Monday 23rd OctoberJust back from a few days away, and the first patient comes in to tell me he is going to Egypt for a week, and to get his blood pressure checked and one or two other things. As I routinely do, I warn him about being extra-careful of the water he drinks. Egypt is one of the worst countries for people to catch gut infections and get torrential diarrhoea.
“Oh, I know, Doctor. That’s why we go.”
I looked bemused. “I have always been constipated, doctor, and so I like to go to Egypt every year to have a good clear out.”
I think my eyes must have bulged a little. He smiled, and said, “No, really, that is why I go.”
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Mary and David came in. Their 26 year old son was killed in a car crash three weeks ago. He was an only child. They are coping well, but they would benefit from some supportive counselling. We do not have any counsellors any more in the Health Centre. They took them away. The local psychiatric deparment’s attitude is that “bereavement is not a mental illness” and so they are not interested. Send them to
CRUSE. An excellent idea, and
CRUSE is an excellent organisation but, since all the counsellors were removed, and since the psychiatrists decided that bereavement was not a problem for the NHS, the local
CRUSE has a three month waiting list.
Should the NHS help people with bereavement? I think it should. So I shall continue to see Mary and David for a few minutes each week for a while, but I cannot give them as much time as I would like.
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Another little cut. Another little irritation.
The PCT has announced that it will not fund the district nurses to go round the community to give flu immunisations to elderly patients in nursing homes or housebound in their own homes. So we will have to do it. Well, the practice nurses will do it. We pay them ourselves. I do not mind that. But the district nurses are so called because they go round “the district”. But not for preventative medicine apparently. Penny wise, pound foolish - that is the modern NHS.
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Tuesday 24th OctoberRoger, a 54 year old man attends with his wife. She is 49. He came to see me six weeks ago. His brother, aged 60, has just been found to have inoperable prostate cancer so, reasonably enough, he wanted a check. He did not have much in the way of symptoms. His urinary stream was not bad; he did not think he could still reach the school record, but there was not a problem. He occasionally got up at night to go for a pee, but he had done so for years.
His prostate felt soft and benign. His PSA came back at 6.3 which is raised but not dramatically. He had a biopsy. He has prostate cancer but, unlike his brother, it has not spread. We are therefore looking at curative treatment. The local urologist, who is excellent, recommended an open prostatectomy. David has been out on the internet, and wanted to explore other options. He saw another urologist who recommended a laparoscopic total prostatectomy. He saw a radiation oncologist who recommended
brachytherapy.
The two surgeons offer a “complete” cure. There is a small but significant mortality rate to open prostatectomy. Laparoscopic prostatectomies are in their infancy in the UK, but the urologists who are doing them are keen to practise. Who knows what the morbidity is? The surgeons told Roger that any sort of radiotherapy brought with it a risk of rectal cancer, radiation proctitis and cystitis. The radiotherapist talked of impotence and incontinence as a risk of surgery. The open prostatectomy surgeon talked of tried and tested procedures, the laparoscopic surgeon talked of the reduced risk of laparoscopic surgery.
And so we go on.
Each specialist is selling his wares. Roger does not know what to do, so he comes to see the trusted family doctor. I do not know what the best course of action is either. And that is not because I am ignorant. No one knows. You can make good arguments for each treatment modality that has been offered. Or you can go to Paris where they are playing with lasers.
We talk about it for a while. Roger has insight. It was he who said, “You know, they are all charming, but they are all selling their wares.”
Finally, he says, “What would you do, doc?”
I tell him I would have the open prostatectomy. My reasons are that it offers the strong likelihood of a cure; it is a procedure that the local urologist has done many times; I would not want to be the material upon which surgeons learn laparoscopic techniques; yes, there is a risk of impotence and incontinence but the risk is relatively small. I also tell Roger that my opinion is personal, anecdotal, not scientific, a gut feeling, and no more than that.
Roger is going to go for the open operation. He should be fine. I worry about the influence the “family doc” has on decisions like this. I worry even more about doing PSAs on asymptomatic men of this age. The cancer was very early. Have we done Roger any favours by finding it? We probably have.
But, sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
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Thursday 26th OctoberA particularly bad morning. I over-ran by nearly an hour and a half. This probably happens about once a fortnight. I am quite slow compared to my partners. My patients know this and are, for the most part, tolerant. I still find it stressful. Once I am running more than ten minutes late, I apologise. It is not my fault (well, maybe I am too slow) but I still apologise and that in itself is hard work.
1. A 26 year old rugby player who had a scrum collapse on his right ankle. He says he heard a “crunch” as he went down. He was taken to the local hospital. He waited three hours, was X-Rayed. He was told nothing was broken and was sent home. Ten days later he is still limping. He has damaged
the lateral collateral ligament of his ankle. A common sporting injury. Not too bad if you are not a sportsman but it can put a professional footballer out of business. He needs physiotherapy. The NHS waiting list is 16 weeks, which means NHS phsyio is effectively unavailable. He decides to go privately.
2. A 56 year old Marks & Spencer assistant manager. She came in for an immunisation eight weeks ago. The nurse found her BP to be 160/98. She is otherwise well. Non-smoker, very little alcohol, on no medication with no family history of heart disease, strokes or BP. Her cholesterol is normal. Since seeing the nurse, she has lost 10 lbs in weight, is taking more exercise, and has stopped drinking. She has bought a BP machine and has taken her BP twice a day and put the results on an
Excel graph. Her average BP is now 152/90 which by all modern criteria should be treated. In the USA it would be treated. I am not going to treat it. Yet. She is coming back after another month of “clean living”. What are we doing to these people?
3. A 73 year old who had a
CABG fourteen years ago, and who has done really well. But his BP was found to be a little raised last week by the nurse. 150/88. I am going to investigate and treat this. “Not more tablets” he says. Probably.
4. A 63 year old with her 34 year old daughter who is mentally handicapped. She has been getting hiccoughs for ten minutes after every meal for the last three weeks. She is impossible to examine. She grins at me all the time. I can think of all sorts of odd things that can cause hiccoughs, and I cannot guarantee that this is nothing serious, but I doubt it is. Investigating her will be a nightmare. So we temporise with some “white medicine” and I tell mum to bring her back in two weeks if it has not gone. It probably will have. So much of general practice is like this. “Probably nothing serious…come back if it does not settle.” We get it right 999 out of a 1000. Occasionally we do not, then it is the
Daily Mail.5. A 52 year old man comes because he has itchy wrists. Itchy wrists? There is nothing to see. I tell him I have not got a clue why his wrists are itching. Then he tells me why he really came. His 26 year old daughter has schizophrenia and has just been discharged from hospital after a prolonged 14 month admission, during most of which she was on a section. Social services have found her sheltered accommodation nearby. She spends the night there, but turns up at her parent's house every morning and stays there all day chain-smoking until either mum or dad takes her home in the evening. They are a high-emotive family. A lot of families with schizophrenics are. I cannot tease our the chicken and egg. Dad cares for his daughter but cannot manage being with her for more than short periods. But he feels guilty if he turns her away. They need to have a distance between them, both physically and mentally. I have to try to give dad “permission” to do that. Not easy. He still feels guilty that he does not have her living with him permanently. I give him information from the
Schizophrenia Association. They are more helpful than the local psychiatric services.
6. Trevor appears. Have not seen him for a while. He has just had a two week admission with acute pancreatitis. He is now living in temporary bed and breakfast accommodation miles outside our area. He is back on the booze big time. He wants a prescription for Tramadol, Diazepam, and oramorph. There is no discharge summary from the hospital. Social services locally do not want to know because he is outside our area. I phoned the local alcohol support services who know Trevor well. Did they sound almost gleeful when they also said Trevor was outside their area? Trevor was in tears. His girlfriend has deserted him. He has nowhere to live. No one gives a shit. He is in bed and breakfast accommodation with the flotsam and jetsom of society. He is depressed and he is drinking again. He needs residential accommodation for a minimum of six months. Every time he is taken in somewhere, he is discharged within a week or two, and the cycle starts again. Anyone interested in the way someone like Trevor bounces around the system should look at his progess this year:
Week 1, Week 2, Week 6, Week 20, Week 28.7. I am now running 50 minutes late. A man with a sore throat. He says “my company have sent me down” because I am so ill. He is not that ill. He just wants a certificate for work. I tell him he can pick one up at the reception.
8. A head cold. Whatever that is. Described graphically with the kind of language that would be more fitting from someone describing Armageddon. Nothing to find. The man is not happy that he does not get any antibiotics.
9. An elderly woman with a very unpleasant looking lesion on the angle of her jaw. This is a
basal cell carcinoma and it has got some secondary eczema and infection around it. BCCs, or "rodent ulcers" are technically cancer, but they never spread, so it is not really fair to use a word like “cancer”. I treat the secondary problems and explain that it will mean a trip up to the hospital to have it removed. She is not happy. She says “can’t you just give me something for it?” I wish I could.
10. An intelligent middle aged woman who says that for the last week she has been getting a dizzy feeling that comes up from her legs when she sits down. She wonders if it could be the menopause. She never comes to the surgery. I spend some time checking her over carefully. As I expected, there is absolutely nothing to find. I have not got a clue what is causing this odd symptomatology. It is tempting to take refuge in that old coat hanger for all the ailments in the world, the menopause, but that would be intellectually dishonest. I tell her, as you do, that I do not think it is anything ominous, that it will probably settle, but to come back in a couple of weeks if it has not gone.
11. A 92 year old woman with her daughter to have her blood pressure checked. She has been on atenolol 25mg daily since long before I started, indeed since before I started at medical school, allegedly for hypertension. She is well and her BP is normal. She has come because her daughter has just read the
NICE recommendations and wonders
“if it is safe for mother to be on atenolol.” I can almost do this by rote now. I go through the
NICE recommendations. I am not going to take mother of atenolol. It probably is not necessary. And yet it may be the supporting brick that is holding up the whole pyramid of this robust old lady. Leave well alone. She is 92. She must have got it right somewhere.
12. I am now an hour behind. A 62 year old woman who had a fall last week, was knocked out, admitted to hospital and has come out on two different tablets. The cause of the fall was an
SVT according to the hospital discharge summary. She is on medication for this and is awaiting further investigations. She has brought the drug insert from both packets of medication and wants to discuss all the possible side effects. There are a lot. They have frightened her so much she has stopped taking them. We go through them slowly and methodically. She agrees to go back on the tablets. Of course it is right and proper that all patients know of all potential side effects. But sometimes I miss those little brown bottles with no inserts and no information.
13. A charming elderly man who is on half the chemist shop for ischaemic heart disease, insulin dependent diabetes, arthritis, ulcerative colitis and epilepsy. The list of drugs on the computer goes from A – Z in large case letters, and then starts on small case. We are well into the second alphabet. Today’s problem seems minor, but is not. He has an infected toe nail. He cannot reach down to deal with it himself. And his blood sugars are higher than they should be. And he is pretty sure he had a couple of mild fits last week but did not want “to bother anyone.” Every time I see this man, I want to be a house officer again and clerk him in, examine him from head to foot, rationalise his medication and start again. There is never time. So we treat the toe infection, get him in with the chiropodist, adjust his insulin and alter his epileptic medication.
14. A grumpy mother with Jimmy, a ten year old. Mother comes in looking at her watch. I apologise for running late. She says she has been waiting for an hour and a half. I am tempted to say I have been lying on the chaise-longue whilst a receptionist pops peeled grapes into my mouth, but I resist it. Jimmy has a small verruca. As soon as mum says this, I know there is going to be trouble. I look at it. It is a verruca. It is small. It is not painful. “Leave it alone, it will go away.” That will not do. The sports teacher at Jimmy’s private prep school is worried about it. I stick to my guns. Finally, mother says “do you mean I have wasted an hour and a half of my time to be told that it does not need treatment”. I am tempted to say that I have wasted five minutes of my time to tell her that it does not need treatment. Mum wants something. So I press the button on the computer and out pops the hand out on verruca treatment which confirms my advice. Mother is slightly mollified. A hand-out is obviously more impressive than Dr Crippen.
15. A baby with probable
bronchiolitis. This consultation is straightforward because mother is intelligent and charming, wants my advice and seems to value it. There is no effective treatment for mild bronchiolitis and so often one has to fight the antibiotic fight. Not this time.
16. A 61 year old man enters, smiles, says “you are busy today” (the polite way of saying ‘you are running late’) sits down and takes a piece of paper out of his top pocket. I have four problems. I thought I would try to get them all sorted out today. The first two are easy; a fungal groin rash and a benign mole on his back that his wife wants checking. Fair enough. Then he says he has had painful thumbs for several months. Looking at his hands, he obviously has mild osteoarthritis, and “wear and tear” at the base of the thumbs can be surprisingly intrusive. But it is not easy to treat. We decide to “treat” it by having an X-Ray in the first instance, and a blood test to check for various things including gout. Finally, he says that for the last three months he has had to get up at night three times to pass urine. This needs a complete work up. I add a blood sugar and a PSA to the list of tests, arrange for an MSU and tell him that he will need to return next week with the results for an examination. I should really do it now, but I am flagging, I am way behind, and I cannot realistically deal with four problems for every patient.
17. A teenager with a mild exacerbation of his asthma. Relatively easy to sort out.
18. An elderly couple who I have not seen for ages. He is worried that her memory is failing. She smiles and says he is making a fuss. We have a chat, and all seems fine, then I say, as I usually do, “Do you mind if I ask you some silly questions?” She says she does not. Of we go; day, month, year, address, age, prime minister, Queen’s husband ( I used to ask for the Queen’s name, but nearly everyone gets that, so now I ask for her husband’s name: more discriminating). Poor thing, she is absolutely hopeless. And she knows it. And she is embarrassed and ashamed. Her husband’s eyes are watering. I do some basic physical checks, which are normal, and arrange all the appropriate blood and urine checks, which will be normal, and then I suggest we get her an appointment at the hospital memory clinic. They will do the more formal and detailed memory testing, and arrange a brain scan. She looks at me and asks if I think she might have Alzheimer’s. I look back at her and say that I do not know, but that there is definitely a problem with her memory and it needs checking out. She nods. Unless her dementia is treatable, and that is unlikely, how much does the label matter?
19. A 37 year old with a cardiomyopathy. He apologises for being late. He is always late. Today it does not matter as I am running even later. He has an
alcohol induced cardiomyopathy. He first presented two days after New Year’s Eve about five years ago. He had been on a gargantuan alcohol binge and then suddenly become short of breath. He was in fast atrial fibrillation and heart failure. I sent him in. Since then he has stabilised. He is on a lot of medication. He claims he has “more or less” stopped drinking. This means that rather than his usual ten pints a night, he will go a week with nothing, then binge. This is arguably more dangerous than regular heavy drinking. He does not understand that. He works as hospital porter and seems to think that some medical knowledge has rubbed off on him from being around doctors. Maybe it has, but he does not take his medication properly. For the “nth” time, I try to persuade him to comply better with the advice he is given. He smiles benignly. In one ear and out the other.
20. Finally a patient with a clear cut, circumscribed medical problem with which I can deal on auto-pilot. He is 46. He has had a change in bowel habit with three or four significant rectal bleeds. He does not feel unwell and has not lost weight. His mother died of bowel cancer aged 68. There is nothing to find in his abdomen and the rectal examination is normal. Nonetheless, he needs investigation and although he does not quite meet the “two week rule” referral criteria, I make a “two week rule” referral.
Phew!
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Friday 27th OctoberOur
Qof partner is in hyperdrive at the moment. She only works two days a week, but is very good at chasing the pennies and, heavens, she is chasing hard this week. She keeps sending me emails “reminding” me to check up on all my patients whose
eGFRs are low.
eGFRs are driving GPs towards insanity. It is all a bit technical. The GFR, the
glomerular filtration rate, used to be calculated by getting the customer to collect all their urine for 24 hours in a large plastic bottle. The bottle was then taken to the hospital, and a blood test performed. From this, you can calculate how well the kidneys are functioning.
This test was not done very ofen.
Now someone has realised that you can produce a computer guesstimate of the GFR from one routine blood test. This is called the
eGFR. We are now getting
eGFRs on all our patients whether or not we want them. Hundreds of them. Every day. The trouble is, the
eGFR really is a guessimate, and can be wildely inaccuarete.
It gets worse. People in their late eighties and nineties tend to have reduced renal function. There’s a surprise. Until last year, we could pretend we did not know it was happening. Ignorance was indeed bliss. Now the
QoF partner tells me that Mrs Bloggins, aged 92, has a reduced
eGFR. I am not going to pass this information on to Mrs Bloggins however much money the government is going to pay me.
However, I shall spend this evening reading up about eGFRs
here. I do not know what our
QoF partner is up to. She was last seen heading towards the local cemetery with some cholesterol bottles.
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A 22 year old student with advanced male pattern baldness. He wants to know if here is any treatment for it.
There is not.
It sounds harsh, but there it is. You can spend a lot of money at the trichologists up on Harley Strasse, and they will put you on funny diets with certain expensive Vitamin supplements which are difficult to find on the open market but do not worry, by a strange co-incidence, they just happen to have some in stock. You can have hair transplanted from the back to the front. One by one. John Cleese is supposed to have had this done. Or you can buy a rug. Like Elton John.
There is
Minoxidil. This was originally introduced as a blood pressure treatment, and still is used as same. Some of the punters taking it started getting unwelcome additional hair growth. Big Pharma does not miss a trick like that. Now you can buy Minoxidil lotion and rub it into your scalp. I have one patient try it. After a week or two of sprinkling and rubbing, a scanty growth of what I would have described as “bum fluff” appeared. My patient’s wife thought it was more pubic in nature. We all agreed that the treatment was “disappointing”.
I chatted to the student. Some men who present with this sort of worry have underlying psychological problems. There were no alarm bells here. He was well balanced, but fed up.
I advised him to cut it short. I am sure that is best. There is nothing worse than a “comb over”.
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