Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘from the consulting room’ Category

Both Channel 4’s “more4news” and the NHS Confederation today contributed to the ongoing attack on homeopathy in the NHS by claiming that removing homeopathic care from the NHS would make a useful contribution to improving the NHS finances. Are they serious?

According to more4news the NHS in England spent about £3.5 million pounds a year on homeopathic care for about 22,000 patient “episodes” a year (both outpatient and inpatient care).

In 2007-2008 there were 54.3 million outpatient attendances (“episodes”) in England.

In 2005 an estimated £320 million pounds was spent by the NHS in England on management consultants.

The NHS drug bill is £7.2 BILLION.

Adverse drug effects from these prescribed drugs cost an estimated £466 million to treat in the NHS in England in 2006.

Bit of perspective guys? If you’re looking for answers to the financial problems of the NHS, you’re not going to find them in denying access to a therapy chosen by patients with long term conditions. Those patients aren’t going to go away. They’ll just need treated with something more expensive, and more likely to cause harm, than the care they’re currently receiving from their NHS homeopathic clinics.

In the real world, there are no single treatments which are guaranteed to work in every single patient with the same illness. In the NHS, as in Nature, we need diversity because, actually, we’re not all the same.

Read Full Post »

Look at these daffodils.
All daffodils, but all so different.

narcissus

narcissus

narcissus

narcissus

I love and am endlessly amazed by the diversity of Nature.

I am reminded every day how different we all are. Every patient I meet tells me a new story, one I’ve never heard before. The appeal of diversity and difference, of uniqueness, is probably one of the things that attracts me to a therapy which individualises the treatments people receive. I don’t think one size fits all. Dr Michael Dixon of the Prince of Wales, Foundation for Integrated Health, gets this right in the BBC’s Scrubbing Up column.

Read Full Post »

Patients present their problems to doctors as stories. Stories are the way we attempt to communicate what’s invisible – the inner, subjective reality that only we can experience. Take pain as an example. There is no way to see pain, or to experience another person’s pain. There are no instruments to measure it. So when someone presents with pain, doctors try to hunt down any physical abnormalites, any “lesions”, which might be the source of the pain. The trouble is, whilst the physical, the objective, the “lesion”, can be seen, or measured, or even touched, none of those qualities make it more real than the subjective experience of the invisible, un-measurable, symptoms. That’s not the way most doctors see it though. There is an enormous tendency to rate the “lesion” above the experience. Why is that a bad idea? Well, not least because the relationship between lesions and symptoms is non-linear at best, and coincidental at worst!

I came across an interesting article recently about how misleading MRI scans can be. It cited two fascinating studies.

An infamous 1994 study published in The New England Journal of Medicine imaged the spinal regions of ninety-eight people with no back pain or any back related problems. The pictures were then sent to doctors who didn’t know that the patients weren’t in pain. The end result was shocking: two-thirds of normal patients exhibited “serious problems” like bulging, protruding or herniated discs. In 38 percent of these patients, the MRI revealed multiple damaged discs. Nearly 90 percent of these patients exhibited some form of “disc degeneration”. These structural abnormalities are often used to justify surgery and yet nobody would advocate surgery for people without pain. The study concluded that, in most cases, “The discovery by MRI of bulges or protrusions in people with low back pain may be coincidental.”

So lesions without stories are just misleading aren’t they?

A large study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) randomly assigned 380 patients with back pain to undergo two different types of diagnostic analysis. One group received X-rays. The other group got diagnosed using MRI’s, which give the doctor a much more detailed picture of the underlying anatomy. Which group fared better? Did better pictures lead to better treatments? There was no difference in patient outcome: the vast majority of people in both groups got better. More information didn’t lead to less pain. But stark differences emerged when the study looked at how the different groups were treated. Nearly 50 percent of MRI patients were diagnosed with some sort of disc abnormality, and this diagnosis led to intensive medical interventions. The MRI group had more doctor visits, more injections, more physical therapy and were more than twice as likely to undergo surgery. Although these additional treatments were very expensive, they had no measurable benefit.

You might have thought that the “better” imaging technology would reveal the “real” lesions and so guide the doctors to the best treatments. Turns out that just wasn’t the case.

It’s very frustrating for a patient when their symptoms are dismissed because no lesions can be found (no physical diagnosis can be made), but it’s equally frustrating when the removal of such a discovered lesion fails to produce any lived benefits for the patient. We are beginning to see a greater use of “quality of life” questionnaires, and of “PROMS” (Patient Reported Outcome Measures) but there’s still a huge tendency to rate what can be measured over what can’t be.

Read Full Post »

Surgeons are doctors of the visible par excellence. They explore their patients’ bodies to find lesions, swellings, ulcers, abnormal pieces of tissue or abnormal organs. My trainer taught me “If you send your patient to a man with a knife he’ll use it”. That was good advice. When you present your symptoms to a surgeon he or she will try to find a lesion which might explain them. They use their eyes and their hands, and, increasingly they use technology to explore the inside of the body, and discover the lesions which can’t be seen with the naked eye. Their treatments, as you might expect, are similarly very physical, very visible. They use knives, lasers, needles and thread.

Physicians are also doctors of the visible, but their concept of the lesion which might explain your symptoms can be much more diffuse than that of the surgeon. Physicians increasingly focus on the physical changes which can only be revealed by technology. Not just the imaging equipment loved by the surgeons, but also the vast array of lab tests which reveal quantities of particular molecules circulating inside their patients’ bodies. They even explore the molecules within DNA to find the “causes” of disease. Physicians, in other words, as just as concerned about the visible, the physical, the measurable, as surgeons are. Their treatments similarly match their understanding of illness. Just as surgeons use highly visible, physical tools, so physicians use those tools which are visible – drugs. This is different from the surgical toolkit of course because although a tablet, or a cream, or an injection might be very visible, the actual tools which do the job are the molecules which the visible “medicine” contains. You can only make these tools visible by using technology. The molecules can’t be seen with the naked eye.

Psychiatrists are doctors of the invisible. They explore the subjective content of human minds. You can’t see anxiety, depression, compulsive thoughts or psychoses with the naked eye and you can’t find them with technology either. These symptoms are like the wind in the trees. You can only see the effects of the symptom, not the symptom itself. It’s interesting to see how psychiatrists have used both visible and invisible tools to address these invisible diseases. The main invisible tool they use is language. All the psychoanalytic and cognitive behavioural approaches are based on listening and talking. The patient tells their story, the therapist interprets it and works to enable the patient to tell a different story, one which is healthier. But psychiatrists also use drugs the way a physician uses drugs, either to modify behaviour, or to alter levels of brain chemicals and in so doing alter behaviour. The most physical/visible part of psychiatric treatment is brain surgery, removing or inactivating parts of the brain to alter behaviour or experience.

I’m a doctor of the invisible but I’m not a psychiatrist. My everyday work consists of listening to patients’ stories in order for them not just to reveal the subjective contents of their minds, but of their bodies too. I’m interested in such invisible phenomena as pain, nausea, light-headedness, itch, numbness, well-being and exhaustion, as well as more mental ones such as depression and anxiety. Because I specialise in the invisible, in most cases I refer visible manifestations of disease to a colleague, but in acute situations I’ll initiate physical treatments myself. However, most patients who are referred to the hospital where I work have already had the visible addressed and are referred because their continuing distress or disability caused by the invisible. It’s interesting that the treatments I use, homeopathic medicines, are also invisible. Not just invisible in the way that a drug is invisible until analysed, homeopathic medicines don’t reveal their characteristics to either the naked eye or to technology. They only reveal their characteristics to the individual patient. It’s the change in subjective experience which shows the effect.

I’ve compartmentalised here to make a point. However, the reality is that most doctors deal with both the visible and the invisible. Most doctors are concerned not just with the lesions which might be found, but also with the lived, inner, subjective experiences of their patients. It’s just that most doctors are trained with a biomedical model in mind, and that gives a huge priority to the physical, the visible. With the growth of understanding around concepts such as biopsychosocial models, phenomenological and narrative approaches, and so on, we are beginning to pay more attention to the invisible, to patients’ lived experiences. It’s not only the physical that matters, and subjective experience is neither irrelevant, nor is it less important than the presence of a lesion. What we are beginning to understand is that the relationship between the visible and the invisible is a non-linear one, and that the presence or absence of a lesion may or may not be relevant to a patient’s actual experience. The logic and the science of human functioning demands that we should at least redress the imbalance between the visible and the invisible in health care, and in many cases, actually reverse the current situation.

It turns out that what is most important in health care is what the patient tells the doctor, not what the doctor tells the patient.

Read Full Post »

I recently attended a two day “medical update symposium” for doctors at BMA House in London. I was impressed. The methods used and the organisation demonstrated were superb. One of the things we were encouraged to do after each session was to write down in the comprehensive handout three “take home” messages. A couple of days on from the event, as I think back over it, here are my three overall “take home messages” –

1. Continuity of Care. Both the respiratory physician and the dermatologist made pleas for continuity of care. The former showed a short video of a patient with COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) whose main point was how important it was for patients with chronic diseases to be able to see the same health carers over time, and the dermatologist commented how he came under pressure to discharge patients from his clinic and not follow up people with lifetime chronic skin disorders for life. So there are two aspects to continuity of care raised here – seeing the same carer and not having a chronic problem dealt with episodically. A third dimension was frequently referred to and that was the dis-integration of health care which is escalating on the back of the biomedical model (nobody used that term) which divides a person into their various diseases and disorders and attempts to deal with each of them in isolation (in the UK this is driven harder by what is called “QOF” – a system of paying GPs for reaching over a hundred different defined targets)

2. The non-linear relationship between disease and dysfunction (again, nobody actually used that language). The respiratory physician showed very clearly how a whole range of recommended and even mandatory lung function tests did NOT correlate with “breathlessness” as experienced by patients, so doctors could attain their targets, get paid, but the patient might still be complaining their life had not improved. The neurologist showed eight MRI scans of peoples’ brains and asked us to identify which one of the eight had any symptoms. ALL showed identifiable lesions. ALL but one were picked up incidentally while screening of looking for something else. That was one of the clearest demonstrations I’ve ever seen of the non-linear relationship between pathology and ill-health.

3. My third take home message was about prevention of cardiovascular disease – a subject repeatedly hammered home over the two days. Two flies in the ointment briefly appeared – in one session the presenter jokingly said that if the figures were extrapolated we’d have immortality within a few years (because stopping smoking, reducing cholesterol etc would “save so many lives”). A nonsense of course, but an important point. Exactly what are all the people who aren’t going to die from cardiovascular disease going to die from instead? Given that life has still stubbornly stuck with a 100% mortality rate.

The neurologist when discussing differential diagnoses of certain chronic neurological diseases, mentioned a particularly nasty, completely untreatable, progressive, degenerative disease and, again in a throw away remark, said you could hope the poor patient might be released by a heart attack or something before it got to this stage. I’m not arguing that preventing heart disease is a bad thing, just that it’s not an informed choice to make if you don’t consider what alternatives might then be your more likely future. (that would take me off down my hobby horse about the stupidity of basing health care on death avoidance, but I’ve done that elsewhere!)

Read Full Post »

The BMJ “views and reviews” section often contains the journal’s most thought-provoking and interesting content. This last week included a review of John Wesley’s 1747 text called  “Primitive Physic: Or, an Easy and Natural Method of Curing most Diseases”.
You might know of Wesley as the founder of the Methodist Church and a prolific hymn writer, but I’m guessing that, like me, you didn’t know he’d written anything on health. I was struck by two features. First of all, in recommending particular drugs or treatments he says this –

I have purposely set down (in most cases) several remedies for each disorder; not only because all are not equally easy to be procured at all times, and in all places: But likewise the medicine that cures one man, will not always cure another of the same distemper. Nor will it cure the same man at all times. Therefore it was necessary to have a variety. However, I have subjoined the letter (I) to those medicines some think to be infallible

You’d be surprised how many people haven’t quite sussed out this wisdom! In this current regime of “Evidence Based Medicine” and Clinical Guidelines the strong impression is often conveyed that there are two kinds of medicines – those that work and those that don’t. In fact, if Wesley’s methodology were to be followed the authors of “evidence based guidelines” would be sorely tempted to mark all their recommended drugs with a “l” for “infallible”! When it comes to health care and available treatments we would do well to heed Wesley’s “ Therefore it was necessary to have a variety”.

The second feature was a scan through his “rules” for healthy living – read them in more detail here

Pretty much what he’s saying is take exercise (in fresh air), drink plenty of water, eat enough to feel well but no more, have a mixed diet with a ratio of meat:veg of about 2:3, and avoid processed food as much as possible (OK, for him processed was seasoned, spiced, pickled etc – but the point was still to eat as much unprocessed food as possible). Finally, abstain from alcohol, (tea and coffee if you have bad “nerves”), go to bed early, get up early and have a regular rhythm to your sleep habit. Sound familiar?
I was just at a Medical Update seminar in BMA House in London and lecturer after lecturer advised – stop smoking, drink more water, take regular exercise and don’t eat till you get obese as the key ways to reduce risks of a huge range of diseases. Indeed, in the very same issue of the BMJ is an article about trying to persuade women to adopt healthier lifestyles pre-conception and how the vast majority don’t change their behaviour after such “education”. We don’t get it do we?
Who doesn’t know that to smoke, drink alcohol to excess, avoid all exercise and eat till you’re obese might not be good for your health? It’s over 260 years since Wesley preached his message (and I bet you can find plenty of older writings preaching exactly the same things). It doesn’t work. It’s not that the lifestyle doesn’t work. It’s the preaching the lifestyle that doesn’t work. People don’t choose to smoke, to get drunk, to eat till they get fat to get diseases. And they’re not going to choose not to smoke, not to get drunk or to change their eating habits for some statistical possibility of future health.
Throughout history the greatest health benefits have never stemmed from a targeting of individuals, they’ve come from social, economic and political interventions. Isn’t it time we started to apply a bit more effort and resources to housing, town planning, public transport, the industrialisation of the food supply, and socio-economic inequality? You never know – might just have a greater impact than preaching healthy lifestyles.

Read Full Post »

My daily working life is that of a doctor. That only tells you a little because Medicine is a very broad subject and doctoring can require extremely different sets of skills. Sometimes I muse about just what is the job of a doctor? Or what makes for a good doctor? I’m pretty sure it involves trying to understand people better. I’m also pretty sure it involves helping people. It involves never thinking you know everything or that you are definitely right! (I know that’s a surprising conclusion but there’s a difference between being decisive and being certain…..read the linked post for more on this). I think it’s also a common experience that a good doctor is one who gives a damn ie one who cares. However, the specifics of the working life of a doctor depend a lot on the context of the doctor’s work. I made myself a “human spectrometer” to clarify this point.

Human spectrometer

Most health care is created around systems. There are whole departments defined on the basis of their focus on a system – Neurology, Urology, Gastroenterology etc. The focus of a doctor in that department is a particular system of the body. He or she becomes expert in the diseases and disorders of that system and acquires the knowledge, tools and experience to intervene, to either resolve, or to manage those disorders. Some doctors specialise more than this. Move left a little from the system on the spectrometer. We have both medical and surgical specialists who focus on one particular organ, or part of a system, like liver specialists, hand surgeons, and so on, and following that path further left we have biochemists and geneticists who concentrate on the functions right down at cellular, or intracellular levels. Jumping to the other end of the scale, there are the epidemiologists and the Public Health doctors who consider disease at a population level. I’m a great admirer of the work of Prof Richard Wilkinson who makes clearer than anyone else I know just what an impact inequality has on population health. The knowledge, skills and experience he needs to do his job are quite different from those of the hand surgeon. Move left again along the spectrum from the right hand side. There are doctors who focus on families, whose everyday lives involves working with whole families, or parts of families. Then there’s me. Right there in the middle. There are lots and lots of doctors like me. Our days are spent largely in consulting rooms with individual patients. Our approach is a generalist one, not a specialist one. We focus on the person. The skills, knowledge and experience needed to do this kind of daily work is holistic, narrative-based and focused on the ability to listen, to communicate and to understand at an individual level.

So each doctor needs the skills and the knowledge appropriate to their practice but there’s something else all doctors share. We are all trying to relieve suffering.

Suffering isn’t a word you’ll find in medical textbooks (just like you won’t find the words “health” or “healing” in textbooks of clinical medicine either!) but it’s our raison d’etre. You can judge me by it. I judge myself by it. When I go to work any day, I want to relieve suffering. If I interact with a patient and don’t feel that I’ve contributed to a relief of their suffering by my involvement and my actions then I don’t feel I’ve done my job. Dr Eric Cassell’s book, “The Nature of Suffering”, deals with this issue beautifully. He says in this book, and in his others, that he changed his clinical practice by deciding to focus on the issue of the patient’s suffering. In fact he explicitly asks his patients to tell him about their suffering as a powerful way of allowing them to set and declare their agenda and for him to focus his care where it matters. In that book he shows how suffering might lie in an individual patient, but it might lie in their relationships, their family, their workplace or community. You could, in fact, ask that question at any point on the “human spectrometer” above. Just where on the spectrum does the suffering lie?

However, human beings have a complex relationship with suffering. It might even be extolled as something good – “No pain. No gain” “I have to suffer for my art” I’ve read more than one book which considers the place of a serious illness in an artist’s life and puts forward the hypothesis that it was their suffering which enabled them to produce their distinctive, great art. I recently read David Lynch’s book, “Catching the Big Fish; Meditation, Consciousness and Creativity” (which I highly recommend actually!) where he powerfully refutes that argument, claiming that Van Gogh might have had the chance to produce even more and even greater art if he hadn’t had all that suffering to cope with in his life. Suffering gets a good press in many religious teachings as well as in a certain kind of New Age thinking. There are many spiritual practices based on inflicting suffering on the body and there’s even a belief in destiny, or Fate, or karma, which states that if you are suffering it’s because that’s what your soul requires. Even the “quest story” of Arthur Franks, as exemplified in Lance Armstrong’s “It’s not about the Bike” shows how suffering can be a path to growth and development.

I’m not denying any truths which lie in those beliefs. Nor am I claiming to know better. But let me be very clear, as far as I know, nobody, given the choice between a path of suffering and one of bliss, chooses suffering. We only choose suffering if we can see no other way to get to where we want to be. If we can find another way that doesn’t involve suffering we’ll choose it. So, yes, maybe my job involves helping people to make the most of their suffering, or to even get something good out of it, but, my first priority, my prime motivation is to do my best to relieve it.

Whether I can help relieve someone’s suffering or not, the inextricably related goal I have is to help that person to have a good life. The point of relieving suffering is to enable a person to experience a good life. But as suffering is an inevitable thread that winds its way through all lives, a doctor’s job is to help people to have a good life, whether they are suffering or not.

Doctors are not the only people to help others to lead good lives of course, but I do think a doctor who loses sight of this goal, loses sight of what it is to be a doctor.

PS Now you’ll be thinking “ah, but what is a GOOD LIFE?” Me too! (I’m working on a post about this but here’s an earlier one to be going on with)

Read Full Post »

There have been several studies which have shown that there is evidence of selection bias in the publication of drug trials. In this post here I gave a couple of examples of concerns about both the sheer number of trials conducted vs the number of publication outlets, and the huge percentage of registered trials which never make it as far as even being offered for publication.

Here’s another piece of that jigsaw. Reviewers from the Cochrane Library found that trials which demonstrated a positive effect of the drug studied were much more likely to be published than those which didn’t.

“This publication bias has important implications for healthcare. Unless both positive and negative findings from clinical trials are made available, it is impossible to make a fair assessment of a drug’s safety and efficacy,”

They found that not only were negative trials less likely to be published at all, but those which were tended to be published between and one and four years after the positive trials.

Results from one of the five studies in the review indicated that investigators and not editors might be to blame. The reasons most commonly given for not publishing were that investigators thought their findings were not interesting enough or did not have time. “The registration of all clinical trial protocols before they start should make it easier to identify where we are missing results,” says Kay Dickersin from Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, USA, another of the researchers on this project.

In other words, those carrying out the research were the ones responsible for deciding not to bother publishing unless the results supported the use of the drug being studied. Sadly, the New England Journal of Medicine study I quoted in the linked post at the beginning of this one, found that 30% of registered trials didn’t make it to publication! So it will take more than a simple registration process to sort out this distortion of the evidence base.

Read Full Post »

I was a little surprised to find this as “news”

Patients and their families want physicians who are gifted in diagnosis and treatment and who are caring individuals with the interpersonal skills needed to communicate complex information in stressful circumstances. A new study in the January 2009 issue of Academic Medicine shows training physicians to be humanistic is feasible and produces measurably better communicators.

It’s kind of sad that this is promoted as newsworthy. But I’m glad it’s being publicised all the same.

“Traditionally medical school curricula have focused on the pathophysiology of disease while neglecting the very real impact of disease on the patient’s social and psychological experience, that is, their illness experience. It is in this intersection that humanism plays a profound role,” said Dr. Frankel, who is a medical sociologist.

This is the heart of the problem I think. It’s this very issue which Havi Carel deals with so clearly in her book.

I did like this quote in the news item however –

In the 1920’s Francis Peabody, M.D., wrote that “the secret of care of the patient is caring for the patient”

Read Full Post »

I’ve just read “illness” by Havi Carel (ISBN 978-1-84465-152-8). This is an excellent book and as Raymond Tallis says on the back “should be read and re-read by everyone who is professionally involved with illness, who is ill, or is likely to become ill; which is to say, by all of us”. I couldn’t agree more.

Havi Carel teaches philosophy at the University of the West of England. She has developed a rare but extremely serious disease – LAM – which quickly reduced her lung capacity by 50%. She brings her professional philosophical knowledge and understanding to the personal experience of this illness in a way which both challenges the way we think about illness, (chronic illness especially), and provides a useful framework for a positive engagement with such difficult life-limiting experiences as disabling disease.

I would like to see significant changes in the way health care is delivered based on the lessons revealed in this book. We need a fundamental re-humanisation of our ways of thinking about illness in order to bring about a sea change in the way doctors, nurses and other health professionals work.

Havi Carel writes with great clarity. Don’t be frightened off by the fact she’s a philosopher. Despite the fact that she draws on the work of philosophers from Epicurus to Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty (amongst others), there is nothing difficult to grasp or understand in this book. She skilfully uses the works of great philosophers to both illuminate and clarify our thinking about health and illness. Not only does she use clear, straightforward English, but the personal story woven into book makes it a profoundly moving and completely engaging read.

On a naturalistic view, illness can be exhaustively accounted for by physical facts alone. This description is objective (and objectifying), neutral and third-personal………Phenomenology privileges the first-person experience, thus challenging the medical world’s objective, third person account of disease. The importance phenomenology places on a person’s own experience, on the thoroughly human environment of everyday life, presents a novel view of illness.

Instead of viewing illness as a local disruption of a particular function, phenomenology turns to the lived experience of this dysfunction. It attends to the global disruption of the habits, capacities and actions of the ill person.

This consideration of the relationship between objective and subjective perspectives is I think central to the development of humane and humanly relevant medicine. Eric Cassell nicely explores this conceptually by unpicking the words “disease” and “illness”, and clinically by asking doctors to encourage patients to talk about their “suffering”. The fundamental shift is a change of perspective from the components of the body, to the socially embedded individual human being. Havi Carel’s consideration of the “biological body” and the “lived body” sets a wonderfully clear perspective from which to understand this.

Normally, in the smooth everyday experience of a healthy body, the two bodies are aligned, harmonious. There is agreement between the objective state of the biological body and the subjective experience of it. In other words, the healthy body is transparent, taken for granted……..It is only when something goes wrong with the body that we begin to notice it.

This is exactly the point made by Hans Georg Gadamer in his excellent collection of essays entitled “The Enigma of Health”. For me, reading his essays completely changed the way I thought about health and illness. Havi Carel has given me a new framework for these concepts and values and I find that very exciting.

One of the most useful parts of this book is the exploration of the idea of “health within illness”. We have a tendency to write off the chronically sick expelling them from the land of the healthy to the land of the ill (as Susan Sontag so clearly wrote). But life’s not like that. Having a chronic illness does NOT mean never being able to experience health again. In the last two chapters of the book, “Fearing death”, and “Living in the Present” she tackles this head on, drawing on advice from Epicurus, Heidegger and the contemporary French philosopher, Hadot. The wonder and the joy of the present is something I’ve posted about before – here and here – both times referring to Hadot in particular. I couldn’t agree more.

Let me finish this short review though by focusing on her other really important point –

Empathy. If I had to pick the human emotion in greatest shortage, it would be empathy. And this is nowhere more evident than in illness. The pain, disability and fear are exacerbated by the apathy and disgust with which you are sometimes confronted when you are ill. There are many terrible things about illness; the lack of empathy hurts the most.

Virtually every day I hear terrible stories of heartlessness and carelessness. Of patients who have experienced a total lack of humane care in the hands of health care professionals. Always those stories shock me. In one way I don’t understand them. Why work in a caring profession if you frankly don’t care? But in another way I blame the system. This exclusive emphasis on the biological body reduces human beings to cases of diseases. By ignoring or belittling the patients’ narratives, or by not paying attention to their subjective experiences of their “lived bodies”, we literally de-humanise our practice.

To think of a human being is to think of a perceiving, feeling and thinking animal, rooted within a meaningful context and interacting with things and people within its surrounding.

It’s time to re-humanise Medicine. This book is an important contribution to that project.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »