Random Thoughts on the Iowa vs Wisconsin Football Game Today

OK, I know it’s in the books. Wisconsin won the football game with Iowa today, 27 to 7. Anybody can have a bad day. Iowa quarterback, Spencer Petras scored the only touchdown for Iowa. We hope the best for Wisconsin player Clay Cundiff, who had to be taken off the field in an ambulance after a leg injury. You know the game is over when the announcers start chatting about things like Wisconsin player, Braelon Allen, who can squat 610 pounds, and Halloween candy. I’m not going to tell you how early that chatter started.

Actually, I learned something new about the Iowa head football coach staff. It was from a trivia question during the game. Kirk Ferentz and Hayden Fry have been the only head coaches for the Iowa football team since 1979. How many head coaches have the other 13 teams in the Big Ten conference run through in the same time period? The answer is 94 (about 7 per school). Are there 13 or 14? I don’t know but 13 is how many the trivia question mentioned. Details.

How’s that for continuity of leadership? I’d say that’s a win.

Anyway, we tend to have a soft spot for Wisconsin. We visited a couple of times a dozen years ago before moving there briefly so I could try private practice psychiatry. My first vivid memory is of some guy walking down the middle of State Street in Madison wearing a live rattlesnake on his head. I can think of safer hats. But a rattlesnake says something more about you than your fashion sense. I’m just not sure what.

We also visited the Henry Vilas Zoo, where we saw, among other things, a real live badger. It doesn’t look like much. I guess the reason why the Wisconsin football team adopted the name of that animal is that it’s said to be totally fearless.

Madison is a not a huge metropolis but there’s a lot of interesting to see and do. I put on a little weight there from all the great food.

Iowa is a great place to live, too. Where else can you see a huge sculpture of a sitting man on the side of a road?

Moderna Booster Jab Today and Mindful Zombies

I got my Moderna Covid-19 booster jab this morning. That was quick. A guy (probably about my age, I’m not sure) waiting for his booster behind me chuckled and asked, “Did she even let you sit down for it?” I was in and out that fast. It’s the same as the primary series, only half-dose. Sena and I are now both fully vaccinated and boosted.

According to the FDA and CDC guidelines, I could have gotten a heterologous booster, but I stuck with what I got for my primary series. There was no problem with vaccine supply; it was already on the shelf, so the only thing different was the smaller dose. Since there’s not much else to say about it, we’ll move on to other more exciting news.

Sena ordered the Zombie cribbage game I just had to have. It won’t get here by Halloween, but that’s OK. I know the board is a folding plastic affair and there’s only enough peg holes for what would be half a full game (61 instead of 121). The pegs are zombie figures—which may or may not fit in the holes.

But it’s zombies! This is what happens to you in retirement, people. My gratitude to Sena for getting Zombie cribbage will be to play Scrabble with her.

That reminds me of a cribbage story I read on the web about a game between a couple of old guys in a senior community in Minnesota. One of them, Harry, was 108 years old and the other, Don, was 105. They were long time cribbage players, but they’d never played each other. The young guy won. As soon as he did, he got back on his walker, saying, “Just another game,” and left. In fact, neither player got as excited about the affair as everyone else including spectators, family, and staff, talking it up like it was a championship boxing match. Don’s family said that his attitude about the win was probably part of the reason for his longevity.

I liked Don’s reaction to winning the game. I don’t know if Don’s approach to cribbage is the same as it is to life in general. Maybe it’s about living in the present. When something is over, it’s in the past and it’s time to move on. There’s probably no point in worrying about the future either, especially when you get pretty old. There’s not much of it left.

Maybe this mean that retirees should be more like zombies—we should just play cribbage, eat brains mindfully, and forget about tomorrow. You’re welcome.

Congratulations to 2021 UI Physicians Clinical Awards Winners

I was so happy to see the winners of the 2021 University of Iowa Physicians Clinical Awards winners. I have a special bias for a couple of them because I worked with them for years in my capacity as psychiatric consultant in the general hospital prior to my retirement in June of 2020.

Dr. Kevin Doerschug, MD, the winner of the Excellence in Our Workplace Award, actually rotated on the psychiatry consult service when he was a trainee. He and I saw each other frequently in the Medical Intensive Care Unit (MICU). He is one of the kindest doctors I have ever met. Dr. Dilek Ince, MD, the winner of the Best Consulting Provider Award, is a thorough and tireless clinician. As consultants, our paths often crossed in the hospital.

I congratulate all the winners. Iowa is so fortunate to have you.

Can Cribbage Cultivate Congeniality?

Sena and I have been playing cribbage since late 2019. It’s a two-hander card game played on a board with pegs for keeping score. It’s been around for about 400 years and some have asked whether it’s a dying game, played mainly by codgers in retirement homes. The question is whether it can promote positive attributes like congeniality.

Actually, it’s a pretty popular game, especially for, some reason, in California where there are over 40 local cribbage clubs according to the American Cribbage Congress (ACC), the big boss organization in North America, established in 1980. Most states in the U.S. have only a few. Iowa has one in Ankeny.

If you look at the ACC website, you’ll find a section called the ACC Cribbage Club Code of Congeniality. It’s under the Clubs section. The wording is in some ways a bit ambiguous, probably because many of the members are very competitive. There are a lot of tournaments, including an annual Grand National. The most recent one was held in Sacramento in late September, just last month. Even though it’s a pretty big deal, attracting players from just about everywhere on the planet and possibly beyond, I can’t find out who the winner was from the website. Maybe that person is too congenial to brag.

Anyway, the ACC Code of Congeniality has a tone, for lack of a better word. For example, take this item:

“We pledge to not force new players to play a game in fifteen minutes. (We will, instead, be tolerant and not complain, remembering that we too, started slow.”)

Sena and I never can finish a game in 15 minutes, and we’ve been playing for going on a couple of years. That pledge as well as the others have an almost Mark Twain-like ring to them. It’s as though whoever wrote it was snickering behind her hand. Or maybe the ACC leadership got wind of a few complaints from new members who got horsewhipped for dragging the games out to 17 minutes or even longer. Actually, it’s the subtle sense of humor expressed in the Code of Congeniality that I appreciate.

The ACC also has a Code of Ethics which extols “true sportsmanship and respect for others, without rancor, animosity, or overwhelming self-interest during competition.”

The ACC publishes its tournament rules and it is to be contrasted with something called kitchen table cribbage. Except on my blog and YouTube video, you’re unlikely to find the term Kitchen Table Cribbage anywhere on the web.

There was a man named Peter Worden who traveled around the world, teaching people how to play cribbage, love it, and make new friends. His short documentary about his travels and adventures is called the Cribsionary. A photograph shows him hiding his face with his cards—I don’t know why. He says cribbage is 50% luck and 50% skill. There are those who have different opinions about that. He also says he likes the quotation:

It’s easy to agonize over such situations but quite profitless; sometimes one is faced with a scattered collection, at other times there’s an embarrassment of riches.

Peter Worden?

I could not find this quotation in its entirety anywhere on the web. Well, I found the “embarrassment of riches” part, the authorship of which seems to be in some doubt. This seems to capture how one feels about the hand one is dealt in a cribbage game—and perhaps in life. He doesn’t take credit for the quote, but I’m going to take a chance and give it to him.

Cribbage is a lot of fun and there are variety of handsome and even whimsical boards on which to score your points. The ACC prefers a special board for tournaments which makes it easier to avoid pegging mistakes.

We prefer a jumbo board (bigger numbers and pegs), but have played on one shaped like the number 29, the highest score you can make. The odds of getting that hand score are 1 in 216,580. You want to keep playing just to see if you ever get it. You’ll have a lot of fun on the quest.

It might also be a way to foster congeniality in society. We sure need it.

Stretching Our Legs on the Terry Trueblood Trail

We got out on the Terry Trueblood Trail today to stretch our legs, feel the breeze, and free our minds of the daily news, which is usually bad. It’s nice to just listen to the wind and the birds on the lake.

We see something interesting every time we walk the trail. Caterpillars were pretty busy, trying to cross the sidewalk without getting crushed by bicycle wheels. Some don’t make it. The grasshoppers are a little sluggish.

There’s a myth about woolly bear caterpillars. If they’re all black, some people say it predicts a really bad winter. The longer the brown color band, the milder the winter. We didn’t see any woolly bears today, just some nervous caterpillars trying to avoid getting smashed.

Waiting for Another Jab

I’m still waiting for my Moderna booster, which has to be blessed by the CDC Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices (ACIP). Every time I check the schedule for their next meeting on October 20, 21, I still see a draft agenda. The CDC still does not recommend heterologous boosting, although last week the FDA advisory committee discussed the preliminary results from an ongoing study about it and the data showed it was safe and resulted in impressive boosting. They had a discussion question about it, but there was no vote.  

My wife Sena, got her Pfizer booster last week. She had a sore arm for about a day and no other side effects. When I got my first Moderna shot, my left arm swelled up and got red and sore. If I had gotten another injection in the other arm, I would have looked buff.

I just remembered that when I was playing junior league baseball, I got hit with a bat in that same arm in the same spot. I think it took longer for that to heal up. I always struck out anyway. I think the pneumovax I got last month hurt more than the COVID shot.

After my second jab, I got pretty tired for about a day, but still exercised and didn’t really limit my activities beyond my usual laziness. I was still able to sprint away at top speed from Sena when she came looking for me to do some chores. She didn’t have any side effects at all from her primary series.

Before the vaccines were available about a year and a half ago and I was still working at the hospital as a psychiatric consultant, I saw patients who had COVID-19. In the general hospital, all of them were pretty sick, although at that time we were not supposed to see any ICU COVID-19 patients. I saw a patient with a catatonic-like syndrome, who didn’t respond to an intravenous benzodiazepine challenge test (see yesterday’s post about the catatonic variant of delirium). I always wore the proper Personal Protective Equipment (PPE).

Anyway, it sounds like more and more people are getting COVID-19 vaccines. I believe it’s the right thing to do. I’m not a big fan of mandates. Million-dollar lotteries didn’t seem to get the vaccination rates up very much. I don’t think scaring people is the ideal way to motivate them. I guess it’s up to you.

Music Beat

We listen to the Music Choice Channel almost every night on our TV. I know that must sound odd, listening to a music channel on television. What makes it more interesting are the biographical sketches. The Light Classical Channel bios occasionally have typos and word usage oddities as well as eyebrow raising facts:

Mozart’s full name was Johannes Chrysostomas Wolfgangus Theophilus “Bud” Mozart.

Frederic Chopin is not pronounced “Choppin” as in his well-known tune “I’m Choppin’ Onions in My Stew and Crying Over Losing You.”

Edvard Grieg was taught the violin by Ole Bull, which is a lot of bull since, at least in Iowa, bulls go “mooooo” and chase red bandanas.

Antonin Dvorak spent a summer in Spillville, Iowa in 1893 where he drank beer and toppled into the Turkey River.

Riveting stuff like that is usual for the Music Choice Light Classical Channel. On the other hand, some months ago, I heard a song called “The Penguin” by somebody named Raymond Scott. I looked him up today and he was a jazz composer and Music Choice must have misfiled him.

I can’t really make fun of his bio because it’s eccentric enough by itself. His music ended up in a lot of cartoons, but he didn’t do that on purpose. Scott sold the publishing rights to his work to Warner Bros. Music in 1943. The music director at that time was Carl Stalling, who used a lot of Scott’s compositions in cartoons, such as Looney Tunes and many others.

Raymond Scott wasn’t even his real name. He looked it up in a phone book and used it partly because it sounded cool. The other reason is more complicated. His real name was Harry Warnow and he was playing piano in a radio orchestra conducted by his brother, Mark in the 1930s. The band started playing Harry’s off-beat compositions and, in order to avoid the appearance of nepotism, Harry adopted the new name.

Scott also invented electronic musical instruments, and after a while, he spent most of his time doing that, working with engineers on many inventions.

I haven’t heard him on the Light Classical Channel for a long while now. Maybe Music Choice finally got him filed to the Jazz Channel.

Heeeeeere’s Arnie—at the FDA Advisory Committee Meeting

I got a big kick out of Acting Chair of the FDA’s Vaccine and Related Biological Products Advisory Committee. Dr. Arnold Monto at the FDA meeting last month for the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine booster. Everybody else did too, I bet. They all called him Arnie. I’m looking forward to seeing Arnie in action again this week for the meeting on the other boosters, Moderna and J&J. They’ll also discuss mixing and matching vaccine boosters—if Arnie lets them.

Arnie is pretty good at keeping speakers on a timeline. Everybody has a short leash. “That’s all you can ask.” “Keep it short, or I’ll cut you off.” “Hurry up, people want to get out in their gardens.” (He actually said something like that toward the end of the last meeting). The end of the meeting was abrupt. Arnie evidently expected the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices (ACIP) to tidy up the regulatory decision with which the FDA committee seemed to struggle regarding the Pfizer booster.

I’m not the only one who notices Arnie’s preference for terseness. I found the article “Hearing Without Listening” by David S. Hilzenrath, who posted it on the web, December 16, 2020 on POGO.

I think Hilzenrath was a little hard on Arnie. People do tend to talk too much at meetings and that can interfere with getting things done.

I wonder what Arnie thinks about the Moderna and J&J boosters and the heterologous vaccination dosing strategies (“mixing and matching”)? My impression of what I read in the news is that different experts might be purposely jazzing up the topic, sending readers in different directions decorated with teaser headlines and leading statements. One might say something like, sure, the booster does what it’s supposed to do, which is boost—but does it boost enough? Another might say the boosters are barely needed. Many of them tend to be identified as “former” directors of something or other.

I’m not sure I’ll pay much attention to the hour long open public hearing, 3-minute-long diatribes per speaker on the miraculous properties of lemon-freshened Ivermectin gummies, including breathless accounts of also witnessing armies of Bigfoot hacking hairballs at armies of Gray Aliens doing impressions of Elvis (“thank ya-thank ya very much”) all on the head of a pin. If YouTube is kicking out purveyors of COVID-19 vaccine misinformation, why can’t the FDA and CDC advisory committees do the same?

I wonder if Arnie will rush the upcoming meeting because has a butternut squash garden he wants to get back to as soon as possible?

OK, we’re done here. You need to pick your pumpkins.

Thoughts on Transplant Psychiatry

I see in the news that organ transplant centers have removed a few patients from wait lists because they refuse COVID-19 vaccines. It may seem odd, but this reminds me of an even more difficult situation in organ transplantation. What do you do about those who just refuse organ transplant altogether?

I used to be a psychiatric consultant and that meant providing psychiatric consultations to the organ transplant service as well.

As anyone can imagine, refusing a transplant is uncommon. But it happens.

There are strong contraindications to transplant, among them severe psychiatric illness, medical noncompliance, absent social support, and active substance use.

There are not enough organs to go around. Many transplant candidates die every year while on the waiting list. Graft survival rates are usually shorter than survival rates, meaning some patients will need more than one transplant.

This means that selection criteria for candidates must be fair and realistic. More than 95% of transplant programs require psychosocial evaluations. There are usually not enough transplant psychiatrists to do this so a team approach is used in which social workers, nurse practitioners, psychologists, substance use disorders experts, and psychiatric consultants collaborate.

While it can be unsettling to remove a patient from the wait list, few people outside of the transplant center realize it can be even more upsetting to hear a patient say “no” to transplant. In all cases, the patient’s life probably has been saved many times. Often, all members of the team have invested a great deal of emotional energy to keeping the patient in the game.

There is also another incentive for transplant centers which must, in all fairness, be acknowledged. The government requires centers to do a certain number of transplant surgeries a year to retain their transplant Medicare certification. The procedure itself costs hundreds of thousands of dollars.

One typical letter from a transplant center can look like this:

“…specific outcome requirements must be met by transplant centers as outlined by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services.  Programs are required to notify their patients if these requirements are not met.  Currently, Hospital X meets all requirements for transplant centers.”

There is a report by the Scientific Registry of Transplant Recipients (SRTR) which updates transplant statistics for all transplant programs. Anyone can look at the numbers.

This can become a point of pride and possibly some competition between centers. The older reference below is an example:

“Does Competition Among Transplant Centers Lead to Efficient Organ Allocation?” Scanlon D, Ubel PA, Loh E; Academy for Health Services Research and Health Policy. Meeting. Abstr Acad Health Serv Res Health Policy Meet. 2001; 18: 17. Short answer is-probably not, rather leads to inappropriate listing.

This means that an ethics consultation would be a good idea in many complicated organ transplant cases. The University of Washington has a “4 Boxes” tool that I used as a guide for years. The contextual features box merits close examination.

Anyhow, the patient who outright refuses transplant presents the transplant team with a singular question. Does this patient want to die? Usually that triggers a call to the psychiatric consultant. My role as an interdisciplinary collaborator was to focus on identifying psychosocial challenges to address in order to maximize postoperative chances of successful outcomes. That sentence was from the team’s perspective. However, my real goal was to listen to the patient and try to understand. In fact, I had a dual role. My main role, from the point of view of the transplant team, was to enhance the suitability of the patient for transplant—from a psychiatric standpoint.

It was never that easy, especially when the patient didn’t want a transplant. Suitability was out the window. Also, there are more or less discrete phases of transplant.

The Evaluation Phase in which the patient is usually very sick, faced with a terminal illness, and eager to be transplanted.

The Waiting for Donor Phase, often a very stressful time, frequently marked by demoralization as others get transplanted sooner.

The Surgery and Postop Course Phase, which could be marked by difficulty accepting the new organ, fantasies about the life and death of the donor, and fear that one will take on the traits or identity of the donor.

Prior to coming up on the wait list, some factors which may influence transplant refusal:

  • Depression or grief
  • Denial
  • Delirium and dementia
  • Fear of transplant surgery or negative past experiences with surgeries
  • Concerns about postop quality of life
  • Ambivalence about surgery and/or survival
  • Acceptance of inevitability of death
    • Frierson, R. L., J. B. Tabler, et al. (1990). “Patients who refuse heart transplantation.” J Heart Transplant 9(4): 385-91.

Ambivalence is one factor that has been studied. It has been described as the tension between the wish for an extended life for which transplant holds out a promise as contrasted with the:

  • Need to confront the desperate seriousness of their situation
  • Need to fathom undergoing an operation which will remove the very organ physically and symbolically sustaining life
  • Need to accept postop quality of life that could be less than acceptable because of the amount of suffering it could inflict
    • Difficulty facing seriousness of situation
    • Fear of the surgery
    • Quality of life concerns

The tasks for the patients:

  • Realize they have a terminal illness
  • Accept the idea that a transplant is necessary to preserve life
  • Endure the uncertainty about acceptance or rejection for transplantation
  • Assimilate an enormous amount of information in a short period of time
  • Emotionally reinvest in the possibility of an extension of their lives

Even the normal person feels, as it were, two souls in his breast.”

E. Bleuler

How would this be addressed in a busy transplant center intent on saving lives and retaining certification?

Ironically, by acknowledging that refusal of transplant is an acceptable choice. Ambivalence is not necessarily a sign of mental illness. It’s probably fine to avoid trying to talk the patient into going ahead with the transplant. You can see that the psychiatric consultant is supposed to be the advocate for the patient, not necessarily always for the transplant team.

Try to help the transplant team tolerate their own emotional turmoil as well as the patient’s. Try to create a space in which the transplant team can debrief and grieve those “who choose not to be saved.”

  • Frierson, R.L., et al., Patients who refuse heart transplantation. J Heart Transplant, 1990. 9(4): p. 385-91.
  • Kuhn, W.F., B. Myers, and M.H. Davis, Ambivalence in cardiac transplantation candidates. Int J Psychiatry Med, 1988. 18(4): p. 305-14.

Stay in the chair.

Get This Book: Every Deep-Drawn Breath

I just got Wes Ely’s new book, Every Deep-Drawn Breath. You do need to buy this book to learn about delirium, Post-Intensive Care Syndrome (PICS) and what Dr. Ely and colleagues are doing to prevent it. PICS is a syndrome patients suffer after being hospitalized with severe medical illness in critical care units. It includes impairments in cognitive skills (impaired executive functioning), emotional functioning (depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder), and physical function (weakness, myopathy, and neuropathy). 

Reading the prologue and first chapter reminded me of my early years in medical school and residency. It also reminded me of my frustrations when I was working as a psychiatric consultant trying to teach my colleagues about delirium, which a large percentage of patients suffer in the intensive care unit (ICU). I retired a little over a year ago.

Dr. Ely’s book also reminded me that I wrote an article about delirium 10 years ago, which was published in Psychiatric Times. I can still find it on line. The title is “Psychiatrists Can Help Prevent Delirium.” Prevention is the key because once delirium sets in, the challenge to offset the neurocognitive impairment becomes far greater.

A couple of years before I wrote it, I had tried working in private practice in Wisconsin. Aside from gaining weight from the good food there, I didn’t adjust well and quickly returned to Iowa City. I did make a consultation visit to a primary care clinic where I worked, which was a welcome surprised to the clinician who asked for help. You can take the psychiatric consultant out of the hospital, but you can’t take the hospital out of the psychiatric consultant.

I also met Dr. Ely around that time as well, because I kidded him about what he wrote in another book, Delirium in Critical Care (2011). There was a couple of paragraphs in a section called “Psychiatrists and delirium.” I’m going to risk somebody rapping my knuckles about copyright rules, but I’ll quote the sentence that usually made me chuckle: “Should we, or should we not, call the psychiatrist? Can we replace them with a screening tool and then use haloperidol freely?”

I think that was meant to be funny—and it was in an ironic way. Every psychiatric consultant knows that the main treatment for delirium is not haloperidol, but treating the underlying medical illnesses. Anyway, I poked a little fun at that book section in a blog post (which I no longer have, called “The Practical Psychosomaticist”) and shortly thereafter, he emailed me, asking me to write a few posts highlighting the serious and important research he and others were conducting about delirium. I learned a lot.

Eventually, I actually met Dr. Ely, at meeting of the American Delirium Society in Indianapolis. I respect and admire him. He’s a brilliant doctor and a caring man. And you should buy his book.