[Medicine-for-people] Evolution of a Doctor

Douwe Rienstra medical at olympus.net
Thu Mar 6 11:24:42 PST 2008


==========================================
Medicine for People!

March, 2008
---------------------------------------

Contents
Evolution of a Doctor
  - "We Loved Him Just the Way He Was"
  - Regrets and Objections
  - Finding Dr. Welby (Where You Wouldn't Expect)
  - The Kiss of the Spider Bite

==========================================

"In the measure to which I think and speak not from my own individual 
conviction but simply repeating what 'is said' and 'is thought' my 
life ceases to be mine, I cease to be the supremely individual person 
that I am, and I act on society's account."  Joes Ortega y Gasset (in 
my twenties, my favorite quotation)

=== Evolution of a Doctor ===

= "We Loved Him Just the Way He Was" =
I am a young medical student at Duke University observing a team of 
pediatric cardiologists in the cath lab.  A small, frightened child 
bawls.  Beside him the pediatric cardiologist sits patiently with his 
stethoscope on the tiny chest.  In the silence between the child's 
cries, he calmly describes the sounds made by this diseased heart. "A 
systolic  murmur, loudest at the base, probably from the aortic 
valve.  A constant murmur left back, probably a patent ductus 
arteriosus.  Some stenosis of the pulmonic valve."

I admire these pediatric cardiologists immensely, knowing I'll never 
attain their degree of skill.  These guys really are exceptional.

To pinpoint the defect, the doctors insert a catheter into the 
child's groin and thread it up to the heart, inject dye and take a 
very rapid succession of x-rays. The procession of film cassettes, 
each one a heavy metal frame holding a piece of X-ray film, sound 
like an airplane or a machine gun, a complicated loud chattering 
noise from two streams of film cassettes rattling down their metal 
tracks to the exposure points behind and beside the small patient.

With the clattering beating around us, all eyes focus on the various 
monitors.  Suddenly one monitor shows the heart rate dropping 
frighteningly, from 120 down to 80, to 60, then to nothing.  Pushing 
the equipment out of the way, six doctors bend over the tiny body, 
calling for medication, pressing on the little chest, and glancing at 
the line staggering across the monitor.  They work frantically to no 
avail.  Finally they give up.  The child is dead.

I walk out in the hall with the cardiology fellow, a woman, whose job 
it is to take the terrible news to the parents.  The mother is grief 
stricken.  She sobs in the hallway.

   "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ashton, but we did everything we could."
   "Why did you do it?  There was nothing wrong with him when you 
started."   She is wailing, her sobs echoing down the hall.
   "Please, Mrs. Ashton, not so loud.  His heart was diseased.  He 
couldn't play, or run.  Unless we discovered what was wrong and 
repaired his heart, he would never have grown up at all."
   "We loved him just the way he was, why did you have to do 
it?  There was nothing wrong with him, he was good the way he was"

I was used to seeing patients who stoically and without question 
accepted the doctor's wisdom; all this noise in the hallway surprised 
me and the cardiology fellow.  All that I admired in the cath lab - 
the impressive X-ray apparatus, the high tech skills, meant nothing 
to this mother.  As far as she was concerned, we'd killed her child.

In the past 30 years since I stood in the hall listening to the 
mother's loud sobbing and sensing dimly that the balance between 
technology and humanity was out of whack, medicine has changed and I 
have changed.  Sometimes people ask me how I came to be the 
independent-minded doctor that I am.  In this month's newsletter, I 
tell about my medical evolution, starting with my beginnings as a 
young, wide-eyed idealistic newly-minted doc.

= Regrets and Objections =
For some time after I graduated, I regretted having attended medical 
school.  True, the professors were usually dedicated and kind, but 
the system as a whole seemed lacking.

How it seemed to me in the early 1970's was this:

Doctor-centered medicine:  For all my professors' curiosity and 
attention to detail, they did not always listen to what the patient 
was saying or appreciate what the patient was going through.  Some 
people call this "medico-centrism," the idea that sick people eagerly 
await the doctor's next pronouncement and have nothing they'd rather 
do than agree and be grateful, regardless of any ill effects.

Over-emphasis on technology:  Here's an example.  I could tell from a 
physical exam when a patient had pneumonia, but I was supposed to 
order a chest X-ray and blood tests anyway.  Those tests can be 
lifesaving if a case is grave or complicated.  They are not necessary 
in many cases I saw and still see on a regular basis.  With my 
thrifty Dutch background, this lack of concern about cost to the 
patient bothered me.

Inaccessibility and arrogance:  My partner in Milwaukee made every 
patient who telephoned him at the office wait on the phone at least 
twenty minutes.  We had five lines and all five buttons on the phone 
were usually flashing with patients on hold waiting to talk to 
him.  Once on the phone, he spoke as if he had just come out of a 
burning building and had to go right back in again to save another 
life.  About once a week he felt like chatting, so he'd come into my 
office, sit down and, despite the flashing lights on the phone, the 
full exam rooms, the full waiting room, talk as if we were on the 
golf course and he had all the time in the world.  Whatever the 
reasons, doctors were in a hurry with patients, the result being an 
occasional missed diagnosis or ill considered treatment.  All the 
expensive tests could not make up for this.

Bias towards intervention:  Although the physiology classes in 
medical school touched on the body's natural healing systems, these 
were often ignored when it came to treatment.  In the delivery 
suites, for example, the process of birth was attacked as if the baby 
were an enemy who wasn't coming out without us going in after it.

Narrow-mindedness:  Mainstream medicine seemed arrogant.  My 
professors expressed the opinion that no other medical methods were 
worthwhile, yet as far as I could see they knew nothing about 
botanical medicine, Native American medicine, Chinese medicine, or 
anything outside their own narrow sphere.

Ignoring Self-Care:  In mainstream medicine little attention was paid 
to the health of the physician.  How, I wondered, could physicians 
help their patients with their mental and physical well-being when 
they paid so little attention to their own?  And patients asked in 
vain for advice on how to take of themselves.  Unless they were happy 
to pay to hear the doctor say "a healthy diet and more exercise," 
they were likely to be disappointed.

= Finding Dr Welby (Where You Wouldn't Expect) =
I came out of med school in the late 1960s, a time of reexamination 
of the previous generation's values and I was very much swept up in 
that rebellion.  My disillusionment outlined above led me away from 
medicine for a time.  I didn't want to use the cookbook given me in 
medical school.  If I couldn't be Dr Kildare, Ben Casey, or Marcus 
Welby, I'd sail off into the sunset instead.  You can read more about 
"The Long and Winding Road" in a previous 
newsletter  (http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007June.html).

By the time I came back to medicine, I had learned to meditate and 
found it valuable.  As Rabindranath Tagore writes, "The mind all 
logic is like the knife all blade. It cuts the hand that holds 
it."  For me, meditation was a wonderful handle.  Too, during my time 
off I'd done some reading about herbal medicine.  I took some courses 
in polarity therapy, an early combination of Ayurvedic medicine and 
touch therapy.  To my amazement, much of this had some beneficial 
effect, even for serious problems such as asthma.  My friend Fritz 
Smith, MD, who practiced acupuncture, collaborated with me.  He had 
developed his own technique of bodywork called Zero Balancing 
(http://www.zerobalancing.com/) and taught that to me.  One evening 
in the hospital, a nurse complained about a severe back-ache.  In a 
treatment room I gave her a five minute treatment that totally 
relieved her back pain.

At the same time, I discovered a joy in using the skills I had 
learned in my training.  I might not be Dr Welby, but I could do what 
was possible and bring comfort.  I was drunk, both on  conventional 
medicine and on all the new things I was learning.  Rejuvenated, I 
recognized the rough jewel I had been given at Duke Medical School.

  = The Kiss of the Spider Bite =
There was one major problem.  The docs who hired me to join their 
practice were not similarly enthused.  While one seemed interested in 
acupuncture and meditation, he thought I went overboard to recommend 
it to patients instead of anti-depressants or Valium.  When I gave 
patients unconventional advice, they weren't happy.

I remember one woman who came in with a red spot on her forearm.  I 
questioned her, examined it, and told her that she had a spider 
bite.  No worries, there was nothing we needed to do.  It would go 
away on its own.  She got angry and said "You mean I came in here and 
paid for your office call, and you're not going to give me any 
treatment?"  I looked at her, I looked the bite, and I lifted her arm 
up and kissed the bite.  Now, in this day of HIV and gloves on all 
the time, I know that sounds nearly suicidal.  Back in those days, 
however, while we wore gloves for surgery, we didn't have all the 
infection control practices we have now.  Anyway, the patient 
laughed, as I recall, and seemed content.

Another time, a woman had a mild vaginitis.  There was no evidence of 
infection, so I recommended a comfrey douche, something I'd seen work 
most of the time. She didn't have any access to comfrey, so I gave 
her my address and suggested she stop by and ask my wife to give her 
some from our garden.

A day later the senior doc in the group called me into his office and 
fired me.  He'd heard about me kissing the spider-bite, he was 
unhappy with my practice in general, and he was incensed that I had 
some teenager out at my house practicing gynecologic medicine without 
a license.

Now, there was a simple explanation, but it took me a day or two to 
piece together what had happened.  My wife and I were quite taken 
with meditation, so much so that we occasionally provided room and 
board for the local teachers and let them use our house as a 
meditation center.  They had helpers to check the meditation practice 
of those who had learned.  Having no study or other private rooms in 
our house, they used a bedroom to teach and to check meditation.  One 
of those young helpers was checking meditation on the day my patient 
stopped by for her comfrey.  She arrived to find the front door open 
and some people sitting on the couch, so she sat down too.  The 
helper finished checking one meditator's meditation, walked her out 
from the bedroom, then beckoned to my patient, saying "come in, let 
me check you."  The patient, by now probably wondering if a simple 
medical consultation had run seriously off the tracks, concluded the 
young man wanted to give her a pelvic exam in the bedroom.  He looked 
about 18 years old, and she'd already had one today, thank you very 
much, and what the hell was going on here.  She drove back to the 
office to explode about all this to the senior doc.

Hence my getting fired.

As it happened, a month later my senior colleague had a heart attack; 
they called me up and asked if I'd come back to work.  Within days I 
was back to practicing medicine - my way, not theirs.

This newsletter has already exceeded our usual length, so let's leave 
our story in Watsonville, California in 1975.  Next month I'll share 
some more about my voyage though the jungles of alternative medicine, 
and how I came to the views and practices I use today.

==========================================

=== Recent issues of Medicine for People! ===
February, 2008  Diagnostic Testing; Healthy Lifestyle Support Group 
http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2008/2008February.html
January, 2008  Love Your Colon; Honor Your Anus 
http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2008/2008January.html
December, 2007  What I Learned in 
Jail  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007December.html
November, 2007  How to Talk to your Doctor, Winter and Vitamin D, 
Mercury-free Flu 
Vaccine  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007November.html
October, 2007  What is Science, Colon Cancer Screening 
Update  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007October.html
September, 2007  Perscription Medicines: When to Use them, When to 
Lose Them  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007September.html
August, 2007  Resist the Hype, Summer 
Scrapes  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007August.html
July, 2007  Annual Pharmacy Update, Free Pharmaceuticals, Medicine 
Far >From Home http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/2007/2007July.html

==========================================

=== Reader Alert ===
We publish this newsletter monthly.  If you do not receive every 
issue, your spam filter may be intercepting it.  Please add us to 
your email "accept list."

==========================================

Medicine for People! is written by Douwe Rienstra MD, edited by 
Carolyn Latteier, and published at Port Townsend, Washington. 
Copyright March, 2008.

To subscribe, click 
here:  http://lists.olympus.net/mailman/listinfo/medicine-for-people
To change your email addresss, go 
to  http://lists.olympus.net/mailman/listinfo/medicine-for-people to 
subscribe using your new address. Unused addresses are removed automatically.
Click here: http://www.rienstraclinic.com/newsletter/archive.html for 
previous issues.
Write Dr Rienstra here: MedicineForPeople at RienstraClinic.com.
More information about the clinic:  http://www.rienstraclinic.com/







More information about the Medicine-for-people mailing list