How Doctors Die
Hugh Pickens writes "Dr. Ken Murray, a Clinical Assistant Professor of Family Medicine at USC, writes that doctors don't die like the rest of us. What's unusual about doctors is not how much treatment they get when faced with death themselves, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves because they know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. 'Almost all medical professionals have seen what we call "futile care" being performed on people,' writes Murray. 'What it buys is misery we would not inflict on a terrorist. I cannot count the number of times fellow physicians have told me, in words that vary only slightly, "Promise me if you find me like this that you'll kill me."' Feeding into the problem are unrealistic expectations of what doctors can accomplish. Many people think of CPR as a reliable lifesaver when, in fact, the results are usually poor. If a patient suffers from severe illness, old age, or a terminal disease, the odds of a good outcome from CPR are infinitesimal, while the odds of suffering are overwhelming."
It's traditional to see life as a sacred thing that must be preserved at all costs--to a point. There was a balance. This has been true throughout human history, with the exception that in the past couple hundred years we seem to have collectively forgotten that in order for life to go on something else has to precede it in death. In an era of ever-increasing lifespans, global populations and expectations of one's quality of life, we are engaged in a losing game against the power of exponential arithmetic.
When it's time to go, it's time to go.
...almost completely. There is a point, and we can certainly debate just where that point is, beyond which we are no longer "healing" and are merely prolonging the suffering of our patients. The common layman's expectation is that anything that could be done, should be done, regardless of the likely outcome. Pointing out that Grandma's time has come, so to speak, and that the "right" thing to do is to make her passing as comfortable as possible, is something that western medicine does not do, generally. That needs to change.
a patient suffers from severe illness, old age, or a terminal disease
Had one branch of the family that was real religious. Didn't believe in anything even *resembling* euthanasia. Insisted on keeping my aunt alive, no matter what. It was an ugly, sad end. Bad stuff.
Had another branch that had a much better attitude, IMHO. Had hospice care that was not afraid to push the painkillers well into the dangerous zone, a "do not resuscitate" understanding with the hospital, etc. My cousin's mother died a *much* more noble death.
Can't stop death from coming. And there is a time to fight for life, but also a time to recognize when the fight is over.
SJW: Someone who has run out of real oppression, and has to fake it.
You really should read the article. It isn't bitter at all, and is some serious food for thought. If you've not had a close individual diagnosed with a terminal disease and this isn't applicable, then you're a very lucky person. If you have, the article raises some interesting arguments for how you or your loved ones should approach such news.
It has been two weeks since my father passed away from lung cancer, so I am more sensitive to the topic than normal, but the idea that we should more carefully evaluate how we want to live our remaining days/weeks/months when faced with aggressive, difficult treatment, is one worth thinking about.
It's a little maudlin - it's hard not to be with this topic - but it does bring up something that most people explicitly don't want to deal with. He points out that the people who do explicitly deal with death and dying tend to do things quite differently than 'normal' people. It isn't a scientific discussion, it's a personal, anecdotal essay.
You're perfectly welcome to muddle through life - it is exactly what we all do. But I thought it was a reasonable essay and one that's been covered many times in the past. It is clearly written as a counterpoint to the "do everything, medicine will solve all our problems" view that is quite prevalent in this world. The big problem is it is damned hard to tell people what to expect especially when they are faced with a fatal illness. It's hard to tell someone how hard chemotherapy would be for that individual. It's hard to know how to balance a few months or years of 'additional' living with the downsides of frequent hospitalizations, invasive procedures, dangerous drugs and additional pain.
At least in the US, overtreatment is a huge issue. Anyone but a trained biostatistician is really not in a position to intellectually tease out how effective treatments for most diseases really are (or in reality, how ineffective). So, when you are unable / unwilling to think a problem through, you emote it. Then it gets complicated.
Faster! Faster! Faster would be better!
I am a physician.
I only take my children to another physician when I honestly think something is wrong with them. I argue with my wife constantly over it (I am not a pediatrician), as she wants them on antibiotics when they get the cold, etc. She wants to take them to a "real doctor". (FYI, I'm a cardiologist.)
My son has some medical issues and needs close care, but I stay out of the way of his team, and most of them (possibly all of them) don't even know I'm in the health care field.
I think you'll find my attitude towards my children's care to be fairly representative for my profession. Certainly it mirrors what I see in my colleagues and physician friends.
Well, I'm not entirely sure on that one. First, there are disputes over how to even perform CPR for maximum effectiveness, with some saying that chest compression alone produces better outcomes than a mix of chest and breathing. If the doctors aren't in agreement over what CPR should be done, and different methods are being rolled into a single line item, then the statistics for the outcome really don't mean anything useful. It tells you that *something* is ineffective, but it cannot tell you what that something is.
Second, all doctors either swear to the Hippocratic Oath or implicitly sign up to it by becoming doctors. Since the Oath is witnessed by an independent third party, it is arguably a legally-binding common law "gentleman's agreement"/"verbal contract". Technically, the Oath states that doctors should do no harm and minimizing suffering is technically doing just that. However, very few Western nations interpret things that way. If they did, assisted suicide under well-defined conditions* would be legal. It isn't because they don't. As such, doctors end up in a double bind. Do they do the clinical least harm or the legal least harm? Whichever one they do, they violate the other.
*I am not a fan of assisted suicide, but the only way to bring the ethics and law together is to have some cases where it is legal. IMHO, the Oath should move from common law to contract law and be the defining standard. It's a "floating" standard, since different levels of technology and understanding will alter what least harm is actually achievable, and it is a far more credible benchmark than the religious and political whims of the day.
It's a small world and it smells funny; I'd buy another if it wasn't for the money; Take back what I paid (SoM)
What morons rated this '5 insightful'? Ken Murry is not bitter and angry, he is thoughtful and kind. PCM2 has done the typical thing of morons: he assumes his imagination = reality. Give us all a break and don't post if you don't even read the article.
A bit more than 30 years ago my mother was diagnosed "terminal" cancer. To the point where she was told to go home and die, less than 6 months to live. Instead she signed up for at the time totally experimental neutron radiation therapy (specifically her doctor lied to get her into the program, and when she got to the university running the experiment she was told "if we had known your condition we wouldn't have accepted you")...
Her life was shit for years because of that treatment.
So here we are, 30 years later, and she's still alive. The shit she went through is mostly forgotten, the health issues she lived with from the radiation therapy have mostly been replaced by more typical "60+ year old American" health issues. She has has now spent half her life as a cancer survivor, and while it hasn't been chocolate and unicorns she seems happy to be alive.
That sort of colors my view, I'll admit, but it seems to be a point that gets lost in a lot of this discussion.
Why wait until you're faced with aggressive, difficult treatment? How do you want to live your remaining days now? Your life is already terminal enough to carefully evaluate that.
"it takes more and more coffee just to reach normal alertness"
that would explain why my 95 year old grandfather who has been drinking coffee for 84 years, now drinks seven thousand five hundred and twenty one gallons of coffee each morning.
He started with one cup, one fine morning in 1927. And from there it just took "more and more coffee just to reach normal alertness".
Without it, it's like he's preserved in carbonite.
Thank you for your helpful explanation of the dangers of coffee.
You mean this one:
Taken absolutely literally, it only forbids one kind of abortion. I would interpret this, in light of "I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgement, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous" to mean avoiding any kind of abortion that is likely to be destructive to the patient, but that any kind that is likely to be helpful to be entirely legitimate. The requirement of being for the benefit of the patient is, IMHO, the ruling clause and all others are contextual interpretations of it.
Urological surgery, the Oath states, should be performed by a specialist. I don't see any technical problems with this -- I wouldn't want a GP to be performing it either. Surgery is best left to surgeons, as the Oath says. ("will leave this to be done by men who are practitioners of this work"). General Practitioners are not brain surgeons, heart surgeons, urologists, etc, and should indeed refer the patient to a specialist. (I don't consider surgeons to be doctors in the sense meant by the Oath. The Oath seems to make it clear that it is intended for village doctors making house-calls, or GPs in local practice, with similar but suitably-adjusted Oaths being required of those trained in highly specialized areas of medicine.)
Frankly, the Laws of England would be better served if attempts to revise or delete elements of Common Law were examined in light of the original intents of such law, and if both the Houses of Parliament and the practicing lawyers were familiar with the purpose of Alfred's Book of Dooms, the elimination of Sovereign Immunity in the Great Charter, and the reasoning behind the English Bill of Rights. Sure, nobody would want to revert to Saxon law, but the reasons for why it was what it was have changed surprisingly little. It was a careful balance of revenge, punishment and mercy, a balance a lot of modern laws don't have. We've progressed a lot in theory and can strike a much wiser balance today, but unless you start from the
It's a small world and it smells funny; I'd buy another if it wasn't for the money; Take back what I paid (SoM)