhere from three to five days a week, and generally stick to low impact aerobics such as using the elliptical trainer or fast walking on the treadmill. Last Wednesday, though, I wanted to see what it would feel like to run. So for two bloody minutes, I upped the speed to 5.2 mph. Not even six. I see people twenty years older than me running at 6 — surely I could handle 5.2 for a couple minutes? Apparently not.
What started out as a sore ass got progressively worse. For the last 24 hours I’ve been living on ibuprofen, and the pain was still enough to wake me up. Figuring I had done some major damage to my hip joint, I wormed my way into Urgent Care and begged for help. My doc, a great guy who recently received our organization’s highest clinical honor, diagnosed me in about two minutes. Got a shot of Toradol, a prescription for steroids, and some exercises on stretching, but of course I had to surf the net for more information.
From this website, for example, I learned that I may have had piriformis syndrome for a very long time. I can remember having similar pain as an undergraduate. The chief causes of piriformis syndrome: sitting on your ass all day, exercising only the muscles of forward motion (I biked a lot in college, and nowadays I do the elliptical far more often than I use the adductor/abductor machines), and having weak abdominals. Guilty on all three counts, then and now. This also explains why exercise helps my lower back pain, since when I’m doing it right, I do exercise the abdominals and stretch things out fairly well — both important for piriformis health.
And if I needed any more motivation to keep my piriformis in good shape, here’s Wiki again:
The result of the piriformis muscle spasm can be impingement of not only the sciatic nerve but also the pudendal nerve. The pudendal nerve controls the muscles of the bowels and bladder. Symptoms of pudendal nerve entrapment include tingling and numbness in the groin and saddle areas, and can lead to urinary and fecal incontinence.
I’ll close with a stretch.
D.
You remember Ferret Bueller, right? Big (for a ferret). Bitey. Death to degus. But generally a good little shit.
He wouldn’t eat yesterday morning. This was worrisome, to say the least, since our ferrets inhale their food like little black holes with fur and four clawed feet. They like to act as though I haven’t fed them in weeks, when in fact I feed them twice a day. I was a little worried to find him off his food, but he was still drinking, so I thought I’d give him until evening to see how he fared. When I came home, I put a little food in their dish. Harmonica did the inhale thing and Bueller pleasantly sipped at his water bottle. Once again he seemed fine, just no appetite.
So I volunteered for this “Hippocrates Circle” thing . . . it’s an activity for junior high school kids who are interested in medical careers. They’re going to tour our facility, and there will be demos or stations. In pulmonary, the kids will get to check their peak flows (how fast can you exhale?) In ortho, someone will have to break an arm or something, because they’ll be demonstrating casting. And I’ll be scoping my throat for the greater good.
It’s not the first time I’ve scoped myself for educational purposes, but today I learned something new. Something disturbing. These thirty kids? They’re coming through my station in six groups of five.
“Oh, well,” I said, trying to put the best face on things. “Once I’m numb, I’m numb, so six scopes can’t be that much worse than one.”
One of the other docs at the meeting suggested I volunteer for a Foley catheter demo. “Once you’re numb, you’re numb.” And from there, it wasn’t too far a leap for another doc to suggest that the general surgeons warm up their sigmoidoscopes.
The things I’ll do for kids.
D.