Tag: healthcare

Us-Versus-Them

There is a weird dynamic that occurs in nearly every hospital setting around the country. It’s a hostile dynamic that seems to be older than time and almost hard-wired into everyone that partakes in this seemingly fruitless endeavor known as health care. It’s an Us-versus-Them dynamic which oddly enough seems to pit physicians against nurses.

“That doesn’t make sense. Aren’t they supposed to work together?”

Indeed.

I.

The tension is immediately palpable upon your first day of third year clerkships as a medical student. If you think back hard enough, maybe you can remember the first time you walked unto the floors, asked a nurse a question, and were met with either indifference or resentment. The interaction may have surprised you. It was just a routine question, wasn’t it? Maybe the nurse was having a bad day? Regardless, you continue to solider through in your ignorance while nervously seeing patients and hoping to not make an ass of yourself in front of the attending. However, inevitably, you must approach the nurses again to ask about/for something. You proceed in your seemingly mundane and innocent task but ultimately are still left with the impression that you serve no purpose but to be a pain in their collective asses. Occasionally, you will have interactions with the nurses that are pleasant. Just as there are a handful of surgery residents who do not harbor bitter resentment and rage towards every living thing, there are also nurses who make it a point to interact with the “lessers” as if they were human beings.  These interactions are few and far between though. By the end of your fourth year, you have a clear understanding of how things work; you know which train tracks not to cross. And this is just in time for you to begin your residency where you get to see things from a whole new perspective.

Intern year is where you begin to clearly see the divide. At this point in your medical career, you effectively know a lot about nothing. And the nurses know this. At this stage, you are going to screw up, a lot. Like, a lot a lot. You are going to be too conservative in some matters and then too liberal in others. You are going to hedge when talking with family members and give too much hope when there is none to be had. You are going to contradict the nurse, even if you do not intend too, and create tension. The nurses expect this. They have been through it all before. Some nurses may even be able to do your job better than you. But still, and despite this, they are obligated to follow whatever you haphazardly put into the chart; it is a life of Groundhog’s Day just with different actors. They may call you about it, clearly annoyed, and demand you fix it. Or other, more subversive, nurses will follow the order to the T. At this point, animosity often arises and becomes rather obvious even to the dimmest of bulbs. And how do the nurses best convey their frustrations? It’s not by direct confrontation; that is a big No-No as many nurses have often been burned in the past for these types of actions. Their weapon of choice: passive-aggression.

You know it when you see it, the nurses that have taken up their passive-aggressive arms. You will receive a thousand pages for stool softeners, electrolyte replacements, diet orders, Tylenol, anti-emetics, and narcotics. You will never be called doctor; in their eyes, you are a baby doctor that barely knows how to crawl and is always covered in shit. They will interrupt you on rounds to give “updates” that contradict the information you obtained, they will question every decision you make, and they often will “go up the chain” when they disagree with you until they get an answer they like. And they will do this all in the name of “patient advocacy” because it is the ultimate trump card; it is the equivalent of invoking God’s Will as the reason for your actions. And as this goes on, as the pages piles up, and as the years tick by, things may get a little better. Eventually, you become the senior resident and no longer have to field the majority of pages, you are not presenting during rounds, and you are officially higher up on that “chain” where you can have a final say. But the memory of the past still haunts you, it still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Again, there were nurses along the way that were decent, amiable, and easy to interact with, but their light has been extinguished by the mounds of shit which was otherwise known as your day-to-day. And as you near the end of your indentured servitude, filled with the ugly memories of your war days, you hold on to that world-view of “Us-versus-Them” as you transition into becoming the illustrious Attending.

As an attending, you are now addressed as “Doctor”. Much of the overt rudeness you may have experienced as a resident appears to have quickly disappeared. You are at least given the impression of having more respect. And right or wrong, sometimes you may even feel like you earned it, so now you make your move. When you receive a page or call from nursing regarding a less than pressing matter, you lash out, belittle, or demand further information and a call back before hanging up. You demand to be called “Doctor”. You have little or no regard for how the timing or placement of your orders may inconvenience the nursing staff and may even erupt in a fit of indignation when something was not done perfectly the first time. And the best part? Despite occasionally acting like an impetuous child, no one will call you on it. You are the boss! Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

But despite the fact that the nurses may not outright call you a flaming dick bag to your face, they sure as hell are seething about it when you are nowhere to be found. They hate how you respond to requests for orders or information, despite the fact that it is their job to make such requests. They brace for impact when they see your name on the chart and have likely bitched to various supervisors which ultimately have no power to make changes. They will likely still use their tried and true method of passive aggression on you, which will be irritating, but you are still in control. They know that. And they hate that. And that hatred, since it can’t be paid back, is paid forward. And the cycle continues.

II.

It may appear that I have put all of this on the nurses, that I have accused them of throwing the first stone. Let me assure you, I have not. I do not know if anyone will ever know who drew first blood in this seemingly endless war as this information is likely lost in time. If I had to wager a guess though, I would bet on the physicians as cause of the initial insult. Unlike the role of physician, residents have only been a fairly recent phenomenon. Back in “the day”, many physicians just did apprenticeships with anyone that would have them, regardless of any true credentials. There were no large, urban hospitals, health insurance reviews, M&M conferences, practice standards, malpractice, or even many legitimate treatments. Hell, nursing was not even a profession until the mid-1800s and seemingly in response to most nurses at the time being rowdy drunks and assholes. Seriously.  So taking this into account, I imagine that physicians may have had to be raging ass hats towards a certain percentage of the nursing staff to distract them from their gutter whiskey long enough to perform a task that could have potentially been life-saving. Or unwittingly tortuous. Back then, it was kind of hard to tell which it was. Assuming this to be correct, or close enough, this culture has seemingly persisted throughout the ages despite the unfortunate lack of alcohol and boxing matches currently allowed in modern hospitals. But now, the physicians are not just magically appearing “fully trained” and the nurses find themselves in a position of relative power during the physician’s formative years. Let the hazing begin!

But the origin of blame is not the point. Assigning blame in this eternal conflict only distracts from the more salient issue of why this system is even in place. What good comes from the perpetuation of the “Us-versus-Them” culture? Is it good for the patients? Is it good for the hospital? Answer: It’s good for the system.

III.

It’s all about control. As I have already elaborated on, you need to distract and demoralize those you intend to control in order to make them accept your command without question. This is especially true when the servants possess the power; you need to make sure they never use it. In our current system, the nurse resents the physician for built-in subservience and the physician resents the nurse because they seemingly make their job, and by extension, life more difficult. Both camps seem to be too caught up in the conveniently constructed struggle to notice that they have a mutual adversary: the patient.

It is no secret among the health care community that the vast majority of patients that are encountered in the hospital setting are nothing more than morbidly obese, cognitively impaired, adult-themed children that are hyper-focused on the irrelevant. These patients seek nothing more than narcotics and food and invariably complaint about both the speed in which they are acquired and the pleasure that is derived. I’ve had multiple patients come in unable to breath and demand a hamburger, mashed potatoes, and soda; I’ve offered them hospice with only a minimal amount of facetiousness. Sadly, they never take me up on it. Instead, they somehow find a way to survive their hospitalization with only a minimal number of aspiration events and are eventually released back into the wild to inevitably be re-admitted again.

These “patients” serve as the impetus for the eternal conflict. They are the initial reaction that sets off a cascade of events resulting in frustration. These are the patients that the nurse is constantly calling about narcotic orders, diet orders, non-compliance with treatment, need for frequent updates, and threats of leaving AMA. These are the patients that the doctor hears about ad-nauseam that lead to a full rage meter and broken pagers. It is these patients that serve as the kindling which ignites the fire that consumes any chance of decent working relationships. They are the central cog in the system’s design however their ignorance is so great that I doubt they even understand the role in which they play; the role of the unilateral rage generator.

No matter how horrible and ridiculous they may be, patients are untouchable, especially in this era of “Health care as Business” where they will soon be referred to solely as “customers”. Save for some likely isolated incidents, the nurses are not yelling back at the patients, they are not (rightfully) telling them to go fuck all the way off, and they are not refusing ridiculous requests. Similarly, most physicians will allow these patients to run right over them in an attempt to save time by avoiding conflict in the hopes of still obtaining that coveted “9 out of 10”. Sure, some of the really crazy ones get their Haldol levels replenished, but this is not the norm.

So, what happens with this rage? Well, as alluded to above, it bounces back and forth between the physician and nurses until all they can see is their respective disdain for each other. And this does not just happen once a day, this happens several times a day. The battle royale known as “physician vs nurse” is continually powered all to the delight of the system; we are nothing but dancing puppets.

But the system is not happy with just physicians and nurses pitted against each other. The system has set up redundant circuits of in-fighting. Have you ever seen the ICU and PCU nurses get along? Have you ever seen the PCU and general floor nurses get along? How about different physician subspecialties? One could answer “yes” to any of the above, but they could not truthfully claim that it is the norm.

IV.

Think about what could happen if physicians and nurses suddenly woke up one day and began to work together. What if we started to direct our energies away from tearing each other apart and instead focused those energies on demanding patient reform? What if those energies were directed towards the bureaucrats and administrators that set the arbitrary rules which seem to govern our lives? What if those frustrations and anger were directed towards the national health care debate in an attempt to bring to light the true issues which make health care expensive? What if instead of focusing on our own bickering when faced with irrational regulations, we simply provided a collective reply of “I prefer not to”?

But unfortunately, there are dilaudid orders to place and nurses to chew out. So I guess we’ll never know.

What about patient reform?

I.

Health care reform continues to remain a rather hot topic for those least-informed on the issue (read: Americans). This singular issue has effectively defined the Obama presidency and led to the development of his brain-child known as ObamaCare. While there are a fair number of good things that came from this (expanding coverage regardless of how shitty said coverage may be), there has also been a number of terrible things to come from this (VBP, bundle payments, Burwell, etc). The goal of this reform has explicitly been to decrease the cost of healthcare; everyone seems to ignore the asterisk at the end denoting the phrase “at healthcare’s expense”. I have already briefly touched on the reforms meant to penalize hospitals for failing to meet arbitrary quality improvement standards or patient satisfaction quotas. I have also touched on the change in payment plans, specifically bundle payments. All of these programs have one goal which is to gradually push more of the tab for treatment onto the hospitals, similar to pushing the cost back on a widget manufacturer for delivering a boat load of broken widgets. Nobody wants to pay for broken widgets, so why should the government? The problem with this though is that A) hospitals are not factories B) all the widgets were made somewhere else and C) a significant portion of those widgets are apathetically trying to break themselves. To bring it back to the widget factory, this is the equivalent of fining a factory for not fixing broken widgets they received involuntarily from some Indonesian sweat shop which were already programmed to self-destruct. This is our current health care system.

Patient compliance is one element of healthcare that seems to have been purposefully avoided. I say purposefully because throughout the medical community it is the biggest complaint among all physicians but somehow has rarely made it into the national conversation. For anyone that is not familiar with this term, patient compliance has to do with the patient actually listening and doing what we ask of them in order to better their own lives through treatment of their medical conditions. One may expect that if there is a person seeking out a professional opinion that could prolong their life that the said person would make it a point to… you know… follow that advice. You may expect that everyone, save for those overtly suicidal, would make it a point to actively preserve their own lives. You would be wrong. Depressingly wrong.

Let me provide you with some examples.

Exhibit A: Jon D

Jon is a young gentleman in his 20s with type 1 diabetes that decided at an early age he was going to have approximately zero shits to give. Ever. He is well-known throughout the hospital because he is admitted every 1-2 weeks, for the last 5 years, for diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) as he refuses to use insulin. Frequently, he is admitted to the ICU due to the severity of his DKA. Thousands of dollars are spent each hospitalization to provide him with IV insulin, fluids, electrolyte replacement, endocrine consultation, and nursing care. We get his glucose under control and provide him a stable insulin regimen. But after a few days, he comes right back to the hospital to repeat the entire episode again. He is what we in the biz call a “non-compliant patient”.

Exhibit B: Jamie Q

Jamie is a good, wholesome, middle-aged, Trump-voting, salt of the earth with type 2 diabetes. She has had diabetes for quite some time now, going on 30 years. She goes to the doctor but seems to not pay any attention. She gets her pills filled and remembers to take them less than half the time. Eventually, she requires insulin which she also avoids taking because needles suck and counting is complicated. After years of devout ignorance, she gradually loses a significant portion of her sight, has two heart attacks, a mild stroke, and one and a half feet removed from gangrene resulting from multiple diabetic foot ulcers after not wearing shoes. She is a frequent flyer in the hospital for various reasons and has been a patron of multiple different nursing facilities. She is a “non-compliant patient”. But hundreds of thousands of dollars later, Jamie does end up becoming compliant after being enrolled into a long-term care facility and having all of her medications administered to her after she becomes completely disabled from an additional stroke involving half her brain.

Exhibit C: Don K

Don is well-known to the ED staff. Don comes in multiple times a month for a variety of substance-related complications. Don loves his alcohol, he loves his cocaine, and he is starting to love his heroin. Don would be homeless if it was not for section 8 housing and a whole slew of other safety-net programs, Medicaid included. Don is not always admitted, sometimes he sobers up enough to leave belligerently from the ED, but he does find himself spending a few nights at the hospital several times a month with at least one of his problems being alcohol withdrawal. During his admissions, Don tries to refuse most care, complains endlessly about the quality of his meals, and makes it a point to leave the floor to go smoke several times a day. He is always discharged in “stable” condition. He is a “non-compliant patient”.

I could repeat the alphabet several times over with various examples of the “non-complaint” patient but I think the point is received: thousands, if not millions, of people want nothing to do with their own well-being.

“But why do you care? Isn’t that on them?”

I don’t care. At least, I don’t care that they make dumb decisions. Everyone makes dumb decisions. The human race is defined by dumb decisions. The problem is not the dumb decisions and lack of foresight; the problem is that I get penalized for their dumb decisions and lack of foresight. Their dumb decisions have greater consequences than just screwing themselves over. That’s why I care.

II.

Let us look back at value-based purchasing. I have already spent a fair amount of time discussing the insanity which is this terrible program. But in order to drive the point home further, we need to look at this push for “quality” through the filter of patient compliance. Let us start with re-admission rates.

One of the objectives that have been used as a means to determine “quality” has been to try and lower re-admission rates to the hospital. This objective has been established through a whole series of poor and inaccurate assumptions. These assumptions include but are not limited to: assuming that every patient makes every effort to improve their own health, assuming that physicians and hospitals have the power to stamp out effects of chronic and progressive diseases, assuming patients (baby boomers) are not consistently getting older and acquiring more chronic and incurable disease, assuming that patients are listening intently to everything we say and simply are not informed enough, assuming that physicians make it a point to not spend any time with patients purely out of a desire to get back to swimming in their money pools, and assuming that physicians are Jedi Masters able to wave their hands and fundamentally change patients for the better. Through these, and likely other, assumptions, CMS/HHS/Burwell have made it a point to punish hospitals if certain patients were to be re-admitted to any hospital within 30, and sometimes up to 90, days. These punishments are often financial and include limiting any further payments to the hospital for those encounters as they clearly should have been preventable with the fault laying squarely on the shoulders of the health care professionals. Hospitals and physician groups have invested a lot of money to try and bring this number down. But has it been effective?

Well, if you take Burwell for her word and refuse to look at her sources cited, the answer is yes. The number has objectively gone down. But what happens when you look at her sources? Well, the results seem less impressive. Prior to Obamacare, the re-admission rate was hovering around 19%. For the years after the Reckoning, the percent has hovered around 17-18%. WE DID IT! YES, WE CAN! This number seems to have been fairly stagnant since. But despite this miraculous change in re-admission rates (the view in which I assume Burwell takes), every hospital that I have any interaction with seems to be at near max capacity save for the rural hospitals that make it a point to transfer all their patients to larger hospitals.

Again, hospitals have invested millions of dollars in attempts to decrease readmission rates. We go through great lengths to provide patients with free medications, education for appropriate medication use, quick follow up appointments, nursing home placements (if needed), durable medical equipment at home, home health care, and even assist with applications for Medicaid. But despite all of this, many of these patients keep coming back. What are we supposed to do?

III.

Well, the answer seems rather simple, assuming you are not a physician. According to a number of paper monkeys (Ph.D’s), the solution to the problem involves simply talking to the patient. I can safely assume they have never spoken to a patient.

Kaplan and Co (NEJM 11/2016) dedicate an entire article to poor assumptions and made up calculations. They use two different chronic diseases, CKD and diabetes, to demonstrate how “talking” can add value. In the setting of worsening CKD (chronic kidney disease) and impending need for dialysis, our Ivory Tower colleagues cite the use of temporary tunneled dialysis catheters for the initiation of dialysis as a failure of nephrologists to adequately discuss fistula placement with patients due to their high patient volume (more on this later). They claim that $200 in patient discussion (a completely made up number) can save $20,000 over six months in catheter insertion and potential complications. In regard to diabetes management, it is suggested that the only reason why patients are non-compliant with their insulin therapy is that the physicians and other staff did not spend enough time explaining the importance of the medication or appropriately address the patient’s concerns. Never mind the fact that most of these patients were non-compliant with pills for several years before insulin was ever on the table.  In addition, it should be noted that a large number of uncontrolled diabetics often progress to end-stage renal disease. So, that same patient population that was non-compliant with pills, that you are supposed to convince to use their insulin, will end up establishing with a nephrologist and somehow be expected to be convinced to drop their impenetrable ignorance barrier and replace it with proactive insight.

A girl can dream.

In this same article, Kaplan and Friends continues down the road of unsubstantiated claims without even an attempt at citing relevant sources. “Several studies” apparently show that the more time you spend with patients the more compliant they are. It is interesting that despite there being “several”, they cannot be bothered to simply cite one. He eventually does go on to cite an article showing increased conversations with family, patients, and treatment teams of “high risk geriatric” patients had positive effects such as decreased cost and higher quality of life. However, if you take the ten seconds to look at his sources, the article he cites is from a study involving metastatic lung cancer patients. Although technically they can be “high risk geriatric” patients, this is extremely misleading to the point of blatant deception. Kaplan suggests increasing uses of phone calls, electronic communications, and greater office staff involvement of reminding and encouraging with the estimate costs of these changes in the “tens to hundreds” of dollars. Again, there is still no word on exactly how these magical calculations were made, but you should just accept it as fact. Lastly, we are presented with “real life” examples of how certain health care organizations are getting it right. Kaplan makes it a point to show how the time and money spent by Kaiser Permanente for “high need” Medicare beneficiaries was able to decrease their hospital costs and how weekly meetings of physicians in the M.D Anderson Cancer Center to discuss new patients has supposedly led to better patient care. What he fails to mention, but is obvious to most exposed to this article, is that these two organizations are behemoths with deep pockets. Not to mention, Kaiser is an organization with a huge network for which they can easily adjust costs and M.D Anderson is a cancer hospital that only has to meet and discuss things relevant to cancer. Good luck getting a group of specialists to sit down for a lengthy, non-reimbursable discussion about every diabetic with hypertension, morbid obesity, and renal dysfunction.

IV.

Let us ignore reality for a moment. Let us hold hands with our Ph.D friends above and jump into the world of make-believe. Let us assume that all a patient needs are more “Go Get’Em’s”, back pats, and words of encouragement before they see the light and dutifully take their medications and listen. Where is all this time going to come from?

There seems to be some weird misconception that by doing away with fee-for-service that you are somehow lightening the physician load and allowing them to spend more “quality time” with patients. As I have already tried to make clear, the new system of bundled payments does nothing of the sort. In this new age, where you will be paid a set amount with adjustments (read: deductions) made for “quality”, you are incentivized (read: required) to see a larger number of patients in a day; the nephrologist from before is not being rewarded for spending more quality time. As some may point out, there are ways in which to bill for time spent conversing with patients, however these codes are infrequently used and do not sufficiently reimburse for the time spent. Furthermore, exiting the exam room does not end the time spent with the patient. In our modern era of instant gratification, a barrage of electronic messages or phone calls come in daily from multiple patients a day. Some of these are simple medication refills or FYIs, but a large number of them tend to be things we need to spend at least a little time on. And again, sometimes these communications are billable (by some insurance companies) but the catch is that you often do not have time to bill for them as you are too busy dealing with everything else in a day. Or worse, you are too intimidated to bill for these encounters as you may bill incorrectly and be fined for over-billing. It’s interesting how no one really cares too much if you under-bill though, except the office manager, so you are screwed either way.

“So, are you just in it for the money?”

No, but I would like to be reimbursed for my time. Wouldn’t you? Or is the act of working overtime a reward unto itself?

V.

“Ok, so, how do we fix it? You spent a lot of time complaining but do you have any solutions?”

I do. But you won’t like them.

As physicians, the first thing we need to do is stop being cowards. I know this is hard, given our propensity for cowardice, but we need to speak truth to stupidity. Those patient examples given above, the reality of the situation, needs to come to the forefront of the conversation. We need to quit sweeping it under the rug and start to hold people accountable for their actions. We cannot control the actions of others, no matter how persuasive we are expected to be, and we cannot be expected to serve as parents for an entire country of overgrown children. They should learn to wipe their own ass or get used to smelling like shit.

Second, we need to shun and banish those that attempt to guilt or shame us in order to distract us from the truth. Let us go back to Kaplan. The following quote is a perfect example of what I mean.

“Clinicians who are reimbursed under new value-based payment plans should seize the initiative to determine how much of their valuable time should be spent in the various types of productive conversations, especially as they become more accountable for their results”

Pay close attention to the wording and its insidious meaning. At first glance, this could be seen as inspirational; it’s a call to arms for improving health care. But upon further inspection, you can see that this statement is based on several faulty and dangerous assumptions. For starters, the assumption that the new value-based payment system creates a nurturing environment for these time initiatives is clearly wrong; the very use of the word “initiative” implies a degree of freedom and self-direction which is entirely absent. These “initiatives” are mandates which serve as nothing more than unobtainable objectives that are made unobtainable by rules being created by those enforcing the mandates. It is impossible to spend more time with patients when you are forced to see an increasing number of patients in a day for dwindling returns. But more importantly, even if you find a way to take that extra time, there is no guarantee that it will pay off. This game is set up to maximize failure; the house always wins. They win at our expense.

But why do we allow this to go on? I am sure I am not the only one that has noticed what is going on. I can’t be. That would be insane.

We allow it to happen because we have internalized a deep sense of guilt evident by the last part of the quote which is utilized to invoke that particular sentiment:

“as [physicians] become more accountable for their results”

We are accountable. We are accountable for every action a patient takes, or doesn’t take, and we are accountable for the result. We are accountable for not explaining things appropriately, regardless of how much time we take. We are accountable for their bad outcomes. If only we could find a way to get through to them, if only we could take more time out of our day to communicate more effectively, if only…. This is the line of thought that we are being fed and expected to internalize. It is not their problem, it is ours. This is the chain around your neck, attached to an anchor, threatening to drown you. Your options are to break the chains or hold your breath. Which do you choose?

V.

“So, we need to grow a pair and stop feeling guilty? That’s it?”

It’s a start. But remember, the system does not like change, especially change which could be bad for the system. Even more importantly, the system is not being run by physicians but by patients. Think about it. How much gray hair resides in your state congress? In the federal congress? Everyone with gray hair is, or has been, a patient at some point. Do you really believe that patients are going to make changes to health care that could negatively impact them by holding them accountable for their actions? Do you think career politicians are going to risk upsetting a sizable chunk of their constituents by advocating for policies that may make them work harder or incur some financial penalty? The answer is obvious: sacrifice the minority to appease the masses. The problem with this simple calculation though is that it ignores the amount of power that the minority possesses. Thankfully, the system has done an excellent job in ensuring that same minority remains ignorant of its own power.

And this is why we will not have to worry about patient reform.

Doctors are Cowards

I was told this by a patient once. I guess they thought this would be a revelation for me. Cute.

I made it a mission to indoctrinate upcoming medical students with this and various other rules which I called “The Truths of Medicine”. I hope that one day this will be obsolete. Or canonized.

“But that’s a pretty cynical view of physicians, isn’t it? We aren’t cowards!”

Keep telling yourself that.

“But why are doctors cowards?”

Think about what it takes to become a physician. Think of the mindset that is required, the time that it demands, and the amount of delayed gratification it takes (some would say a life time…). You spend two or more decades in schooling (grade school through medical school). Your life is nothing more than jumping through academic hoops, checking boxes, and performing activities that ultimately have little bearing on what you will do later in life. It all seems arbitrary but there is a reason to the madness. It is conditioning.

In order to make a “good” physician, you have to think about what it would take to make a good slave. You have to keep their focus narrow. You have to overwhelm them with activities that ultimately have no greater purpose than to test their ability to complete a task. You have to teach them that there is no other way. You have to make it difficult, if not impossible, for them to be able to break out of their servitude. But most importantly, you have to make them believe that their current position is noble and that to desire anything different is sinful or selfish. The last one is essential.

Focus Them In

Medical school is an extremely specialized training, however the specialization is gradual. The first two years of school is a broad overview of human anatomy, physiology, disease processes, and pharmacological interventions. To say that the information you are exposed to can be overwhelming is an understatement; it is impossible to absorb and retain it all. You aren’t supposed to. You are supposed to figure out what you want to start forgetting. And then Adderall. Or Ativan. However you cope best. But once you make it out of the first two years, mentally ravaged, vitamin D deficient, estranged from friends and family, and properly conditioned to believe that this is normal and necessary, you are allowed to progress to Stage 2.

Stage 2, also known as your third and fourth year, is about finishing the conditioning and narrowing the focus. Where you previously had some control over when you got to sleep, eat, shit, and breathe, those privileges are immediately lost the second you walk into your clinical rotations. You are told where to be, at which time, and how long you will stay there by various people who are not your parents or law enforcement. You really have no option but to be there, at least most of the time, lest you fall into their bad graces and risk failing (read: doing it all over again). In addition to being trained how to follow arbitrary orders, you are exposed to even more specialized fields for several weeks at a time in order to figure out what field of medicine you will accept having your life scheduled around. All that information which was shoved down your throat during your first two years begins to be pared down to fit the confines of your respective area of interest. It is by getting to “choose” your area of interest that provides you an illusion of control. Even slaves need to feel empowered sometimes. But this choice is just a means to further focus you in and prepare you for the next stage of conditioning known as residency.

Do everything. Expect nothing.

The endless onslaught of inane activities is not something unique to medical school or the post-training-mind-fuck known as residency. For those pursuing the lofty goal of being labeled a physician, these activities seem nearly life long and start early. From the extra credit and consistent completion of homework, to the time spent in extracurricular activities and volunteer work to prove that you are “well rounded” (read: fit to jump various hoops), it seems your entire life is an amalgamation of experiences which were collected for the sole purpose of being granted that golden ticket into medical school; your entire life is nothing but a means to an unsatisfying end. And it is not like the requirement for continued “activities” stops upon admission into medical school. No, that would be too humane. In addition to being waterboarded with information, you are “encouraged” to continue doing volunteer work, join committees, perform research, and make every effort to remove the idea of “free time” from your vocabulary. Of course, you are free to go against Master’s recommendations however you risk not advancing to the next level and being stuck with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt; your incentive is a carrot-flavored stick. You are in too deep. Better get to ladling out that soup.

But you get through it. Somehow. You may not have the clearest memory of it and may have even exaggerated a few things, but it is done. Your fourth year is here. You can breathe. Well, you can breathe after you collect your letters of recommendation, write your personal statement, write about what makes you unique (protip: there is nothing that makes you unique but the system demands obedience), go through your specialty-specific fourth year clinical rotations, spend thousands of dollars on additional 8-9 hour multiple choice exams, applying to residencies, and traveling for interviews to various residencies, and then submitting a match list while waiting in eager anticipation for 3-4 months to figure out where you will be contractually obligated to spend at least one year of your life. Easy. In comparison to the other three years, it is better. It provides the student (read: slave) with a relative reprieve before they jump head first into their life long struggle with alcoholism and drug abuse (read: career). Even slaves need a Sunday.

But then residency starts and you begin to see what your training was truly about: conditioning. Where most people would whine, kick, and scream over the prospect of waking up between 3-4AM for 26 days out of a month, working 12-36 hours straight, being verbally and occasionally physically abused by “customers”, explaining complicated medical conditions and medications to middle-aged children with a third grade reading level, being blamed for everything that happens by anyone that is considered above you (this includes patients), working with various bosses (read: attendings) with widely inconsistent personalities and preferences, all while trying to attend lectures, submit research proposals, and finish all your work for an ever increasing patient census before your shift ends in order to not go over your arbitrarily determined “duty hours”, we simply call it another Tuesday. We are so conditioned at this point that we cannot imagine anything else. This is our normal. This is our reward.

No escape

As was already alluded to earlier, even if you can see through the smoke and mirrors and know the game for what it is, you cannot escape. Or at least, you cannot escape unscathed. Many people complain of college loans and difficulties paying them off when they graduate from their four year alcohol bender into an entry level barista position at their local Starbucks. I get it. You were lied to the moment someone allowed you to sign up for a major in political science. But to put it in perspective, one year of medical school tuition is about the equivalent of four years of in-state college tuition. And if you went out of state for a four year bender without a (real) science or math degree, you have no one to blame but your parents.

But getting back to the cost of conditioning, medical school costs on average about $39K a year if you are in-state and close to $60K a year if you are out of state. Unlike college, where going out of state simply means you want mom and dad to be farther away, most people do not have that option to be selective about which state they will be conditioned in; you go where you are accepted. So, to do some basic math for the Poly-Sci majors, you are looking at $160-240K for four years of conditioning and this does NOT include the cost of living, exam fees, or travel expenses. The only thing that seems more expensive, and produces about the same results, is Scientology. Furthermore, nearly everyone passes their first year or they are made to repeat it. The only time that dismissal from the conditioning program becomes necessary is in the event that you fail (multiple times) the first of many day-long exams called Step 1. This is taken in your second year. At best, you are already $80-120K invested and quitting is only an option if your parents are wealthy. For the rest of us plebs, failure or escape is not an option; we are riding this train to its final destination and it’s a long trip.

This is what you deserve

“the understanding and encouragement of altruistic behaviour is vital in maintaining the public’s respect for the medical profession, and altruism is also a key dimension of a doctor’s work that helps prevent demoralization and burnout” – Jones. BMJ 2002.

Bullshit.

This last part, as I had mentioned before, is the most vital part of maintaining the slave mentality among those that have completed a life time of conditioning. Altruism seems to be the default moralistic stance taken by those involved in the medical field. It is viewed as an ideal morality that helps promote selfless actions by all in health care for the benefit of the patient; it is the only acceptable morality. But just like everything else, it is simply another tool for control. It is for controlling your soul.

You can cage an animal. You can make it perform a routine. You can make it proficient at that routine. However, if the animal still desires more, or desires out, you still run the risk of being mauled to death once a limit is reached. How do you stop this? Well, when it comes to man, you teach them either to not desire anything or that their desires are disgusting, guilt-inducing, or harmful. That is altruism.

Altruism is a slave morality that has been used for centuries to control populations. It is an extremely effective tool. It teaches that if you are not selfless then you are selfish. And if you are selfish then you are exploiting those around you and depriving them of their needs. Therefore, in order for you not to steal or deprive someone of their needs, you must be selfless and work for no other task but to provide for the well-being of others. Your needs are irrelevant. You are irrelevant. You must work. This is a great way to stave off demoralization and burnout.

Jones is right that altruism is a “key dimension” of a doctor’s work. Without it, doctors would not be able to continue with their tireless effort of taking on more and more responsibilities and burdens without seeing any additional reward. Slogging through the never-ending changes in health care regulations, queries from documentation specialists, requests for “Peer to Peer” discussions over payment denials by insurance companies, CMEs, MOCs, decreasing compensations, and increased patient work load takes a special degree of self-neglect, cowardice, and guilt to maintain. Thankfully, physicians have been well-conditioned to the point that many may even feel overcompensated when they actually start to earn a real paycheck. There can be no better proof of the slave mentality of physicians than to see one marvel and occasionally question their new income upon transitioning out of residency. “I don’t feel like I deserve this much…”. You’re right. But not in the way you think.

“Then how do we change it?”

You don’t. You can only change yourself. But maybe if enough “selves” are changed the system will take notice. And then try to destroy you. Because the system does not want to change. The system is working just fine for the system. The only way out is to break the system; to take the red pill and wake up. You must demand more. Fight more. You must get angry. You must be willing to lose everything in order to gain back your humanity.

But doctors are cowards.