Sunday, October 19, 2014

East Timor Medical Elective - Week 4 (Part 2 / 6)

JOAO” (GLOBAL HEART FAILURE, and PLACEBO EFFECT?)

Monday evening was very sombre by comparison. I was about to go home at 6 PM, but as per Murphy's Law, was informed by a nurse that a new patient just arrived to the Emergency Room.
“Joao” was a boy who came with his parents, feeling quite short of breath. Karl and Maria were still busy in their afternoon ward rounds but would soon check him out. His legs were both swollen with pitting oedema, abdomen and JVP distended, all from Right Heart Failure. There were crackles in the bases of his lungs, suggesting Left Heart Failure too. His heart was already beating very fast. Unfortunately, he had Mitral Stenosis which was untreated for years, and now we were looking at the end complications. Dr. Dan already commenced him on a very low dose of Beta-Blockers to slow down his heart rate, in addition to taking Frusemide (a diuretic Rx). I was really anxious for him to get rid of his “excess” fluid as much as possible.

He was already on medication, I thought. This is a medical emergency, so ABC, ABC. I quickly looked at his palms and the inside of his mouth. He wasn't cyanosed yet, but clearly had increased work of breathing. I ran out of the room to get a pulse oximeter, returned and clipped it to his finger. 94% saturation, so still ok-ish. Joao and his parents didn't understand what the pulse oximeter did, so I basically said it shows how much oxygen is in the blood, and that anything above 90% is still acceptable. Joao and his parents then became very focused on the displayed number. But inside, I felt uncomfortable because I wasn't sure if that number was correct though. It also displayed his pulse which was completely inaccurate. I was hoping that by focusing on a number, that it would help quantify his status and calm him down.

I was confident he needed Oxygen for comfort and asked Joao if he wanted to try it. He immediately said yes.

I ran to the nurses' room, and brought back the oxygen tank with a mask. He looked relieved when it arrived, and I started putting it on him. I tried to switch on the Oxygen Tank and turned the delivery rate to 6 Litres / minute, but there was a leak in the delivery device connecting to it, releasing a small “air stream”. Barely any of the Oxygen was going through the tube.

I felt devastated. Was Murphy's Law cursing me again? What should I say to him?

I dramatically increased the delivery rate, and a bit of the Oxygen was now flowing through the tube, with the “air stream” producing a prominent hiss. Oh dear, lots of wastage. I asked Joao if he could feel it coming through, and he said yes, but only a bit. 

He looked much calmer now, but inside I felt guilty. A lot of Oxygen was leaking out and being wasted, which could've gone to other future patients in Cardio-Respiratory distress. How far should one go when there are limited resources? His Oximetry sats was hovering at around 94 or 95%. But how much Oxygen is he really receiving? I couldn't quantify it, and was wondering how much of his calmness was from actually receiving significant Oxygen, or from the placebo effect of looking like he's receiving a treatment. Calming his parents down would also have influence on him.

I holding his hands for a few minutes, and the room was silent apart from the hiss. Karl and Maria soon arrived, and ceased the Oxygen delivery as it would be unsustainable at the current delivery rate, rapidly depleting the Oxygen tank. I offered to lower it to the original 6 Litres / minute, but this was also considered a bad idea: If Joao wasn't actually receiving the Oxygen, then wearing the mask would only result in him breathing back in more Carbon Dioxide, worsening the situation. His Oximetry sats was still acceptable in room air, but Joao clearly looked more distressed / upset.
Karl and Maria were medically correct, but in my mind, I was still anxious. I was using the Oxygen Tank as a psychological crutch, and obsessed about giving Joao Oxygen. I called a BPC assistant who also did some device repair, but he was unable to repair the leak. 

There was one more Oxygen tank, but much heavier. Joao got admitted to the main ward, with that Oxygen tank placed next to his bed for “comfort”, even though the attached device also leaked. I felt really sorry for him. No working Oxygen tanks at BPC tonight.

Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die.

It was getting dark and I had to return home. I said bye bye to Joao and his family. That was the last I saw of him.

At home that night, I realized how obsessive I was about the Oxygen, and how emotionally “soft” I was. I felt so bad/sad to see him suffer, and wanted to give the Oxygen not only to comfort him psychologically, but myself as well. I wanted to give them the impression that I was doing something, even though clinically it wasn't doing much, and resources-wise, unviable. There was an element of selfishness and I felt guilty. I was being empathetic, but I had the wrong application.
When there are limited medical resources, you have to be prudent as much as possible. It's always a challenge to help many people in such a setting, where there's only so much you can do. There'll be many times where you just have to be brutal and ration things out (eg opioid analgesia), when in a developed country, everyone would have far more access to it. You're not being intentionally mean or cruel, but trying to use resources wisely based on priority.

In fact, it could be argued that in the process of “overtreating” 1 Patient, you'd be impairing the outcomes of many others, which some would consider as even more selfish. I suppose in Australia, where rationing of this degree has yet to take place, Drs have far more breadth to order investigations and prescribe medications to please Patients (demanding or not), in addition to covering their asses Medico-Legally. At the end of the day, you are working as a Dr, and not as a “People-Pleaser” (even if it attracts more referrals and repeat appointments). For the sake of good Clinical Practice, there'll eventually come a point where you need to set boundaries and say “No”.

Note: Joao was transferred to GVNH the next morning, but died several days later. I couldn't get any further details from the Ward Clerk at GVNH. RIP... : (

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