Author: Maria Yang, MD

Categories
Medicine Observations Reflection

On the Word “Prescriber”.

Please don’t call call me a “prescriber”. Yes, I know it’s easier to say “prescriber” than “psychiatric nurse practitioner, physician assistant, or psychiatrist”.[1. I don’t know if ARNPs, PAs, and physicians are called “prescribers” in other areas of medicine. Do people call their cardiologists or pediatricians “prescribers”?] The word “prescriber”, however, puts severe limits on what I can do and how I can help.

You may believe that, because I have a license to prescribe medications, that’s all I choose to do. In fact, you may believe that’s all I know how to do.

Psychiatrists can do a lot more than that.

As a psychiatrist, I can:

  1. use interpersonal skills so that people feel comfortable talking to me about personal things
  2. help people design mini-experiments to determine if their beliefs about themselves are helpful or accurate
  3. prompt people to consider different sides of an issue to help them commit to decisions about their health
  4. encourage people to pause and reflect on their own thoughts, emotions, and behaviors
  5. teach people skills about how to manage the expectations they have of themselves and others
  6. educate people on how to help themselves so that they eventually won’t have to see me or another psychiatrist in the future[2. This list in technical terms would translate to:
    1. engage and build rapport with a wide variety of people
    2. gently challenge cognitive distortions
    3. enhance ambivalence, as in motivational interviewing
    4. encourage self-reflection to facilitate mindfulness and create more opportunities for positive reinforcement
    5. teach skills related to interpersonal effectiveness and the dialectic of acceptance and change
    6. help people exit the mental health system

    ]

While it is true that I might use those skills to encourage some people to take medications, I can also use those skills to:

  1. help people to reduce the number and amount of psychiatric medications they are taking[3. Some people end up taking multiple medications for unclear reasons. This often occurs when physicians do not have a clear diagnosis; they are instead chasing symptoms. One irritating example is the prescription of antipsychotic medications for insomnia… for someone who is not psychotic. Yes, antipsychotic medications are sedating. They can also cause high blood pressure, weight gain, diabetes, and involuntary movements. I’m not confident that all doctors regularly share this information with patients.]
  2. coach people to first try interventions other than medications[4. Remember, when we prescribe medications, we are recommending to people that they put chemicals into their bodies. In psychiatry, we often can’t offer solid explanations as to how these chemicals work. To be clear, I am not anti-medication; I use the word “chemicals” to highlight what we’re asking people to do when we write prescriptions.]
  3. provide education about the interactions between mind and body, whether related to medications or medical conditions

If my skill set is limited to prescribing medications alone, those automated psychiatrist machines will replace me in short order.

Psychiatrists should continue to strive to be the artisans of the clinical interview. As with the other specialties in medicine, the goals in psychiatry should focus on improving quality of life and reducing suffering. Sometimes that involves medications; sometimes it doesn’t.

The word “prescriber” overlooks those goals entirely.

Categories
Education Funding Homelessness Medicine Observations Policy Reading Systems

Thoughts on Stuff.

Recent things I have read that I have found interesting, curious, or vexing:

The Social Security Administration maintains a “compassionate allowances” list, which is a list of “medical conditions [that] are so serious that their conditions obviously meet disability standards”.[1. You can learn more about how diseases make it on to the “compassionate allowances” list here.] Cancers, genetic conditions, and diseases still known by eponyms make the list. (Medical types: This is your list of zebras, not horses.)

“Can you receive SSI (Supplemental Security Income)[2. The Social Security Administration mails a check of about $721 once a month to individuals who receive SSI. To receive SSI, you must have “limited income and resources” AND you must be disabled, blind, or age 65 and older. I got lost while digging through all the subsections, so I don’t know what the “limited” income is. “The limit for countable resources is $2,000 for an individual and $3,000 for a couple.”] while living in a public shelter for the homeless?” the Social Security Administration asks.

Answer: “Yes. You can receive up to the maximum SSI benefit payable in your State while living in a public shelter for up to 6 months out of any 9 month period.” (Emphasis mine.)

While it is true that most people are in the shelter system for less than three months, is it possible that some people who receive SSI will need more help over a longer period of time to get out of the system?

If someone must stay in a shelter, that usually means that he can’t pay rent. Most employers prefer to hire employees who have actual home addresses. No job means no income. No income means difficulties finding affordable housing. And it is mighty difficult to pay for housing and food with only $721 a month.

Psychiatry has little to offer in the realm of prevention.[3. Some would also argue that psychiatry has little to offer in the realm of treatment. In moments of frustration, I agree.] We have no medications to prevent schizophrenia, though omega-3 fatty acids might reduce the likelihood that a youth already showing some signs of psychosis will develop “full blown” psychosis. (Researchers are putting efforts into preventing psychosis, which is exciting.) Most people don’t go to therapy prior to experiencing uncomfortable and distressing emotions.

The WHO has a paper about social determinants of mental health that cover the entire lifespan. Frequent themes in the paper include providing education for women; attending to the mental health of mothers before, during, and after pregnancy; reducing poverty; and providing support to people in school and in work. The prevention of and reductions in psychiatric symptoms were not due to medical interventions.

Incorporating mental health into daily living helps people stay well and develop the resiliency to deal with crap. It’s not a separate thing. We know that people who have had adverse childhood experiences are more likely to have psychiatric and medical problems as adults. Exercise, spending time with friends and family, maintaining stable relationships, eating nutritious foods, learning about stuff, finding value in work and hobbies, avoiding conflict and trauma—all of these activities are useful in preventing major psychiatric conditions.

How many of us in psychiatry focus on these social determinants in our daily work? How have we let ourselves become “prescribers”? Can we change that so that we “prescribe” education and activity more often, and only prescribe medications in the most severe circumstances?[4. This is easier said than done, given that we cannot control the behavior of other people or systems. I also detest the word “prescriber”. That’ll be another post.]

Someone pointed me to this article with the polarizing title: Bad Managers Talk, Good Managers Write. The author argues:

When managers write, you create work product — white papers, product requirement documents, FAQs, presentations — that lasts and is accessible to everyone in the organization. From marketing to sales to QA to engineering, everyone has a document off which they can work and consult.

The upshot is that the manager also takes public responsibility for what happens when the rest of the team executes on the point of view taken by the documents. That ratchets up accountability through the organization.

This is also the benefit of keeping a blog. You create a body of work that people can read, refer to, and learn from. More importantly, regardless of your work (whether it is your formal profession or what you do “on the side”), it gives you the opportunity to reflect on things that matter to you, clarify your thinking, express your ideas, and connect with interesting people, including yourself.

Categories
Education Homelessness Lessons Medicine Nonfiction Policy Reflection Systems

Involuntary Commitment (VII).

This post is overdue by one year! It may help to review the third scenario and a primer on involuntary commitment before reading on.

Why the delay? Because I still wrestle with the question at the end of this post.

Recall in the third scenario the man, described as a chronic inebriate, who frequently tried to kill himself while intoxicated. He recently had slapped a woman in a laundromat and had thrown a can of soda at outreach workers. How would you apply involuntary commitment criteria here?

1. Does this person want to harm himself or someone else?

While intoxicated, he has said that he wants to kill himself and we know that he has, in fact, harmed other people: He slapped a woman in the laundromat and he threw a can of soda at some outreach workers. While these may be minor insults in the grand scheme of things, they still suggest that he is disinhibited enough potentially harm someone.

2. How imminent is this risk of harm to self or others?

Probably imminent. Since he is frequently intoxicated, he is frequently disinhibited.

3. Are these behaviors due to a psychiatric condition?

Maybe.

Is an alcohol use disorder a psychiatric condition?

Think about your answer again.

Though “alcohol use disorder” is listed as a condition in DSM-5, some would argue that it is not a psychiatric condition. They would say that it is a choice. They would also argue that the mental disturbance that comes from alcohol use is temporary while “true” psychiatric conditions do not have the same cause-and-effect phenomena that we often see with alcohol.

However, we also know that this man has reported auditory hallucinations in the past and, regardless if his alcohol use is a psychiatric condition or not, his intoxication is clearly affecting his ability to function.

At least that is how I formulated it.

Related: Will hospitalization help treat the underlying psychiatric condition?

Possibly. The likelihood that he can become intoxicated with alcohol in the hospital is very low (but not impossible).

What actually happened?

The man was going around in circles from emergency room to street to jail. The police wanted him admitted to the hospital because the only time the police weren’t picking him up was when he was sober, which was when he was in the hospital. The outreach team had housing for him (he could have moved in tomorrow!), but he was too intoxicated to accept the invitations.

There was a big meeting and we concocted a big plan: The outreach team would find and talk with the man in the park in five days at 11am. He would likely be intoxicated and belligerent by then. The police would meet us there. The police would help transport the man to the hospital on an involuntary order. The emergency department staff would admit him to the hospital, whether he agreed to or not. Once he received treatment in the hospital, he would be discharged into his own apartment, with hopes that he would stay off the streets and away from alcohol.

What could go wrong?

On the appointed day, we found him in the park.

“Hey hey hey,” he said, putting his arm around the outreach worker, a goofy grin on his face. He offered the 40-ounce can of beer to us. “It’s the first one. Half full. I’m an optimist.” He laughed.

My heart was starting to sink: Even though he slapped a woman and threw a can of soda at someone less than a week ago, he wasn’t doing anything right now that would warrant an involuntary hospitalization.

But the show must go on, right? Multiple people and systems were involved. We had a big plan. And going through with the plan would be in his best interests, right?

Right?

“So,” the outreach worker started, “what do you think about going to the hospital with us?”

He laughed. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”

“The doctors can check your health, make sure everything is okay….”

“Naw, don’t need it. I feel fine.”

Indeed. He was buzzed, but that wasn’t a reason to go to the hospital.

He looked over our shoulders, smiled, and shouted, “HEY!”

Behind us were four men with broad shoulders and thick legs. We all recognized them as police officers, though they were wearing casual clothes. They nodded at us.

“Wanna go to that bar with me?” the man asked, pointing to the brick building down the street.

“Sure!” the police said, chuckling. “It’s 11am.”

The outreach worker and I stood by our car and watched them disappear into the bar. We said nothing. Still nothing had happened that would warrant hospitalization, voluntary or not.

Several minutes later, the police officers and the man emerged from the bar. The man was singing:

Hello!
Is it me you’re looking for?
’cause I wonder where you are
And I wonder what you do
Are you somewhere feeling lonely?
Or is someone loving you?

The officers started laughing. Everyone was having a good time.

The police led the man to a squad car and opened the back door.

“We’re going to the hospital.”

“F@ck no,” the man said, smiling, having no idea what was happening. My heart sank further.

“Get into the car.”

“No!”

“Look, get into the car—”

—and that’s when he spit at a police officer.

WHAM! It happened so fast that I couldn’t believe what happened. They threw him against the hood of the police car. Two officers pinned his arms down. The other two looked ready to strike him.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Pedestrians began to rubberneck. Some young men began to call, “What did he do? Why you doing that?”

“It’s none of your business. Keep walking. There’s nothing to see here,” a police officer barked.

“No, that ain’t right. Why did you do that?”

A woman with flowers in her grey hair and a flowing peasant dress around her thin frame approached.

“That’s police brutality, that’s what. We need to get rid of the cops.”

In the meantime, the police officers had handcuffed the man—for what? for what?—and placed a mesh bag over his head so that if he tried to spit again, the netting would catch it.[1. This mesh bag is called a “spit sack”.] They pushed him into the back of the car and closed the door.

The crowd on the sidewalk grew. Close to three dozen people started to shout and chant at the police officers.

The outreach worker and I got into our car. What was happening?

The ambulance the police had called arrived. A paramedic got out and, hands on his hips, talked with one of the police officers. His brow was furrowed and he was frowning. The officer shrugged, then pointed to our car.

The paramedic walked over and knocked on my window. I rolled it down.

“What did this man do? Why are we taking him to the hospital? Did he actually do anything that warrants an involuntary transport?”

My cheeks burned.

“No.”

The paramedic[2. God bless this paramedic. We need people like him to ask these questions.] glared at me. He then turned around and walked away.

The police and paramedics moved him from the back of the police car into the ambulance while the crowd continued to bristle. The ambulance honked as it tried to weave through the crowd.

After the police drove away, the crowd dispersed.

The outreach worker and I sat in our car in silence. My cheeks were still burning.

He was in the hospital for about two weeks. The first three days were against his will. He agreed to stay in the hospital for the remaining 11 days.

The outreach worker met the man when he was discharged from the hospital to escort him to his apartment. He attended AA meetings four days a week. He took his two medications every night. He saw his counselor every week.

He avoided the park. The police started calling our office: “We never see him anymore. Do you know what happened?”

I never saw the man again, though heard occasional updates from his psychiatrist. The man didn’t drink any alcohol for nearly a year. When he did slip, he asked to go to the hospital. The police never got involved.

Even now, I still ask myself, “Did we do the right thing?”

Categories
Homelessness Observations Reflection

Continuity of Care.

The first time I saw him he was walking around the shelter with another man. His hands were buried in the pockets of his hoodie and his gaze was fixed on the ground. He looked shorter than his actual height because he was slouching.

He and the man walked laps around the shelter while they talked. His expression was hard: Eyebrows furrowed, jaw tight, lips curled into a slight frown. He moved across the tiled floor like a sleek fish gliding through the water.

“Hi,” I said, introducing myself. “Do you mind if we talk for a few minutes?”

His companion kept walking as he coasted to a halt. His stony expression softened; his eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared at the outer corners of his eyes as he smiled.

“Sure. Thank you.”

He and I walked laps around the shelter for the next few days. His father beat his mother, his brother, and him. At the age of 11 he found his mother’s body after she committed suicide. His father disappeared for days at a time. When he returned, his speech was slurred, clothes were dirty, and exhalations were thick with malt liquor. He stopped attending school. He ran away from home. He slept in alleys and underneath bridges. The police picked him up on a variety of charges: Theft. Drug possession. Criminal trespass.

The second time I saw him he lying on a mat in the shelter. The stiff blanket was not long enough to cover his entire body; his feet with their long toenails poked out.

He pulled the blanket off of his face and replied, “Heroin. Couple days ago.” Pulling up a sleeve, he showed me the collection of tiny bruises on his arm. He closed his eyes. Beads of sweat collected on the pale skin of his forehead.

“I’ll be done kicking dope tomorrow.” He pulled the blanket back over his head.

The third time I saw him he was sitting on the floor in the shelter, his arms hugging his knees.

“I don’t make many promises. I promised her that I won’t kill myself. I keep the promises I make, so I didn’t do it. I really wanted to.”

He accepted the invitation and got up. He and I walked laps around the shelter. He had yet to talk with her, though he planned to see her tomorrow. The last time he used heroin was over six months ago, but he was also in jail for four of those months.

“You didn’t use anything in jail?”

He shook his head.

After a pause, he said, “You know, I’ve seen you downtown. You were with a guy, so I didn’t want to bug you.”

“Is that where you’re staying these days?”

“Yeah.”

“Outside?”

“Yeah.”

The fourth time I saw him he was standing on the sidewalk outside of a methadone clinic. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled over his head and baggy jeans covered his long legs. His hands were buried in the pockets of his sweatshirt. The other man made a joke; he chuckled and wrinkles appeared at the outer corners of his eyes as he smiled.

I crossed the street. He was with a guy and I didn’t want to bug him.

The fifth time I saw him he had already passed me. Without realizing that I was reviving an old habit, I wrapped the long white coat closed as I looked over my shoulder.

“Smith!” the officer barked. “Stay where you are. Turn around.”

He stopped, turned, and looked up. We saw each other.

“Go back to your cellblock, Smith.”

He moved across the concrete floor like a sleek fish gliding through the water. Before he passed me, he nodded in recognition. I nodded back.

We both kept walking. I sighed.

Categories
Education Medicine Observations Policy Seattle Systems

A Primer on Psychiatric Boarding.

The Washington State Supreme Court recently stated that “psychiatric boarding” is unconstitutional.[1. You can read the court’s opinion here. It’s a fairly easy read.] I agree with and support the court’s decision. “Boarding” is a terrible practice.

To be clear, though, the consequences of this decision may be undesirable.

Some background: In the state of Washington, the only people who can hospitalize individuals against their will for psychiatric reasons are “designated mental health professionals” (DMHPs). Police officers can bring people to emergency rooms against their wills and physicians and other professionals can evaluate people who show distress. A DMHP, as an agent of the state, makes the ultimate decision whether to detain someone against his will.

Let’s be clear about this: Being hospitalized against your will is stressful, upsetting, and frightening. The state is taking away the rights and freedoms from an individual. Civil liberties? Gone. It is a big deal. No one enjoys the process.

In order for a DMHP to hospitalize someone against his will, a person first must show evidence of a “mental disorder”.[2. A finer point about “showing evidence of a mental disorder” is that there should be some proof that hospitalization is an effective treatment for the mental disorder in question. This is why some people go to jail and not to the hospital. This path can lead us into the weeds.] Having a mental disorder alone, however, is not reason enough to hospitalize someone against his will. At least one of the following three criteria must also apply:

  • He is a danger to himself. (Consider a man with major depression who was found nearly unconscious; a noose made of bedsheets was around his neck.)
  • He is a danger to others. (Consider the woman who is walking across the highway multiple times because she believes that God wants her to proselytize to the drivers.)
  • He shows “grave disability”, or is unable to meet his basic needs. (Consider the man who has not eaten any food in nearly two weeks because he believes that all food is actually composed of his internal organs.)[3. If you think that none of these scenarios ever really happen, I encourage you to go volunteer at your local emergency room.]

Thus, at least two people–the person who wanted the individual to go to the hospital and the DMHP–were concerned enough about the individual to believe that he needed to be in the hospital to get care.[4. For now, let us put aside arguments that psychiatric hospitalization is never helpful or indicated. Some people believe that psychiatric hospitalization is a veiled form of incarceration.]

That “to get care” part is the crucial point when we talk about “boarding”.

People who are involuntarily detained in Washington are only allowed to be hospitalized in certain facilities (or certain beds). Facilities submit an application to the state to become a “certified” place where they can treat people who are hospitalized against their wills.[5. Indeed, there are psychiatric hospitals in Washington State that are not certified to treat people who are hospitalized against their wills.] These places can be entire buildings (called “evaluation and treatment facilities”, or “E&Ts”, here). They can also be specific beds within a hospital, usually on psychiatric wards.

There has been concern if “inpatient psychiatric capacity is sufficient to meet [a] potential increased demand” for involuntary hospitalizations. All certified beds are frequently occupied. Most people who are referred for involuntary hospitalization are not in psychiatric hospitals; they are in hospital emergency rooms.

There are medical centers (and, by extension, hospital emergency rooms) in Washington State that do not have any psychiatric providers on staff.

Thus, DMHPs have been hospitalizing people against their wills, but no certified treatment beds are available. These detained individuals therefore are admitted to hospital emergency rooms or random hospital wards while they wait for certified beds to open up.

If the hospital does not have psychiatric providers on staff, that means these detained individuals don’t receive any psychiatric care. People could wait hours, days, or even weeks before they are transferred to a certified facility to receive formal psychiatric services.

In the meantime, these individuals are often physically restrained to their beds. There might not be enough hospital staff to fulfill the state’s mandate that they remain in the hospital against their wills.

Sometimes these individuals receive doses of sedating medication for multiple days in a row. (Imagine you work in an emergency department. Someone who is detained in your emergency department will not stop screaming obscenities at other patients. He also tries to spit at everyone. He has also tries to punch the nurses whenever they walk by.)

This isn’t treatment. (Remember, the state ordered that this person be hospitalized against his will to get care.)

Thus, you can now see why the state supreme court decreed that it is not okay to “board” psychiatric patients. People who are detained against their will, by the state’s definition, need treatment. “Boarding” isn’t treatment.

This is why I agree with and support the court’s decision.

However, now that you know that there aren’t enough certified psychiatric beds in the state, you can guess what undesirable consequences might come from this decision.

The detained individual in the emergency room who yells and tries to punch all the nurses? Now he might end up in jail on charges of assault. Jail is not a therapeutic environment. Some jails do not offer any psychiatric services. Incarceration, like boarding, is not treatment.

Detained individuals might instead be released into the community if no certified beds are available at that time. Someone else–another police officer, another family member–might try to re-refer them back to the hospital a few hours after they were released. This results in a cycle in and out of hospitals and other institutions. That isn’t treatment, either.

Hospitals that have certified beds may feel pressure to discharge people more quickly due to the heightened demand. These individuals may not have recovered “enough” and may return to the hospital much sooner than anyone would like.

Another potential consequence is that those individuals who seek hospital services on their own–perhaps in an effort to avoid involuntary hospitalization–may not be able to get into a hospital at all. Those detained against their wills may occupy all of the certified hospital beds.

My understanding is that the state is considering various ways to work with the new law: This includes increasing the number of certified beds, creating different options to divert people from hospitals, and reducing the amount of referrals for involuntary hospitalization.

I don’t understand why some hospitals don’t employ psychiatrists.[6. Psychiatric services are not “revenue generators”, so I suspect this is the reason why some hospitals don’t hire psychiatrists.] If a pregnant woman about to have a baby shows up at an emergency room, hospitals have staff available with the expertise to manage her care.

Why isn’t this the case with psychiatry?