the benefits of being wrong

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JOURNAL OF GENERALINTERNAL MEDICINE, Volume 9 (May), 1994 28S 3. Blackhall LJ, Ziogas A, Azen SP. Low survival rate after cardiopul- monary resuscitation in a country hospital. Arch Intern Med. 1992; 152:2045- 58. 4. Cummins RO, Chamberlain DA, Abramson NS, et al. Recommended guidelines for uniform reporting of data from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest: the Utstein style. Ann Emerg Med. 1991;20:861-74. 5. Eisenberg MS, Cummins RO, Damon S, Larsen MP, Hearne TR. Survival rates from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest: recommendations for uniform definitions and data to report. Ann Emerg Med. 1990; 19:1249-59. 6. Eisenberg MS, Cummins RO, Larsen MP. Numerators, denominators, and survival rates: reporting survival from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. Am J Emerg Med. 1991;9:544-6. 7. Valenzuela TD, Spaite DW, Meislin HW, Clark LL, Wright AL, Ewy GA. Case and survival definitions in out-of-hospital cardiac arrest, effect on survival rate calculation. JAMA. 1992;267;272-4. 8. Jastremski MS. In-hospital cardiac arrest. Ann Emerg Med. 1993;22: 113-7. 9. American Heart Association. Textbook of Advanced Cardiac Life Support, 2nd ed. Dallas, TX: American Heart Association, 1990. REFLECTIONS The Benefits of Being Wrong I SAW JENNY this weekend. Despite her total lack of hair (hidden by a scarf), she looked good, and well. She" ate and she didn't cough, both visible signs of a remarkable improvement. She walked without shortness of breath. Her smile was somehow more complete. My reaction to Jenny's improvement is a paradox. I feel some guilt and shame but I'm extremely grateful to still have her around. Jenny got breast cancer a few years ago. She had surgery and chemotherapy and radiation. During that time we were all hopeful. Because we lived far apart then and I wasn't witness to the cyclical horrors of her chemother- apy, I denied her illness. After all, on the occasions when I saw her, she looked well. One year ago, though, Tom, her husband, broke the news of a recurrence. It was then that I accepted her illness and it became real. More chemotherapy and radiation en- sued. We lived closer now, for one thing, and this time the trips to the doctor, the pain, and the vomiting were less deniable. Just a few months ago came more bad news---new metastases to her lungs, severe shortness of breath and oxygen. When my wife told me, with tears, I went into my doctor mode. Maintaining my composure, I said that we needed to prepare for the worst. Jenny was dying. We wouldn't have her for much longer. The prognosis was grim. We both spoke of how hard this must be for her two teenage children. There was talk of more chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant. Jenny had lots of doubts, which she expressed to my wife. I think she was leaning toward not doing any more. I didn't talk to Jenny directly about my feelings because I was afraid I'd influence her. I spoke, to my wife alone, about how comfort care might be her best option, about how I wasn't sure more chemotherapy or the transplant was worth it. But, as luck would have it, she developed acute cardiac tamponade and was rushed into a pericardial tap and win- dow. I think this very real brush with death motivated some instinct and Jenny reluctantly undertook another round of chemotherapy. When I next saw her, I was dev- astated by her appearance. She was short of breath, in pain, housebound, using oxygen, and, you could tell, just tol- erating her situation. This was not the old Jenny who was a philosopher, a teacher, a mother, always smiling, rarely anxious, a comfort to be around. There was no comfort now. There were sleepless nights, lots of pills, chronic nausea, no appetite, Hickman catheters, and lots of shots. My pessimism was validated. I was almost smug within my sorrow. After all, I had predicted this. And then they came this weekend. A long trip with no oxygen and she brought apple pies she had made. She ate with us and talked. I saw the love she and Tom shared. I watched her laugh with both her children and mine. Her chest x-ray and various scans have cleared. Her wounds are healing. In short, the old Jenny is back. And this is the source of my guilt. As a physician, I'd once again been lulled into morbid complacency by statistics. I don't know how Jenny feels, but whatever chemotherapy had to give, those hours this weekend were worth it, at least for me. She looked good enough to live. I hadn't predicted this. Therein lies the paradox. Jenny's improvement has forced me to accept that I was wrong. If it had been up to me, Jenny would have been buried by now. Even though I still know the odds are against her, this weekend was a miracle for me. If she had died in a car wreck on the way home, my last memories would be pleas- ant ones. Thank God Jenny's alive. Thank God I wasn't her doctor. KEITH WRENN, MD Emergency Medicine Residency, Vanderbilt Univers#y Medical Center, Nashville, Tennessee

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Page 1: The benefits of being wrong

JOURNAL OF GENERAL INTERNAL MEDICINE, Volume 9 (May), 1994 28S

3. Blackhall LJ, Ziogas A, Azen SP. Low survival rate after cardiopul- monary resuscitation in a country hospital. Arch Intern Med. 1992; 152:2045- 58.

4. Cummins RO, Chamberlain DA, Abramson NS, et al. Recommended guidelines for uniform reporting of data from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest: the Utstein style. Ann Emerg Med. 1991;20:861-74.

5. Eisenberg MS, Cummins RO, Damon S, Larsen MP, Hearne TR. Survival rates from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest: recommendations for uniform definitions and data to report. Ann Emerg Med. 1990; 19:1249-59.

6. Eisenberg MS, Cummins RO, Larsen MP. Numerators, denominators, and survival rates: reporting survival from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. Am J Emerg Med. 1991;9:544-6.

7. Valenzuela TD, Spaite DW, Meislin HW, Clark LL, Wright AL, Ewy GA. Case and survival definitions in out-of-hospital cardiac arrest, effect on survival rate calculation. JAMA. 1992;267;272-4.

8. Jastremski MS. In-hospital cardiac arrest. Ann Emerg Med. 1993;22: 113-7.

9. American Heart Association. Textbook of Advanced Cardiac Life Support, 2nd ed. Dallas, TX: American Heart Association, 1990.

REFLECTIONS

The Benefits of Being Wrong

I SAW JENNY this weekend . Despi te her total lack of hair (h idden by a scarf), she looked good, and well. She" ate and she didn ' t cough, bo th visible signs of a remarkable improvement . She walked wi thou t shor tness of breath. Her smile was s o m e h o w more comple te .

My react ion to Jenny 's improvemen t is a paradox. I feel some guilt and shame but I 'm ex t remely grateful to still have her around.

Jenny got breast cancer a few years ago. She had surgery and chemothe rapy and radiation. During that t ime we were all hopeful. Because w e lived far apart t hen and I wasn' t wi tness to the cyclical hor rors of her chemothe r - apy, I den ied her illness. After all, on the occasions w h e n I saw her, she looked well.

One year ago, though, Tom, her husband, broke the news of a recurrence . It was then that I accep ted her illness and it became real. More c h e m o t h e r a p y and radiation en- sued. We lived closer now, for one thing, and this t ime the trips to the doctor , the pain, and the vomit ing w e r e less deniable.

Just a few mon ths ago came more bad news- - -new metastases to her lungs, severe shor tness of brea th and oxygen. When my wife told me, wi th tears, I w e n t into my doc tor mode. Maintaining my composure , I said that we needed to prepare for the worst . Jenny was dying. We wouldn ' t have her for m u c h longer. The prognosis was grim. We bo th spoke of h o w hard this must be for her two teenage children.

There was talk of m o r e chemothe rapy and a bone marrow transplant. Jenny had lots of doubts, w h i c h she expressed to my wife. I think she was leaning toward not doing any more. I d idn ' t talk to Jenny direct ly about my feelings because I was afraid I'd inf luence her. I spoke, to my wife alone, about h o w comfor t care might be her bes t option, about h o w I wasn ' t sure more chemothe rapy or the transplant was w o r t h it.

But, as luck would have it, she deve loped acute cardiac

t amponade and was rushed into a pericardial tap and win- dow. I think this very real brush wi th death mot ivated some instinct and Jenny reluctant ly unde r took ano ther round of chemotherapy . W h e n I nex t saw her, I was dev- astated by her appearance. She was shor t of breath, in pain, housebound , using oxygen, and, you could tell, just tol- erat ing her situation. This was not the old Jenny w h o was a phi losopher , a teacher, a mother , always smiling, rarely anxious, a comfor t to be around. There was no comfor t now. There w e r e s leepless nights, lots of pills, chron ic nausea, no appetite, Hickman catheters , and lots of shots. My pessimism was validated. I was almost smug wi th in my sorrow. After all, I had p red ic t ed this.

And then they came this weekend . A long trip wi th no oxygen and she b rough t apple pies she had made. She ate wi th us and talked. I saw the love she and Tom shared. I w a t c h e d her laugh wi th bo th her ch i ldren and mine. Her ches t x-ray and various scans have cleared. Her w o u n d s are healing.

In short, the old Jenny is back. And this is the source of my guilt. As a physician, I 'd once again b e e n lulled into morb id complacency by statistics. I don ' t know h o w Jenny feels, but wha teve r c h e m o t h e r a p y had to give, those hours this w e e k e n d w e r e w o r t h it, at least for me. She looked good enough to live. I hadn ' t p r ed i c t ed this. There in lies the paradox. Jenny ' s i m p r o v e m e n t has fo rced me to accep t that I was wrong. If it had b e e n up to me, Jenny wou ld have b e e n bur ied by now.

Even though I still k n o w the odds are against her, this w e e k e n d was a miracle for me. If she had died in a car w r e c k on the way home, my last me mo r i e s w o u l d be pleas- ant ones. Thank God Jenny 's alive. Thank God I wasn ' t he r doctor .

KEITH WRENN, MD Emergency Medicine Residency, Vanderbilt Univers#y Medical Center, Nashville, Tennessee