Category: Observations

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COVID-19 Nonfiction Observations Seattle

Spacious in Seattle.

Downtown Seattle isn’t completely empty, but there is suddenly more space. Buses zoom by, though they carry few passengers. Rush hour traffic is a faint memory as cars speed along the avenues. Instead of weaving my way through crowds of people, I now have meters of sidewalk all to myself.

I went on a cookie break this afternoon. The sole employee in the cookie shop saw me pause at the front door while I read the sign: “Express window is open”. From inside, she beckoned me to walk three meters to the right, and when I arrived at the window, she slid it open.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Do you have day-olds?”

“Yes, right here.” She waved a gloved hand over the small basket sitting just inside the window. Cookies, stacked three high, were wrapped tightly in saran wrap. I selected a standard chocolate chip stack and a double chocolate stack.

While we waited for the credit card reader, we talked about these extraordinary times.

“Thanks for providing cookies to those of us who are working.”

“Thank you for buying them!”

“Yes, I’m glad that this shop is open. At least we have jobs.”

She nodded vigorously, then added, “Yeah, we are lucky.”

About an hour earlier, I asked one of the younger nurses at the agency how she was doing. She said that she was doing okay, then shared that she was grateful that she still had a job. She grimaced while she shared this anecdote: “Have you heard of This Fancy Restaurant? They laid off all of their staff on the same day. They can’t even collect unemployment.”

After tucking the two stacks of cookies into my coat, I saw this:

handwash

The restaurant serves a type of Asian cuisine. The man behind the counter was helping a customer, so I didn’t go in to thank him. Had I done so, I think I would’ve started crying.

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Medicine Nonfiction Observations Reflection

Work Spouses and Mentors.

I recently had dinner with a good friend. He and I trained together at the same time and he has since gone on to become a super fancy academic psychologist on the East Coast. Over dinner, he opined that an optimal work situation includes two components: a “work spouse”, and a mentor.

“The work spouse is at the same level as you—same training, same work,” he said between bites of lasagna. “And a mentor is a mentor.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. My mind recalled the respect and affection I had for all of my “work spouses” over the years:

  • Chris and Sohan both made me laugh, helped me with the endless scutwork to get me out of the hospital, and helped me keep things in perspective when we were interns.
  • Ryan, Scott, and Ryan also made me laugh, provided thoughtful clinical consultation, and gave sage personal advice while we became less human during residency. There was even that time when we were all on call on the same night, but at different sites… and we called each other sometime between 3am and 4am just to check in. Ryan and Scott also taught me how to throw a football; the other Ryan taught me how to improve my storytelling.
  • Sharon made me laugh during fellowship (do we see a theme here?) and provided an international perspective about community psychiatry. Sharon and her husband also invited me to experience a Passover Seder.
  • Joe made me laugh (…) and helped me cope with the stress and discomfort of 15-minute medication appointments. He also validated my opinion that such a model neither matched my values nor allowed me to provide the care that I believe people deserve.
  • Craig also made me laugh, helped me think through difficult clinical quandaries, and also validated the privileges and challenges associated with working in a jail.

In two cases I didn’t have a “work spouse”. They were both medical director positions… and in both instances I was the only physician who worked in those parts of the organizations. Let me be the not-first to say that, yes, doctors think about and approach things differently. Sometimes it’s useful; sometimes it annoys the heck out of everyone else. It’s often isolating: On the one hand, sometimes people elevate an opinion simply because it comes from a doctor; on the other hand, sometimes people disregard an opinion because the doctor’s perspective seems irrelevant. Both reactions are problematic.

“I haven’t had a mentor in years,” I said after a long pause. “Maybe that’s because there aren’t a lot of Asian women who work in public sector psychiatry?”

That might be true, but I don’t know that for sure (though, as I have progressed in my career, it seems that there are few psychiatrists who choose to work in public sector, non-hospital, non-clinic settings). My mind ran through the people I have considered mentors:

  • Randall, a gastroenterologist, taught me in medical school how to remember that patients are people.
  • James, a psychiatrist, highlighted the intellectual rewards of psychiatry and is arguably the person who persuaded me to pursue a career in psychiatry instead of internal medicine.
  • Matthew, an infection disease physician who longtime readers recognize at the Special Attending, demonstrated the intellect, kindness, and humanity that we want our doctors to possess. He was one of the few attendings I worked with who brought cold water and warm blankets to patients when they requested them.
  • Dick, a pharmacist, not only knew a ton about medications, but also dispensed Taoist wisdom about how to manage people in distress… including ourselves.
  • Deb, a psychiatry residency program director, demonstrated a steady grace and cool serenity despite the tumult of resident distress. I still recall and admire her steady support and faith.
  • Brad, a psychiatrist, taught me that “patients are called patients because they are patient with us” and that, while we have the privilege of helping people, we should discard any “rescue fantasies”. The true heroes are the patients, not us.
  • Sarah, a psychiatrist who worked as a medical director for a major US city, validated my interest in working at the boundaries of fields and also encouraged me to apply for positions that I thought were out of my league. “If something scares you, you should do it.”
  • Van, the only boss I’ve had who is both a psychiatrist an a person of color, continues to provide sage career advice and said that words, “Everyone should receive high quality psychiatric care, whether they go to a nice office on Park Avenue or if they sleep on a bench.” Just knowing that someone else thinks that makes me feel less lonely.

At the risk of sounding woo-woo, though, we can all find mentorship everyday. Everyone can be our teachers if we are willing to be students. I think about the bus driver who greets everyone with a warm smile, but has no qualms about commanding—firmly, but politely—a rider to stop harassing vulnerable people who are also on the bus. Consider the finance officer with no formal authority who speaks up during a meeting to advocate for more transparency in fiscal affairs. What about that coworker who picks up the litter in the lobby when he thinks no one is watching? Because he wants to leave a place looking better than it did when he walked in?

If you are fortunate to have a work spouse, bring him or her a treat. If you don’t think you have a mentor, remember that there are others who can provide guidance and inspiration.

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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.

Categories
Nonfiction Observations Seattle Systems

What Seattle Got From Amazon.

Yesterday’s New York Times had an article with the title “Amazon’s HQ2 Will Benefit From New York City. But What Does New York Get?” I don’t know what New York (and Crystal City) will get, but here are my observations (as someone who lived in Seattle from 2004 to 2008, and then from 2011 to now) as to what Seattle got:

Lots of young people. Some of these people look like they’re 12 years old, but that’s because I’m now officially old. And some of these young people, fresh out of college, make six-figure salaries. Sometimes it shows. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Lots of blue badges. Amazon employees wear blue badges. You can tell your proximity from the Amazon campus (which is a campus; it occupies an entire neighborhood) by the density of blue badges hanging from lanyards, dangling off of belts, and swinging off of coats.

Food trucks. The young people apparently like food trucks. Caravans of food trucks rumble towards South Lake Union, the site of the Amazon campus. The rotating food trucks sell Thai bowls, Italian sandwiches, barbecue wings, Turkish kebabs, Hawaiian poke bowls, and other international cuisines from their portable kitchens.

Hip restaurants that sell overpriced food. Here’s an anecdote that I share with some bitterness: One such restaurant has the following item on its dessert menu:

Warm chocolate chunk cookie with whole milk. $8.

Long-time readers know that I am fond of cookies, particularly the chocolate chip variety. Upon seeing this item, my eyes lit up, but the light drained from my eyes when I saw the price.

“No cookie and milk is worth $8,” I said. “Even my favorite cookie (the Levain Chocolate Chip Walnut Cookie) is just $4.”

“But what if it is the best chocolate cookie you will ever eat?” my husband countered.

“I doubt it. This is a restaurant, not a bakery.”

“Let me buy it for you.”

I relented and ordered the warm chocolate chunk cookie with whole milk, my taste buds eager and my mind skeptical.

What actually arrived? Two cookies, each about four inches in diameter, and a glass holding about six ounces of milk. The cookies were barely warm, the chocolate was not chunky, and the overall texture of the cookies was dry. The milk was wholly unremarkable. The dessert was rich only in the flavor of disappointment.

These restaurants can charge $8 for cookies and milk because they know that the young people who work at Amazon have no qualms spending such a ridiculous sum on a treat that is sweet only in memory.

Traffic. The tens of thousands of people who moved to the Seattle metropolitan area have to get around somehow. When I was a resident, I saw few taxis downtown or on Capitol Hill. Taxis of all colors now zip around the city, along with ride sharing vehicles. There are a lot more fancy cars—Teslas, Porsches, and the like—crawling up the hills. The buses, streetcars, and trains are packed with well-heeled young people.

High rents and expensive homes. The city of Seattle is in King County. The average rent in King County is $1,731, which doesn’t seem impressive compared to rents in other major metropolitan areas. The rent in King County, though, has increased 155% in the past twenty years. Furthermore, Seattle, by far, is the most expensive and developed city in the region and pulls the average up, as other areas in the county are sparsely populated and considered rural.

Income inequality. I don’t know if Amazon was/is the cause of the homelessness crisis in this region (remember, correlation does not mean causation). As young people with gobs on money have moved in, more people with little money have moved out onto the streets. Certainly the higher rents have pushed many people out of the city: Some people work in Seattle and live in neighboring counties, as that is the only way they can afford their rent or mortgage. Landlords in Seattle know that they can charge nearly $3000 for a one-bedroom apartment because someone from Amazon can afford to pay that. (Just like restaurants can charge $8 for cookies and milk.)

Anti-Amazon and anti-Jeff Bezos graffiti. It is not uncommon to see graffiti painted on sidewalks and buildings that denounce Amazon and Jeff Bezos. Some of it is frankly disturbing (e.g., death threats), though it illustrates the strong feelings people have about Amazon.

Spherical buildings. They took all the trees / And put ’em in a tree museum / And they charged the people / A dollar and a half to seem ’em

Amazon has done well for itself, though it seems that many people in Seattle have an uneasy relationship with Amazon. They like what Amazon has to offer, but don’t like how the wealth of the company has affected the city. Perhaps the leadership of New York and Crystal City will forge closer working relationships with Amazon from the outset to prevent the congestion, big income disparities, and resentment[1. The resentment that people have for Amazon also comes from its own employees. For a while I worked in a clinic where some of my patients were Amazon employees. They often spoke of the pressures working at Amazon, whether they worked in programming, marketing, supply chain, or warehousing. There’s likely selection bias at play, but their work nonetheless induced anxiety and affected their abilities to cope.] that occurred in Seattle.

Categories
Homelessness Lessons Medicine NYC Observations Reflection Seattle

The Kind of Energy We Send Out to the World.

I have been writing; I just haven’t posted anything here. These days, it seems that we cannot escape increasing types of noise and their loud volumes. It’s not all noise, but the signals are overwhelming.

It was a busy teaching week for me: I had the privilege to speak at two community clinics and a public hospital. In all three presentations I commented on the tension between “the system” and our efforts as individuals. When we’re trying to provide care and services to individuals, sometimes the constraints of “the system” interfere with our efforts: Sometimes fiscal concerns reign supreme; sometimes the bureaucracy is inflexible; sometimes the system does not have noble intentions. We grumble, we get angry, we feel helpless.

When we’re trying to design “the system” to provide care and services, sometimes the constraints of people interfere with our efforts: Sometimes there aren’t enough people; sometimes people make mistakes; sometimes people do not have noble intentions. We grumble, we get angry, we feel helpless.

The two, of course, are related: People design systems. People work within systems. People can change systems.

People also have values. Sometimes we find that our values clash with those of the systems we work and live in. That doesn’t mean that we must defer to the values of the system. It takes courage to resist. To show our values to the world without flinching is an act of bravery.

While speaking, I told a story about my first boss when I finally started working as an attending psychiatrist. Our jobs included working with people who were homeless in New York City.

“I want people who don’t have a place to live to get excellent care,” he said, perhaps talking more to himself than to me. “Good care shouldn’t be limited to people who can afford to pay a psychiatrist who works out of a plush office on Park Avenue. People who don’t have money should have access to and get good care, too.”

“These are choices under our control,” I said to the audience yesterday, perhaps talking more to myself than to them. “Even though system pressures are very real, you can choose to give good care to the people who come here for help. You can treat people with dignity and respect, particularly if they are people of color with very low incomes. They might not get dignity or respect elsewhere.”

Perhaps my exhortations sound naive. Perhaps cynicism will triumph over virtue. However, I refuse to embrace cynicism. Cynicism makes for terrible company. Life is already full of challenges; we do not need negative soundtracks to accompany us as we travel through life. What we do affects others. What we say can inspire others.

We have responsibility for the kind of energy we send out to the world.