Category: Consult-Liaison

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Consult-Liaison Education

Most People Do Okay Most of the Time.

Because May is Mental Health Month, I was asked to present information about mental health to a lay audience. This is both an exciting and daunting task. I imagine it’s like asking someone to talk about fish. There are so many kinds of fish! They live in many habitats! Some of them look more like snakes than fish! There are so many directions to go.

I have given a “psychiatry 101” talk to many non-clinical audiences in the past. While reviewing my notes, it became clear that, while this presentation offers useful introduction, the underlying message is that psychiatry focuses on pathology. (This is a common theme in medicine: Doctors are often much better at looking for and finding things that are wrong than at pointing out and supporting things that are going well.)

So, here are three things about psychiatry that don’t focus on pathology:

People are resilient. I remain amazed with the capacity people have to take care of themselves and others when everything is falling apart.

Even though the majority of people experience terrible trauma—war, rapes, natural and unnatural disasters, etc.—most of them will not develop post-traumatic stress disorder. Most people at some point will experience heartbreaking grief following the death of a loved one, but the vast majority will not develop major depression or complicated grief.

People go to work, take care of children, and support their friends despite hearing disturbing voices, thinking about suicide, and feeling unsafe in public. They find ways to help themselves that have nothing to do with formal psychiatric interventions: The man hearing disturbing voices might put on headphones and play the same song over and over again. The woman thinking about suicide might sign up for an extra volunteer shift at the animal shelter so she is around other people. The military veteran might sit in the rear corner of the movie theatre.

Most people do okay most of the time.

It’s okay to not feel good. The goal of feeling happy or serene all the time is an impossible goal. Everyone at some point thinks disturbing thoughts. Just because it seems like everyone else is happy or serene doesn’t actually mean that they are happy or serene.

While our thoughts and emotions may seem illogical at times (“why am I thinking about that?” “why do I feel this way right now?”), that doesn’t mean that something is wrong. Sometimes your thoughts and emotions are treasure troves of information: Your internal experiences give you information about the person you’re talking to, the situation you’re in, and what your next steps should be.

The definitions of psychiatric disorders are not solely limited to “not feeling good” or disliking an emotional experience. Sometimes we don’t feel good. Sometimes that lasts longer than we want. But that doesn’t mean you have a terminal emotional illness.

Most people do okay most of the time.

Behaviors serve a purpose. We all do things that other people think are weird. The spectrum of weirdness is wide, but, if we are lucky to learn more, we can find out the basis behind the behavior.

Why doesn’t she speak up more? Because she believes that no one will find her remarks helpful.

Why won’t he wear anything other than sweatpants? Because he wants to spend his money on fancy cars.

Why won’t she stop smoking methamphetamine? Because it helps her stay awake at night so the men won’t rape her.

Why does he apologize all the time? Because, as a child, he learned that if he apologized a lot, he might be able to stop his father from beating him.

Why does he say things like, “I know a lot about wind” and “I know more about drones than anybody”? I mean, who knows. Is this the only way he knows how to interact with other people? Have these sorts of boasts helped him succeed in the past in relationships and business deals?

The definitions of psychiatric disorders are not solely limited to “doing weird things”. If we do certain things that help us or get things that we want, we will continue to do those things. Sometimes we continue to do those things even when they no longer help us as they once did. But that doesn’t mean you have a terminal psychiatric illness.

Most people do okay most of the time.

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Consult-Liaison Education Medicine Reading Reflection Systems

The Challenge of Going Off Psychiatric Drugs for Psychiatry.

Here are my initial reactions to the New Yorker’s The Challenge of Going Off Psychiatric Drugs:

Which populations are most likely to receive large numbers of psychiatric medications?

The woman described in the article comes from a family of money and privilege. These individuals (and families) have both the time and money to seek out psychiatrists who practice “precision psychopharmacology”. These psychiatrists then order complicated medication regimens that ostensibly address and “correct” neuroreceptors. As a consequence, people end up taking multiple medications.

There are also individuals who do not have money or privilege, but are subjected to psychiatric services due to the concerns of the public. They may be behaving in ways that endanger their own lives or the lives of others. As a consequence, they receive medications—sometimes willingly, sometimes through coercion—that aim to reduce certain behaviors. If one medication doesn’t reduce the behavior, then more are added.

What these two populations have in common are (a) the lack of clarity around diagnosis, which often stems from (b) missing information about the person and the context in which s/he lives.

I completely agree with Dr. Frances’s comment from the article:

[There is a] “cruel paradox: there’s a large population on the severe end of the spectrum who really need the medicine” and either don’t have access to treatment or avoid it because it is stigmatized in their community. At the same time, many others are “being overprescribed and then stay on the medications for years.”

The meanings of diagnosis and treatment, particularly medications.

Some people feel relief upon learning that their symptoms belong to a diagnosis, that what they have is “real”. Others don’t want the “label” of a psychiatric diagnosis; they are not damaged human beings.

For various reasons (e.g., the current primacy of biological psychiatry, insurance reimbursement, psychiatry’s seeming inferiority complex within medicine), treatment in psychiatry is often focused on medications. This is not ideal. Medications are a biological solution, though our understanding of the biology of the brain and mind remains limited.

In the meantime, doctors recommend that people take pills. Some people view pills as a necessary intervention to keep them healthy and well. Some people view pills as a shameful reminder that there is something wrong with them that will never improve. The more pills someone has to take, the more potent the reminder that they are beyond hope or repair. Some people view pills as an external validator of their pain and suffering: “Someone else believes and understands my pain and these pills remind them and me that my pain is real.”

The pills may not be treating what psychiatrists think they are treating.

The problems with psychiatric diagnosis.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) focuses only on the “what”, not the “why”.

It doesn’t matter why someone has a depressed mood, takes no pleasure in work or play, can’t sleep, won’t eat, and feels hopeless. The underlying reason could be the cardiologist’s realization that he should have pursued his dream of becoming an architect… or it could be the threat of eviction after losing one’s job.

This affects the way psychiatrists gather a history from people seeking care. Instead of learning the context behind one’s symptoms, psychiatrists now focus on whether certain symptoms are present or absent. What matters more is that she feels paranoid, not that the paranoia started when she learned that her father was molesting her sister.

To be clear, there are some instances in which the underlying “why” doesn’t matter. If someone is terrified of flying on a plane, there are treatments (e.g., exposure therapy) that can help people tolerate plane rides without getting into the reasons why this fear appeared in the first place.

In other instances, though, the “why” is often relevant. Since our understanding of the biology of the brain and mind are limited, we don’t know if the biological properties of Medication A are more useful in military veterans who have fought in combat or if those of Medication B are more useful in women who experience major depression after the birth of a baby. Even if evidence suggests that medications aren’t the best treatment for either population, it is often the easiest intervention to deliver. This is due to the context and underlying “whys” of the health care system.

All of the other psychiatrists.

It’s true that there is scant evidence about how to taper and stop medications. It is a shame that psychiatry, as a field, has nothing to say about deprescribing. The scientific literature has plenty to say about adding medications, but nothing that extols the virtues of taking them away. There are risks to stopping medications, yes, but why are psychiatrists unimpressed with the risks of starting them? In this way we have failed not only the people who receive care from us, but we also fail the people who step in to help in our absence: Other physicians, nurses, family members, friends.

When I consider the psychiatrists I have worked with with, many of them have helped people come off of medications. They work with their patients and go through the trial-and-error process together. While they may not work in ivory towers of acclaim, they are still doing the work of helping people make informed choices about their care so they can lead healthy and meaningful lives. These are the quiet anecdotes that will never make it into the New Yorker.

Psychiatry as an agent of social control.

This is not the first time I’ve written about psychiatry as an agent of social control.

What does it mean that “antidepressants are taken by one in five white American women”? Is this a reflection of white American women? Or a reflection of the society and systems that want to contain white American women?

What does it mean that African- and Latinx-Americans are more likely to receive diagnoses of psychotic disorders? Is this a reflection of these populations of color? Or a reflection of the society and systems that want to contain these populations?

Perhaps there needs to be a “Challenge of Going Off Psychiatric Drugs” for the field of psychiatry. To be clear, there is definitely a role for medications in the treatment of psychiatric disorders, though: first, do no harm. When The Royal We have more humility about what we do and do not know, and exercise more care in current pharmacological tools, then perhaps getting on or going off of psychiatric drugs won’t be a “challenge”.

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Consult-Liaison Reading Reflection

Antisocial Behaviors.

The anxieties and discord within my tiny world and the world at large have felt heavier as of late. Thus, my words do not flow today with the relative ease that they have under different conditions. (To be clear, I’m fine. Perhaps I am just more sensitive to the energies and emotions of others.)

I recently learned about “adulthood antisocial behavioral syndrome”. If you’re familiar with the definition of antisocial personality disorder, it’s essentially that without the requirement for conduct disorder before the age of 15. (If you’re not familiar with antisocial personality disorder, allow me to refer you to my 2013 post (!) that describes the condition.)

The prevalence of these two conditions (derived from surveys of the general public) surprised me: In the United States, about 4% of the population have antisocial personality disorder, and a striking 20% apparently have adulthood antisocial behavioral syndrome. If the prevalence is 20%, should we consider that a disorder? (Is that why it’s called a “syndrome”?) That means if you invite four of your friends over to your home, one person in that group has adulthood antisocial behavioral syndrome. (Maybe it’s you!)

For many reasons (it’s exhausting, I have insufficient data, I can’t do anything to help, etc.), I avoid the intellectual exercise of considering what psychiatric conditions certain public figures may have. That being said, regardless of who is President and which political party has the majority, it is common in psychiatric education to note that there are people in power who likely have antisocial personality disorder. These individuals just haven’t gotten caught (or have the resources to avoid punishment… or there are institutional factors that protect them).

But, for “fun”, let’s run the numbers. If 4% of the US population meet criteria for antisocial personality disorder, that means

  • four Senators and
  • 17 House Representativies

demonstrate a “pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others occurring since age 15 years”. (I’ll let you discuss amongst yourselves as to the identities of these individuals.) There are 15 Cabinet members and nine Supreme Court justices, so the chances are low that one person in either one of those groups has antisocial personality disorder.

If 20% of the US population meet criteria for adulthood antisocial behavioral syndrome, that means

  • 20 Senators
  • 87 House Representatives
  • one Supreme Court justice and
  • three Cabinet members

demonstrate a “pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others”… but did not do so before the age of 15.

The paper that describes the survey also notes that these two antisocial conditions are

highest among male, white, Native American, younger, and unmarried respondents, those with high school or less education, lower incomes, and Western residence

When we consider mass shootings (most certainly an antisocial behavior) in the US, most of them were committed by men… but also note that the vast majority of men don’t ever kill people.

The odds ratio for Native Americans struck me: What does that mean? Is this simply due to the low numbers of Native Americans in this country (i.e., small numbers inflate percentages)? What are the other confounders?

And what about the contexts? Aren’t there occasions when antisocial behaviors are adaptive? If someone threatens your life on a routine basis, is it (1) unreasonable to lie, (2) put your safety at risk when you try to escape the situation, and (3) perform poorly at work due to the stress in your life? You only need to meet three criteria to receive a diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder.

I’m also curious about the prevalences of adulthood antisocial behavioral syndrome in other countries. Does a 20% prevalence in the US mean anything? Do we demonstrate more antisocial behaviors than others on this planet? Maybe this is just human nature?

Some people say that intellectualization is a mature defense mechanism. I’ll let you decide if this post is simply a manifestation of whatever unconscious conflict roils in my psyche.

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Consult-Liaison Education Medicine Observations Reading

Hoping for Hope for Psychosis.

The American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology (ABPN) is running a pilot project: Psychiatrists and neurologists can read a set of articles and answer mini-quizzes over the course of a year instead of taking a multiple-choice exam. If the physician answers enough questions correctly in either activity, then this supports the application for board recertification.[1. To be clear, I feel frustration with the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology and their board recertification procedures. This “read articles and take mini-quizzes” is an encouraging improvement, but there are other aspects of board recertification that give me heartburn. This is why I am also a member of the National Board of Physicians and Surgeons.]

I am enrolled in the “read articles and take mini-quizzes” pilot. One of the mandated articles is “Improving outcomes of first-episode psychosis: an overview“. One of my professional interests is psychotic disorders (e.g., conditions wherein people report hearing voices and beliefs that do not appear rooted in reality). If you share that interest, you may find this article informative, too.

Note I said “informative”, not “encouraging”. Here are a selection of statements I found notable in the article:

Psychotic disorders such as schizophrenia are common, with 23.6 million prevalent cases worldwide in 2013. One in two people living with schizophrenia does not receive care for the condition. The recovery rates… and associated disability… following a first episode of psychosis have not improved over the past seventy years under routine clinical care. Although existing psychopharmacological treatments alone can reduce some symptoms, they have little impact on the outcome of the illness.

Oof. This is the first paragraph of the article! None of the statements surprise me, but when they are all put together like that… well, it makes me wonder: “When are we going to get better at this? When will we consistently help individuals with these conditions?”

At the moment, there are no approved [prevention interventions for individuals who are clinical high risk for psychosis] that have been shown to reliably alter the long-term course of the disorder.

Sigh. This speaks to population-level data. This means that we—the individual at high risk, the family and friends of this person, and any professionals involved at the time, if we happen to meet this person—grope around as we try to minimize the risk of illness. Maybe our efforts will work for This Person, but maybe they won’t for That Person. So we continue to work and hope.

The detrimental impact of illicit substance abuse on the long-term outcome of psychosis is well known, with a dose-dependent association.

Here in Washington State, we see a lot of people with psychotic symptoms who have used or are using methamphetamine. It ruins minds. I wish people would stop smoking/snorting/injecting it.

Marijuana is legal in this state and there is some evidence that cannabidiol (CBD), a compound found in marijuana, may reduce psychotic symptoms. Delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), also found in marijuana, can induce psychotic symptoms. This is problematic. Companies sell CBD on the internet and I have concerns about how people will run with this preliminary data.

[There is a] lack of stringent evidence for a robust effect of antipsychotics on relapse prevention in the long term….

The article summarizes evidence that suggests that antipsychotic medications may simply delay the relapse of psychotic symptoms, rather than prevent them from reappearing.

One of my early jobs was working in a geriatric adult home. My work there taught me that people with psychotic disorders can and do get better. The burdens of antipsychotic medications—paying for medications, the actual act of swallowing the pills every day, the side effects, some mild, some intense—add up. I was fortunate to work with some people to successfully reduce the doses of their antipsychotic medications and, in some cases, stop them completely! (There were also at least one instance when tapering medications was absolutely the wrong thing to do; that person ended up in the hospital. I felt terrible.)

When I reflect on that time, there were no guidelines about this. These decisions to taper medications—always with ongoing discussion and with the individual’s consent—were just an effort to “first, do no harm”. Context matters: I used as much data—from the individual, family and caregivers, and the literature—as I could find before embarking on deprescribing. Was I naive and reckless? Maybe. Was I just lucky? Maybe? Was I doing the best that I could with the information I had? I think so.

Schizophrenia features are strong predictors of poor long-term outcomes… when communicating with patients, it may be preferable to use the broader term psychosis rather than schizophrenia….

As far as I know, schizophrenia is the only psychiatric diagnosis that includes the criterion “Level of functioning… is markedly below the level achieved prior to the onset“. Even the neurocognitive disorders (dementias) don’t explicitly comment on a decline of “level of functioning”.

One wonders if the long-term outcomes in schizophrenia might be even just a little bit better if those of us who give the diagnosis of schizophrenia believed that people with this condition could get better. Do we, as a group, give this diagnosis out of resignation? And what message does that send to individuals experiencing these symptoms?

And what about that recommendation that we don’t discuss “schizophrenia” with individuals with psychotic symptoms? Indeed, for individuals presenting with “first episode psychosis”, this counsel is prudent. People with psychosis do get better. But, again, do we avoid using the term “schizophrenia” because of the connotations associated with that word? “… we don’t think you will ever get better.”

Maybe this is a circular argument: The reason why a decline in function is part of the definition of schizophrenia is because there is a decline in function in people diagnosed with schizophrenia.

But what about the people who meet all criteria for schizophrenia who get better?

The people who discern the pathophysiology of schizophrenia shall win the Noble Prize, for they will have figured out how the brain works. And perhaps, by that time, the articles about psychosis will give us all hope.

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Consult-Liaison Lessons Medicine Nonfiction Reflection

On Suicide.

I still feel a little anxiety whenever I ask someone about suicide.

I have no fear when asking The Question—“Have you been thinking about killing yourself?”—but sometimes I find that I’m not breathing while I await the answer.

What if this person says “yes”?

This anxiety persists even though it’s literally part of my job to ask this question. Despite having asked this question thousands of times, I still feel a twinge of unease whenever it is time to ask. I still feel nervous even though people have answered “yes” when I’ve asked The Question. I still wonder if my interventions will be effective despite knowing that I have helped people choose to live.

I still have to remind myself that it is a blessing if someone tells me, “Yes, I’ve been thinking about killing myself.” It means this person trusts me enough to share this information with me. It means this person has faith that I’m not going to freak out. It means that we can talk about death, what it means to this person, and why suicide seems like the best option. It means that there is hope that the conversation will lead to a discussion of other viable options.

It means that, in this moment, this person is willing to live.

During my training, I had several teachers who would offer gentle correction to people who said, “I feel suicidal.”

“‘Suicidal’ is a thought, not a feeling,” they would offer. “What are the emotions that are leading you to think about suicide?”

That snippet looks condescending and contrived on the screen. When said with skill, it steers the conversation to areas that can lead to change.

It is hard, if not impossible, to change emotions with willpower alone. Consider all the unseen things that can shift your emotions:

  • a fragrance that resurrects a memory from your youth
  • the sound of stranger’s voice that reminds you of another person
  • the feeling of the sun on your skin after a dark winter

Emotions are powerful. They can promote certain thoughts or drive certain behaviors. Sometimes emotions feel so overwhelming that, to cope, we have thoughts that death is the best option.

“Do you want to die? Or do you want to feel different?”

Whenever I learn that someone has died from suicide, I recall five specific people. Three of them tried to kill themselves while under my ongoing care:

  • one arrived in the clinic with long, bleeding lacerations on the both arms
  • one had spent hours on top of a tall structure, debating whether to jump off
  • one missed an appointment and I somehow knew that something had happened; this person used a friend’s gun and shot a bullet through the chest

Two of them did kill themselves:

  • one jumped off of a tall bridge
  • one took an intentional overdose of alcohol and methadone

There are people who I have worked with in acute settings—crisis centers, jail, emergency departments, medical and psychiatric hospitals—who tried to kill themselves, but never told me. There are people who have killed themselves after I met them, but I haven’t learned of their deaths.

I don’t think about the five people frequently, but they cross my mind from time to time. I hope the three are living lives they believe are worth living.

I say prayers for the two who are deceased, but the words of my prayers come from a language that has no shape or sound.

To prevent suicide, we must be willing and able to talk about it. This doesn’t mean that anxiety, fear, and discomfort are absent during conversations about death and dying. Talking about suicide does not increase the likelihood that people will kill themselves. In fact, these conversations often bring relief; it offers a perspective that frequently differs from the one that predominates in our heads.

The onus to broach this topic should not be solely on the person who is thinking about suicide. If we ever sense that people we love are not doing well, asking how they’re doing and learning more about what’s on their minds shows that we care.

When people are thinking about suicide, sometimes the best way we can help them is to let them know that we see them. We want them in our lives. And that may be how we can help them choose life.