In the eyes of parents, children are always children, even
when they are grown. So when our
youngest son, 20 years old and a junior in college, needed sinus surgery, my
wife and I drove the 7 hours to see him through the surgery and take care of
him. That is what parents and families
do. As a physician and as someone who
routinely searches for best physicians and facilities as part of my job, I had investigated
the surgeon and the facility and had decided that he should have his care in the
city where he goes to school.
The surgeon was perfect.
Caring, skilled and communicative.
The facility and the health system was excellent. The surgery was less straightforward than we
had hoped, as his obstructed sinus was profoundly infected with abscess
formation. The skill of the surgeon and
the operating team was a blessing as operating on infected tissue is always more
difficult. Thus the one hour surgery
turned out to take three hours. Our son
came out of surgery and after a few hours in the recovery room and in the
extended care area, we took him back to our hotel, as we thought we could
better care for him post-operatively there than in his student apartment.
We walked him into the hotel, supporting him on either
side. He was shaky on his feet as one
would expect after hours of anesthesia.
He had been intubated (had a breathing tube inserted into his trachea)
during the surgery so his throat was sore and his voice very weak. No surprise there. In the hotel room, we were busy changing the
dressing under his nose (a so-called “moustache” dressing) which was catching
the bloody discharge from his nose, and also helping him deal with some
difficulty with urination, also no surprise after anesthesia and surgery. We were helping him stay on top of his proper
pain medication dosage and anti-nausea medication. We gave him the antibiotics he needed at the
proper time intervals. And then it hit
us. My wife and I are doctors. We are used to these issues and feel very
well equipped to provide post op care and post op monitoring. But what if we had no background in medicine? What if we were accountants or store clerks,
or engineers or bus drivers who suddenly had to be thrust into this role? Would we feel as confident and
comfortable? What if the patient had no
one to help them, with a friend driving them home and then leaving them alone for
the rest of the evening, night and days to recover?
We were keeping him hydrated, pushing fluids. We were watching him to make sure the bloody
discharge did not suddenly turn into bleeding that would be much more serious –
even potentially life threatening. We suddenly
understood emotionally the truth of the adage that people in our modern era were
discharged from hospitals “quicker and sicker”.
We intellectually knew that people, who had day surgery, were sent home
from the hospital often in need of care, even if they were not in need of
hospitalization. The norm today is for
that care and monitoring to be provided by family and friends with little
training and support in those often critical first 12 to 48 hours after
surgery. Rarely do medical facilities,
no matter how good, review the adequacy of that caregiver as they discharge the
post-operative patient to home.
The facility where he had the surgery had done everything in
a world class way. The instructions
given to us upon discharge were thorough and clear. The surgeon had given us good explanations
and instructions and had personally called our son the first day post
operatively to check on how he was feeling.
Everything was done the way it is supposed to be done. The problem from our prospective – from a
family prospective – is the profound emphasis on efficiency by the rules of the
payment systems and the minimizing of the human element of families caring for
loved ones.
Thorough instructions do not take the place of experience
and training. The care of someone with
dressings, with pain management, and with all of the issues related to bodily
functions are no longer seen as being efficient when done in the hospital. Those activities do not reach the level of care
that meets criteria for skilled home care.
But at the same time, patient and family fears and uncertainties are not
taken into consideration. The risk of
being alone is not addressed. Instead,
the families are forced to take on roles for which they have no training and no
skills. Patients are believed to have
the ability to monitor themselves. It is
believed that providing reassurance around wound drainage, expected post-operative
pain, and family’s worries that the healing process may not be progressing as
normal, is just not efficient.
My belief is that from a cost point of view, this responsibility
given to patients and families leads to unnecessary ER visits and unnecessary readmissions
as the caregivers often do not know how to deal with a loved one, having just
gone under the knife, who complains of pain and other symptoms. Even though on paper, criteria may make sense,
when they don’t take into account the experience, knowledge, and fears of the
family caregivers or the lack of any caregivers, they are not adequate and can
lead to poor clinical outcomes and ironically higher cost.
Our son is now doing fine, and I feel great gratitude and
admiration for the surgeon and his team.
On a broader scale, I worry about whether our push for efficiency in
health care has actually hurt our quality of care and paradoxically increased
costs. I worry that we may be minimizing
the caring, understanding and empathy that are necessary components of health
care. I worry that we may not be paying
enough attention to the informal and untrained and unpaid caregivers who now
must do so much of the monitoring and care.
I worry that even as we improve the quality of care inside facilities;
we ignore the fact that patients go home and are still sick and need care and
monitoring. I hope and pray that we find
ways to address my worries in an increasingly population based medical care
system.