Posts tagged #doctor-patient relationship

Nobody Asked

scales of justice.jpg

I asked an attorney friend of mine who teaches other lawyers about guardianship matters how I can write a letter to the judge about loose ends in a guardianship. Her reply was, "I wouldn't because it's done and nobody asked."

Well, the loose ends are that nobody asked. Law and justice sometimes interface with health care. Guardianship involves mental health, keeping up with medications, preventive health, and making crucial decisions in a hospital. Questions about health and health care cannot be left as loose ends at the time of judgment. People who need guardians by definition are marginalized and more often than not have serious health issues around which they themselves cannot self-advocate. The average observer holding the scales of justice is blindfolded to the medical issues.

I left the courtroom at 60 Center Street, specifically room 355, officially ambiguious. There was the former doctor sitting behind me who had been dismissed for failing to provide nursing care to a pressure ulcer for one year, failing to communicate with a health care agent, failing to tell everyone that the skin cancer she scraped off was still in the skin and would come back, and failing to give the flu vaccine to an old bed bound person. It was official in the court record that she could visit the patient as a friend because the old bed bound person, a ward of the court, likes her so much. I also heard say the judge that the current doctor should be replaced with an "independent" physician but no such “independent” physician was identified in courtroom 355 on Friday at 4 pm.  Neither was the appointed guardian in the courtroom. Only five lawyers could raise their hands and asked for "specific language in the settlement" and "clarification about a co-guardian," advocating for their clients. Left loose and off the record was a provision for health care on Friday at 4 pm. I have been providing her health care 24 hours no matter business, lunch or after hours, but I wasn't given the last name or phone number of the guardian. I know him as "cousin Sam." The most I could do was to give my card to "cousin Sam's" attorney, but she didn't give me hers. My patient's appointed attorney took my card, but said she didn't need to know me the reason being that she is the old bed bound person's lawyer and apparently not her advocate. 

I woke up Friday night with a nightmare that my bed bound patient who has no fat padding rolled out of bed on to the linoleum with an INR of 3.4 and the home health aide called for blood on the floor, but it was only a dream that I could not notify “cousin Sam” that I had sent her to the nearest ER unconscious or that I had sent a fax of her medical conditions and lab report to the hospital. What isn't a dream is that tomorrow while the guardian and his attorney might have time to take up the search for an "independent" home visit physician during business hours, the nurse coming to do wound care will have run out of the state of the art wound care supplies for the bedsore and the ambiguously current geriatric care manager has no access to funds to order more of them and she doesn't know the guardian either.. And if the guardian and his attorney haven't found an "independent" home visit physician a week from now, the seven-day-four-slot pill box with mission critical medications will be empty and the home health aide won't be able to cue the bed bound patient that it’s time for the before breakfast pill, the after breakfast pill and the after dinner pill too.

The official court record does omit addressing if everyone who has an ethical obligation to stay involved has adequate access to everything that they need to meet the 24 hour needs of the bed bound person. The official court record says that the former physician can come over to play chess because the patient requested that, but "nobody asked" if the ambiguously current physician and new guardian know how to contact each other. Justice sees the guardianship as “done” while medicine sees the ward of the court as being invisible to the blindfolded.

Posted on October 12, 2015 .

Rose died with all of her marbles

Rose died today with all her marbles. Anyone who knew her can hear her say it with that hard-to-place European accent. "I've got all my marbles," as she pointed to her temple with a wink. Metaphoric marbles are a point of competitive pride with anyone over ninety, but hardly anyone who is 94 and six months gets so lucky as to die with all of them. Rose was in a coma or near coma for only the last 16 hours of her life, but that and morphine don't count for lost marbles because earlier this week she told me the date of her granddaughter's husband's annual colonoscopy as if she simply had to keep track of it for him. The day before today she told me her sweater was cashmere and gave me exacting instructions on how she washed and ironed it in order to keep it looking like new for the last 10 years.

I met Rose in 2009 when her primary care physician left the area and her pulmonologist referred her to me. At the first visit I was tested. She asked about why she needed to take medications if she didn't have the illness to go with them. She couldn't make sense of why one doctor prescribed a diuretic and another switched it to a different one without explanation.. She wanted to know how smart I was and to find out if I would attribute her concerns to "old age." She treated the first office visit like a first date and sized me up to see if we had longevity potential.

Rose wasn't going to be one of those people who leave the last choices of her life up to others. This was between her and me minute by minute. Besides reminding everyone that "when it’s your time, it’s your time," she carefully left her sons out of explicit acknowledgment of prognosis. She didn't ask me for prognosis either, but instead read my face for silent information, the same way I read hers for how much moral and mental energy she had left to get through the irreversible deterioration of her physical being. I can't recall ever seeing a body die day by day for weeks without losing any marbles despite worsening in the number of things that doctors measure. Rose and I had a secret language. I can't trace the origins of it, but it got us through at least four health crises with return to quality of life. What is a doctor if not a partner during life and near misses?

Rose died hours after a quick bed bath and change of night gown because all three of us who were there knew the morning routine. She died under her daughter-in-law's purple-turquoise hand knit cashmere throw. Before her sons arrived her companions giggled the secret story of Rose instructing them to practice Kegel exercises as her public service reminder to aging women everywhere. Practice makes perfect to prevent incontinence. The granola-baking granddaughter was there to repay mothering with a song of love. Another daughter-in-law physician accepted responsibility for titrating morphine to life without symptoms. I was with Rose almost every day in the last two weeks as her body deteriorated and despite the symptoms, eye to eye we both pointed our finger to our temple and said the word "marbles."

Posted on December 24, 2014 and filed under Death at home.

Dr. Odd and Ms. Vulnerable take on UnitedHealthcare

On Wednesday I was called by a representative of Ruth's insurance company, UnitedHealthcare, to request lab results. Yes, her health insurance company wanted in. They wanted to look at the control of her diabetes with no context of our private discussions about her diabetes. Apparently, UnitedHealthcare is on a parallel track to reach some lab goals on paper for a woman who is 90 years old. Ruth and I have our own goals for her health. A nameless, woman wanted to send a written request for specific labs, she emphatically claimed that Ruth signed a paper authorizing permission for me to send the results. I told the anonymous representative of the mega-for-profit organization that it was unlikely that she was giving informed consent for them to get into the doctor-patient relationship, furthermore that if she had signed something, I would see that she revoked consent to send them anything. The person on the other end of the phone said, "You sound odd," and hung up.

I called Ruth and asked if she signed papers for me to send lab results to UnitedHealthcare and she said, "No."

Then Ruth and I reviewed the instructions which I had given her many times before after she let seemingly well-meaning people with no names into her home. Don't let anyone in your door without calling me or your step-son, and don't sign anything no matter how nice the person seems.

I said, "You are vulnerable old lady." "You think so?" she squealed. Then answered her own question giggling, "I guess I am!"

Within minutes of hanging up on Dr. "Odd", the anonymous representative of UnitedHealthcare called Ruth to invite herself for an apartment visit on Friday. Ruth initially said yes to the still nameless woman from UnitedHealthcare, but then remembered my instructions from five minutes earlier and called me back to get her phone number so she could cancel the reconnaissance mission. Ruth and I think that her health insurance company is crashing our doctor-patient relationship. I wonder what they can do to improve Ruth's health with just a number on paper and without knowing all the things I know about her.

Posted on November 8, 2014 .