MEDICINE
Heal Thyself
A physician argues that the best doctors are the ones who keep their eyes, ears and minds open.
HOW DOCTORS THINK
By Jerome Groopman
  (Getty Images) |
Houghton Mifflin. 307 pp. $26
Why is it that How Doctors Think is likely to find an audience while How Automotive Engineers Think would be a tough sell, and How Bookkeepers Think wouldn't have a prayer?
Part of the reason is that most of us believe, rightly or wrongly, that our lives might one day depend on the right decision by a doctor -- a belief we share about few other occupations. Most, as well, have watched doctors work, an experience, whether good or bad, that tends to lend an oracular quality to what a doctor does. And then there's the drama and heroism that's supposed to be -- and occasionally is -- part of medicine.
Jerome Groopman, a physician at Harvard Medical School who is also a writer for the New Yorker, does not debunk the notion of medical "exceptionalism." His book contains all kinds of smart, often selfless, occasionally heroic doctors making good decisions and sometimes saving lives. But it is far from a narcissistic paean to his profession. It is an effort to dissect the anatomy of correct diagnosis, successful treatment and humane care -- and also of diagnostic error, misguided therapy and thoughtless bedside manner. His task is to offer practical advice to both patients and physicians. He succeeds at both.
Groopman catalogues the many species of clinical errors, a whole taxonomy of misperceptions and wrong conclusions illustrated with real examples offered as representative types. All are fascinating, a few are chilling.
Into the latter category falls the case of a woman who for 15 years suffered from chronic diarrhea, vomiting and eventually anemia, osteoporosis and severe weight loss. Doctors said she had anorexia, bulimia and irritable bowel syndrome -- a proliferation of diagnoses that should have been a hint they were wrong. After initially resisting, she had come to accept this explanation of her problem, dutifully taking antidepressants and forcing down 3,000 calories of largely indigestible food each day. By the time she consulted one of Groopman's colleagues at Beth Israel Deaconness Hospital in Boston, she weighed 82 pounds. He diagnosed celiac disease, an allergy to the protein gluten found in many grains. The disease denudes the inner surface of the small intestine, reducing its ability to absorb nutrients; it explained all her symptoms.
The woman "was fitted into the single frame of bulimia and anorexia nervosa from the age of twenty," writes Groopman. "It was easily understandable that each of her doctors received her case within that one frame. All the data fit neatly within its borders. There was no apparent reason to redraw her clinical portrait, to look at it from another angle.
Many of the mistakes Groopman describes are variants of this one. They come from the physician's inability to keep his or her mind open, a reluctance to abandon initial impressions or received wisdom, and a willingness to ignore (often unconsciously) contradictory evidence. At the same time, the facts of biology rightly steer physicians away from endlessly pursuing improbable diagnoses -- a truth captured in such medical-school aphorisms as: "When you hear hoofbeats, don't immediately think of zebras" and "Don't forget that common things are still common."
"It is a matter," Groopman writes, "of juggling seemingly contradictory bits of data simultaneously in one's mind and then seeking other information to make a decision, one way or another. This juggling . . . marks the expert physician -- at the bedside or in a darkened radiology suite."
This need for self-awareness during the act of thinking and working extends to the physician's emotional state and personal beliefs. How a doctor feels about a patient can have a major effect on the care provided to people who are obese, poor, stupid, mentally ill, addicted, foreign, criminal, deviant or ill-smelling -- as well as to those who are rich, powerful, famous, personally familiar or smarter than the doctor.
