NAMIWalks Today and Beyond!

We drove by Terry Trueblood Recreation Area today and were amazed by the big crowd of people. We found out about the NAMIWalks today because of the signage and people everywhere at the park.

The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) has been around since 1979, and you can read more from the top fundraiser for today’s event, Margalea Warner!

Black Psychiatrists in Iowa: A Brief Update

I was just googling the search terms “Black Psychiatrists in Iowa” and “African American Psychiatrists in Iowa” recently after finding a broken link in my 2019 blog post “Black Psychiatrists Iowa.”

I always think it’s funny that the results of my web search invariably show mainly a couple of mistakes. One is that I typically find my colleague, Dr. Donald Black, MD, a white male, misidentified as Black. The other mistake is that the search engine makes is confusing psychologists with psychiatrists, as though there were no difference. This happens every time, even nowadays in what many would call the era of wokeness.

The broken link was to what I thought was The 2018 Greater Iowa African American Resource Guide. I discovered the link leads to Iowa State University Diversity, Equity and Inclusion web page along with the “Page not found” notice. I could not find a 2018 issue of the guide on the web.

I found the 2019 guide, which showed that there were only two Black psychiatrists listed, me and Dr. Rodney J. Dean who founded the Dean and Associates psychiatry clinic in Sioux City, Iowa. I guess now there might be only one Black psychiatrist in Iowa.

I could not find later editions of the guide following 2019. I don’t know they were compiled or published by Kimberly Baxter, Director of the Iowa Accountability Program (IAP). According to the director, the guide was widely thought of as useful (see page ii of the guide). I wonder if the Covid-19 pandemic played some role in halting production of the guide.

However, I found a newsletter published (I didn’t see a date) on the Iowa Judicial Branch web page of Iowa Court dot gov web site, indicating the IAP was still active in domestic violence prevention programs. The IAP received a $900,000 continuation grant from the US Department of Justice, Office on Violence Against Women to continue court services for domestic violence victims. Thankfully, Kimberly Baxter is still active as Executive Director of Special Projects.

I don’t know if there will ever be another edition of The Greater Iowa African American Resource Guide.  I think it did a better job of tracking how many Black psychiatrists there are in Iowa than Dr. Google ever did.

Break The Retirement News Gently to Doctors

I’ve seen several articles on Medscape about how to convince doctors to retire or even force them to retire when they’re too old to practice. The articles are titled, “How Old Is Too Old to Work as a Doctor?”; “Are Aging Physicians a Burden?”; and “When Should Psychiatrists Retire?”

The Great Resignation almost makes the debates about this moot. Doctors, including psychiatrists, are retiring or quitting in droves because of burnout, largely related to the stress of the Covid-19 pandemic in the last two years. However, a lot of physicians were quitting medicine even prior to the pandemic.

The same arguments get trotted out. Doctors often lack insight into their failing cognition and physical health as they age. How do we respectfully assess and inform them of their deficits? Are there gentle ways to move them away from active medical, surgical, and psychiatric practice and into mentoring roles to capitalize on their strengths in judgment and experience?

The decision to persuade some doctors to retire, not so much because of advancing chronological age but because of dwindling cognitive capacity and other essential skills, needs to be handled with empathy and wisdom, especially if this is going to increase the workload for the rest of the doctors holding the fort.

Like the song says, “Break it to Me Gently.”

And speaking of songs, this doctor retirement discussion reminded me of a song I heard on TV when I was a kid. I could remember just one line, “Your Love is Like Butter Gone Rancid.”

I thought I heard it on an episode of an old TV sitcom, The Real McCoys. In fact, it was from a 1968 episode of the Doris Day Show called The Songwriter. Hey, we watched what my mom wanted to watch.

The song’s awful lyrics, which Doris Day “wrote” (only as part of the show; it was actually written by Joseph Bonaduce) were tied to the melody of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean”:

Your love is like butter gone rancid,

It’s no good now, it’s started to turn,

I pray that it’s just like the man said,

You can’t put it back in the churn

Can’t put

Can’t put

Can’t put it back in the churn

Oh, durn!

You can’t put it back…in the churn

The context here is that another character (Leroy) in the show had previously submitted the lyrics of a similarly bad song (“Weeds in the Garden of My Heart”) to a crooked music publishing company that lavishly praised the song and promised to publish it—at Leroy’s expense.

Leroy was clueless about getting cheated. He was too dumb to know how bad the song was, but his feelings would have been badly hurt if the family just flatly told him that. They had to figure out a way to break it to him gently. So, Doris wrote the equally terrible “Your Love is Like Butter Gone Rancid,” and performed it for Leroy and the rest of the family. Leroy thought Doris Day’s song was garbage but didn’t know how to tell her without hurting her feelings.

Doris then told Leroy she was also going to submit her rancid song to the crooked publishing company.

After Doris got the exact same letter the crooked company sent to Leroy—he learned his lesson and felt supported, gosh darn.

Anyway, I was moved to write a short song about the doctor retirement issue, “When Doctors Are Too Old to Practice,” sung to the tune of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” of course:

When doctors are too old to practice

And can’t tell your elbows from knees

When they sing old songs to distract us

It’s high time we tell them to leave

High time

High time

It’s high time we tell them to leave

Oh, beans!

It’s high time we tell them…to leave

I’ve received hundreds of billions of requests for a sing-a-long version of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” because you can’t sing the parodies unless you know the original tune.

Here you go!

You’re welcome.

Featured image picture credit: Pixydotorg.

Looking Back on Gunslingers and Chess Masters

I was looking at an early version of the handbook of consultation-liaison psychiatry that eventually evolved into what was actually published by Cambridge University Press. I wrote virtually all of the early version and it was mainly for trainees rotating through the consult service. The published book had many talented contributors. I and my department chair, Dr. Robert G. Robinson, co-edited the book.

In the introduction I mention that the manual was designed for gunslingers and chess masters. The gunslingers are the general hospital psychiatric consultants who actually hiked all over the hospital putting out the psychiatric fires that are always smoldering or blazing. The main problems were delirium and neuropsychiatric syndromes that mimic primary psychiatric disorders.

The chess masters were those I admired who actually conducted research into the causes of neuropsychiatric disorders.

Admittedly the dichotomy was romanticized. I saw myself as a gunslinger, often shooting from the hip in an effort to manage confused and violent patients. Looking back on it, I probably seemed pretty unscientific.

But I can tell you that when I followed the recommendations of the scientists about how to reverse catatonia with benzodiazepines, I felt much more competent. After administering lorazepam intravenously to patients who were mute and immobile before the dose to answering questions and wondering why everyone was looking at them after the dose—it looked miraculous.

Later in my career, I usually thought the comparison to a firefighter was a better analogy.

The 2008 working manual was called the Psychosomatic Medicine Handbook for Residents at the time. This was before the name of the specialty was changed back to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry. I wrote all of it. I’m not sure about the origin of my comment about a Psychosomatic Medicine textbook weighing 7 pounds. It might relate to the picture of several heavy textbooks on which my book sits. I might have weighed one of them.The introduction is below (featured image picture credit pixydotorg):

“In 2003 the American Board of Medical Specialties approved the subspecialty status of Psychiatry now known as Psychosomatic Medicine. Long before that, the field was known as Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry. In 2005, the first certification examination was offered by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. Both I and my co-editor, Dr. Robert G. Robinson, passed that examination along with many other examinees. This important point in the history of psychiatry began many decades ago, probably in the early 19th century, when the word “psychosomatic” was first used by Johann Christian Heinroth when discussing insomnia.

Psychosomatic Medicine began as the study of psychophysiology which in some quarters led to a reductionistic theory of psychogenic causation of disease. However, the evolution of a broader conceptualization of the discipline as the study of mind and body interactions in patients who are ill and the creation of effective treatments for them probably was a parallel development. This was called Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry and was considered the practical application of the principles and discoveries of Psychosomatic Medicine. Two major organizations grew up in the early and middle parts of the 20th century that seemed to formalize the distinction (and possibly the eventual separation) between the two ideas: the American Psychosomatic Society (APS) and the Academy of Psychosomatic Medicine (APM). The name of the subspecialty finally approved in 2003 was the latter largely because of its historic roots in the origin of the interaction of mind and body paradigm.

The impression that the field was dichotomized into research and practical application was shared and lamented by many members of both organizations. At a symposium at the APM annual meeting in Tucson, AZ in 2006, it was remarked that practitioners of “…psychosomatic medicine may well be lost in thought while…C-L psychiatrists are lost in action.”

I think it is ironic how organizations that are both devoted to teaching physicians and patients how to think both/and instead of either/or about medical and psychiatric problems could have become so dichotomized themselves.

My motive for writing this book makes me think of a few quotations about psychiatry in general hospitals:

“Relegating this work entirely to specialists is futile for it is doubtful whether there will ever be a sufficient number of psychiatrists to respond to all the requests for consultations. There is, therefore, no alternative to educating other physicians in the elements of psychiatric methods.”

“All staff conferences in general hospitals should be attended by the psychiatrist so that there might be a mutual exchange of medical experience and frank discussion of those cases in which there are psychiatric problems.”

“The time should not be too long delayed when psychiatrists are required on all our medical and surgical wards and in all our general and surgical clinics.”

The first two quotes, however modern they might sound, are actually from 1929 in one of the first papers ever written about Consultation Psychiatry (now Psychosomatic Medicine), authored by George W. Henry, A.B., M.D. The third is from the mid-1930s by Helen Flanders Dunbar, M.D., in an article about the substantial role psychological factors play in the etiology and course of cardiovascular diseases, diabetes, and fractures in 600 patients. Although few hospital organizations actually practice what these physicians recommended, the recurring theme seems to be the need to improve outcomes and processes in health care by integrating medical and psychiatric delivery care systems. Further, Dr. Roger Kathol has written persuasively of the need for a sea change in the way our health care delivery and insurance systems operate so as to improve the quality of health care in this country so that it compares well with that of other nations (2).

This book is not a textbook. It is not a source for definitive, comprehensive lists of references about all the latest research. It is not a thousand pages long and does not weigh seven pounds. It is a modest contribution to the principle of both/and thinking about psyche and soma; consultants and researchers; — gunslingers and chess masters.

In this field there are chess masters and gunslingers. We need both. You need to be a gunslinger to react quickly and effectively on the wards and in the emergency room during crises. You also need to be a chess master after the smoke has cleared, to reflect on what you did, how you did it—and analyze why you did it and whether that was in accord with the best medical evidence.

This book is for the gunslinger who relies on the chess master. This book is also for the chess master—who needs to be a gunslinger.

“Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat”—Sun Tzu.”

References:

1.        Kathol, R.G., and Gatteau, S. 2007. Healing body and mind: a critical issue for health care reform. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers. 190 pp.

2.        Kornfeld, D., and Wharton, R. 2005. The American Psychiatric Publishing Textbook of Psychosomatic Medicine. Psychosomatics 46:95-103.

They Did Learn How to Check for Delirium!

Here’s another oldie but goodie blog post, “It’s Survey Time.” It’s a blast from the past (May of 2011) but it needs a short introduction on why I’m reposting it.

So, I’m about a week out from my surgery for a detached retina. I’m doing pretty well. I keep thinking about a question a nurse asked me right after I was taken to the recovery room from the operating room. I was a little hazy because I’m pretty sure I got some sedation medication, although I was definitely mostly awake for the procedure. The nurse asked me, “Well, can you answer a question for me; will a stone float on water?”

First of all, I gave the right answer, “No.” More importantly, I was momentarily stunned because I recognized the question is from the Confusion Assessment Method for the Intensive Care Unit (CAM-ICU). And I told the nurse that. It reminded me of my early career as a general hospital consultation-liaison psychiatrist.

Most of my old blog posts from The Practical Psychosomaticist are about my frustration over what seemed to be my fruitless efforts to teach nurses and physicians about how to prevent, assess, and manage delirium.

I can’t tell you how happy I was that my recovery room nurse asked me a CAM-ICU delirium screening question.  

I mentioned the American Delirium Society (ADS) in the post and also found a fairly recent article on the CAM ICU. Among the authors were those I met at one of t he first ADS meetings: Malaz Boustani and Babar Kahn.

“It’s Survey Time!”:

“I know, I know, I can hear it out there, “Doesn’t Dr. Amos ever learn? Nobody does surveys and polls!” Hey, that’s OK; I have so much fun doing them anyway. Of course, it would be nice to get some responses… I’ve talked to you and I’ve talked to you, and I’m done talkin’ to you! Come back here, I’m not done talkin’ to you!

Anyway, the new poll for what’s hot and what’s not about delirium screening scales is up on the home page. The original one was partly to help our delirium prevention project committee to decide on which one to use. Well, the original got only 16 responses…but they were great responses! The amazing thing was that, despite the paucity of votes, the results were plausible. See the results:

Recall that at our 7th project meeting we selected the DOSS. What? There is good literature supporting all of these scales and a lot of factors influence selection of any tool, not the least of which is feasibility, which is mainly ease of use. That means it’s quick and doesn’t require a lot of training or additional assessments. And you should use a tool that’s validated for the patient population you want to protect from delirium. I probably got a lot of questioning looks at the screen when this poll came out because the Confusion Assessment Method-Intensive Care Unit (CAM-ICU) was not on the list. Well, you heard it from one of the main dudes on the team that developed the CAM-ICU that it’s probably not appropriate for use on general medical units…Dr. E. Wesley Ely himself (see post April 29, 2011). Hey, as far as the ICU patient population goes, the CAM-ICU is the holy grail. We need to keep looking for a sensitive and specific tool which is quick and easy for nurses to administer on general medical units.

We’re going with the DOSS. And one of my neuropsychologists, John, is offering to run neuropsychology test batteries on the patients that nurses screen with the DOSS. Atta boy, John! Neuropsychologists are going to be indispensable in this area. I remember pushing for the addition of subtests of the Repeatable Battery for the Assessment of Neuropsychological Status (RBANS), especially the Coding test in order to detect delirium early as possible. It didn’t make it, but it was close. This has been advanced by another one of our neuropsychologists here who’s done some delirium research in the bone marrow transplant unit with delirious patients. Hey, I still wonder what we could accomplish if the Coding test were added to the DOSS or even the Nursing Delirium Screening Scale (Nu-DESC). Maybe there’s already somebody out there putting a practical implementation plan for that into the real world.

So why do the poll again? Because I’d like to see if I could persuade nurses from large American and world organizations to put the nickel down and vote. And if I keep shoving this thing out there, maybe somebody will let us know that, hey, we’re not in this alone and offer to collaborate.

And I stole a couple of survey questions from our group to see what physicians and nurses think about how they manage delirium. It’s a way to take a snapshot of the culture of how docs and nurses work together on delirium recognition and interventions. And hey, why am I doing that? Because I’m a thief…no, no, I mean the reason is delirium is a medical emergency and we all need to work together to find ways to understand it better in order to prevent it. The American Delirium Society (ADS) tell you why delirium prevention is critical in the endless search to find ways to deliver high-quality medical care to patients:

Delirium Simple Facts:

  • More than 7 million hospitalized Americans suffer from delirium each year.
  • Among hospitalized patients who survived their delirium episode, the rates of persistent delirium at discharge, 1, 3 and 6 months are 45%, 33%, 26%, and 21% respectively.
  • More than 60% of patients with delirium are not recognized by the health care system.
  • Compared to hospitalized patients with no delirium and after adjusting for age, gender, race, and comorbidity, delirious patients suffer from:
  • Higher mortality rates at one month (14% vs. 5%), at six months (22% vs. 11%), and 23 months (38% vs. 28%);
  • Hospital stay is longer (21 vs. 9 days); Receive more care in long-term care setting at discharge (47% vs. 18%), at 6 months (43% vs. 8%) and at 15 months (33% vs. 11%); and
  • Have higher probability of developing dementia at 48 months (63% vs. 8%).

And have you registered for the ADS inaugural conference on June 5-7 in Indianapolis? Good for you! And are you going to bring back something from that conference for The Practical Psychosomaticist, and I don’t mean doughnuts? That’s the spirit! The surveys have spaces for free-text comments as well, which I want to hear!”

The Chicken Finally Lays An Egg

Below is an old post from a previous blog that I published on June 6, 2010. Although the title in my record is simply PM Handbook Blog, there must have been another title. Maybe it should have been more like The Chicken Has Finally Laid an Egg (you’ll get the joke later).

There are two reasons for posting it today. One is to illustrate how the Windows voice recognition dictation app works. It’s a little better than I thought it would be. The last time I used it, it was ugly. I’m using it now because I thought it might be a little easier than trying to type it since I still have problems with vision in my right eye because of the recent retinal tear injury repair. So, instead of doing copy paste, what you’re seeing is a dictation—for the most part.

On the other hand, I’m still having to proofread what I dictate. And I still find a few mistakes, though much fewer than I expected.

The other reason for this post is to help me reflect on how far the fellowship has come since that time. It did eventually attract the first fellow under a different leader. That was shortly after I retired. It was a great step forward for the department of psychiatry:

“Here is one definition of a classic:

“Classic: A book which people praise but don’t read.” Mark Twain.

When I announced the publishing of our book, Psychosomatic Medicine, An Introduction to Consultation Liaison Psychiatry, someone said that it’s good to finally get a book into print and out of one’s head. The book in earlier years found other ways out of my head, mainly in stapled, paperclipped, spiral bound, dog eared, pages of homemade manuals, for use on our consultation service.

It’s a handbook and meant to be read, of course, but quickly and on the run. As I’ve said in a previous blog, it makes no pretension to being the Tour de Force textbook in America that inspired it. However, any textbook can evolve into an example of Twain’s definition of a classic. The handbook writer is a faithful and humble steward who can keep the spirit of the classic lively.

We must have a textbook as a marker of Psychosomatic Medicine’s place in medicine as a subspecialty. It’s like a Bible, meant to be read reverently, venerated, and quoted by scholars. But the ark of this covenant tends to be a dusty bookshelf that bows under the tome’s weight. A handbook is like the Sunday School lesson plan for spreading the scholar’s wisdom in the big book.

Over the long haul, the goal of any books should mean something other than royalties or an iconic place in history. No preacher ever read a sermon to our congregation straight out of the Bible. It was long ago observed by George Henry that there will never be enough psychiatric consultants. This prompts the question of who will come after me to do this work. My former legacy was to be the Director of a Psychosomatic Medicine Fellowship in an academic department in the not-so-distant past. Ironically, though there will never be enough psychiatric consultants, there were evidently too many fellowships from which to choose. I had to let the fellowship go. My legacy then became this book, not just for Psychosomatic Medicine fellows, but medical students, residents, and maybe even for those who see most of the patients suffering from mental illness—dedicated primary care physicians.

My wife gave me a birthday card once which read: “Getting older: May each year be a feather on the glorious Chicken of Life as it Soars UNTAMED and BEAUTIFUL towards the golden sun.” My gifts included among the obligatory neckties, a couple of books on preparing for retirement.

Before I retire, I would like to do all I can to ensure that the next generation of doctors learn to respect the importance of care for both body and mind of each and every one of their patients. That’s the goal of our book. And may the glorious chicken of life lay a golden egg within its pages to protect it from becoming a classic.”

Chicken picture credit: Pixydotorg.

The Connection Between The University of Iowa and Factitious Disorder

I found another old blog post, Thoughts on Munchausen’s Syndrome, which reminded me of a psychiatric disorder I saw probably more frequently than most psychiatrists unless they are consultation-liaison specialists. I wrote it in June of 2011. I still don’t understand the disorder and I doubt anyone else does either. The interesting connection to Iowa is that a patient with Factitious Disorder was admitted to the University of Iowa Hospital in the 1950s. The treating doctor published a paper about him in the Journal of the American Medical Association.:

“I ran across an old poem written by William Bennett Bean, M.D., who was a physician in the Department of Medicine at the University of Iowa. It’s called “The Munchausen Syndrome” and it was published in 1959 [1]. Dr. Bean was Professor and Chairman of the Department of Medicine at the University of Iowa in 1948. Of course, he did more than write interesting poetry. He specialized in nutrition. He was named the Sir William Osler Professor of Medicine at Iowa in 1970.  He was well-known as a clinician and teacher. He was also called a “masterful teller of tales”, which may explain in part why he wrote “The Munchausen Syndrome.”  One quotation is “The one mark of maturity, especially in a physician, and perhaps it is even rarer in a scientist, is the capacity to deal with uncertainty.”

The poem is about a psychiatric disorder about which there is a great deal of uncertainty, formerly called Munchausen’s Syndrome, now known as Factitious Disorder. It’s based on an actual case of the disorder, an account of which was published in the medical literature [3]. An excerpt from the beginning of the work follows:

THE MUNCHAUSEN SYNDROME

By WILLIAM B. BEAN, M.D.

IOWA CITY, IOWA

The patient who shops around from doctor to doctor, the dowager alert for some new handsome young physician to hear her flatulent and oleagi­nous outpourings, the bewildered neurotic who has had a dozen operations for a thousand misunderstood complaints—these we recognize as interest­ing patients or as nuisances we have to deal with as charitably as we may. They occupy the lower end of the spectrum of humanity with all its in­finitely various people. Nearby reside the malingerer and the deadbeat, a shoplifter of medical aid who escapes just ahead of the policeman. At the frayed end of this spectrum we find a fascinating derelict, human flotsam detached from his moorings, the peripatetic medical vagrant, the itiner­ant fabricator of a nearly perfect facsimile of serious illness—the victim of Munchausen’s syndrome. This is the tale of such a patient. He had our medical department in an uproar off and on for forty days and forty nights. His Odyssey I outline here in verse. I find to my anguish that much of the verse does not scan, some does not rhyme, and all is obscure. I proceed.

THE MUNCHAUSEN SAGA

In the summer of Nineteen and Fifty-four At Iowa City, our hospital door,—

Mecca for hundreds every day—

A merchant seaman came our way—A part time wrestler, in denim jacket

Crashed through the door with a horrible racket,

Two hundred sixty pounds at least,

He was covered with blood like a wounded beast.

Try to excuse the tone of the piece; it was written in another era when a more intolerant attitude toward illness mimicry was viewed as malicious undermining of the physician-patient relationship. In fact, it’s virtually impossible to distinguish Factitious Disorder from Malingering. We think of the former as belonging in the category of mental illness and the latter as, well, not an illness at all, but lying in order to get something or to get out of something. Factitious Disorder is marked by lying as well and some try to make the case that the lying which patients with Factitious Disorder engage in, sometimes called “pseudologia fantastica” or pathologic lying, is somehow different from ordinary lying. According to Bean, it’s like this:

He gave us a history, in elegant diction, Which later we found was all out fiction. Carpenter, wrestler and bosun’s mate And stevedore. He could exaggerate! His body was covered with many a scar He said from surgeons near and far

His appendix went in County Cork A navel hernia in New York.

Once, he declared, in Portland, Maine,

A surgeon stripped out his saphenous vein. Surgical scars above one kidney

Came from an ectomy done in Sidney. Scarred, he was, on his abdomen

From a wreck, he said, when with women roamin.’ Another injury he wouldn’t reveal us

Messed up his left internal malleolus. From time to time, as he wove this story

He boasted of prowess and wealth and glory. By courage he ruled his fellow sailors

But he didn’t say much of his many jailors.

In fact, we understand very little about so-called pathologic lying, though the telling of tales is engaged in not just by psychiatric patients. One of the most fascinating consequences of the frustration physicians feel about Factitious  Disorder was the fraudulent case report about Factitious Munchausen’s Syndrome. The paper was published by a couple of resident physicians in the New England Journal of Medicine and was a spurious account of an emergency room patient named Norman U. Senchbau, who claimed to actually have Munchausen’s Syndrome and who demanded admission to hospital for treatment [2].  He supposedly confessed to having undergone many surgeries and to prove it, displayed many scars on his abdomen…which washed off with soap and water. Of course, the name of the patient is just an anagram of Baron Munchausen.

I occasionally get calls from internists and surgeons about patients whom they suspect of manufacturing illness for the sake of taking the role of patient (part of the definition of the disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). As often as not, I have no clear idea of how to proceed with interviewing someone who probably does deliberately produce illness, other than to do my best to listen for understanding, to avoid confronting them, and to seek some way to interrupt their self-destructive behavior. In the end I don’t believe we now know much more than Bean did:

What do we know of the pathogenesis

Of hospital vagrants and doctors menaces? Maybe the person acts unenlightened

From a real disease which has him frightened. Does part of the reason he may vex you all Lurk in dark leanings homosexual?

What is the cause, and what are the reasons He wandered pitifully through the seasons? Lonely pilgrim out of orbit

Peace and quiet lost in forfeit.

Hospital haunters, doctor deceivers

Their acting confounds even nonbelievers. Derelicts lost in a cold society

Wanderlusting, without satiety.

Social pariah or medical freak

Whence does he come and what does he seek?

I cannot relieve my brain’s congestion By unveiling an answer to this question In the age of sputniks, the fall of parity We all should try to think with clarity.

L’Envoi

Princes and wise men of many conditions

Beautiful ladies and honored physicians

I’m sorry I cannot fasten my claws in

What causes the Syndrome named Munchausen, This off again, on again, gone again Finnegan

Comes in, than goes out and at length comes in again. Munchausen’s victims must be expected

To plague our lives unless detected.

Those we identify when we sight ’em

Should be restricted ad infinitum

So be alert for this great nonesuchman Munchausen syndrome’s flying Dutchman.

1.    Bean, W.B., The Munchausen syndrome. Perspectives in biology and medicine, 1959. 2(3): p. 347-53.

2.   Gurwith, M. and C. Langston, Factitious Munchausen’s syndrome. The New England journal of medicine, 1980. 302(26): p. 1483-4.

3.   Chapman, J.S., Peregrinating problem patients; Munchausen’s syndrome. Journal of the American Medical Association, 1957. 165(8): p. 927-33.”

Quiz Show on Delirium

Here’s an old post from February 15, 2011 from my previous blog The Practical Psychosomaticist called Quiz Show Versus Grand Rounds for Delirium Education:

“So you want to put on a game show contest to educate clinicians about delirium? Contact David Meagher, a psychiatrist in (where else?) Limerick, Ireland. He reported on this innovative educational workshop in the November 2010 Vol. 3 issue of the Annals of Delirium, the newsletter for the European Delirium Association (EDA). He also published the study which describes the contest in International Psychogeriatrics[1].

The workshop focused on clinician attitudes toward drug therapy for distressed delirious patients. It explored pre-existing attitudes and practice toward the use of medications to manage delirium and exposed participants to a very interactive educational event modeled after a popular TV quiz show. There were two teams (skeptics versus neuroleptics) furnished with a list of statements about delirium pharmacotherapy. The participants later completed a post-workshop questionnaire that explored changes in attitudes as a result of the workshop.

The participants were all experts on the subject and there was a good deal of variability in attitudes and practice. Some of the questions put to the teams involved using antipsychotics prophylactically to prevent delirium, the mechanism of action of antipsychotics, and what role benzodiazepines play in the treatment of non-alcohol withdrawal delirium.

One of the more puzzling findings was that the frequency of antipsychotic use was inversely proportional to the perception of the strength of supporting evidence. In other words, the less they knew about antipsychotics, the more often they used them. Most participants seemed to believe that the principal mechanism of action of antipsychotics is sedation, despite the lack of supporting evidence.

Some clinicians used antipsychotics to relieve the stress of caregivers rather than that of delirious patients, an example of patients getting the right treatment for the wrong reasons as observed by Meagher—and many of us in the field.

The workshop also highlighted the tendency of clinicians to focus on risk management rather than effective therapeutic intervention in the management of delirious patients with disruptive behavior and severe distress. This mainly relates to focus on the potential adverse effects of antipsychotics such as extrapyramidal side effects, metabolic, and cerebrovascular effects.

The quiz show activity was fun and challenging. The device of dividing the participants into two small teams with larger audience participation cut down on the anxiety that could be provoked by giving the “wrong answer”. The questions were true/false and didn’t always have clear right or wrong answers. It was highly interactive, a component of continuing medical educational (CME) activities that is increasingly encouraged because it’s more likely to lead to changes in clinician attitude and practice. The one-time Grand Rounds CME “seat time” is going the way of the dinosaur.

So a couple of findings from the quiz show post-activity questionnaire were that clinicians were more likely to use antipsychotics prophylactically and to use antipsychotics to manage hypoactive delirium.

 Our delirium intervention project group members are not quite as enthusiastic yet about these two interventions. We’re a bit more inclined at least initially to focus on non-pharmacologic multicomponent strategies such as the example below:

  • Minimize the use of immobilizing catheters, intravenous lines, and physical restraints
  • Avoid immobility, early mobilization
  • Monitor nutrition
  • Provide visual and hearing aids
  • Monitor closely for dehydration
  • Control pain
  • Monitor fluid-electrolyte balance
  • Monitor bowel and bladder functioning
  • Review medications
  • Reorient communications with the patient
  • Place an orientation board, clock, or familiar objects (ie, family photographs) in patient rooms
  • Encourage cognitively stimulating activities such as word puzzles
  • Facilitate sleep hygiene measures, including relaxation music or tapes at bedtime, warm drinks, and gentle massage
  • Minimize noise and interventions at bedtime, e.g., by rescheduling medication times

But I’m just as enthusiastic about interactive educational methods to engage learners in order to build a culture more likely to produce champions who will lead the delirium prevention effort—try the delirium multicomponent criss-cross puzzle below. The clues are contained in the list of multicomponent tactics above.”

  1. Meagher, D.J., Impact of an educational workshop upon attitudes towards pharmacotherapy for delirium. Int Psychogeriatr, 2010. 22(6): p. 938-46.

Don’t Look in the Dictionary for Mental Health and Mental Illness

I read an interesting article in Clinical Psychiatry News the other day, written by Dinah Miller, MD in the Shrink Rap News column, “Psychiatry and semantics.” Dr. Miller’s point was that it’s sometimes hard to define terms when discussing mental illness and stress.

Can stress be defined as a mental illness? What the heck is the definition of mental illness? What does it mean to say that someone is depressed?

Way back in 2006, when I was an Associate Professor in psychiatry, I wrote an introductory article for a series of articles about stress for Psychiatric Times. The title was “Stress and the Psychiatrist: An Introduction.” I had a tough time defining stress also. In fact, the first 2 paragraphs of my article say it all:

“Defining “stress” and how it is expressed and managed in both psychiatrists and patients is a difficult proposition. This Special Report focuses on stress and the middle ground between the impulse to say there is no such thing as “stress” and the tendency to describe many explicit addressable issues under the monolithic term, “stress.”

I remember what my ward supervisor once told me about stress when I was a resident in psychiatry. I was presenting a case about a patient who was depressed and complaining about all the stress in her life. At that point, he barked testily, “There’s no such thing as stress!” He went on to direct me to be more specific in my interviewing techniques in an effort to identify the concrete problems that my patient was experiencing, instead of substituting a sort of shorthand (i.e., “lazy”) method of indicating the source of her depression. In his view, the term “stress” was being overused and it had become virtually meaningless.”

At the time I wrote that article, there was surprisingly little data about stress in psychiatrists. On the other hand, it was well known that psychiatrists are prone to stress, burnout, and suicide.

As I read my own article, I was surprised at how little things have changed over the years. In fact, they have gotten much worse. There is a lot of talk about The Great Resignation. Health care workers are leaving their jobs in droves, often due to the pressures of the pandemic.

I was and still am a fan of Stephen Covey’s wisdom:

Covey disparages the “Great Jackass” theory of management, in which the carrot-and-stick style of leadership dominates. Adopting a principle-centered leadership paradigm entails a commitment to change at the individual level, working from the inside out. This means building self-awareness, identifying one’s own vitally important goals, and creating a balance that includes a devotion to living, loving, learning, and leaving a legacy. In turn, this might lead to identifying a personal mission and a vision for an organization that empowers others to find their own motivation to service. Many of the problems that Covey finds in big business exist in the mental health care sector-low trust, low productivity, and environments in which the cultures of blame and victimization, political gamesmanship, and apathy spread. These are often the issues that get subsumed under the name of “stress” in academic departments, community mental health centers, and private practice groups.

Of course, despite how wise I sounded back then, I still ended up with burnout. It took a lot out of me, but it didn’t destroy me.  According to some figures, about 40%-60% of physicians are burned out.

One guy I admire a great deal is Dr. George Dawson, MD. He writes the blog Real Psychiatry. He has been fighting the pressures in the health care system for decades and signs that he’s still going strong are in the Psychiatric Times article “The Bureaucratic Takeover of American Psychiatry: George Dawson, MD, DFAPA.

The interviewer for that article, Dr. Awais Aftab, MD asked George what he thought about the system that psychiatrists must work in which tends to discount the effect of social adversity, poverty, and trauma on the psychiatric distress of their patients, yet corner them into a pill-prescribing role.

George replied, “I heard repeated stories about how child psychiatrists and pediatricians were expected to provide a miracle medical cure to address complex psychosocial problems.

As the number of prescriptions increased there was concern that children were being overmedicated and treated with inappropriate prescriptions like atypical antipsychotics. At that point a consultation line with a child psychiatrist was provided for these prescribers to discuss the prescriptions. At no point were the psychosocial parameters addressed and they still have not been addressed to this day.”

In response to Dr. Aftab’s question about George’s recommendations for how to address this situation:

“I have been writing and speaking about this in various capacities for the past 30 years. During this time very few physicians have been interested in a political fight. The only major figure in psychiatry I can recall is Harold Eist, MD, when he was the president of the American Psychiatric Association. Practically all other professional organizations are silent about managed care and pharmacy benefit managers as malignant forces. There is a lot written about burnout and how these companies waste physician time to the tune of billions of dollars a year. Nobody seems to talk much about all the free work physicians have to do to support the conflict-of-interest-driven decisions these companies make. There is some current interest in the Maintenance of Certification (MOC) issue that professional organizations have also ignored. But in general, nothing will happen until many more physicians get activated and unite. There is still the escapist dream out there that “I can still do private practice,” but that is vanishing fast.

After decades of elaborate planning and recommendations, I am back to the beginning. The course of action at this point is fairly simple. There has to be united agreement on the fact that managed care companies and pharmaceutical benefit managers work against the best interests of physicians and their patients. Once that recognition is there, a rational course of action may follow. But it does take physician professional organizations taking a clear stand against these business practices.

I do think there is a lot to be said for specialty clinics that are outside of the administrative scope of managed care companies. The first groups I noticed were radiologists and anesthesiologists. They were followed by surgical specialists. I do not see many large free-standing psychiatric practices. I think it is possible to practice with a group of like-minded psychiatrists and provide excellent care based on an agreed upon practice style that will result in greater degree of professional satisfaction than is possible as an employee of a managed care company. The required business expertise and planning is a deterrent to most but knowing what I know about the landscape today I would have tried it much earlier in my career.”

George announced his retirement in January this year. But he’s not done.

Dr. Miller suggests that we come up with a lingo that’s more precise to clarify what mental illness and mental health are and what our positions as practitioners and patients ought to be—and what we should do.

So that naturally led me to Allen Frances, MD, who wrote the book on the subject several years ago, “Essentials of Psychiatric Diagnosis: Responding to the Challenge of DSM-5.” Dr. Frances was also interviewed by Dr. Awais Aftab, MD, leading to the article “Conversations in Critical Psychiatry: Allen Frances, MD, published in May of 2019.

Dr. Frances says this about what he believes is “among the noblest of professions”:

 “I fear that too many psychiatrists are now reduced to pill pushing, with far too little time to really know their patients well and to apply the rounded biopsychosocial model that is absolutely essential to good care. We also have done far too little to educate the primary care doctors who prescribe 80% of psychiatric meds on the principles of cautious prescribing, proper indications, full consideration of risks, and the value of watchful waiting and tincture of time.

 I despair the diagnostic inflation that results from a too loose diagnostic system, aggressive drug company marketing, careless assessment, and insurance company pressure to rush to judgement. Diagnoses should be written in pencil, and under-diagnosis is almost always safer and more accurate than over-diagnosis. And, finally, I object to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) research agenda that is narrowly brain reductionistic; it has achieved great intellectual masterpieces, but so far has not yet helped a single patient. So, in sum, I have loved being a psychiatrist, but wish we were better organized to end psychiatric suffering.”

Essentials of Psychiatric Diagnosis by Allen Frances

He rejects the dichotomy that mental illnesses are either diseases or problems in living as far too simplistic.  He deplores the tendency of the DSM 5 to confuse mental disorder with “everyday sadness, anxiety, grief, disappointments, and stress responses that are an inescapable part of the human condition.” He says the DSM should be only a tool to help guide clinicians’ judgment, not replace it.

So, let’s stop stressing ourselves out looking in the dictionary for definitions of mental health and mental illness.

with permission from the publisher Guilford Press

Our Impressions of University of Iowa Free Webinar Yesterday: The Stories That Define Us”

We were overall delighted with yesterday’s presentation, University of Iowa Free Webinar: “Breaking Barriers: Arts, Athletics, and Medicine (1898-1947).” It’s one in a series of 4 virtual seminars with two more scheduled this month, which you can register for at this link.

February 15: Endless Innovation: An R1 Research Institution (1948–1997)

February 22: The Next Chapter: Blazing New Trails (1998–2047)

The moderator was university archivist and storyteller, David McCartney.

Presenters include:

Yesterday’s presentation was recorded and will be uploaded to The University of Iowa Center for Advancement YouTube site at a later date.

McCartney did an excellent job as moderator, although got stumped from a question from a viewer about who was the first African American faculty member in the College of Medicine. He’s still working on tracking that down. It wasn’t me. I’m not that old and I am not risen from the dead, as far as I can tell; but to be absolutely clear, you should ask my wife, Sena. I was able to google who was the first African American graduate of the University of Iowa law school: Alexander Clark, Jr. McCartney thinks he might have been the first University of Iowa alumnus, although he couldn’t confirm that.

On the other hand, I could have been the first African American consulting psychiatrist (maybe the only African American psychiatrist ever) in the Department of Psychiatry at UIHC—but I can’t confirm that. Maybe McCartney could work on that, too.

 There are a few words about me in the department’s own history book, “Psychiatry at Iowa: The Shaping of a Discipline: A History of Service, Science, and Education by James Bass: Chapter 5, The New Path of George Winokur, 1971-1990:

“If in Iowa’s Department of Psychiatry there is an essential example of the consultation-liaison psychiatrist, it would be Dr. James Amos. A true in-the-trenches clinician and teacher, Amos’s potential was first spotted by George Winokur and then cultivated by Winokur’s successor, Bob Robinson. Robinson initially sought a research gene in Amos, but, as Amos would be the first to state, clinical work—not research—would be Amos’s true calling. With Russell Noyes, before Noyes’ retirement in 2002, Amos ran the UIHC psychiatry consultation service and then continued on, heroically serving an 811-bed hospital. In 2010 he would edit a book with Robinson entitled Psychosomatic Medicine: An Introduction to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry.” (Bass, J. (2019). Psychiatry at Iowa: A History of Service, Science, and Education. Iowa City, Iowa, The University of Iowa Department of Psychiatry).”

And in Chapter 6 (Robert G. Robinson and the Widening of Basic Science, 1990-2011), Bass mentions my name in the context of being one of the first clinical track faculty (as distinguished from research track) in the department. In some ways, breaking ground as a clinical track faculty was probably harder than being the only African American faculty member in the department.

I had questions for Lan Samantha Chang and for Dr. Patricia Winokur (who co-staffed the UIHC Medical-Psychiatry Unit with me more years ago than I want to count.

I asked Dr. Chang what role did James Alan McPherson play in the Iowa Writers Workshop. She was finishing her presentation and had not mentioned him, so I thought I’d better bring him up. She had very warm memories of him being her teacher, the first African American to win a Pulitzer Prize for fiction, and a long-time faculty member at the Workshop.

She didn’t mention whether McPherson had ever been a director of the Workshop, though she went through the list of directors from 1897 to when she assumed leadership in 2006. You can read this on the Workshop’s History web page. I have so far read two sources (with Wikipedia repeating the Ploughshares article item) on the web indicating McPherson had been acting director between 2005-2007 after the death of Frank Conroy. One source for this was on Black Past published in 2016 shortly after his death, and the other was a Ploughshares article published in 2008. I sent an email request for clarification to the organizers of the zoom webinar to pass along to Lan Samantha Chang.

I asked Dr. Winokur about George Winokur’s contribution to the science of psychiatric medicine. Dr. George Winokur was her father and he was the Chair of the UIHC Psychiatry Department while I was there. She mentioned his focus on research in schizophrenia and other accomplishments. I’ll quote the last paragraph from Bass’s history on the George Winokur era:

“Winokur, in terms of research, was a prototype of the new empirical psychiatrist. Though his own research was primarily in the clinical realm, he was guided by the new neurobiological paradigm (perhaps in an overbalanced way) that was solidifying psychiatry with comparative quickness. New techniques in imaging and revelations of the possibilities in genetic study and neuropsychopharmacology lay ahead. George Winokur had helped the University of Iowa’s Department of Psychiatry—and American psychiatry as a whole—turn a corner away from subjectivity and irregularity of Freudian-based therapies. And once that corner had been turned there was no going back.”

George Winokur was the department chair at University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics from 1971 to 1990 and had a unique and memorable style. George also had a rough sense of humor. He had a rolling, gravelly laugh. He had strict guidelines for how residents should behave, only slightly tongue-in-cheek. They were written in the form of 10 commandments. Who knows, maybe there are stone tablets somewhere:

Winokur’s 10 Commandments

  1. Thou shalt not sleep with any UI Psychiatry Hospital patient unless it be thy spouse.
  2. Thou shalt not accept recompense for patient care in this center outside thy salary.
  3. Thou shalt be on time for conferences and meetings.
  4. Thou shalt act toward the staff attending with courtesy.
  5. Thou shalt write progress notes even if no progress has been made.
  6. Thou shalt be prompt and on time with thy letters, admissions and discharge notes.
  7. Thou shalt not moonlight without permission under threat of excommunication.
  8. Data is thy God. No graven images will be accepted in its place.
  9. Thou shalt speak thy mind.
  10. Thou shalt comport thyself with modesty, not omniscience.

Quinn Early has a lot of energy and puts it to good use. His documentary of the sacrifices of African American sports pioneers, including “On the Shoulders of Giants” (Frank Kinney Holbrook) is impressive.

There was a good discussion of the importance of the book “Invisible Hawkeyes: African Americans at the University of Iowa during the Long Civil Rights Era”, edited by former UI faculty, Lena and Michael Hill.

Sena and I thought yesterday’s presentation was excellent. We plan to attend the two upcoming webinars as well. We encourage others to join.