Brain-Fried Noodle

Redwood Park

It’s post-op day 8, woo hoooo!  To all my patients who have had surgery, now I know what it’s like—a little bit.  What a fascinating experience, and I’m so grateful now that I can relate!

Some of you may know that I tore my ACL in November playing volleyball.  It only took me a few weeks to decide I wanted to have it repaired (reconstructed, actually), because I don’t ever want to wonder whether my knee is stable enough to do the things I want to do.  I have now officially embarked upon that journey of rehab, and so far so good. This post is my story so far.  Just wanted to share.

Pre-Op Eval

The 10 days prior to surgery were some of the busiest in recent memory, starting with a whirlwind weekend with the kids in San Francisco ending with us on a redeye back to Chicago and cabbing it straight the office where I borrowed my colleague’s clothes for the day.  Then back to back meetings, clinic days full of patients, a team-building seminar, a Grand Rounds presentation, Chinese New Year, a teaching session with my awesome medical students, a movie playdate, a confirmation retreat, and laundry.  I barely got enough sleep, and the eating was not great.  But at least I wasn’t sick/infected.

I got all kinds of useful advice from friends and colleagues:

Use the meds!  Opioids are great for post-op pain. Expect maximum pain and swelling at 48-72 hours.  Well the block lasted at least 48 hours so no pain then.  And since then it’s actually not that bad—like a giant toothache at the knee, with radiating soreness up the thigh and down the leg.  Tylenol alternating with Advil pretty much takes care of it.

ICE ICE ICE!! Oh, how I love my electric ice machine.  It’s a pad that wraps around my knee and circulates ice water drawn through tubing from a cooler.  Brilliant!

Take time off, at least 2 weeks!  Like a silly person, I’m going back to work tomorrow.  I was even sillier initially to think I could have surgery on a Thursday and go back to work Monday!  Lesson learned, but hopefully I will never need to apply this learning?

The Jitters

The night before surgery, I wrote in my journal an “In case I die” entry.  I told my sister where I left the book, so she would know where to look for the message to my kids in case something bad happened.  It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I imagine I’m not the only mom who has ever felt this way.  It was pretty irrational, but hey, it was my first major surgery—anything could happen!  Sitting in the cart in pre-op, I got tearful (and still do now), thinking of how much I’d miss the kids, what they would have to go through, how everything would change, if I died.  But when the anesthesiologist asked, all I could articulate was, “I keep thinking about all the things I should have done for them this morning—packed their lunches…”  He had the perfect words: “It’s never enough.”  And with that I felt strangely reassured and absolved.

The MEDS!!

So here’s the most dissociating part of the experience.  In pre-op I was handed a little cup with five pills: two 500mg acetaminophen, one 75mg diclofenac, and two 300mg gabapentin.  That’s standard pre-emptive pain management, apparently.  Then for the femoral and sciatic nerve blocks, the anesthesiologists used bupivicaine and triamcinalone.  Once in the OR, they started clindamycin to prevent infection, and then midazolam, fentanyl, and propofol for the sleeping cocktail.  Of these nine medications, I had taken exactly three of them ever before.  It was a little alarming, even though I knew the indication and rationale for each drug.  I found my inner voices exclaiming at once, “Wow, this is totally routine, we have really got it all figured out,” and “HOLY SHIT ARE YOU KIDDING ME NINE MEDICATIONS SIX OF WHICH I HAVE NEVER HAD BEFORE AND YOU’RE JUST GIVING THEM ALL TO ME LIKE IT’S NO BIG DEAL I COULD TOTALLY DIE FROM THIS WHY ISN’T ANYBODY THE LEAST BIT BOTHERED!?!?”  And I did just fine, like everybody expected.  Fascinating.

new tongue out emoji

Source: http://www.iemoji.com/view/emoji/2488/smileys-people/crazy-face

And whoa, the meds…  Apparently it’s a known side effect of propofol to shiver when waking up from it.  That was uncomfortable, but even more so was the inability to pee for about 40 minutes, despite having a bladder that felt like it could burst at any minute (I know that could not happen, but literally, you could have bounced a coin off of my lower abdomen it was so full).  Thank God for the experienced nurse who offered me hot tea—what a relief!  And finally the nerve blocks—amazing.  I could flex my hip normally, so I lifted my braced left leg into the car while standing on the right; but lower than that I had neither sensation nor motor control for a full 24 hours.  It.  Was.  Dead.  The foot/ankle came back first, with that creepy, stinging, tingly sensation.  Then slowly, begrudgingly, the thigh returned.  The muscle twitches throughout came mostly at night, as if waking from anesthesia is, of course, a nocturnal activity.

I felt pretty clear-headed after about an hour in recovery, fully coherent and articulate.  But man, I could not really focus or hold attention for long at all.  I had all kinds of articles saved to read those first two days lying in the recliner, but it was just not happening.  My mood was great and I had long periods of alertness.  And then I just wanted to sleep–deeply.  My body was not only unresponsive in the left lower extremity; it felt limp and weak kind of everywhere, my mind included.  Hence the title: Brain-Fried Noodle.

The Pain

Those first two days were fantastic in terms of pain—none whatsoever (thank you, bupivicaine)!  And I was on the ice machine 24/7.  Since then two pain patterns have emerged.  First, the deep ache from having the joint capsule invaded and a tunnel drilled through bone.  That’s the giant toothache, almost like a deep itch that wants to get scratched from the inside.  The second is a hypersensitivity of the skin where all the bruising is.  It’s swollen, tender, and oh-so colorful!  And it zings every time I pull on my compression sock, from the ankle to halfway up the thigh.  That’s what makes me stop and breathe deeply for several seconds.  I figured out today that I’m probably not drinking enough water, which likely contributes to my pain.  It’s so ironic, as my primary advice to patients for almost any ailment is to hydrate first.  Well, this is me trying to walk the talk.  I’m so happy not to have needed opioids (so far), and everything should continue to improve as the tissues heal.  HYDRATE!

IMG_2332

The Rehab

I swear, I think I have lost 50% of my quad on the left.  My physical therapist thinks I’m progressing well, and I’m happy with where I am.  This will be a long road and I must monitor my expectations.  First, prevent further atrophy while tissues recover initially.  Then weight bearing, stability.  Then strength, coordination, and eventually back to sport.  Patience, diligence, persistence.  I’m told PT should make me cry, it’s so painful.  Well, it’s definitely making me sweat!

The LOVE

*sigh*  We really can’t do anything well alone in life, huh?  All the advice, all the well wishes, all the texts and messages right before and right after surgery—every single one held me up a little higher.  And my mom, who insisted on coming despite my denying the need—now I get it.   And thank God for her.  Thank you, Ma!  Last week would have been quite hellish for us all if not for you!  The hubs and kids have been pretty great, too, accommodating my crutches, ice machine, and constant occupation of the chaise side of the sofa.  Every day they come home and ask how I am and how they can help.  I’ve tried to do what I can—sort laundry, rinse/cut vegetables, instruct our amazing sitter on recipes, pay bills, make sure our DVD machine doesn’t die from under-use…  But there is no substitute for a wide and strong support network, and mine is as dense as they get.  Thank you, all my friends and family, for all of it.

* * *

Huh…  I thought I could accomplish so much more in 8 days off!  I fantasized about all kinds of blog posts, reading, correspondence, de-cluttering.  Hey, I said fantasy, didn’t I?  Oh well, time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.  Things don’t usually turn out the way you plan.  Maybe it will be good to slow down for a while, reorganize, reprioritize, focus… For now I gotta get that second set of exercises in tonight and get to bed on time—and hydrate—work tomorrow!

Onward, friends, hope you are all well!

The Only Diet That Works

IMG_2916

Hello Friends!!  Oh my gosh, it feels so good to be writing again, like sinking into my favorite squishy armchair, at the campus coffeehouse where I have met my friends since college, to sip, gab, bond, and plot to save the world.

New phase of life, woo hooooooo!  And eekgadds.  I have long thought of balance as a dynamic state, like that octopus ride at the amusement park.  I am the ride, spinning around, raising and lowering each aspect of life in controlled coordination, attending to each car so nobody flies out and gets hurt.  With the added responsibility I have taken on at work this year, it feels like I have just agreed to accept a massively overweight rider in that car, and my whole frame now strains to keep everything moving smoothly.  At first everything looks normal.  But the continuous strain of gravity, mass, and cumulative sheer forces create microfractures in my arms over time.  And suddenly one day, something (or everything) may come crashing to the ground.  People get hurt.  The ride is broken, in need of major repairs, possibly never the same again.

 

So better to slow the RPMs now, decrease the amplitude of vertical oscillations.  And, increase frequency and intensity of maintenance: inspection, lubrication, computer upgrade, parts replacement.  All of this is to say that 2018 is my year of graduate study in life-octopus ride maintenance.  Curriculum so far includes a lot of Thomas Rhett songs (“Drink a Little Beer”), communion with close friends, and a resurrection of my spiritual life.  I’ got this. [fist bump emoji]

***

IMG_0331

Okay so, this is a post I have thought about for weeks and I can finally sit down to write it today/tonight.

Since December, two people have told me, essentially, “Medicine has failed at nutrition.”  One person was a good friend, the other a new acquaintance.  Both were athletes, well-educated professionals, and thoughtful men.  I respect both of them and was intrigued by their assertions (and, honestly, just a little defensive).  They pointed to the myriad books, fads, products, news articles, and programs around the country in the last decade or so, all claiming to have the one method for lifelong healthy eating.

Their expressions went something like this:  “What’s the deal with gluten?  I’ve read Wheat Belly and Grain Brain and now I feel conflicted every time I want to have some bread, even though I feel fine, and I like bread.  …Is saturated fat bad or good?  On Atkins I can have as much steak and liver as I want, and my cholesterol is supposed to get better.  And Bulletproof says I should be drinking butter and coconut oil in my coffee.  But my doctors all tell me to minimize red meat and oil in general.  …The Inuit people live off of whale blubber, and they have a fraction of the heart disease we have.  I used to think I knew how to eat healthy and now I’m not so sure.  I’m so confused.”

I was taken aback somewhat by both of these conversations, as I don’t feel confused at all about nutrition and eating.  I feel personally tempted, frustrated, vacillating, under-motivated, and/or fat, depending on the day.  But professionally I feel informed, confident, and reassured that I can counsel my patients solidly toward optimal health.  So wherein lies the disconnect?

In my practice, our approach to nutrition starts with the patient interview.  What is your current eating pattern?  How does weekend or travel eating differ from regular workdays?  How does this pattern either promote or hinder your health and well-being?  What are you doing that’s already healthy and where is there room for improvement?  What needs to happen in order for you to make small, sustainable behavior changes for optimal health?  How important is it to you to do so?  The conversations focus on my patients’ own physical, mental, and emotional experiences around food.  They have a chance to relate their eating habits to personal and professional goals, and a vision for their best selves.

I have learned that my advice needs to be concrete, specific, and relevant at a granular level.  I can roll with Paleo, Atkins, Whole 30, gluten-free, vegetarian, ovo-lacto, oil-less vegan, pescatarian, Mediterranean*, or other diets.  There is some good evidence for all of them.  But is any one of them the sole antidote to all of our eating poisons?  My left brow rises every time I hear someone make this claim.  Here’s the key:  None of these diets tell us to eat pizza, burgers, chips, cheesy fries, dinner rolls, diet soda, craft beer, loaded nachos, fettucine alfredo, cookies, cake, ice cream, and candy the way most of us do.  So what are the underlying origins of my night-time corn chip-cream cheese binges?  What strategies can we brainstorm to cut back on my birthday cake consumption between birthdays?  Questions like these and the conversations that follow serve my patients far better than my recommending the blood type diet (which I do not).

Furthermore, leading proponents of each of these diets also emphasize the importance of concurrent self-care in the other realms of health: Exercise, Sleep, Stress Management, and Relationships.  Diet and nutrition are vitally important for health, but they do not occur in a vacuum.  All of our health behaviors need to be assessed in their combined context, and recommendations are best made with circumstances, preferences, logistics, and access in mind.

If you’re an elite athlete whose diet is already 99% cleaner than the rest of us, yes, maybe there is a subtle difference between medical diets that will affect your performance and sports longevity.  Then again, maybe not.  And you are also likely attending to your needs for training, rest, recovery, and stress management.  So you’re probably good either way.

For us regular people, the only diet that works is the one we can stick to, that doesn’t cost us inordinate amounts of psychic energy to maintain, and that actually makes us healthier.  How can we tell we’re healthier?  We may feel: lighter on our feet, increased energy, more regular bowel movements, clearer skin.  When we see our doctors (as we all should, ahem) they may find we have lower blood pressure, lower body fat, smaller waist circumference, lower fasting and overall glucose, lower LDL and triglycerides, and an overall brighter aura and vibe.

IMG_5677

So maybe keep Michael Pollan’s words in mind as a general guideline: “Eat food.  Not too much.  Mostly plants.”  I would add:  Eat foods as close to how they occur in nature as possible.  If you can tell what leaf/seed/grain it is by looking at it, it’s probably better than if you cannot.  Harvest/kill it, cook it (or not), eat it.  The fewer steps the better.  Eat often and slowly with people you love.  Help each other moderate the junk.  Enjoy your food.  Life is short.  Strive for an eating life that adds joy and delight to your whole being, both immediately and in the long term.

Onward, my friends.

 

*I have no financial, philosophical, or other interests in any of these or other diet programs, products, centers, providers, etc.

200th Post: The Best of Healing Through Connection

Harper Columbine 5-31-14

Happy New Year, my friends!  May 2018 bring us all health, joy, connection, and learning!  And may we all look back one year from now feeling more empathy and compassion, and enjoying better relationships than ever before.

If you are new to this blog, welcome!  I hope you find something that resonates.  If you are an old friend, thank you for your support, feedback, and encouragement the last 32 months.  As I reread the last 199 posts this past week, my favorite parts were the thoughtful and enlightening comments.  I never imagined I could make friends writing a blog and yet here we are, connected, engaged, and holding one another up.

What have you discovered about your own writing when you go back and read?  Turns out I have a pretty consistent theme—it’s all about relationships.  Relationships require awareness, insight, active engagement, negotiation, and adaptation.  This is no less true in our relationships with ourselves than with others.  I have divided my favorite posts below into three categories: Health & Self-Care, Physician-Patient Relationship, and Relationships and Communication in general.  Though I have written pieces on politics and healthcare, I realize that these are critical arenas in which to explore relationships, and not my primary areas of focus in and of themselves.

2018 brings big new projects and responsibilities, yay!  So of course there will be big new challenges, also yay!  Looking ahead, I commit to my self-care practices with renewed motivation:

  1. Get to bed by 11:30 every night—Coach Christine has permission to call me out if I’m caught Facebooking past this time.
  2. Maintain 4+ workouts per week. An aging body needs regular vigorous movement!
  3. Keep up with therapy and resume regular coaching calls—reflect internally and project my best self outwardly.
  4. Maximize intake of stems, stalks, leaves, and fruit; minimize refined sugars.
  5. Nurture my ties to my tribes. They hold me up so I can do my best for those whom I lead.

The coming year will also require pulling back on certain things in order to maintain sanity.  While I refuse to renounce my Facebook use altogether, I have already decreased daily hours spent.  And though I still strive to maintain social/political awareness and activism, I will engage less with opposing voices on social media.  The costs, I have learned, far outweigh the benefits.  I would much rather take a politically oppositional friend out to lunch, or even fly to meet them, and have far more meaningful conversations in person.

For now, I plan also to scale back on the blog.  I’ll continue to write, of course, but likely more in the form of stream-of-consciousness journaling, brain-dumping, and snail mail letters to friends.  I expect that once in a while one of these activities will yield a post or two, and I hope to catch them by the tail and publish them before they escape the moment.  I leave here the list of my favorite posts to date.  Please feel free to dip in and out, leave new comments, and share links.  I suspect I will be drawn back to the page before long, as I already have a list of ideas for future posts.  But in case it’s longer than I anticipate, please know that I appreciate every view, every like, every comment, and every connection.

Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read.  And may you take something away that makes you glad you came.

Sincerely,

Cathy Cheng


552503_3426810143573_122185844_n

Health and Self-Care

The Sh*tpile  /May 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/05/01/the-shtpile/

Everybody has one.  We inherit large parts of it from our parents, whose parents passed theirs down, etc.  Life experiences add mass and odor as we grow up.  It sits squarely in the middle of the house of our existence.  For the most part, we simply live our lives around it, walking past every day, careful not to knock any pieces off.  The surface gets dry and crusty; we grow accustomed to the smell.

 

How Health Begets Health  /November 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/11/07/how-health-begets-health/

As the kids and I sat waiting to get their flu vaccines this morning, I heard someone blow their nose. It was that thick mucus blowing that feels, at the same time, both gross and gratifying. I took a deep breath through my unobstructed nostrils and looked happily at my uninfected children.

 

Setting Intensions for 2016  /January 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/01/01/setting-intentions-for-2016/

This year I realized my body’s inevitable march toward menopause, a stark and sudden awareness. It came to me sometime in the spring, and I felt a keen jolt of motivation to prepare.   After 13 years of practice, I recognize two characteristics of women who suffer the least through this dramatic hormonal transition.

 

So You Want to Lose Weight  /March 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/03/12/so-you-want-to-lose-weight-the-four-as-of-goal-setting/

We set weight loss goals all the time, all of us—physicians included. We choose a number on the scale—an outcome—that represents our better selves, however we see it.  I suggest today that behavior-oriented goals, rather than outcomes-oriented ones, lead to far greater and more meaningful success.  How much are we really in control of what we weigh, day to day?

 

Never and Now  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/17/atozchallenge-never-and-now/

And, there is another important practice to overcoming the Nevers: Mindfulness, the practice of the Now.  Never is about the future or the past.  Often it’s a shadowy, catastrophizing perspective of things.  But we cannot predict the future, despite our arrogant human certainty.  And we cannot live every day to come based solely on what has already happened or not happened.  Circumstances and attitudes change.  Landscapes change—at times literally, and in an instant.  We evolve, we learn, we grow.  How can we be so sure that Never is real?

 

Yes, And!  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/30/atozchallenge-yes-and/

The goal is to open our minds, allow possibilities, expand our boundaries, and encourage creativity. I can still see her smile, the gleaming light of engagement and anticipation in her eyes.  I also remember my own hesitation and self-consciousness.  What do you mean, pimple on my forehead?  Is it really about to burst?

 

On the Critical Importance of Self-Care  /November 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/11/06/1638/

Technology and other advances have created a world of 24/7 hyper-stimulation, global comparisons of productivity and innovation, and immense pressures to be perfect, or at least appear so.  Men and women live under constant scrutiny and competition… I see, hear, and feel it from my patients every day—the anxiety, the uncertainty, the angst.  The suffering is real, if not totally tangible.

 

On the Second Arrow  /November 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/11/11/on-the-second-arrow/

Eventually, breathing, we can let go the negativity, pull the arrow out.  Breathe.  When assailed by another first arrow, see the second arrow coming and sidestep.  Breathe.  Keep breathing.  Practice self-compassion and forgiveness.

 

On Readiness  /November 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/11/16/on-readiness/

I confess I am guilty of impatience and judgment.  When I see your uncontrolled, lifestyle-related medical problems, and you resist behavior change, I feel frustrated.  I know you feel it, too.  But know that I don’t blame you. The point is: we don’t make changes until we are ready.

 

Walking the Talk  /July 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/07/09/walking-the-talk/

18 months ago I wrote about my plan for maximizing menopause preparedness.  As with so many missions, this one has experienced both successes and failures.

 

Just Do It My Butt  /November 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/11/06/just-do-it-my-butt/

Medical systems which include dieticians, exercise physiologists, and health psychologists can deploy these team members to support patients in their health journeys.  But does your doctor’s office have this kind of set up?  Does your insurance pay for these services?

 

Citius, Altius, Fortius!  /November 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/11/09/citius-altius-fortius/

Every day I live in awe of the astounding miracle that is the human body. It is the quintessential integrated machine.   Almost every part serves a unique and essential purpose in normal daily function, and the parameters for such function are incredibly narrow.  But take something out, wound something else, or trash multiple systems at once, and the whole assembly adapts around the insults, automatically, without any action or awareness on our part.  The body’s compensatory mechanisms exemplify the resilience and tenacity of nature, no doubt about it.

 

Dance For Your Health  /November 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/11/16/dance-for-your-health/

So basically, dancing activates key areas of the brain and body in an orchestrated fashion, igniting motion, joy, connection, exhilaration, sensory integration, creativity, passion, cardiovascular elasticity, and fun.  How could this not make us all younger?


IMG_3823

Physician-Patient Relationship

The Premise  /April 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/04/14/hello-world/

Patients and physicians have control over one thing above all else: our relationship with each other.  Relationships live and die by communication.  Barriers on the obstacle course of patient-physician communication loom large and formidable. Our system fails us over and again. And it falls to each of us, not the system, to find our way to connection and healing relationships.

 

What Are You Looking For?  /April 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/04/22/what-are-you-looking-for/

My mind’s eye saw hers widen with disappointment, then anger, her posture turn aggressive.  My inner conflict escalated quickly:  Sacrifice the rapport I had just established in the name of antibiotic stewardship, or give in to the misguided pleas of a wrung out fellow working mom, and contribute personally to the scourge of antibiotic overuse and resistance?

 

More Than Enough Love  /June 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/06/20/more-than-enough-love/

Like parenting, the path of medical practice is not paved with lollipops and ice cream.  It’s more like an uphill dirt road with pits and grooves, erratic weather, and hairpin turns that make you dizzy and nauseated.  It can also offer astoundingly beautiful scenery along the way—like parenting.

 

Help Me Help You  /July 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/07/10/help-me-help-you/

When you feel that disconnect, like I have left Best Me somewhere else and you’re not getting what you need, what will you do?  Will you yell and storm away? Smile to my face and then write a scathing, anonymous Yelp review? What would you do if I were your spouse, colleague, friend, or child? You and I are in a relationship, not unlike these.

 

Closing the Satisfaction Gap  /July 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/07/20/the-thorn-in-our-collective-side/

This patient gave Dr. K the best possible feedback: An objective observation about a behavior, her subjective interpretation of it, and its consequence for their relationship.  This is how we communicate evaluations to medical students on their performance in clinical rotations.  There is no reason why it should stop at the end of training; it’s just that the evaluators have changed.

 

The Burnout Crucible  /September 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/09/20/the-burnout-crucible/

Maybe it’s a moot point, whether it’s better to never burn out or to burn out and relight. We’re all here doing our best every day. Maybe it’s more important to just cut ourselves and one another a little slack sometimes, have compassion for aggressors while calling out their unjust behaviors, and offer everybody the benefit of the doubt, especially when we’re all stressed out.

 

What Makes You Think You Can Trust Me?  /February 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/02/01/what-makes-you-think-you-can-trust-me/

Trust is the cornerstone of any meaningful relationship. The patient-physician relationship is no exception. It takes time and presence to cultivate. These are big investments, and if we are willing to make them, the returns can literally save us.

 

 

I am Edna Mode  /February 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/02/20/i-am-edna-mode/

Clearly, Edna trained in the School of Tough Love.  Fortunately for you, I have also studied empathy, compassion, and motivational interviewing.  I can help you persist.  I have patience for your journey.  I can be your pillar of consistency.  Edna is nothing if not consistent!

 

Humbling and Honoring  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/09/humbling-and-honoring/

I get to choose when I am willing to donate my time and energy to the free clinic—everything I do there is on my own terms.  The patients there have no such choices.  If they want care, they have to show up—early—on the day the clinic is open, regardless of what else is going on in their lives.  There are no appointments, and almost no continuity with providers.  It’s a completely different world from where I make my living, on the Gold Coast of Chicago.

 

On Mutual Respect  /November 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/11/05/on-mutual-respect/

To Patients Who Abuse Medical Staff: Let me be clear: That is not okay.

 

No Substitute for Time  /November 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/11/03/no-substitute-for-time/

“More information about the value of a physician-patient encounter will always be found in the content of their communication than in what they ultimately do. The difference in… physicians’ behaviors will not be found in any database, electronic medical record, or machine-learning algorithm. I have yet to see data on the contextual information from a history of the present illness in any data set or quality improvement initiative.”

 

Dr. Jerkface In Context: Healing the physician-patient relationship  /November 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/11/25/dr-jerkface-in-context-healing-the-patient-physician-relationship/

Do patients care about doctors’ suffering?  If they knew how the system harms physicians, would they have compassion for us?  What about if they knew how physician burnout and dissatisfaction directly affects their quality of care, all of it negatively?  What would move patients to stand up with and for doctors?  This is my goal for the indefinite future: to help us, patients and physicians, the end users of our medical system, stand up with and for one another, for positive systems change.


546505_3541050719516_553644737_n

Relationships and Communication

Gratitude, Generosity, and Peace  /July 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/07/30/gratitude-and-generosity/

When I feel grateful, there is enough. I am enough. Even just saying the word, seeing it on the screen, brings me to a more peaceful state of mind and body.

 

Warrior Pride and a Plea for Kindness  /December 2015

https://catherinechengmd.com/2015/12/13/warrior-pride-and-a-plea-for-kindness/

There is no substitute for a face-to-face conversation, and the time and energy it takes to have one. It requires a certain degree of tolerance, and an unspoken contract of civility and courtesy.  We must choose carefully with whom we are willing to undertake such a venture.  And perhaps most importantly, we must be clear about our objective(s).  Do we really expect to change someone’s fundamentally held political or religious beliefs?  How realistic is that?  What other purpose, what other good, could possibly come from such conversations?

 

On Belay  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/02/on-belay/

The interview starts with the two men talking about Hank Williams’ troubled life, his ‘formidable demons,’ as Hiddleston puts it. He expresses compassion for this, as I have seen him do in previous interviews about other characters he has portrayed.  He describes how Williams rose to stardom quickly, but ‘with no real support, no one to anchor him.’  Funny how he uses that word, anchor—like belayer.

 

Opposition and Openness  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/20/atozchallenge-opposition-and-openness/

When I look at the list of definitions of oppose, I feel tired.  When I think of the energy it takes to constantly stand against something, I feel listless and drained.  Fighting, resisting, combatting, Obstructing, standing in the way, hindering, disputing, dissenting, contradicting—it’s exhausting.  I think of times when I meet someone new and all they talk about are the things they hate, that they can’t stand, that they want changed.  I cannot wait to get away and find levity.

 

Every Day a Revolution  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/22/atozchallenge-every-day-a-revolution/

Like the turning of an incandescent light bulb, gently, patiently, and consistently in one direction, the steady work of activists eventually leads to sudden and intense illumination.  Darkness becomes light, cold spaces are warmed.

 

Withhold Judgment  /April 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/04/29/atozchallenge-withhold-judgment/

After all of this exploration, conversation, debate, research, and observation, once again I conclude that one of the most important practices for inner peace is to Withhold Judgment. Not all judgment, and not indefinitely, but much and for a while.

 

Playing My Part  /May 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/05/22/playing-my-part/

Given the awesome support network with which I am blessed, I feel an impulse to do something more with my writing—to amplify and project all this love and connection back out onto the world for some positive purpose.  But how can my words possibly make a difference?

 

Holding the Space for Personal Acts of Peace—On Listening  /July 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/07/11/holding-the-space-for-personal-acts-of-peace-listening/

I know I will not do justice to all the complexities of our issues in one blog post, but I ask your forbearance for my interpretation, as it has led me to greater conviction for what I can do, I, one person.

 

Holding the Space for Our Suffering to Heal Us  /September 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/09/22/holding-the-space-for-our-suffering-to-heal-us/

For a moment we felt stuck, we connection seekers.  I looked at our leader.  His expression conveyed nothing but humility and empathy.  His posture conveyed resolution.  Despite our deep longing, he refused to lead us into treacherously thorny fields, because he knew he did not have the time to bring us safely through to the other side.  But he also allowed us to process, invited us to consider how else we could collectively resolve our unease.

 

On the Golden Positivity Ratio  /November 2016

https://catherinechengmd.com/2016/11/25/on-the-golden-positivity-ratio/

I remembered something about healthy relationships maintaining a 3:1 ratio of positive to negative interactions.  Turns out it’s actually 5:1, widely attributed to observations by Dr. John Gottman, renowned marriage and relationship psychologist.  I think the same thing applies in other realms, too, such as self-talk—a reflection of our relationships with ourselves.  It’s not a far leap to see how this idea pertains to news, social media, and any other human interactions.

 

Train to Withstand the Discomfort  /February 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/02/20/train-to-withstand-the-discomfort/

We all know the satisfaction and comfort of echo chambers.  Seeing, hearing, and reading that which validates our existing positions feels so good.  But the farther we regress here, the harder it becomes to tolerate a dissenting view.  We must resist this temptation; we are called to be more disciplined than this.

 

To Train or Not to Train  /May 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/05/08/to-train-or-not-to-train/

…even if we don’t all talk politics, we all need effective communication skills, especially in the arenas of conflict resolution, negotiation, parenting (which encompasses them all), and the like.  We are social beings—we only survive by cooperating and living well within our tribes, and by tribes living well among one another.  That can only happen if we practice getting along.

 

Tribal Pride and Tribalism  /November 2017

https://catherinechengmd.com/2017/11/29/tribal-pride-and-tribalism/

We all need our tribes.  Belonging is an essential human need. To fit in, feel understood and accepted, secure—these are necessary for whole person health.  And when our tribes have purpose beyond survival, provide meaning greater than simple self-preservation, our membership feels that much more valuable to us.  But what happens when tribes pit themselves against one another?  How are we all harmed when we veer from “We’re great!” toward “They suck”?

 

 

 

Incomplete Thoughts on Suicide

DSC_0029

Not selfish

Not thoughtless

Simply belief beyond shadow that no one will mourn you, people will be better off without you

Unimaginable for those who have not lived it

Most who try once don’t try again

So better to keep guns away

——————–

One of my high school classmates killed himself when we were seniors.  He shot himself in the head at home.  He was the vice president of our Students Against Driving Drunk chapter (I was president).  He was a member of the National Honor Society.  He was well-liked, always friendly, generous, smiling, encouraging.  He was a nerd, and so was I, so I thought nothing of it.  I did not know him well, and I never asked him about his life, that I recall.  I have no idea whether he was bullied or what drove him to take his own life.

The morning we found out, our calculus teacher had to sit down in the middle of the lesson. She was overcome.  One of my other classmates got up and hugged her.  She had more presence of mind than I.  I can’t remember if it was that moment or later, or if it was our teacher or someone else altogether, who said something like suicide is ultimately a selfish act.  That it was inconsistent with our classmate’s character to cause so many people so much pain.  That if he had known how much he would hurt people by this act, he never would have done it.  I can’t say I had thought anything about suicide before then, and I have probably not thought enough about it since, but her words stuck with me.  I’m not sure I would have ever come to this conclusion.

The way I understand (think I understand) it today, suicidality is such dark state, a place so far removed from where we connect with our true selves and others, including (especially?) loved ones, that people really do believe that everybody else will be better off without them, that there is nothing worth living for.  I cannot fathom that kind of disconnection and loneliness.  It feels almost too scary to even contemplate.  I feel totally incompetent to address this kind of pain and suffering.

I saw this video recently and it moved me.  A young man jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge and survived; he tells his story of instant regret for the attempt, and gratitude to be alive.

I pray tonight that if anyone in my circle is feeling suicidal, I may say or do something to help them know they are loved, wanted, and connected, and to keep them with us long enough to get help.

 

I’m the Doctor, You’re the Doctor

DSC_0401

NaBloPoMo 2017: Field Notes from a Life in Medicine

“I’m the doctor, just do what I say.”  I don’t think doctors actually say this anymore, but I wonder how many of us think it?  It’s probably not even a conscious thought, but rather an attitude—paternalistic and directive, a relic from the old days when patients had no power or voice in the relationship because the doctor held all the information and all the expertise.  Today patients are empowered by culture and the internet to participate in shared decision making , and it’s a good thing.

The problem with the “I’m the doctor” attitude is that it inhibits the patient from owning their own healthcare choices.  Then if and when the care plan goes badly, they feel rightly justified blaming the doctor, because they were just following orders.  Sometimes it’s necessary, like in the case of trauma or serious surgery, where the doctor is truly in charge and must make life or death decisions according to their expertise and judgment.  Thankfully this is not my work.

In primary care, if I take this attitude, I miss an opportunity to forge a collaborative and rewarding relationship with my patients.  If I simply issue orders, people don’t feel seen or heard, and they may withhold important information that would help me make a better, more relevant diagnostic and treatment plan.  And if they defy my advice (edict), as they are more likely to do when our relationship is transactional and cookbook, and things go well, then I lose credibility and they are even less likely to follow my advice in the future.

“You’re the doctor,” on the other hand, is something I hear often.  It usually comes up when patients (and I) are faced with decisions involving competing interests or vague risks and benefits.  An example is prostate cancer screening.  Guidelines over the years have ranged from screening every man, every year, starting at age 50, for life, to don’t screen anyone ever.  Most physicians and professional societies agree currently that the best approach is to discuss risks of screening (over-diagnosis, harm from testing in patients without disease) and not screening (missing early cancer, delayed diagnosis, possibly leading to preventable negative outcome), and make decisions based on patients’ individual values and goals.

When a patient in this or a similar situation says to me, “You’re the doctor, just tell me what to do” alarms ring my mind.  What I intend to be a shared decision suddenly falls to me to make unilaterally.  In this scenario, the patient essentially cedes responsibility for the treatment plan, and if it goes badly then it’s my fault “because you told me to.”  Or the patient may choose to ignore my directive and also blame me because “you told me to but I disagreed.”  Either way a patient may then feel justified to blame me for any negative outcome, even though I gave them what they said they wanted.  I understand that this is not how the scenario necessarily plays out, but somehow I’m wary of it.

I had my teeth cleaned today.  The dentist recommends x-rays every year; I politely decline most of the time.  I just don’t understand (or accept?) the rationale and benefits of annual radiation to my face, and I’m cynical about the fee-for-service structure in which providers make more money for ordering more tests (which is a legitimate concern in medicine, also).  Without explaining why it’s recommended for me particularly (it was explained later), I heard, “Well, it’s okay if you don’t do it today, but you have to do it next time.”  [Expletive, not stated out loud.] I am emotionally triggered when people try to tell me what to do without asking me what I think about it first (see my post from 2 days ago).  So I bristle when I witness colleagues doing it, or when my patients demand it from me.

I don’t see my job as telling people what to do—I am not a surrogate.  Rather, I think of myself as consultant and guide, expert, counsel.  It’s my job to discuss, explore, explain, review, consider, negotiate, compare, assess, debate, explain and discuss again, and then make a shared decision.  This includes follow-up and contingency planning, setting expectations, and reassurance about my commitment to the person, regardless of the problem.  I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, we are a team.  We are in this together.

Because This Is Who We Are

 

DSC_0508

Followers of this blog may know of my interest in and passion for physician health and well-being.  I was immersed in this world last couple of months, with two amazing conferences and multiple conversations with fellow physicians at work.  As often happens, I was moved to articulate a vision/mission statement of sorts, mostly to solidify my own intentions and also to share with like-minded colleagues.

I love that I enter this arena from the world of executive health.  Corporate leaders, physician leaders, and physicians on the ground share so many attributes that everything I learn from patients translates seamlessly to my own professional development.  This is exactly the right space for me to inhabit today, and I am forever grateful for the integrative experience.  Physicians are care team leaders by default, and we miss opportunities to improve all of medicine when we forget or ignore this fact.  I’m interested to know your response to the words below—the more visceral the better (but please, if possible, refrain from spitting, vomiting, or defecating your own words here):

Why do we advocate for physician health and well-being? 

Because we believe we can only lead well when we are well ourselves.

Because leading can be lonely and leaders need support.

Because leaders need metrics of our own performance, both related to and independent of the performance of those whom we lead.

Because health and leadership intersect inevitably and who we are is how we lead; the more awareness and active, intentional self-management we practice, the more effective leaders we will be.

Because people follow our example, like it or not, so we owe it to ourselves and those we lead to model Whole Physician Health.

What Is Whole Physician Health?

Whole Physician Health is an approach to health and well-being which defines physician as both clinician and leader, both healer and vulnerable.  This approach focuses on the 5 Realms of Health: Nutrition, Exercise, Sleep, Stress, and Relationships.  We explore how these realms intersect and overlap, affecting the individual physician, those whom the physician cares for and leads, and the entire medical profession.  We apply principles from health and sports psychology, communication, leadership, mind-body medicine, and myriad other disciplines.  We value openness, curiosity, critical analysis, and collaboration.  Our mission is to create a resilient medical culture in which all members—physicians, patients, all caregivers and support personnel—thrive and flourish.

DSC_0555

The Whole Physician Health Advocate:

*Values self-awareness and self-exploration.

*Understands and accepts his/her position as role model and culture setter for the team.

*Wishes to broaden the skillset in cultivating positive relationships

  • With self
  • Between self and immediate colleagues
  • Between colleagues themselves
  • Between physicians and staff
  • Between teachers and learners
  • With extended family of colleagues and institutional entities
  • Between institution and the patients it serves

*Sees the physician health and well-being movement as an opportunity to learn, see from a different point of view, connect to fellow physicians, and form new tribal bonds that will hold us all up.

*Wants to contribute to the creation of a global professional vision and mission of the 4 WINS:

WIN 1–You

WIN 2–Those you lead

WIN 3–Your whole organization

WIN 4–All those whom your organization touches

Of note, one need not be a physician to advocate for Whole Physician Health.

You Can’t Pee!

DSC_0294

NaBloPoMo 2017: Field Notes from a Life in Medicine

When my son was little we lived in an apartment where the kitchen was a separate room, with only a small window through which I could see what he was doing in the living room while I cooked.  Once when he was about five months old, I looked out and he was lying on the mat in the middle of the floor, playing happily with the toys dangling from arches overhead.  I swear I only turned around for a minute, and when I looked back he was gone.  Empty mat, toys still dangling, no kid, no sounds.  I can’t remember what I was doing, but it felt like a slow motion eternity getting out of that damn kitchen to find him.  Something heavy must have fallen on him or he was otherwise suffocating or dying, for sure.  …He had just learned to roll over, and he had rolled and rolled and rolled himself into the space under the air conditioning unit near the window.  He was turning over a dried jasmine leaf he’d found on the floor.  Not long after that I decided I had to buy food preparation gloves.  Just in case my kid needed me anytime I was handling raw meat, this would save me the infinitude of time it would take to wash my hands—I could just pull the gloves off and bolt!  Because you know, 30 seconds could mean life or death for a toddler in his own living room.

Please laugh—I did today when I told the story to a friend.  It came up as we explored the phenomenon of moms putting everything for their kids before themselves.  We compared notes on how long we had ever held our urine.  What mom has not done this?  You can’t pee!  Because you never know which minute you’re not with your children will be the one during which your neglect will kill them.  Thankfully children grow and become more independent, and we can free our bladders again eventually.

It’s not just moms, though.  One of my teachers in the hospital gave herself a urinary tract infection as a resident.  She had so much to do every day, so many patients who needed her that she felt guilty taking time to pee.  I did the same thing in clinic for many years.  I could not justify making patients wait another minute when I was already 15 (usually more) minutes late seeing them. I don’t do this anymore.  In a fit of efficiency last week, I stepped into the restroom after I set my lunch to microwave for 2:00.  It literally takes only a minute to pee.  I don’t usually run late these days, but even if do, now take care of my needs first.  It’s better for me, and better for my patients, whose doctor is not distracted by preventable physical discomfort and dying to end the interview or exam to get some relief.

Our culture still expects moms, doctors, nurses, teachers, and many others to sacrifice selflessly in service of our charges.  UTIs are the least important consequence.  Over 50% of physicians in the US report at least one symptom of burnout, and 400 doctors kill themselves annually.  That is the equivalent of my entire medical school, dead, every year.  It’s not all because of the job, but the obligatory selfless-giver mentality in medicine definitely contributes.

So whatever helping profession you are in, please take time to take care of yourself.  We need you whole and healthy to take care of the rest of us and our children.

Go pee.  I will wait.