Connections Between Psychiatry, Artificiality and Blues Music?

I heard a song on the KCCK Big Mo Blues Show that I first heard in June of 2025. The song is “Artificial” by Walter Trout.

At first blush, I agree with what I think is the point of the song, which is basically a protest against artificiality which could manifest in a range of ways from superficiality and dishonesty in communications, attitudes, style of clothing, relationships, and all the way to Artificial Intelligence (AI).

The other connection I make is to the artist himself. Walter Trout developed Hepatitis C (eventually leading to liver transplant) according to a Wikipedia article which connected his lifestyle to contracting the disease. In my role as a consultation-liaison psychiatrist, I saw many patients with Hepatitis C who were referred to psychiatry from gastroenterology.

I was the main psychiatrist who evaluated them for treatment with Interferon-alpha. At the time it was the only treatment for Hepatitis C and was frequently associated with many side effects including depression. I was also one of the psychiatrists consulted as part of liver transplant evaluations.

Trout got very sick from Hepatitis C and made a remarkable (even miraculous) recovery after his liver transplant. Interferon is no longer used to treat Hepatitis C. It has been replaced by direct-acting antiviral (DAA) agents. They’re much better-tolerated and more effective.

The other aspect relevant to Trout’s song is ironic. The newest scientific literature supports the idea that AI can be helpful for diagnosing Hepatitis C, predicting its progression and response to treatment.

That doesn’t mean I’m completely sold on AI.

Aside from that, there’s interesting research suggesting that there may be a link between schizophrenia and bipolar disorder and Hepatitis C infection (which could be hiding deep in the brain’s choroid plexus lining the cerebral ventricles). In other words, some people might have mental illness because of the liver disease itself.

If you think about the dictionary definition of the word “artificial,” you can hardly dismiss this kind of research as insincere.

Exercise to Relieve Depression?

I’m sure you’ve seen the recently published articles on the web encouraging people to try exercising to treat depression. The articles rely on a new systematic review by the Cochrane Database, which you need to carefully interpret—not necessarily the whole paper; you could just skip to the bottom line in the Authors’ Conclusions:

“Authors’ conclusions: Exercise may be moderately more effective than a control intervention for reducing symptoms of depression. Exercise appears to be no more or less effective than psychological or pharmacological treatments, though this conclusion is based on a few small trials. Long-term follow-up was rare. The addition of 35 RCTs (at least 2526 participants) to this update has had very little effect on the estimate of the benefit of exercise on symptoms of depression. If further research is to take place, it should focus on improving trial quality, assessing which characteristics of exercise are effective for different people, and exploring health equity.”

Clegg AJ, Hill JE, Mullin DS, Harris C, Smith CJ, Lightbody CE, Dwan K, Cooney GM, Mead GE, Watkins CL. Exercise for depression. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2026 Jan 8;1(1):CD004366. doi: 10.1002/14651858.CD004366.pub7. PMID: 41500513; PMCID: PMC12779368.

As usual, though, several science news web sites talk it up as though it were a big deal. They usually do that at the top and then gradually toward the end of the story they slowly start to confess the truth about the limitations of the review.

I think this type of story could be called filler. It’s content that doesn’t really tell you anything new or earthshaking and most of the time it’s just to fill space left over from the bigger stories.

It’s almost like snake oil. Initially it sounds really good but you know the old saying: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably isn’t true.

This reminds me of my early career as an assistant professor of psychiatry at The University of Iowa. My superiors thought it was a great idea for me to give a major presentation (and it might have even been an Internal Medicine Grand Rounds) about adjustment disorders. I admit I was a new guy and somebody had to talk about something that non-psychiatrists might misdiagnose as a major mood or anxiety disorder.

There’s really not a whole lot to say about how to treat adjustment disorders, but it’s important to distinguish them from other major mood and anxiety disorders. That’s not to say adjustment disorders are unimportant. They can cause considerable distress and even some impairment. By and large, clinicians don’t often recommend treating adjustment disorders with medication, although there are exceptions. The diagnostic criteria are pretty clear. Psychotherapy is often the preferred intervention.

On the other hand, exercise could be one way to address the discomfort of some of those who struggle with adjustment disorders.

Glue Myself to My Biography

There’s a reason for why I so often tell Dad jokes. In keeping with my post from yesterday about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr’s biographies:

I glued myself to my autobiography. You may not believe it, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

We’ve ordered a couple of biographies about Dr. King. One of them is his autobiography and the other is Jonathan Eig’s book, “King: A Life.”

I’m getting to be too old to write my own autobiography—guess it’ll have to be done by autopen. Sorry about that one (no I’m not).

I’m a psychiatrist so I know when I’m using humor as a defense mechanism. A lot of good that does.

I’ve never seriously considered writing my autobiography. I could have it tattooed on my back—it would be my backstory.

Seriously—no, I guess that’s impossible. On the other hand, every year about MLK Day, I think about the blog I wrote that the Iowa City Press Citizen published in 2015 on January 19th. It’s becoming almost something like a tradition. I think I need to repost it annually around this time. The title is “Remembering our calling: MLK Day 2015.” 

“Faith is taking the first step, even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

That quote is interesting because Jonathan Eig’s biography of MLK can be said to reveal more of the staircase, so to speak, at least from the standpoint of his flaws as well as his strengths. But I stray from the tradition:

As the 2015 Martin Luther King Jr. Day approached, I wondered: What’s the best way for the average person to contribute to lifting this nation to a higher destiny? What’s my role and how do I respond to that call?

I find myself reflecting more about my role as a teacher to our residents and medical students. I wonder every day how I can improve as a role model and, at the same time, let trainees practice both what I preach and listen to their own inner calling. After all, they are the next generation of doctors.

But for now, they are under my tutelage. What do I hope for them?

I hope medicine doesn’t destroy itself with empty and dishonest calls for “competence” and “quality,” when excellence is called for.

I hope that when they are on call, they’ll mindfully acknowledge their fatigue and frustration…and sit down when they go and listen to the patient.

I hope they listen inwardly as well, and learn to know the difference between a call for action, and a cautionary whisper to wait and see.

I hope they won’t be paralyzed by doubt when their patients are not able to speak for themselves, and that they’ll call the families who have a stake in whatever doctors do for their loved ones.

And most of all I hope leaders in medicine and psychiatry remember that we chose medicine because we thought it was a calling. Let’s try to keep it that way.

You know, I’m on call at the hospital today and I tried to give my trainees the day off. They came in anyway.

I used to joke that they would erect a playdoh statue of me in the Quad (Quadrangle Hall was there) on the University of Iowa campus someday. Unfortunately, the Quad was demolished in 2016, so I guess I can’t put that in my autobiography.

Since I retired in 2020, I keep meaning to write my memoirs, but I never get around to it. I guess that makes it my oughta biography.

Kudos to Dr. George Dawson on Today’s Blog Post!

I want to give a shout-out to Dr. George Dawson on his post today, “Enthusiasm is a plus…” It’s right on the mark.

Having a zest for medicine is the reason why many physicians undertook the rigorous training in medical school, residency, and beyond. A sense of humor is evident in George’s essay—and he doesn’t need to be comedian.

His essay reminded me of the many trainees who took their rotation through the psychiatry consultation service when I was running it (or tried to, anyway!). Many deserve a shout out as well for not only working hard on the service but teaching as well. I prevailed on them to make a short presentation during the rotation. I called it the Dirty Dozen.

They picked a topic often about an interesting consultation case we had seen and put together a talk with a dozen slides. They gave a Dirty Dozen called: “Neurology and Psychiatry: Divided or United?” It included some of Dr. Ron Pies ideas on a subtopic of whether psychiatry and neurology can ever be combined as a discipline (three diagrams of his are in the slides). You can also see a sense of humor, especially in the first slide.

Note: Because I couldn’t locate all of the trainees to get their permission to leave their names on the title slide, I chose to identify them as “Trainees.” I’m still very proud of all of them.

Slides from trainees on Neurology and Psychiatry: Divided or United? from UIHC Psychiatry Consultation Service, 2017. Figures included from Dr. Pies’ article in Psychiatric Times (see below):

Citations:

Arzy, S. Danziger, S. (2014).. “The Science of Neuropsychiatry: Past, Present, and Future.” The Journal of neuropsychiatry and clinical neurosciences 26.4 2014): 392-395.  

Daly, R. Pies, R. (2010). Should Psychiatry and Neurology Merge as a Single Discipline? Psychiatric Times.

Fitzgerald, M. (2015). Do psychiatry and neurology need a close partnership or a merger? BJPsych Bulletin, 39(3), 105–107.

Pies, R. (2005). Why psychiatry and neurology cannot simply merge. J Neuropsychiatry Clin Neurosci; 17: 304-309.

Schildkrout, B., Frankel, M. (2016). Neuropsychiatry: Toward Solving the Mysteries That Animate Psychiatry. Psychiatric Times.

Price, BH., Adams RD., Coyle, JT. (2000). Neurology and psychiatry, closing the great divide. Neurology January 11, 2000 vol. 54 no. 18         

Ronald W. Pies, M., & Robert Daly, M. (2026, January 5). Should psychiatry and neurology merge as a single discipline?. Psychiatric Times. https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/view/should-psychiatry-and-neurology-merge-single-discipline?

Shoveling Through Retirement Thoughts

I was just musing on Philip Rivers. You know about him. I blogged recently about his coming out of retirement to play quarterback for the Indianapolis Colts. I guess you already know this, but he retired again.

Unlike Philip Rivers, I’ve not even considered coming out of retirement since I left my position at The University of Iowa Health Care (UIHC) over 5 years ago. I never looked back.

But that doesn’t mean I never think about looking back. I look back a lot and that’s mostly because I’m an old guy. I was a consulting psychiatrist in the general hospital.

Anyway, occasionally I search my name on the web and laugh at what comes up. I never went to Baylor College of Medicine, much less graduated from there.

I did a few things when I was a doctor. Not all of them were about work, but most of them were.

Those who know me know that I always hated Maintenance of Certification (MOC). I checked the American Board of Psychiatry & Neurology website and my MOC contribution to continuing education is still there. It’s a clinical module on Delirium, which a lot of doctors and other health care practitioners see every day in the hospital. Dr. Emily Morse worked on it as well. She’s still working at UIHC.

I co-edited a book about consultation-liaison psychiatry with my former chair of the Psychiatry Dept, Dr. Robert G. Robinson, may he rest in peace. It’s “Psychosomatic Medicine: An Introduction to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry.” You can buy it on Amazon—please.

I wrote a case report on catatonia caused by withdrawal from lorazepam (a benzodiazepine), and it’s still available. It was first published in Annals of Psychiatry.

But one of the things I’m proudest of doing was writing a short article for the University of Iowa Library for Open Access Week.

In it, I tell a short anecdote about my lofty (OK, a better word is “greedy”) thoughts about how much money I could make shoveling snow. I was just a kid and I never made it outside to shovel anybody’s walk because I was too busy calculating my income. I wrote that way back when I had another blog, The Practical Psychosomaticist. The photo of me shows my Leonard Tow Humanism in Medicine pin fixed to my lapel—another thing I’m proud of. By the way “Tow” rhymes with “Wow.”

Libraries have always been my one of my favorite places to hang out. Anyway, I’ve got more time to do things like hang out in general. I think Philip Rivers will adjust.

Thoughts on Comebacks

I watched the first half of the Colts vs 49ers game last night and I thought Philip Rivers didn’t look half bad for a 44-year-old guy who’s been out of the game for five years. Did you know he has 10 kids? OK, now that I’ve got that out of my system and that would be, what—the 44th time you’ve heard that since he took the field?

So what the Colts lost? His big family was up in the stands going crazy, cheering him on.

I read an article this morning which had Steve Young saying he could make a comeback at his age—which is 64. I couldn’t believe it. The same story mentions that George Blanda played for the Oakland Raiders when he was 48 back in 1975.

It got me wondering whether I could make a comeback as a general hospital consulting psychiatrist. Could I gallop up 6-8 floors of University of Iowa Health Care? You bet your bottom dollar—I couldn’t.

It’s hard to retire. Every once in a while, I miss hiking up and down the hospital with my camp stool, deftly swinging it around and sitting with the patients and families, telling medical students and residents all kinds of lies (I mean “wise old adages and pearls of clinical wisdom”).

I get a kick out of just wondering what it would be like. I get a vision of myself with a big, golden glowing aura of greatness around my head—until I come to my senses. Hey, nobody’s going to pay me a quarter million dollars to run the consult service for the few months I’d be able to limp around the hospital, falling off my camp stool when my legs go numb or the chair breaks.

It’s not like I can just throw a football like it’s nothing after 5 years. I’d have to prove I still have enough clinical smarts to figure out how to introduce myself (Hi! I’m Philip Rivers and you need to go long!”).

The Maintenance of Certification Circus is still a thing and it’s worse. I’m not saying doctors don’t undertake the arduous task of essentially retraining to be what they once were—because that’s not good enough anymore.

Last night, the camera caught Phil more than once being just as hard on himself as he was with other members of the team who weren’t in the right spot at the right time. Most physicians are perfectionists and if you’ve been out of the game for a while and you try to squeeze back in, you could wind up mumbling to yourself, “They don’t make footballs like they used to!”

I didn’t stay up for the second half of football game. It wasn’t because of anything Philip did or didn’t do on the field.

I just can’t stay up that late nowadays.

Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome in the News Lately

I’ve seen a few articles about Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) and because my funny bone is sensitive to provocative titles, I first read the one with the title that starts off with “I still partly think this is bullshit…” My reference list resulting from a quick search is below.

Of course, I don’t think CHS is “bullshit” (quote from an emergency room patient in the Collins et al paper). I agree it’s hard to diagnose and the news media tends to sensationalize it by promoting popular terminology like “scromiting,” which my spell checker doesn’t recognize. This is a vogue portmanteau word combining screaming and vomiting. It makes me wonder why someone didn’t try harder to come up with a portmanteau that might be more descriptive of the complex triad of vomiting, belly aches, hot baths, and screaming. Why not barfinbawlinbellyachinbathingbadness?

But it’s not funny and attempts to attach funny words like scromiting to the condition by the press (or whoever) is misguided.

I found one systematic review and treatment algorithm (Hsu et al) written to guide consultation-liaison psychiatrists who are likely to get called when CHS patients are admitted to emergency departments. However, I think the place to start would be the StatPearls review by Cue et al. One thing I found out from that paper is that the interesting ACCENT study ((Achieving Cannabis Cessation: Evaluating N-Acetylcysteine Treatment) the authors cite does not yet have results available, although it was started way back in 2014.

Just a couple of comments about the treatment algorithm by Hsu et al: haloperidol can cause dystonic reactions and akathisia as well as cardiac conduction problems like QTc prolongation and more. One episode of neck dystonia or akathisia or both can lead to mistrust of physicians who administer the causative agents, especially if there were no explanations of side effects as well as potential benefits. Benzodiazepines, while they may work, may also lead to some patients with substance use disorders becoming attached to them. Less commonly, patients with somatoform, factitious, or eating disorders will complicate the diagnostic picture.

Reference List:

Alexandra B. Collins, Francesca L. Beaudoin, Jane Metrik, Rachel S. Wightman,

“I still partly think this is bullshit”: A qualitative analysis of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome perceptions among people with chronic cannabis use and cyclic vomiting,

Drug and Alcohol Dependence,

Volume 246,

2023,

109853,

ISSN 0376-8716,

(https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0376871623000911)

Abstract: Background

Cannabis is the most widely used psychoactive substance in the United States (US), with reported use patterns increasing among adults in recent years. Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome (CHS) has been one concern related to increased cannabis use patterns. US emergency departments have reported an increase of CHS cases over the last decade, yet little is known about CHS. This study explores the experiences of people with chronic cannabis use and cyclic vomiting and their perceptions of CHS.

Methods

Semi-structured interviews were conducted with 24 people recruited from a prospective cohort of patients presenting to Rhode Island emergency departments with symptomatic cyclic vomiting and chronic cannabis use. Data were analyzed thematically using NVivo.

Findings

Participants characterized their cyclic vomiting as related to food and alcohol consumption patterns, stress, and existing gastrointestinal issues. Despite recurrent episodes of cyclic vomiting, nausea, and abdominal pain, many participants remained uncertain whether their symptoms were driven by cannabis. Many participants relied on at-home research to assess their symptoms and seek out management approaches. Clinical treatment recommendations focused on cannabis cessation. However, most participants felt clinical recommendations failed to consider the complexity and challenge of stopping cannabis use given the chronicity of use and therapeutic benefits some perceived cannabis to have.

Conclusions

Although cannabis cessation is the only reported CHS cure to date, additional clinical and non-clinical treatment approaches are needed to better support people with chronic cannabis use and cyclic vomiting to meet their ongoing needs.

Keywords: Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome; Cyclic vomiting; Cannabis use; Qualitative

Cue L, Chu F, Cascella M. Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome. [Updated 2023 Jul 3]. In: StatPearls [Internet]. Treasure Island (FL): StatPearls Publishing; 2025 Jan-. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK549915/

Jennifer Hsu, Saurabh Kashyap, Cheryl Hurd, Lauren McCormack, Zachary Herrmann, Ann C. Schwartz, Joshua Jackson, Dustin DeMoss,

Treatment of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome: A systematic review and treatment algorithm for consultation-liaison psychiatrists,

General Hospital Psychiatry,

Volume 97,

2025,

Pages 185-191,

ISSN 0163-8343,

(https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0163834325002038)

Abstract: Background

Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) is a cyclical vomiting syndrome associated with chronic cannabis use and is often resistant to anti-emetics. Despite increasing incidence of suspected CHS, literature regarding its treatment is limited, and there are no established treatment guidelines.

Objectives

With the goal of establishing treatment guidelines for consultation-liaison (C-L) psychiatrists managing CHS, the authors systematically reviewed existing literature for pharmacologic treatment strategies using Preferred Reporting Items for Systematic reviews and Meta-Analyses (PRISMA) guidelines. With the results of the review, the authors propose a treatment algorithm for CHS.

Methods

We searched PubMed, PyschINFO & PsychARTICLES, Embase, and Web of Science from inception to July 2021 to identify literature describing treatment of CHS. We included cases of CHS where patient-level data describing the treatment of CHS was available. Pharmacologic treatments were considered beneficial if the patient’s nausea, hyperemesis, and urge to take hot showers resolved. Non-independent review of exclusion criteria assisted in reducing individual bias of the literature.

Results

The authors identified 34 eligible articles, consisting of 63 individual cases. Among these articles and cases, capsaicin cream, antipsychotics, and benzodiazepines were reported to improve CHS more effectively than other, more frequently used anti-emetics, such as promethazine, ondansetron, and metoclopramide.

Conclusion

An examination of treatment strategies for CHS can allow for more effective care while providing a foundation for further research in treatment. This proposed algorithm is designed to aid in establishing treatment strategies for C-L psychiatrists who assist with managing CHS for patients in general medical settings. The goal of this research is to establish evidence-based treatment guidelines for C-L psychiatrists who are managing patients with CHS in general medical settings. Recognizing the limitations of this algorithm being based on case reports adds to the necessity of further research in this area.

Registration

PROSPERO (https://www.crd.york.ac.uk/PROSPERO/view/CRD42021254888) registration number CRD42021254888.

Keywords: Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome; Treatment strategies; Systematic review; Pharmacologic treatment

Loganathan, P.; Gajendran, M.; Goyal, H. A Comprehensive Review and Update on Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome. Pharmaceuticals 202417, 1549. https://doi.org/10.3390/ph17111549

Thoughts on Retirement, MIB Style

Sena alerted me to an article about the 28th anniversary of when the first Men in Black movie hit the theaters in 1997. The author praises it and says it’s still pretty good.

I can’t remember the first time I saw it, but it was probably not in 1997. I was in my second year of being an assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics (now called University of Iowa Health Care). I was too busy to do much of anything except run around the hospital responding to requests for psychiatry consultations from medicine and surgery. I did that a long time.

I’ve been blogging since 2010. I cancelled my first blog which was called The Practical Psychosomaticist. I then restarted blogging, calling it Go Retire Psychiatrist. One blog that pays homage to my career and to the Men in Black films is “The Last White Coat I’ll Ever Wear.”

It’s part reminiscence and part comedy in the style of Men in Black dialogue and jokes. Since I retired, I have not been back to the hospital except for scheduled appointments in the eye and dentistry clinics. I don’t know if I’ve ever reconciled myself to being retired. If someone were to tell me “We have a situation and we need your help” (think Men in Black II), I would probably say something like “There is a free mental health clinic on the corner of Lilac and East Valley.”

When it Comes to AI, What Are We Really Talking About?

I’ve been reading about artificial intelligence (AI) in general and its healthcare applications. I tried searching the web in general about it and got the message: “An AI Overview is not available for this search.”

I’m ambivalent about that message. There are a couple of web articles, one of which I read twice in its entirety, “Are we living in a golden age of stupidity?” The other, “AI, Health, and Health Care Today and Tomorrow: The JAMA Summit Report on Artificial Intelligence”was so long and diffuse I got impatient and tried to skip to the bottom line—but the article was a bottomless pit. The conflict-of-interest disclosures section was overwhelmingly massive. Was that part of the reason I felt like I had fallen down the rabbit hole?

I recently signed an addendum to my book contract for my consult psychiatry handbook (published in 2010, for heaven’s sake) which I hope will ultimately protect the work from AI plagiarism. I have no idea whether it can. I delayed signing it for months, probably because I didn’t want to have anything to do with AI at all. I couldn’t discuss the contract addendum with my co-editor Dr. Robert G. Robinson MD about the contract addendum because he died on December 25, 2024.

I found out today the book is old enough to find on the Internet Archive as of a couple of years ago. One notice about it says “Borrow Unavailable” and another notice says “Book available to patrons with print disabilities.”

All I know is that an “archivist” uploaded it. The introduction and first chapter “The consultation process” is available for free on line in pdf format. I didn’t know that until today either.

Way back in 2010 we didn’t use anything you could call AI when we wrote the chapters for the book. I didn’t even dictate my chapters because the only thing available to use would have been a voice dictation software called Dragon Naturally Speaking. It was notorious for transcribing my dictations for clinic notes and inserting so many errors in them that some clinicians added an addendum warning the reader that notes were transcribed using voice dictation software—implying the author was less than fully responsible for the contents. That was because the mistakes often appeared after we signed off on them as finished, which sent them to the patient’s medical record.

Sometimes I think that was the forerunner of the confabulations of modern-day AI, which are often called hallucinations.

Now AI is creating the clinic notes. It cuts down on the pajama time contributing to clinician burnout although it’s not always clear who’s ultimately responsible for quality control. Who’s in charge of regulatory oversight of AI? What are we talking about?

Svengoolie Show Movie: “Tarantula”

I watched the Svengoolie show movie “Tarantula” last night, although I fell asleep for what turns out to have been about 20 minutes or so during the second half hour of this 1955 film about radioactive nutrient producing a giant tarantula. I had to catch up on what I missed on the Internet Archive.

Don’t get me wrong, the movie didn’t put me to sleep; in fact, there were various segments that reminded me of various tangents I’m about to go off on.

Anyway, the film was directed by Jack Arnold and starred John Agar (Dr. Mass Hastings), Mara Corday (Stephanie ‘Steve’ Clayton), and Leo G. Carroll (Prof Gerald Deemer, who I guess was in a lot of Hitchcock films including North by Northwest, which Sena has seen). Raymond Bailey (Townsend, Arizona dept of agriculture scientist) had an interesting line I’ll mention later. Bailey also played the banker Milburn Drysdale in the Beverly Hillbillies TV show in the early ‘60s-early ‘70s.

The short summary of this film is that it’s one of several related to the fear of radioactivity-linked science gone bad leading to the creation of really big bugs running amok in tiny towns in the desert southwest. The main angle here is Prof Deemer’s scientific work on preventing world starvation from overpopulation by creating a nutrient that would, if mixed with the evil radioactive isotope, cause hungry tarantulas to grow to enormous size, in turn leading to cattle mutilations that would prevent long wait times for motorists waiting for cows to cross Route 66, consequently unblocking the path to McDonald’s restaurants, although the food chain interruption from the beef shortage caused by tarantula predation would eventually result in the loss of big macs leading to cannibalism, thereby cancelling world hunger by population reduction.

Scientists never think this one through.

But there are other things to talk about with respect to this movie. One of them is the word “acromegalia.” I know about acromegaly, but the term “acromegalia” was a new one to me, although it turns out to be an old term. Acromegaly is the usual name for the medical condition. Why the writers chose this word is a mystery. Both mean a rare pituitary gland problem which produces too much growth hormone leading to gigantism in which the hands, feet, and face grow bigger.

Another fascinating thing about the film is that I think I can hear Dr. Deemer call the radioisotope a specific name, something that sounds sort of like “ammoniac.” In the internet archive version, see if you can hear it at about 27:47.

Sena can hear it too. But I can’t find any reviewers who mention it and even AI denies that the radioisotope is given a name in the movie. Also, if it was made just for the movie, it doesn’t make sense because most isotopes’ names end in “-ium,” so no made-up word for it should sound like “ammoniac” which makes you think of ammonia, something somebody would wave under your nose to smell if you fainted from the sight of the giant tarantula.

Another interesting thing is the dialogue between Dr. Hastings and an Arizona Agricultural Institute scientist, Dr. Townsend (played by Raymond Bailey). The gist of the interaction is that Dr. Hastings brought a specimen of giant tarantula venom for Dr. Townsend to analyze, but when he says he found giant pools of it, Townsend is incredulous and accuses Hastings of either having a nightmare or being the biggest liar since Baron Munchausen. On the internet archive this exchange happens at about 59:07.

This is priceless. I know about Baron Munchausen because, as a consulting psychiatrist for many years I saw patients who had the syndrome which used to be called Munchausen’s Syndrome (now called Factitious Disorder) which is essentially a mental disorder in which patients claim to have diseases which they don’t actually have but fake them and lie to doctors about it. I gave lectures about the syndrome. There’s a fascinating literature about it and, the odd thing is that the real Baron von Munchhausen was a famous adventurer and raconteur—but he was not a liar.

What many people don’t know is that it was actually a fellow named Rudolf Erich Raspe, a German scientist and scholar who wrote a book about the baron which was mostly made up. Raspe was the liar, not Baron Munchhausen.

A person with Factitious Disorder was hospitalized at University of Iowa Health Care back in the 1950s and a long case report about it was published in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA). Further, a physician named William Bennett Bean, MD in the Department of Medicine at the University of Iowa wrote a very long poem about this which you can access. There was also a fascinating case report published in 1980 in the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) by medicine residents claiming they had seen a patient who lied about having Factitious Disorder (Factitious Munchausen’s Syndrome). The residents later admitted that they made up the story.  I summarized most of this in a blog post a few years ago.

Finally, there is a line by Dr. Hastings at about 1:04:45 which reminded me of a Verizon commercial years ago: “Can you hear me now?”

I think that’s more than enough about this movie, which I would give a rating of 4/5 mainly because it evoked so much from the deep recesses of my memory.

Shrilling Chicken Rating 4/5

Addendum: I couldn’t shake an urge to comment on a gesture of earlobe tugging that Dr. Matt Hastings engaged in while asking Prof Deemer about how quickly Jacobs developed his physical malformations. You can find this on the Internet Archive at time 28:36. Deemer dismisses it as acromegalia and nothing more but finally suggests Hastings could see that an autopsy be performed on Jacobs. I suspect Hasting’s earlobe tug might be dismissed as simple overacting, but there could be other interpretations.