Congratulations to prn penguin on winning the Inaugural Aussie MedBlogger awards!

prn penguin: Firstly, thank you to everyone that voted for prn penguin. It’s a strange feeling to realise that people actually read what I write. After being inspired by ImpactED Nurse, I had originally started writing simply as an exercise in reflective practice, with no expectation of any audience.

Thanks also to DrCris at AppleQuack for putting the whole awards thing together.

Finally a thank you to the other medical bloggers out there. This award process has opened my eyes to a few Australian blogs that I was unaware of. Now I’ve seen some pretty self-indulgent, crappy blogs before - honestly, who gives a rat’s arse about your back porch renovations - but there are some great health blogs out there. Some offer humour. Some offer education. Some offer insight. I personally enjoy the ones that offer all three...

You can read the rest of her acceptance speech; it's a veritable feast of Aussie Medical Blogging. You should totally read it. Like, the second you've finished reading this post.

Thanks to Dr Cris of Scalpel's Edge and AppleQuack for organising the awards, as well as SitePoint for providing such a red-hot prize. Finally, a big Huzzah! to those of you who voted for Degranulated :) Thanks team!

Now go here...

Pimpin' Quiz; Round 3

As promised, this is round Three of the Pimpin' Quiz. The time limit is now no time limit, so it's first in, best dressed, people. Of course, the prize is still a personalised "Pimpin' Quiz Winner" banner. En garde!
  1. In haemochromatosis, what happens to iron stores in the gut?
  2. Who won the 2000 Booker Prizer, and for which novel?
  3. What kind of murmur is most common in SLE, and what does it sound like?
  4. Mr WiLLiaM MoRRoW presents to the ED. What do you diagnose?
  5. In pregnancy, what two drugs can be used to delay the onset of labour?
  6. Which lung lobes are more likely to be fibrosed in Sarcoidosis?
  7. What is a Hampton's Hump, and in which condition is it seen?
  8. What is Brian Lara's highest score against Australia, and how was he out?
  9. What is the WHO definition of Health?
  10. A tented-T wave and an absent P-wave is visualised in what biochemical derangement?
  11. Bacterial infection (especially S. aureus) of the Tricuspid valve is associated with what?
  12. Diarrhoea occurs in five types. One is Exudative/Inflammatory. What are the other four?
Several years ago, I witnessed a patient with pseudoseizures. She was investigated for all number of neurologic disorders, and some of her seizures were real; stress induced. It appears retrospectively that the others were mostly an attention grab. It scared many of the people who knew her.

More recently, a nurse friend of mine related to me a few stories about patients with pseudoseizures, in what would best be described as a light-hearted tone. The lengths some patients would go to defend their 'seizures' were just plain silly.

Picture a patient accused of faking a tonic-clonic seizure stopping and saying "I am so having a seizure!" Or when one nurse remarks to the other, within the patient's earshot, "You shouldn't leave those fluoro lights on, they can set off seizures." Needless to say, a 'seizure' ensued within seconds.

Let me be clear; Pseudoseizures are not funny. Evidently, there are some potentially humorous stories about pseudoseizures, but, in person, to witness or to have, they are not funny. More appropriate adjectives might include worrisome, concerning, irritating and dangerous.

You see, the population most at risk of pseudoseizures is, in fact, patients whom suffer (genuine) seizures. Chances are, if you present with refractory, extremely convincing, pseudoseizures, you'll be treated via the same protocols as for status epilepticus. Not fun.

There's a long list of things that cause seizures. It's a pretty serious list, too, being that seizures are oftentimes life threatening. Uncontrolled epilepsy, brain tumours, drug overdoses and the like are, well, they're a formidable lot; the cause of any seizure certainly warrants a full investigation.

Thankfully, most textbooks point out the common features of pseudoseizures that are not consistent with seizures. These include pelvic thrusting, a lack of head thrashing, ability to listen to and abide by instructions, eyes tracking across the room and a lack of post-ictal confusion. It's also worthwhile noting that urinary incontinence has been known to occur in what would be best described as severe pseudoseizures.

And, deep down, you might understand some of the logic; these patients have a history of seizures and crikey, they know what kind of response it gets. Plus, it's far less risky than attempting to top yourself, and much more socially acceptable than throwing a temper-tantrum. So, why not fake the odd one, just now and then. Going out on a limb, I'd say that there's certainly another common denominator with seizures and pseudoseizures; Stress.

Psychological stress does messed up things to people most of the time, but, hang, throw a neurological disorder into the mix and it's all on.

By this stage of the post, the chances are that readers who are familiar with seizures are a wee bit miffed. I'm sorry. I'm not blanket accusing seizure sufferers of attention-seeking. Not in the slightest. As I've mentioned earlier, seizures are a big deal and should be appropriately treated and, after the event should not be negatively socially stigmatised.

What I am trying to illustrate is that seizures, pseudo- or otherwise are freaking scary entities, not least for the person they're happening to. But a pseudoseizure, if a patient's having one consciously and intentionally, is like a really nasty joke to which only they'll ever get the punchline. Kind of like the opposite to a Dissociative Fugue...

Plan

1. History of Presenting Complaint
2. Past Medical History and Systems Review
3. Physical Exam
4. Impression
5. ...

Homesick

Do you think, perhaps, that it would be possible for a man of ninety to become
homesick?
I sometimes get homesick. It's not a debilitating kind of homesick, more the creeping, grumbling kind. The kind that dawns on you when you least expect it. When you think, "Gee, I really miss my fam right now. I wonder what they're doing? I wish I could just have dinner with them all."

When I first moved away to uni (way back when), I got homesick for the place itself. I wanted to be in my old room, walk around my house and have that 'home' feeling. Over time, that became an idea; you can't simply recreate the past.

I got busy with uni and had a whale of a time and didn't think too much about home for 99% of the time. I had a plan and I knew what I had to do, and just now and then, I'd actually get home to see everyone and, well, be home. Uni was my 'real life'.

After graduation, I moved to Oz. It, too, was 'real life'; the first year I went home more than a few times to visit, and things stayed much the same to uni. Since starting medicine, I've been home for fewer than ten days in the last three years.

Sure, I've had visits from my parents and siblings and been interstate to visit extended family, but, well, there's something about sitting around the dinner table with my nuclear family.

Which is what the gentleman quoted at the outset of this post missed. His family, his surroundings. His 'real life'.

Qs and Os

I became aware of the whole 'medicine' thing aged about sixteen. Before that, when I was sick, I saw a doctor. Now and then my family might have to see a doctor, or even go to hospital, but I wasn't really aware of what all that was. I mean, I knew that they got better, and without some medical attention something bad would happen, but I, well, I hadn't much of a clue.

I know that it was when I was sixteen for several reasons; being an atopic kinda guy I'd had plenty of interactions with the medicos, inhalers this, allergies that, but really only knew about what was wrong with me. When I was fifteen, I remember having shingles. Big yellow pustules on my elbow. And I saw a doctor. And they went away. And I had no idea how or why. I just had the scars from scratching the hell out of them. Aged sixteen, I went on 'work experience' to the local hospital with my friend's father.

On day one I showed up, all excited and shiny, in a pair of pants I'd borrowed from my Dad, looking forward to learning about becoming a doctor. First up I was shown how to wash my hands. Then it was explained that the ward we were going to was a 'quiet zone' but that there was a lot of (rightly) worried friends and family and that it was not a place for a young man to muck around.

I was taken to the ICU.

It was precisely at this moment that my 'informal' learning of medicine began. We went into the fishbowl and the doctor told me, quietly and lightheartedly, about the three types of patients on the ward.
Os have their mouths open;
Qs have their tongue out;
Spotted-Qs are very rare. They have flies on their tongue.
The aim is to stop the Os turning into Qs and the Qs into Spotted-Qs.
I remember being shocked and a bit repulsed. And confused. How could this man, who I'd known for years as kind and caring and gentle, express such flippancy about patients, even as a joke.

Now, ten years older, I can see where the doc's humour came from. I can appreciate it's dryness and pithy cynicism without offense. So can most people who watch Scrubs.

But, through my repulsion, I remembered the doctor's words. In fact, whenever someone mentioned the ICU, the O-Q-SpottedQ story would pop into my brain. I even came to think of it as some sort of initiation story, a 'Welcome to the team, kiddo, it's not all Roses here.'

Anyway, over the last week or so I've been trundling though Shem's House of God. Several of my friends are 'saving it' for Intern year. Others told me not to read it whilst on my Internal Medicine Rotation, and I understand why. It's not what I'd call a wholly optimistic book, and whilst I no longer have the sheer naievety as when I first strolled into ICU, aged sixteen in daddypants, I hope that it's a long, long time before I get that cynical about medicine.

But, crikey, I can see how it spelt out the feelings of an entire a generation of doctors. And I can sure as eggs see some of the remaining artefacts of paternalistic medicine each day on the wards. Not just from docs, or nurses or allied health, but from patients who still believe in it.

Anyhoo, just after the Fat Man describes the importance of Finesse in medical care, is the book's only illustration;


.
By Popular request, here are the answers to Round Two of The Pimpin' Quiz.
  1. Danger, Response, Airway, Breathing, Circulation, (plus, automated Defibrillator if available)
  2. Timentin contains Ticarcillin & Clavulanic Acid
  3. Meig's Syndrome, according to the Oxford Handbook of Clinical Medicine, is the triad of a pleural effusion, benign ovarian fibroma (or thecoma) and ascites.
  4. Rugby Union for the Springboks and Sharks (Super 14) at Flyhalf (First five, for you Kiwis)
  5. Left Anterior Hemiblock, Inferior MI, Ventricular Tachycardia from a Left Ventricular Focus and Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. Thanks OHCM.
  6. B-Cells are the most common cell line from which Lymphoma occurs.
  7. Six Neuro/Psyche differentials for syncope could include Hyperventilation syndrome, Hydrocephalus, Migraine headache, Narcolepsy, Panic attacks, Seizure disorder, Stroke, among others. From eMedicine, it's gold.
  8. Escherichia coli is the most common causative organism in UTI.
  9. It's implied he's an alcoholic; 'Xanthias: "What's that they're trying to make you say, Dercylus? Dipsomania!" ' Aristophanes' The Wasps (translated by David Barrett, 1964, Penguin), 422BCE
  10. Diltiazem is a Benzothiazine Calcium Channel Blocker.
  11. I've just asked for an Anti-CCP titre for a patient, because I suspect Rheumatoid Arthritis
  12. Narrow complex tachycardias have an ECG rate of greater than 100 bpm and a QRS complex duration of less than 120 ms.
The top score was 8/12, from phantomoftheopera, whose prize is on the way. Congratulations! There will be a few weeks before The Pimpin' Quiz; Round Three!

Wispy Ends.

An issue the wispy bits of my conscious have managed to identify past the glaring headlights occupying the central vision are the end of life issues associated with modern medicine. Gee whiz, you say, who wasn't aware of those. But, well, it's different seeing so many scenarios play out at once.

Issues that involve gulity children trying to 'do everything' for their demented and dying parents, in order to compensate for years of detachment. Issues that involve discordance between carers, parents and patients. Issues about patients endangering themselves and their loved ones.

Thankfully, it's not bleak like The House of God; in the last thirty years both doctors and society has become generally more understanding of the now medically controlled end of life passage. But, 'society as a whole' can't account for each individual case, and the phrase itself has an odd detachment to it.

Look, what I'm getting at is that whilst end of life issues creep up you sporadically in everyday non-health life, they sure as eggs jump out at you every single day on the wards. Not surprisingly, the people who deal with it every day know what they're doing, and how to differentiate and nut out the vital differences between patients and their situations.

A month or two ago, the Engage With Grace project was the subject of a 'blogrally' at numerous popular blogs, medical or otherwise. Take the time to answer the five simple questions on the card, and tell someone about it. Tell your kids or your parents, tell your sibilings or your grandkids. Just make sure someone knows. There's no reason to die without someone knowing how you want your end of life care managed.


Death moves in odd ways; sometimes
you might see it a mile off, creeping,
sidling up to someone. First death, taps them
on the shoulder and darts quickly away.
Or, death will tickle their arm, or gut, or lungs and watch them squirm.
Or, death will hang around, wafting over someone's shoulder, cold.
Or, death will slap someone hard. Too hard to live. And they are gone.
Or, death takes half a brain here, a lung there, and we bend and flex.
Or, death's auspices of peace float in the eyes, make the head swim,
and breaths shorten, and mouths suck.
Then breath is no more.
And footsteps rap
round the corner
and away.

.