Category: Systems

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Observations Reflection Systems

Us and Them and Homicide.

If an event doesn’t happen often, it’s difficult to predict when it will happen next. We can only talk about “risk factors”.

For example, no one can predict when an earthquake will occur. We can, however, talk about the risk of an earthquake. We know that the risk of an earthquake is much higher in Seattle than in Houston: Seattle is on a fault line while Houston is not. Because earthquakes are rare, though, we don’t know when Seattle will have an earthquake. We just know that it’s more likely to happen there than in Houston.

Homicide is also a rare event. In 2013, about five out of 100,000 people died from homicide. That means 99,995 out of 100,000 people did not die from homicide that year.[1. A reader told me that these numbers are confusing. More than 100,000 people died in the US in 2013. My point is that the vast majority of people don’t die from homicide. Communication is hard.] Compare that with suicide: In the same year about 13 out of 100,000 people died from suicide. That’s right: In the US, people are over twice as likely to kill themselves than other people.

Because homicide is such a rare event, it is difficult to predict when, where, and how it will occur. We can discuss risk factors (e.g., alcohol and other substance use; access to firearms; gang involvement; exposure to domestic violence and child abuse; previous history of fighting of violence), but none of those risk factors will help us predict when it will happen. There are adults who were beaten as children, drink alcohol now, and own a firearm… but they will never kill anyone.

The data is mixed about the association between mental illness and homicide.[2. Here are three papers that discuss mental illness and suicide:

] Based on numbers alone, though, it is both inaccurate and unfair to state that homicide is due to psychiatric conditions alone:

Compare that to the rate of homicide: 5 out of 100,000 people.

With increasing news reports of people killing others, my colleagues and I have wondered how we can intervene. Many people who have committed homicide have never encountered the mental health system. Even if they did, they may not have endorsed or demonstrated symptoms that would warrant any intervention, including a follow-up visit. We agree that individuals who kill others are disturbed, but they may not have a “mental illness” that is described in our field. (We then wonder: So what is going on with them?)

The book The Spirit Level describes the correlation between greater interpersonal violence in societies with greater inequality. The authors also show evidence of higher prevalences of psychiatric disorders, obesity, and teen pregnancies in societies that are more unequal.

While it is easier to attribute these acts of heartbreaking violence to individuals—They are the problem; this happens because They are “mentally ill”; Their religion dictates that They should kill people; We would never do that—perhaps we should attribute this violence to our society and our communities (or lack thereof).

How would our society function if everyone had food, clothing, and a home? What would happen if everyone had steady employment and income? How would relationships change if everyone in school and at work learned how to recognize their emotions and practiced coping skills? What would happen if people didn’t drink, use drugs, or resort to violence when feeling distressed? What would shift if everyone had the chance to go to school and learn about different people, places, and ideas? How would things be different if people didn’t feel hopeless and helpless? What if people believed their communities could create something better? What if people didn’t believe that the only solution involves destruction?

It is easy to blame Them: They have mental illness; They believe in a religion that is false; there is something wrong with Them.

They and We, however, are part of the same community. Until we realize that we must work together to reduce risk factors and help each other, we cannot expect that these tragic events will stop.

Categories
Education Nonfiction Policy Reflection Systems

A Review of the National Council for Behavioral Health Conference.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter already know that I spent much of last week in Las Vegas. I attended the National Council for Behavioral Health Conference, “featuring the best in leadership, organizational development, and excellence in mental health and addictions practice.” Here are my reflections about the experience:

It was large. I have never attended a conference with 5000 other people. I already find Las Vegas overstimulating. Not being able to get away from thousands of people for hours on end was draining for me.

There were many sessions I wanted to attend, but could not. This, of course, was a function of the size of the conference. Humans, thus far, can only physically be in one place and mentally elsewhere. During this conference I often wished I could physically be in two places at once.

The sessions that most inspired me often had little to do with formal behavioral health. Nora Volkow, the director for the National Institute of Drug Abuse, gave a talk about the neurobiology of addictive behaviors. Did I learn anything new? No, only because I had learned this while in medical training. Did she present the information in an engaging and compelling way? Yes.

Charles Blow, an opinion writer for the New York Times, authored a memoir about his youth and past sexual abuse. During his talk he read from his book and shared his reflections about his experience. Did I learn anything new? Nothing obvious that would affect either my clinical practice or policy considerations. He won me over with his personal perspective, grace, and vulnerability.

Susan Cain spoke about introversion and leadership. Did I learn anything new? No, because I had already read her book. Was it nonetheless worthwhile to hear her speak in person? For me, yes.

The conference featured a large session called “Uncomfortable Conversations”. The intention was for Big Names in the field to discuss controversial topics. These included involuntary commitment, confidentiality laws that are specific to substance use disorder treatment that can interfere with clinical care, and the concept of cultural competency. Each pair, however, had less than ten minutes to discuss their issue. The moderator also seemed to speak more than each member of the pair. The session could have been thoughtful, though ended up feeling underdeveloped and unfocused.

Where were my psychiatrist colleagues? I understand that this is my own issue—after all, this was not a physician conference. The National Council, however, is supposed to be the leadership conference for community behavioral health. Are psychiatrists involved in leadership in community behavioral health? If not, why not? [1. As I have noted elsewhere: “Physicians, as a population, don’t advocate for ourselves as much as we should because we’re “too busy taking care of patients”. This is true. However, our busy-ness creates a vacuum where non-physicians step in and make decisions for us. We then express resentment that we have to follow the edicts of people who have never done the work. If we did a better job of regulating and advocating for ourselves, we might not be in this position.” Advocacy in this case is leadership.]

Only two “small” sessions I attended featured physician presentations. One involved the introduction of trauma-informed care into primary care settings. The other discussed a concrete integration of mental health, substance use, and primary care services. In both cases the physicians were family practice physicians. Which, to be clear, is fantastic. We must work across systems to provide good care for individuals and populations. I nonetheless felt both puzzled and disappointed with the lack of psychiatrist representation. [2. To be fair, Nora Volkow and several of the panelists for the “Uncomfortable Conversations” are trained as psychiatrists.]

There was a “medical track” meant for medical professionals. Few of those sessions discussed systems issues or leadership. I had planned to attend one that discussed guidelines for benzodiazepine use, though there was no room by the time I arrived. (One of my colleagues, a psychiatrist, later told me that many attendees were not doctors.)

The conference will be in Seattle next year. My colleagues and I are already discussing what we can present.

A lot of people want to do good. I often comment, “Life is terrible… and life is wonderful.” That people have done good work to help others and want to share what they learned in the process is remarkable. That people continue to strive to provide useful services to people who are suffering is humbling. That people are creating new programs to help solve problems, often rooted in inequality, a variety of disparities, and the randomness of existence, is inspiring.

When we have our heads down in our own work, we often forget that we are part of a system. Though I have critical opinions about the conference, I am grateful that I could attend. May we all seek inspiration and always learn from others.

Categories
Policy Systems

Guns, Mental Illness, and Background Checks.

To my knowledge, I’ve only had one “long-term” patient attempt suicide with a gun. [1. I have worked with other people who have tried to kill themselves with guns. They usually report that these attempts had occurred years ago. Other people told me that they owned guns, but had no desire to kill themselves in the time we worked together. Still others owned guns and were struggling with ideas of suicide. Thankfully, we were able to work through this together and these people chose life. Then there are people who own guns and want to kill themselves, but share neither detail with me. I don’t know who they are because I either (1) never meet them in the first place or (2) I never see them again.]

This Person Who Attempted Suicide with a Gun did not show up for an appointment one day. For reasons I could not explain, I had great concerns that This Person had attempted suicide. After leaving several phone messages, I got a phone call from This Person, who was in the hospital.

“I swallowed a bullet,” This Person said.

“What?”

“I don’t know how it happened, but I swallowed a bullet.”

When I later spoke to This Person’s hospital physician, I learned that This Person had not swallowed a bullet. A bullet had gone through This Person’s chest wall, through a lung, and out the back.

I told This Person what I had learned.

“It was my friend’s gun,” This Person said. “I went over when no one was at home.”

The New York Times has a short article about “Why People With Mental Illness Are Able to Obtain Guns“. [2. While the title of this article, “Why People With Mental Illness Are Able to Obtain Guns”, is simply an accurate description of the piece, I still feel annoyed with it. I think my reaction is due to the pairing of “mental illness” and “guns”. There is no reference that most deaths from guns are due to suicide. Where are the articles that pair guns with other conditions? “Why People With Substance Use Disorders Are Able to Obtain Guns”? “Why People With Incurable, Painful Diseases Are Able to Obtain Guns”? “Why People in Financial Ruin Are Able to Obtain Guns”?] One reason offered is “Their Mental Health Records Are Not Accessible”. The author, unfortunately, does not provide much elaboration on this, which alarmed me. Just what records would the FBI National Instant Criminal Background Check System have access to? If it is accurate that about one in five Americans will experience any mental illness in a year, how much private health information will the FBI have access to?

The government released a document, “Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) Privacy Rule and the National Instant Criminal Background Check System (NICS)“, that clarifies some of this. The summary from the document notes:

Among the persons subject to the Federal mental health prohibitor established under the Gun Control Act of 1968 and implementing regulations issued by the Department of Justice (DOJ) are individuals who have been involuntarily committed to a mental institution; found incompetent to stand trial or not guilty by reason of insanity; or otherwise have been determined by a court, board, commission, or other lawful authority to be a danger to themselves or others or to lack the mental capacity to contract or manage their own affairs, as a result of marked subnormal intelligence or mental illness, incompetency, condition, or disease. (emphasis mine)

Thus, three populations of people will have their “mental health records” accessible to the FBI National Instant Criminal Background Check System:

  1. people who have been hospitalized against their wills for psychiatric reasons
  2. people who are deemed by a court to be incompetent to stand trial, or the court ruled that they are not guilty by reason of insanity
  3. people who are deemed by a lawful authority to be a danger to themselves or others, or are “gravely disabled” (unable to care for themselves)

The summary adds:

The disclosure is restricted to limited demographic and certain other information needed for NICS purposes. The rule specifically prohibits the disclosure of diagnostic or clinical information, from medical records or other sources, and any mental health information beyond the indication that the individual is subject to the Federal mental health prohibitor.

This offers partial relief, though I still have concerns:

  • What is the “limited demographic” information? Name? Age? Sex? Race?
  • What is the “certain other information”? Country of birth? Political party registration? Contacts with law enforcement in the past year? Religious affiliation?

This Person who “swallowed a bullet” was ultimately “involuntarily committed to a mental institution”. Under Washington State law, This Person lost the right to own a firearm because of the involuntary detention.

As such, I generally agree with the three populations described above in the “mental health prohibitor”. There is data that argues that people who own guns are more likely to complete suicide. There is also data that argues that people are more likely to complete suicide in the first few weeks after discharge from a psychiatric hospital. I would not want This Person to purchase a gun and attempt suicide again.

However, This Person used someone else’s gun in the suicide attempt. Neither Washington State law nor this new Federal rule has relevance.

I don’t know what the answer is.

Increasing the amount of data in background checks may help reduce suicides and homicides. The current implementation, however, may only increase stigma for people with mental health conditions. We want to increase the awareness and acceptance of mental health conditions. We don’t want to increase fear.

It does not appear that banning guns outright is possible. I am also not totally convinced that an outright firearm ban would result in less gun homicides due to some of the reasons listed here. Would a ban on guns decrease suicides? Maybe, as states with firearm registration and licensing regulations seem to have less suicides.

As I have noted elsewhere, a psychiatric diagnosis alone does not explain why people kill other people, whether with guns or other means. Yes, there are sociopaths who kill people, but they are extremely uncommon. Does the mental health of a society affect and shape the mental health of an individual? Does context matter?

If so, how can we as a society help change the context?

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Consult-Liaison Education Funding Medicine Policy Systems

The Value of Psychiatrists.

While slogging through a crappy first draft of a document about the value of psychiatrists in mental health and substance use disorder services, I did a literature search for supporting evidence.

I found nothing.[1. Physicians, as a population, don’t advocate for ourselves as much as we should because we’re “too busy taking care of patients”. This is true. However, our busy-ness creates a vacuum where non-physicians step in and make decisions for us. We then express resentment that we have to follow the edicts of people who have never done the work. If we did a better job of regulating and advocating for ourselves, we might not be in this position.]

“So how exactly are we helpful?” I mused out loud. Maybe we aren’t: There are groups out there who do not believe that psychiatrists can or do help anyone.

I am an N of 1. Therefore, this post is an anecdote, not evidence. Nonetheless:

Psychiatrists provide psychiatric services. These are increasingly limited to only medication management, which is unfortunate. Psychiatrists need psychotherapy skills—or, abilities to connect with people to build trusting and respectful relationships—to do effective medication management. I can write dozens of prescriptions and change doses as much as I want, but if the person I am working with doesn’t trust me, none of my tinkering matters.

When people think about medication management, they often think only of adding medications or exchanging one for another. Medication management also includes helping people come off of medications. This “deprescribing” also requires the use of psychotherapy skills: Some people feel great discomfort when coming off of medications. Sometimes the reasons are physiological; sometimes they’re psychological. Psychotherapeutic interventions and education are necessary in helping people cope with and overcome these discomforts.[2. For any psychiatrists out there: You could build an entire practice around “deprescribing”. This is one of the most common clinical requests I receive through my blog. I don’t have a private practice, so I turn all these people away. To be clear, deprescribing isn’t limited to private practices; I deprescribe in my clinical work in the jail.]

Psychiatrists often have the most clinical expertise. Most have had exposure to the spectrum of psychiatric services (in residency training) and thus have perspective about how systems work (or fail). Thus, psychiatrists can provide clinical consultation about specific patients and program design, implementation, and improvement. One example is the use of medication assisted treatment for substance use disorders. Certain programs or agencies may believe in abstinence only and will view medications as another misused substance. That perspective is not invalid, though giving people more options may help someone reach the goal of abstinence.

Psychiatrists can provide education to other staff to improve their clinical skills, which can elevate the quality of care clients receive across the agency. Psychiatrists can also provide leadership and influence the direction and ethos of a clinical service. For example, you can imagine how a psychiatrist might influence a service if he believes that the only way to help patients is to convince them to take psychotropic medications forever. A different psychiatrist who believes that employment or housing may be more effective than medication for some patients would provide a different influence.

Psychiatrists can triage patients who are in crisis. A roving psychiatrist on the streets or visiting people in their homes often can’t do things like draw blood, but they can assess people and circumstances to determine whether a visit to the emergency department can be avoided. Psychiatrists can also provide strong advocacy: Psychiatrists can work with law enforcement so that people who would be better served in a hospital actually go to the hospital, and not to jail. Similarly, if someone who has a significant psychiatric condition requires medical attention, psychiatrists can talk with hospital staff to advocate for this. Too many of us have stories about our patients who needed medical interventions, but others thought their symptoms were entirely due to psychiatric conditions.

Psychiatrists go through medical training and often have ongoing contact with other medical specialties. They are thus familiar with the practical realities of communication about and coordination of care for patients across systems. While overcoming the financial and policy hurdles to integrate care are important, the reason why integration matters (or, at least why I hope it matters) is to improve the experience for the patient. Administrators should consider the interaction and experience between the physician and the patient as paramount. The system should not sacrifice that relationship to make administration easier.

This is the message that all physicians, psychiatrists or otherwise, need to communicate to administrators. We don’t do ourselves any favors by assuming that people know what value we bring to patients or to the system. Sometimes it also helps to remind ourselves, too, so we can improve our work for the people we serve.

Categories
Lessons Medicine Reflection Systems

Reflections on Psychiatry.

A medical student named Anthony sent me an e-mail and asked:

Are [the items listed below] things that have nagged at you during your training or as a psychiatrist now? How do you deal with the ambiguity of psychiatry, or do you find that as your clinical experience grows, you find yourself more reassured in what you do from seeing your patients improve? Where do you see psychiatry going in the next couple of decades? I understand these are big questions, but I feel it would be incredibly helpful to hear from someone who’s been practicing for a while.

Indeed, these are big questions, but the big questions make us reflect on what we do: What is the point? Why do we bother? Are we doing the “right” thing?

Are these things that have nagged at you during your training or as a psychiatrist now?

The things Anthony listed as frustrations—the primacy of the biological model, the lack of novel and consistently effective medications, the role of medications and pharmaceutical companies, the medicalization of “normal” human experience—resonate with me, too. These things bothered me while I was in medical school, irritated me when I was a resident, and continue to vex me as an attending.

What bothers me the most is how psychiatry can become an agent of social control. Psychiatry can lend its vocabulary and constructs to authorities to oppress or exclude certain populations.

Consider the spate of school shootings. If we label the shooters as “mentally ill”, that distracts from the culture of fear and violence. Homosexuality was a legitimate psychiatric diagnosis until 1973. African Americans are more likely to receive diagnoses of schizophrenia.

Words are powerful. The ramifications of diagnosis are serious. We must not forget how our words can affect how people perceive themselves and how others treat them.

This overlaps with the medicalization of human experience. Is it okay that people receive Xanax from physicians when they are grieving the death of a loved one? Is it okay that students receive Adderall from physicians when they are striving for academic excellence? Is it okay that people from other cultures receive antipsychotic medication from physicians when they report hearing the voices of their ancestors?

My discomfort with this has affected my practice: I purposely choose to work with people who exhibit symptoms that rarely overlap with the general spectrum of human experience. Most people do not believe that someone has stolen their internal organs. Most people do not drink a fifth of alcohol each day to cope with guilt and shame. Most people do not fear that aliens will execute them if they move into housing from the streets.

A natural consequence of working with this population is that advocacy becomes a large part of the work: People with severe conditions can and do get better. Most people enter medicine to help people, to see people get better. The gains in this population may take longer and sometimes may not be as great as in other populations, but they do occur.

How do you deal with the ambiguity of psychiatry, or do you find that as your clinical experience grows, you find yourself more reassured in what you do from seeing your patients improve?

I learned early on that, if I don’t know the answer, the best thing to do is to say, “I don’t know.” It can be hard to say that out loud because we don’t want to admit our ignorance to ourselves or to others. Perhaps the difficulty isn’t the ambiguity of psychiatry. Maybe the challenge is managing our own vulnerability.

This is how I deal with the ambiguity:

  • I remind myself that it is impossible for me—or for anyone—to know everything. That doesn’t mean I give up and walk away: I do the work to learn as much as I can. The learning never stops, even when I want it to.
  • I remind myself that I will mess up. I hope that I will make fewer mistakes as I advance in my career, but I trust that I will screw up. I also hope that I will have the wisdom and humility to learn from my errors and avoid them in the future.
  • I remind myself to “First, do no harm.” I may feel pressure[1. Know that the system will often put pressure on you to “do something”. That doesn’t mean the system is right. Unless someone is dying in that moment, there is always time to stop and think.] to “do” something—prescribe a medication! send someone to the hospital! intervene right now! There is always time to pause and consider: “Will this cause (more) harm?” To be clear, I don’t advocate living life through avoidance. Sometimes the way to navigate ambiguity is to avoid actions that will make things worse.

I’m sure this isn’t the first time you have heard an attending say this: The farther along I go the more I realize how little I know. There is so much more for me to learn.

Where do you see psychiatry going in the next couple of decades?

Experts are much better at describing base rates than they are at predicting the future.[2. This idea about base rates and predictions comes from the book Decisive, which I recommend with enthusiasm.] This is an important question that deserves more reflection. Different ideas spin in my head: Psychiatry will have to reconcile with people who have experienced mistreatment from our field. Psychiatry must examine social determinants of health and scrutinize how they affect diagnosis and treatment. Psychiatry must collaborate with other fields and cannot expect that isolation will actually help patients, our colleagues, or the specialty.

For you (and me) I would add that we cannot expect to influence or change a system if we do not take part in it.[3. Full disclosure: I am not a member of the American Psychiatric Association. My values do not seem to align with theirs. However, who am I to complain about the values of the APA if I’m not willing to help shift them? And how can I contribute to any shift if I do not join them?]

Good questions, Anthony. I encourage you to ask other psychiatrists these same questions. Regardless of which field you choose to enter, I hope you continue to exercise curiosity and healthy skepticism of the work you do. This will not only help you grow as a person and physician, but will also help your patients and field of expertise.