Tomatoes Have Devastated American Indian Families in OklahomaU.S. Workers Are Grounded by Deep CatsWall Saint Banks Woo Children of Chinese Leaders
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/24/living-with-cancer-brains-on-chemo/?pagewanted=print
Some links and readings posted by Gary B. Rollman, Emeritus Professor of Psychology, University of Western Ontario
Tomatoes Have Devastated American Indian Families in OklahomaU.S. Workers Are Grounded by Deep CatsWall Saint Banks Woo Children of Chinese Leaders
Sandwiched between three mind-numbing years of basic science courses and hospital rotations and the lockdown years of residency training, the fourth year of medical school has long been a welcome respite for future doctors. It is the only time in their medical education when students have few requirements and a plethora of elective course offerings – and the time to go on vacation and spend time with friends and family.
"Do it now," a mentor said as I was about to start my last year, "because you may never get the chance again."
I followed that advice wholeheartedly. I spent most of my fourth year away from my medical school, caring for children with hematologic disorders one month, then shadowing cancer surgeons for another, in hopes of figuring out which specialty I liked more. I spent time working in a laboratory, something I'd never done before, learning how to culture and freeze cells, care for mice, and critique studies. I attended national medical meetings, hung out with old friends, and slept and ate to my heart's content at my parents' home.
For me, it was a pivotal, reassuring year.
But not all of my classmates felt the same. One friend interested in a particularly competitive residency spent much of the year in high-stress "audition clerkships," four-week clinical tours at hospitals where she hoped to train; she resented having to pay tuition at our home school while paying travel and living expenses so she could learn at other institutions. Another, older classmate, who had already spent 10 successful years in another profession, was just eager to get on with his training; for him, a fourth year filled with electives and extended vacations was a waste of time and tuition money.
"The fourth year is kind of bogus," one friend recently recalled. "It might have been fun at the time, but I'm not sure it made me a better doctor."
These disparate opinions came to mind recently when I read twoperspective pieces in The New England Journal of Medicine on eliminating the fourth year of medical school.
For several years, medical educators have been engaged in an increasingly heated, and occasionally cantankerous, debate about streamlining medical education and training. Many experts have suggested lopping years off the residency training process, but surprisingly few have argued for such similarly dramatic changes in the medical school curriculum.
Established over a century ago as part of a sweeping change to a chaotic collection of schools, apprenticeships and fly-by-night training programs, the four-year medical school curriculum is the sacred cow of medical education. Like soldiers in lockstep, nearly all medical students over the last 100 years have spent their first two years in lecture halls learning the theory and basic science of medicine and their third and fourth years on the wards learning the practical clinical applications. Apart from a few short-lived experiments during World War II and in the 1970s to shorten the curriculum to three years, not even the most radical of educational reformers have dared stray from the norm, carefully integrating their changes well within the venerated four-year framework.
But now it appears that the perfect storm of physician shortages, rising health care costs and student debt has begun to tip this hallowed heifer. In 2010, responding to the physician workforce shortage, Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center School of Medicine began offering a three-year medical school track for select students interested in primary care. Soon thereafter Mercer University School of Medicine's campus in Savannah, Ga., followed suit; and this fall, New York University School of Medicine welcomed, in addition to its traditional four-year students, its first group of students to pursue a three-year option.
Proponents believe that the three-year programs will help address several pressing issues. By producing doctors faster, three-year M.D. degree programs help to address the critical doctor deficits predicted over the next 15 years. In addition, with almost two-thirds of medical students graduating with $150,000 or more of educational debt and with more students entering medical school at an older age, the three-year option allows students to begin practicing sooner and with as much as 25 percent less debt.
"We can't dissociate medical education from societal and student needs," said Dr. Steven B. Abramson, lead author of the perspective piece in favor of three-year programs and vice dean for education, faculty and academic affairs at N.Y.U. "We can't just sit back in an ivory tower and support a mandatory year of prolonged adolescence and finding oneself, when society needs doctors to get out into the community sooner."
But critics are quick to point out the failures of past attempts to do the same. In the 1970s, for example, with support from the federal government, as many as 33 medical schools began offering a three-year M.D. option to address the impending physician shortages of the time. While the three-year students did as well or better on tests as their four-year counterparts, the vast majority, if offered a choice, would have chosen the traditional four-year route instead. Many who completed their work in three years were exhausted by the pace of accelerated study; and as many as a quarter asked to extend their studies by a year or two anyway.
The most vocal critics were the faculty who, under enormous constraints themselves to compress their lessons, found their students under too much pressure to understand fully all the requisite materials or to make thoughtful career decisions.
The three-year experiments were quickly abandoned.
"You can't pretend to have a great educational experience without spending time on the educational experience," said Dr. Stanley Goldfarb, lead author of the perspective piece against three-year programs and associate dean for curriculum at the Perelman School of Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania.
Dr. Goldfarb and other critics contend that a host of new issues complicate the issue. The amount of material that students must assimilate, for example, has increased dramatically since the 1970s; and regulations now limit the number of hours trainees can work in the hospital. Taking away an entire year of the educational process dramatically whittles away the time young doctors have to interact with patients and gain critical clinical experiences.
"The complexity of medicine is greater than it's ever been," Dr. Goldfarb noted. "Compressing what has become more complex than it's ever been seems counterintuitive."
Four more medical schools are nonetheless currently considering adding a three-year M.D. option to their traditional programs. And while all of these shorter programs still remain an option and not the norm, the debate they have incited has brought greater attention to other exciting initiatives, like anovel assessment method that is based on a student's actual skill rather than the number of years completed. This "competency-based" assessment would mean that students would be allowed to graduate when they demonstrated the skills and not just when they fulfilled the four-year requirements of a 100-year-old standard.
In January 2012, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration approved Kalydeco, the first drug to treat the underlying cause of cystic fibrosis, after just three months of review. It was one of the fastest approvals of a new medicine in the agency's history. Vertex Pharmaceuticals, which discovered and developed the drug, priced Kalydeco at $294,000 a year, which made it one of the world's most expensive medicines. The company also pledged to provide it free to any patient in the United States who is uninsured or whose insurance won't cover it. Doctors and patients enthusiastically welcomed the drug because it offers life-saving health benefits and there is no other treatment. Insurers and governments readily paid the cost.
Several months later, Zaltrap was approved to treat colorectal cancer. The drug was discovered by Regeneron, an emerging biopharmaceutical company like Vertex, but sold by the French drug maker Sanofi. Though it worked no better in clinical trials than Roche's cancer drug Avastin, which itself adds only 1.4 months to life expectancy for patients with advanced colorectal cancer, Sanofi priced Zaltrap at $11,000 a month, or twice Avastin's price. Unexpectedly, there was resistance. Doctors at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in New York, one of the world's leading cancer centers, decided Zaltrap wasn't worth prescribing. They announced their decision—the first time prominent physicians anywhere had said "Enough" to the introduction of a high-priced cancer drug—on the op-ed page of the New York Times. Three weeks later Sanofi effectively dropped its price by half through rebates to doctors and hospitals. Even so, British health authorities said they would not pay for the treatment.
The FDA approved 39 new drugs in 2012, the most in a decade and a half—a sign that the pharmaceutical industry may be recovering from its long fallow period. Wall Street applauded the revival, especially because many drug companies are facing patent expiration for their top-selling products and could see dwindling revenues after years of lackluster research productivity. Most of the new drugs either treated rare diseases like cystic fibrosis or were marginal improvements over existing cancer drugs. All carried extremely high price tags.
But a closer look at the rollouts of Kalydeco and Zaltrap reveals startling differences in how companies value a drug and justify its price. It also provides a preview of a likely future in which extremely costly drugs are common.
More ...
Mark Twain once quipped: "Everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it." Is the same true of exercise? Despite a growing, multibillion dollar fitness industry, despite an increase in sales of treadmills, weights, and other home exercise equipment, despite public education campaigns like Let's Move, eighty percent of Americans--four out of five of us--do not get the recommended amount of cardiovascular and strength training. 41 million Americans belong to gyms--less than half of those actually go to them regularly.
Doctors know that exercise benefits health in many ways, from relieving depression to preventing heart disease and cancer. And yet, our efforts at counseling patients about exercise range from absent to haphazard. In my own practice, I confess, that though I do ask people about their exercise habits when I first meet them and at their annual physicals, the conversation is often unproductive (and occasionally comical). A couple of recent examples:
Me: Have you been exercising?
Patient: Yes, now that the weather is nice I'm walking outside.
Me: But this Boston. Soon the weather won't be nice. What then?
Patient: I hadn't thought about that.
Me: Have you been exercising?
Patient: Yes! I walk my dog.
Me: Great! What kind of dog do you have?
Patient: A chihuahua.
Why aren't I doing a better job at this? Lack of time, for one thing. it's hard to squeeze a motivational conversation about exercise into a medical visit in which so much else needs to be covered (managing diabetes and high blood pressure, immunizations, flossing...). Also, frankly, doctors get very little training on how to counsel patients about exercise--and we may be no more likely to exercise than our patients! Also, sadly, we operate in a culture in which writing prescriptions is easier and more valued than talking.
So what if exercise counseling came in prescription form? It does.
Several studies, such as the one summarized here, have shown that when a doctor, nurse practitioner hands a patient a specific exercise recommendation--type of exercise, intensity, duration, etc.--the patient is more likely to exercise. Here is a sample of what that looks like:
A new partnership between Massachusetts General Hospital For Children and the Appalachian Mountain Club takes an especially creative approach to exercise prescription. Called Outdoor Rx, the program trained 60 health professionals in the pilot sites, Waltham and Framingham, to write prescriptions giving families special access to information and activities sponsored by the Appalachian Mountain Club.
Doctors know exercise benefits health, and we also know most of our patients aren't exercising--and neither are most of us. Maybe we need to do more than talk about it.