Thursday, October 27, 2005
Case Study 33 year old woman, spanish speaking, undocumented, great sense of humor calls early in the day. she works until 6:30pm washing cars so she's glad we are open until 7pm. She complains of right sided numbness and tingling, both arm and leg, for two days which is now beginning to improve. Later in the day, at the clinic, she presents as a jovial, slightly overwieght, intelligent woman, single mom with a six year old child. Her concern is clear - "am i having a stroke?" she starts by telling me that she felt so bad the day before she went to the public hospital ER. After 7 hours waiting, 6pm-1am, feeling worse, she went home "to die." of course she didn't die and after a thorough physical exam, reassuringly normal vital signs, a normal family history, and no strong risk factors, it was clear her symptoms were of a myofascial pain symdrome, not vascular disease. I let her know she was lucky that she left the ER. they probably would have done too many blood tests, a CT scan of her head, EKG and charged her $1-2 thousand for the workup. as a single mom washing cars all day, the last thing she needs is a bill for 3-4 months of her yearly income. So we talked about her job and it turns out she just transferred two weeks earlier to a busier location where she doesn't even have a break of 15 minutes for lunch. she drinks sodas all day for energy and downs an occasional greasy burrito. at home she doesn't have enough energy to make dinner so they do fast food. no time for stretching, for basic exercise, for play or dance. it's an untenable existance, an impossible paradox. the human body cannot sustain such rigor and stress for more than a few months before symptoms arise and eventual serious illness. not many options available. probably the only two important things i did were to reassure her she wasn't going to die from a stroke and to acknowledge her stressors (legitimize and humanize her experience of suffering as wrong). i tried recommending she and her car wash colleagues try to organize for a break or at least create a coverage system for each other, she didn't think it would be possible. i recommended massage as a vluable investment and offered her an appointment with our awesome massage therapist volunteer, Jennifer. (she's been massaging our patients for a few months now, every wednesday. it's a beautiful gift of hers to our patients. for many, it's the first massage experience in their lives, the first times they have let themselves physically relax, release stress, and enjoy the touch of a therapist. Thanks Jennifer!!). There is a story in this story that needs to be a driving force for health care reform. the way we practice medicine on uninsured patients is detrimental to their health. our protocols, our fear and lawsuit driven testing strategies shift huge cost onto these tired, ill individuals, those least able to suck it up. this happens with so many myofascial pain syndromes, from headaches to neck pain to chest pain to unilateral weakness, etc. the cost of the ER visit would pay for 1 years worth of appropriate massage/exercise, physical therapy, time off work, etc. and the ER visit doesn't even diagnose this kind of pain after all the tests since many docs don' touch their patients. this leaves the patient with the large bill, no education, no emphasis on healthy lifestyle modifications... how did we go so wrong? maybe it's just my local environment. i'll hope that's it.
posted by andru |
10/27/2005 07:04:00 PM |
(2) comments
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Thursday, October 13, 2005
The Grace of a Late Payment
a few months ago I took care of a young man with pneumonia. he was quite sick, with moderate dehydration. he had a history of IVDU (using intravenous drugs) and was Hepatitis C positive. the man was now hard working in the construction business, a day laborer, a devout Christian, and sober. he showed up at the clinic when we were closed and I happened to be there, trying to finish some administrative chores. he looked awful. I started an IV, gave him 3 liters of fluids and IV antibiotics and advice to return the next day for follow-up. he came in once more two days later and got another shot of IM antibiotics and then a sample of some strong antibiotic pills for 10 days. at that point he disappeared, still owing me about $50 for all the treatments. a week ago, I was calling folks who owed some money and spoke with his brother. i left a message for him to call the clinic. this evening, consistent with the previous visit, he showed up after we were already closed. I almost didn’t recognize him since he looked healthy. he respectfully and humbly asked if we could talk for a moment and then i remembered who he was. he shared with me his story of the past few months. he is from Mexico and when he realized how bad the illness was, he decided to go home to rest and recover. he was worried that he might get worse and wind up in the hospital, which would have cost him too much here. once home, it took him a few weeks to recover from the pneumonia. then he had to get back to the U.S. which cost him ALOT of money at the border for safe passage. he was back at work and embarrassed that he still owed me money. when he finally saw his brother today and got the message, he came right over to apologize and let me know his intention to pay the balance. I’ve touched on this before but will say it again here. in the year we’ve been up and running, we have probably “given away” about $700.00 in free care from folks who don’t or cannot pay. that’s out of approximately $35,000.00 in revenue working with mostly poor uninsured immigrants, students and artists. that’s 2% loss. it feels frustrating when you do a good job caring for someone and the person walks away without sharing some kind of fair exchange. but as practitioners we have to really make a decision – do we get all tight and wound up and freaked out and angry and make a mountain out of a mole-hill? or do we appreciate the many beautiful , graceful moments that happen with the majority of our patients, who even in their difficult financial struggles, act with integrity? I don’t want to be angry or mean to the small handful of patients who disrespect me. I won’t give them that power. Likely they are wounded and frustrated people. what disturbs me is that this personal choice to act with anger or compassion gets translated into social policy and whole systems that are supposed to be part of the “safety-net” wind up operating on the punishment mentality. Using stereotypes based on the actions of a tiny minority of manipulative patients, entire philosophies are born that wind up trapping people of integrity with lesser means into hostile payment systems and prejudicial thinking. this is cynical. we all know there are criminals, upper class and lower class, who take advantage, who manipulate. we know that anyone can abuse the generosity of another. being alive is a continuous struggle to renew, to refresh, to shed old tight skin, to breath deeply every now and then and realize that if I have enough, then I can share, then I can relax. Don’t get me wrong, I respect cynical people, I’ve been one before and I periodically slide over the line. Life can bite hard. But the goal is to not stay there too long, to let yourself soften, let love and laughter and food and play soften our hearts and open again. As I relax into this non-institutional health clinic, I am amazed almost daily by the glimpses and vistas of grace that people exhibit when they are treated with respect. I often hear people sigh after a visit and say that they were at the end of their rope, that they had lost almost all confidence in doctors, in medicine. I’m not sure if it is really my intention to revive that hope since the system is so corrupt, but I think I understand what is really being said – it’s not about medicine or doctors, it’s about humans caring for humans. it’s about people with professional training acting like people and not machines behind thick walls and desks and 5 minute time limits and frustrating nonsensical narrow perspectives, etc… the moral of this story is that a few scoundrels aren’t going to stop me from appreciating the grand beauty of so many of my patients. andru
posted by andru |
10/13/2005 09:54:00 PM |
(0) comments
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cure this! |
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We've MOVED! and grown!
Join us at Cure This!...
...where we invite you to create a user account, read, comment, write your own posts. Let's discuss health in its broadest sense, share personal stories, creatively make positive change, and build an online community along the way...
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what's "to the teeth"? |
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To the Teeth is a weblog discussing issues of health justice, medicine, race in America,
public health in its broadest sense, healthcare at a local clinic level, and honest discussions around strategies in advocacy. Ok, so it's not so focused, but it's all connected. The regulars who post to this site are:
Anjali Taneja, a resident physician in Family Medicine at Harbor-UCLA in Los Angeles,
California (a recent transplant from the east coast). She also blogs at Los Anjalis and the
Harbor-UCLA Family Medicine Residency blog. She's on the national leadership of the National Physicians Alliance and previously worked as the Jack Rutledge Fellow for Universal Health Care
& Eliminating Health Disparities at AMSA. She dj'ed for several years with the
M U T I N Y dj crew and currently DJs and produces electronic music. (email: movement-at-gmail-dot-com)
and Andru Ziwasimon, a family medicine physician in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and a lead member of the Community Coalition for
Healthcare Access, a diverse group of providers/patients/advocates addressing access issues with the state hospital system, translation and interpretation issues, billing for under and uninsured patients, and other disparities locally.
He created and runs a sustainable and innovative clinic that serves
uninsured patients with quality care and fair prices. He also serves on the leadership of the National Physicians Alliance. (email: aziwa-at-null-dot-net)
and Sri Shamasunder, a resident physician in Internal Medicine at Harbor-UCLA in Los Angeles, CA. He's passionate
about health justice, good music, and spoken word/poetry. (email: elsrizee-at-yahoo-dot-com)
"to the teeth" (idiom):
-> in opposition; directly to one's face
-> completely, fully
-> title of a song by Ani Difranco
-> alotta alliteration
For them RSS lovers (more about rss here), here's the atom site feed for To the Teeth.
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hot links |
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Inspiring spoken word from Poetic License
Conversation: Growing up in the Shadow of Chemical Pollution - Michigan and Bhopal
Missing: Minorities in the Health Professions
Angell: The Truth about Drug Companies
Wonderful animation on procrastination!
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dope orgs/sites |
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National Physicians Alliance
American Medical Student Association
The Peoples' Institute
Alternet
The Policy Action Network
The Principles Project
Common Dreams
No Free Lunch campaign
Kaiser Family Foundation
Families USA
Consumer Project on Technology
Campaign for a National Health Progam NOW
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to the teeth archives |
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12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003
01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003
02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003
04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003
05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003
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09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003
10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003
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10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005
05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005
06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005
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12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007
01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007
02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007
03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007
07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007
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poem: history |
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They caught the peasant walking home from the field.
On the dark road they gagged him and cut off his nose.
This they took to the museum and stuck to the king's noseless statue.
Thus was born the history that is taught in schools.
- Amitava Kumar, "History"
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Willing to Fight |
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From Ani Difranco's "Willing to Fight":
"'cause i know the biggest crime
is just to throw up your hands
say
this has nothing to do with me
i just want to live as comfortably as i can
you got to look outside your eyes
you got to think outside your brain
you got to walk outside you life
to where the neighborhood changes"
Excerpts of lyrics to Ani Difranco's poem "Self-evident" (hear her recite this poem on her official website:
yes,
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation...
here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore
here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of oklahoma city
just to listen to a young woman's voice
here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream
cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
i mean
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks
and boy did he ever
and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 george w. bush is not president
#2 america is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz i am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
i've got no room for a lie so verbose
i'm looking out over my whole human family
and i'm raising my glass in a toast
here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
i dream of touring like duke ellington
in my own railroad car
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face
give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll...
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subcity |
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Lyrics from Tracy Chapman's "Subcity"
People say it doesn't exist
'Cause no one would like to admit
That there is a city underground
Where people live everyday
Off the waste and decay
Off the discards of their fellow man
Here in subcity life is hard
We can't receive any government relief
I'd like to please give Mr. President my honest regards
For disregarding me
They say there's too much crime in these city streets
My sentiments exactly
Government and big business hold the purse strings
When I worked I worked in the factories
I'm at the mercy of the world
I guess I'm lucky to be alive
They say we've fallen through the cracks
They say the system works
But we won't let it
Help
I guess they never stop to think
We might not just want handouts
But a way to make an honest living
Living this ain't living
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the revolution will not be televised |
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Lyrics from Gill Scott Heron's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised"
You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
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