Matula Thoughts June 2, 2017.

Qualification, adaptations, & stories

3876 words

 

 

One.  

             Ann Arbor’s redbud flowers  are now gone in June, Memorial Day is behind us, and summer is at hand. Redbuds appeared in April and stole the foliage show until other flowers appeared and trees leafed out. I saw the last redbud flowers in early May and by mid-May they were gone (above & below: Mike Hommel’s tree – also shown in our May posting). Redbud flowers, more of a magenta pink than red, are pollinated by long-tongued bees. Other bees are not so well-qualified, as their tongues are too short to reach redbud nectaries, the secretory structures at the base of stamens containing the food that attracts pollinators. Generalist bees forage among all flowers, but specialist bees with tongues over 5.5 mm work the deep nectaries. Since the first “Adam and Eve” bees 100 million years ago, the creatures adapted to changing environments by creating diverse successors, some of which survived better than others in their temporal milieus. A Science paper showed Colorado bumblebee tongues shrank nearly 25% in the past 40 years, adapting to changing alpine floral diversity, but putting long-tube flowers like the redbud (and foxglove, Indian paintbrush, clover, snapdragon, and bluebell) at risk. [N. Miller-Struttmann et al. Science 349:1541, 2015] The mutuality or co-dependence of bees and flowers is one of nature’s fine arts. [Consultation from beekeeper-urologist Brian Stork of West Shore Urology in Muskegon.] Qualification in the sense of fitness for a purpose, skill, or accomplishment, is at the heart of evolution, civilization, and our specialized world of healthcare.

On the human scale, we adjust graduate medical education to produce a diverse set of our own professional successors, anticipating that they will fit tomorrow’s health care milieu better than my generation could if we cloned ourselves. In the next few weeks graduating residents and fellows across North America will become “qualified” to practice medicine after completing formal training in their specialties, although ultimately they will need board certification. The faculty backup they initially required, became redundant incrementally over their 5-8 years of training, so that by now they are more like colleagues of their teachers than trainees. Medical training, most keenly focused at the GME level, has done well in preparing the next generation of doctors for careers as qualified specialists. Urology residents and fellows in Ann Arbor are well-qualified with diverse clinical, research, teaching, and leadership talents to fit the diverse healthcare environments they will enter. Above all we hope their professionalism and critical thinking skills will be at the forefront of their lives and careers as they pollinate their fields and communities.

Once qualified, health care providers face the challenge of keeping up with the changing knowledge, skills, and technology of modern healthcare. One effective way to do this is through professional meetings and for urologists the American Urological Association, this year in Boston, is center stage. The MUSIC reception and the Nesbit Society gathering were worth the trip just by themselves. Sunday’s opening plenary session featured Julian Wan, as associate editor, giving a Journal of Urology highlights presentation, our alumnus Barry Kogan (current chair at Albany) moderating three debates, and Dana Ohl leading a transgender discussion. I could mention at least 100 other presentations, posters, panel appearances, and other “visibilities” from UM to say nothing of those of our alumni, but the national convention is far too big to get to most venues.


[Nesbit reception at Moakley Courthouse. Above: Gary Faerber University of Utah, Bahaa Malaeb, Lindsey Hampson UCSF, Noah Canvasser UC Davis.  Below: Mahendra Bhandari – Vatikutti Institute, Khurshid Ghani, Meidee Goh, David Fry]

 

Two.

Education and medical practice were quite different 100 years ago as Russian physician-author Mikhail Bulgakov (1891-1940) relates in a story of a young doctor starting out during a cold autumn in rural Russia. The experience was likely similar in Europe, Africa, or the Americas until specialty medicine and formalized graduate medical education took hold. In a little more than 12 pages, Bulgakov tells a tale pulled from his experience in 1916 as a newly “qualified” doctor sent to a provincial town in revolutionary Russia. The young physician was terrified imagining his first medical crisis, for example, a patient might present to his clinic with an inguinal hernia, or even worse, a strangulated one. The doctor recalled observing only a single hernia repair as a student and even though surgical texts were at hand in his new office, he was well aware that he lacked any experiential knowledge: “‘I’m like Dmitry the Pretender – nothing but a sham,’ I thought stupidly and sat down at the table again.”

“The Embroidered Towel,” was one of 9 stories in Bulgakov’s collection A Country Doctor’s Notebook, written in the 1920s and translated into English by Michael Glenny in 1975. The story rings true to my experiences as a midlevel UCLA surgical resident rotating at San Bernardino Country Medical Center, pretty much on my own for general, orthopedic, and neurosurgical crises at night in the mid-1970’s. Bulgakov (above) began practice as a “qualified doctor” in a chaotic world buffeted by WWI and the Russian Civil War. His rural medical practice was cut short as successive governments drafted him as a physician, culminating with the Ukrainian People’s Army in February, 1919 sending him to the Northern Caucasus. After contracting typhus, he abandoned medicine for a writing career, as a journalist, playwright, satirist, and science fiction author. His early work was favored by Stalin, but later writing ran afoul of the Communist Party and one play, The Run, was personally banned by Stalin. Bulgakov’s satirical novel, The Master and Margarita, was published posthumously in 1966 by his widow. The author is said to have died of nephrosclerosis. The Master and Margarita has been the subject of films, mini-series, and a graphic novel rendering. A current book by physician Julie Lekstrom Himes, Mikhail and Margarita: A Novel, uses Bulgakov’s book as a platform for her own debut novel, set in 1933 Soviet Russia.

 

Three.

            The study of history needs no justification to educated people. Knowledge of the past may not perfectly predict the future, but provides clues, data, and wisdom to help find optimal pathways to the future.

The late pediatric surgeon and scientist, Judah Folkman (above) was a man of uncommon wisdom and he had this to say when we visited his lab in Boston with a group of students and faculty from Michigan’s Victor Vaughn Society: “If you don’t understand the history and mission of the organization in which you work, at some point you will feel exploited.” Folkman was paraphrasing his chief at the Massachusetts General Hospital, Dr. Edward Delos Churchill, from an internship lecture. The point, in a larger sense, is that it is essential to job satisfaction, in addition to quality work products, that workers understand the history and mission of the place where they work. For those of us in health care, and urology most particularly, our history and mission are inspiring. If someone misses this inspiration, they are somehow stranded in left field.

It is up to all of us in medicine to study and teach our past to our colleagues, to our successors, and to the public. History, however, is no fixed thing. Stories of the past are fungible – new facts turn up and these may or may not turn out to be true. As times change, reinterpretation of the past changes the old stories. Furthermore, all history is connected and no parochial histories, such as those of urology, can omit consideration of the rest of the world – and vice versa. Ian Thompson once proposed we write a book called How Urology Changed the World. This project remains on our bucket lists. By the way, Folkman’s chief, Dr. Churchill, was Mediterranean Theatre Commander for Surgery during WWII, establishing regional blood banks and air evacuation of the wounded. [ED Churchill. Surgeon to Soldiers. Lippincott Williams and Wilkins. Philadelphia, 1972.] [LS King. Book review. JAMA 220:595, 1972.]

 

Four.

D-Day anniversary is June 6. We shouldn’t forget that day in 1944, not only the particular day, but also the forces that led up to it, its incredible stories, and the world that followed. The politics, deployments, leaders, meteorology, weaponry, heroism, cowardice, teamwork, and duplicity constitute innumerable stories, stories that will change as new facts and analyses come into play and lead to a greater truth.

The iconic photograph above (called “Into the jaws of death”) was taken by Robert F. Sargent, Chief Photographer’s Mate. It shows disembarkation at Omaha Beach of Company E, 16th Infantry, 1st Army Division wading onto the beach at Fox Green Section about to encounter the German 352nd Division. German forces were commanded by General Rommel, who was away from Normandy that day because of his wife’s birthday. D-Day took the Germans by surprise and early signs of the invasion were discounted by Hitler, who was certain that Calais would be Eisenhower’s Allied Operation Overlord landing site. The American 1st Army, commanded by Omar Bradley, was responsible for both the Omaha and Utah Beach invasions. Two-thirds of Omaha’s Company E became casualties and of the 39 soldiers I count in the photograph, 26 would die or be seriously injured. Overall Omaha casualties were the worst among the 5 sectors that also consisted of Gold, Juno, and Sword under Canada and Britain. Allies landed 156,000 troops at Normandy on D-Day – 34,250 at Omaha. Only Juno and Gold linked up on D-Day, and it wasn’t until June 12 that all 5 beachheads consolidated. Allied casualties on D-Day were at least 10,000 with 4,414 confirmed dead, while German casualties were estimated at 4,000-9,000. If you have not visited Normandy, you should. Bradley was the last of America’s nine 5-star generals. I knew him briefly at the end of his life when I was at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

 

Five.

The Pointe du Hoc speech of Ronald Reagan at the 40-year D-Day anniversary was mentioned last month in this posting. This speech was novel for its use of personal stories of D-Day to make that moment in time poignant to the audience. Individual stories build persuasion through ethos, pathos, and logos. My daughter Emily, when she was a Ph.D. student in English, instructed me repeatedly in those three classic modes of rhetoric and I’m finally starting to appreciate them. A story is persuasive when it comes from a credible source (ethos), if it appeals to sympathetic emotion (our mirror neurons yielding pathos), and if the narrative makes sense (logos). The audience must reasonably accept the story and storyteller as believable and honest, as well as agree with its observations or conclusion. Of course not all stories are authentic, although it is expected that the stories and histories of medicine are genuine.

“The United States Army’s clinical histories of medical practice during the Second World War form a significant addition to the literature of medical history,” Quinn H. Becker, Surgeon General of the U.S. Army, wrote. Those words were the introduction to the urology volume, edited by John F. Patton, in Surgery in World War II, produced by the Medical Department of the United States Army. My friend and former fellow here at Michigan, John Norbeck, gave me this book when it came out 30 years ago. [John F. Patton, Ed. Medical Department, Unites States Army. Surgery in World War II. Urology. Office of the Surgeon General and Center of Military History Unites States Army. Washington, DC, 1987.] Becker’s predecessor as Army Surgeon General was Bernhard T. Mittemeyer, my former commander at Walter Reed, fellow urologist, and friend who most recently served as president of Texas Tech University.

Six surgeon general’s later the name Eric Schoomaker pops up for the Army Surgeon General term of 2007 – 2011. Eric was a UM undergraduate who then completed UM Medical School with an additional Ph.D. in genetics. He undertook residency and fellowship in hematology at Duke followed by a distinguished Army career. Eric was our Medical School commencement speaker in 2012, when Jim Woolliscroft presided as dean. UMMS graduation is a major milestone for students and their families and it is also a meaningful ceremony for faculty – when else do you get to recite the Hippocratic Oath in sync with your colleagues? I had to miss it this year due to concurrence with the annual meeting of the AUA and Nesbit Alumni reunion. This year Francis Collins was UMMS commencement speaker, who was also linked to UM Department of Human Genetics as a faculty member under the great Jim Neel. The Collins address featured him singing on the guitar.

 

Six.    

            Cornelius Ryan brought D-Day and urology together for me. This Irish journalist covered WWII and turned his reporting into three excellent historical accounts, The Longest Day (1959), The Last Battle (1966), and A Bridge Too Far (1974). When I was a urology resident at UCLA I helped care for a 50-year old patient with metastatic prostate cancer when Ryan’s personal and similar story with the disease was published. Ryan had been diagnosed just he was struggling to begin writing A Bridge Too Far. He had seen a NYC urologist for lower urinary tract symptoms, a prostate nodule was detected, and biopsy was performed. Ryan returned to the office on Fifth Avenue, July 24, 1970 to get the results when the urologist informed him that the biopsy showed prostate cancer and radical prostatectomy was the only hope for “cure.”

“The doctor wants me to have the prostatectomy next week. Such urgency appalls me. I cannot make that crucial decision without more time. Professionally, I have never accepted a single piece of historical data without researching it to the fullest, collecting all the opinions and interviews I could.”  [A Private Battle. Published posthumously with Kathryn Morgan Ryan. New York City, 1979. p, 22. Simon & Schuster.]

Ryan wanted more of an explanation, but his questions were rebuffed. Home in Connecticut later that day he began a series of dictations that included the quote above, but never shared these with his wife. Ryan visited experts around the world and obtained more studies and advice, before returning to New York and discovering Willet Whitmore, for whom he developed great admiration and trust. Ryan began radiation therapy at Memorial Sloan Kettering that autumn, yet the cancer spread and continued to disseminate in spite of drug therapy. Kind and compassionate care was evident in interactions with Whitmore and most other physicians, but the initial condescending urologist, botched handoffs, institutional smugness, and healthcare disparities Ryan witnessed, are reported in sharp contrast. Over the next four years, as he struggled with spreading prostate cancer, Ryan completed his book.

After Ryan died in 1976 his widow, Kathryn Morgan, found the tapes in his desk.  She had them transcribed, interspersed her own observations and diary notes, and then published the account in 1979 as A Private Battle. I can’t recall how I came to know of the book, but I read it around that time. Somewhere along the line between UCLA, Walter Reed, and the University of Michigan I lost my copy, but after my own radical prostatectomy in 2014 I thought of Ryan, tracked down the book, and re-read it. A Private Battle contains meaningful lessons on health care and rekindled my curiosity about WWII, leading me to Ryan’s other books, followed by Steven Ambrose’s account of Eisenhower, Soldier and President and the newer biography by Jean Smith.

The Ryan papers ended up in the libraries at Ohio University. [Above: Cornelius Ryan at his desk. Photo and copyright by Eugene Cook.]

 

Seven.

Eisenhower, one of the great generals of history, detested war and recognized the necessity of international cooperation for peace. The deliberate restructuring of Europe after the war, management of tensions with the Soviet Union, and construction of the European Union were meant to bring stability and peace to the world. Peace, however, has been illusive in much of the rest of the planet and furthermore the postwar structures in Europe are unraveling.

Like most of us, Eisenhower had health issues. A knee injury altered his career path and turned him from a high-level football player to a remarkable coach, influencing his ascent to leadership. He began to smoke at West Point, largely as an ironic challenge to the authoritarian nature of the school and became a chain smoker throughout most of his career, particularly during WWII. After the war his doctor told him to quit smoking and he did, “cold-turkey.” Recurrent ileitis, Crohn’s disease, troubled him throughout life. Although he complained minimally, several hospitalizations and one operative procedure were necessary. As a resident I would learn about the “Eisenhower procedure,” namely a bowel resection for localized Crohn’s disease. During the White House years, Eisenhower’s physician was Howard Snyder, the grandfather of my friend and colleague Howard McCrum Snyder at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. The younger Snyder recalls going to the White House swimming pool with his grandfather to swim with the president. Eisenhower’s cardiac issues were significant later in his life. A book by Clarence Lasby discusses the 1955 heart attack and makes judgments about Snyder’s management and the concealment of the illness, thoughts that rely on today’s standards of care and transparency. [CG Lasby. Eisenhower’s Heart Attack. How Ike Beat Heart Disease and Held on to the Presidency. University Press of Kansas. Lawrence KS, 1997.] But for Dr. Snyder, Nixon might have had his turn as president before JFK.

 

Eight.

 Since Eisenhower’s days medical practice has changed and tools to address heart disease are enormously different. Eisenhower had bed rest, the EKG, and digitalis. Today we have an armamentarium of medications, surgical bypass, replacement parts, stents, TAVR, electrophysiology ablations, and heart transplants. The scientific cocoon of 21st century medicine is countered by local workplace problems. These may be matters of patient access, bed capacity, EHR problems, technology constraints, and billing and coding issues.

Although painful for us on the frontline of health care, they are “first world problems” that come into perspective when considering the rest of the world. Journals such as The Lancet frame the global perspective. For example, a recent paper examined the hypothesis that better cook stoves might prevent pneumonia in children under 5 years old in rural Malawi.  Unfortunately, the study (a cluster randomized controlled trial) found no benefit. What stuck in my mind, however, was the opening statement of the paper.

“Almost half the world’s population, including 700 million Africans, rely on biomass fuels for cooking (e.g. animal dung, crop residues, wood, and charcoal)… Biomass fuel is typically burned in open fires, often indoors, leading to high levels of air pollution from smoke.”  [Mortimer K, Ndamala CB, Naunje AW et al. A cleaner burning biomass-fueled cookstove. The Lancet. 389:167-175, 2017.]

While we dither in our journals and at our professional meetings over trivial first world issues, such as the virtues of robotic surgery versus open surgery or HIPPA compliance in electronic health records, half the world cooks its meals on open fires using dung or other biomass fuels.

Bulgakov brings us closer to that other world. He served his patients to his technical limits, but insecurity due to the inadequate knowledge and tools of his time as well lack of good professionalism role modeling left him abrupt and authoritative to patients and families. Fifty years later the Fifth Avenue urologist of Cornelius Ryan was no kinder. Kindness and consideration of patient preferences are fundamental to the concept of the good doctor, however it seems to have taken federal regulation to drive that sensibility home as MACRA and CAHPS link professional compensation to evaluations by patients.

 

Nine.

Case reports. Bulgakov’s stories are narratives of actual cases or extrapolated patient experiences and we may never quite know where fact ended and imagination or “artistic license” took over. It doesn’t really matter, because the stories ring true and are constructed artfully although presented as “stories” rather than clinical case reports. Imbued with experience and fact, they are intended as fiction and we judge them accordingly, but well-crafted fiction can illuminate reality, honing a story well enough to let the reader glimpse a portion of the real world and the human condition with greater acuity than before the reader encountered the story. The judgment of whether Bulgakov’s story was true or imagined is not necessarily essential to readers a century later. If the story rings true and we find meaning (and art) in it, then the author has done a good job. Other physician writers have continued this genre, artfully using clinical experiences and stories to expand consciousness and discover truths about ourselves. David Watts, our Chang Lecturer on Art and Medicine next month, is part of that tradition.

Stories intended as clinical narratives, on the other hand, demand absolute truth in the narrative. This is a bedrock expectation. Truth matters greatly in the real world of clinical medicine and in the academic reporting that surrounds it. A clinical story assumes scrupulous adherence to the facts of the matter and, if presented artfully, the report can have great meaning for the reporter and the readers. The value of a good clinical story is neither necessarily less or greater than the value of a reported clinical experiment, series, trial, or metastudy. Scientific experiments or larger clinical studies may ultimately be true or false, but clinical stories will likely remain durable narratives, unless the story was inaccurately reported or its substance misinterpreted. Some iconic scientific studies such as Mendel’s seeds or Semmelweis’s antisepsis experiment remain iconic and continue to instruct new generations of students. The clinical experiences of Morton with anesthesia, Lister with open bone fractures, or Annandale with successful orchiopexy were presented initially as stories – but they were stories that changed the world.

 

Ten.

Truth is also an expectation in academic humanities and journalism, although it is perhaps more fungible. Political perspective matters and it can put a spin on things. In the Soviet Union, truth was expected to emanate from the political leadership and this paradigm distorted the science, economics, agriculture, and indeed all parts of the nation. For example, the political imprimatur that validated the beliefs of Soviet agronomist Trofim Lysenko had enormous negative consequences for the health and welfare of his nation. [Loren Graham. Lysenko’s Ghost. Epigenetics and Russia. Harvard University Press, 2016] As we approach our big national holiday next month, it’s worth reflecting that the Declaration of Independence is remarkable in human history for liberating people as individuals from governments ruled by particular ideological, religious, or political paradigms. Representational democracy, imperfect as it is, remains mankind’s best hope toward a just, peaceful, cosmopolitan, prosperous, and sustainable world. This is the world that civilized people want to leave behind – a world somewhat better than we found it, granting that sometimes the prospects for this hope seem dimmed. We can tell our stories as historians, biographers, scientists, or journalists. Or we can tell them as artists, philosophers, or fabricators. It is important to discern the difference and to teach that discernment to our successors. Whether by trachea and tongue, pen and paper, or keyboard and internet, stories knit the human fabric together and truth is the ultimate arbiter. Don’t expect data to replace stories, you can support or refute stories with data. You can build stories out of data, perhaps someday using artificial intelligence in robots. But authentic stories will most likely always come from authentic humans.

 

Postscript

Once the redbuds faded away, the dogwoods (more easily pollinated) and other flowers stepped up their games of attraction.

[Above: dogwood. Below: Bee tongue photo from photomicrography.net, amateurmicrography.net http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeheath/5122105785/]

Thanks for reading What’s New/Matula Thoughts this June, 2017.

 

David A. Bloom

University of Michigan, Department of Urology, Ann Arbor

Matula Thoughts August 5, 2016

Matula_Logo1

Matula Thoughts – August 5, 2016

 

Summertime field notes, superheroes, and retrograde thoughts.
3975 words

 

Art Fair

Patient experience. Walking through the Art Fairs last month after great lectures from visiting professors, my thoughts wandered to Matula Thoughts/What’s New, this electronic communication that has become my habit for the past 16 years. It may be presumptuous to think that anyone would spend 20 minutes or more reading this monthly packet approaching 4000 words. Certainly, UM urology residents and faculty are too busy to give this more than a glance, and that’s OK by me. Of the 10 items usually offered I’d be happy if most folks just skimmed them and perhaps discovered one of enough interest to read in detail. Conversely, some alumni and friends hold me to account for each word and fact, and they are enough for me to know that this communication (What’s New email and Matula Thoughts website) is more than my whistling in the wind.

 

 

The_Doctor_Luke_Fildes copy

One.

Art & medicine. Luke Fildes’s painting, The Doctor, shown here last month, deserves further consideration in the afterglow of Don Nakayama’s Chang Lecture on Art & Medicine. [1892, Tate Gallery]. The duality of the doctor-patient relationship, ever so central to our profession, has gotten complicated by changes in technology, growth of subspecialties, necessity of teams and systems, and the sheer expense of modern healthcare. As Fildes shows, medical relationships in the pediatric world extend beyond twosomes and this actually pertains for all ages, since no one is an island. That nuance notwithstanding, the patient experience through the ages and into the complexity of today remains the central organizing principle of medicine.

Nakayama & Chang

[Dr. Chang & Don Nakayama]

An article in JAMA recently explored the patient experience via the Hospital Consumer Assessment of Healthcare Providers & Systems (HCAHPS) Survey. Delivered to random samples of newly discharged adult inpatients, the 32 items queried are measurements of patient experience that parlay into hospital quality comparisons and impact payments. [Tefera, Lehrman, Conway. Measurement of the patient experience. JAMA 315:2167, 2016]

It is unfortunate that health care systems and professional organizations hadn’t previously focused similar attention on patient experience and only now are compelled to investigate and improve it by the survey. We may chafe and groan at HCAHPS, but it reflects well on representational government working on behalf of its smallest and most important common denominator – individual people.

Everyone deserves a good experience when they need health care whether for childbirth, vaccination, otitis, UTI, injury, other ailments and disabilities, or the end of life. If for nothing more than “the golden rule” all of us in health care should constantly fine-tune our work to make patient care experiences uniformly excellent because, after all, we all become patients at points in life. The individual patient care experience is the essential deliverable of medicine and the epicenter of academic health care centers from the first day of medical school to the last day of practice, after which we all surely will become patients again.

 

 

Twitter invasion

Two.

Educating doctors. Last week’s White Coat Ceremony was the first day of medical school class for Michigan’s of 2020. Deans Rajesh Mangulkar and Steven Gay with their admissions team assembled this splendid 170th UMMS class. Unifying ceremonies are important cultural practices and this one is an exciting milestone for students and a pleasant occasion for the faculty who will be teaching the concepts, skills, and professionalism of medicine. Families in attendance held restless infants, took pictures, and applauded daughters and sons. A “doctor in the family,” for most of the audience, happens once in a blue moon, a rare circumstance of joy, and certainly evidence of success and luck in parenting. The attentive audience for the 172 new students entertained only rare social media diversions. Julian Wan represented our department on stage.

Dee at White Coat

Dee Fenner’s keynote talk resonated deeply. She described her career as a female pelvic surgeon and its impact on patients and on herself. Dee talked about the symbolism of the white coat and skewered today’s hype about “personalized medicine”, saying that medicine is always rightly personalized; our ability to tailor health care to the individual genome is just a matter of using better tools.  Alumni president (MCAS) Louito Edje said: “This medical school is the birthplace of experts. You have just taken the first step toward becoming one of those experts.” She recommended cultivation of three fundamental attitudes to knowledge: humility, adaptability, and generosity. Students then came to the stage and announced their names and origins before getting “cloaked.”

Cloaking

The ceremony passes quickly, but is long remembered. Students shortly immerse in intense learning, although medical school is kinder today with less grading, rare attrition, and greater attention to personal success and matters of team work.

New student

My favorite “new medical student story” concerns the late Horace Davenport. He had retired before I arrived in Ann Arbor, but remained active in the medical students’ Victor Vaughn Society that met monthly at a faculty home for a talk over dinner. Davenport, an international expert in physiology, was a superb and fearsome teacher as one student, Joseph J. Weiss (UMMS 1961), recalled from the fall of 1957.

“In our first physiology lecture Dr. Horace Davenport grabbed our attention by announcing that the first person to answer his question correctly would receive an ‘A’ in physiology and be exempt from any examinations or attendance. The question was: ‘What happened in 1623? The context implied an event of significant impact to human knowledge. After a long pause the amphitheater echoed with answers: the discovery of America, the landing of the pilgrim fathers, the death of Leonardo da Vinci. Then Nancy Zuzow called out: ‘The publication of William Harvey’s The Heart and its Circulation’. There was sudden silence. She must be right. How clever of her. Of course a physiologist would see this landmark publication as an event to which we should give homage. Who would have thought that Nancy was so smart? Even Dr. Davenport was impressed. He asked her to stand, and acknowledged that she had provided the first intelligent response. ‘However,’ he noted, ‘that publication occurred in 1628.’ No one could follow up up on Nancy’s response. Dr. Davenport looked around the room, sensed our ignorance, realized we had nothing more to offer, and then said: ‘1623 was the publication of Shakespeare’s First Folio.’ He announced that we would now move on and ‘return to our roles as attendants at the gas station of life”,’ and began his first in a series of three lectures on the ABC of Acid-Base Chemistry.” [Medicine at Michigan, Fall, 2000.  Weiss, a rheumatologist who practiced in Livonia, passed away in October 2015.  Zuzow died in 1964, while chief resident in OB GYN at St. Joseph Mercy, of a cerebral hemorrhage.]

First folio

 

 

Three.

New Perspectives. Visiting professors bring different perspectives and last month the Department of Urology initiated its new academic season with several superb visitors. Distinguished pediatric surgeon Don Nakayama gave our 10th annual Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine on the Diego Rivera Detroit Industry Murals. [Below: full house for Nakayama at Ford Auditorium]

Chang Lecture

I’ve been asked what relevance an art and medicine lecture has for a urology department’s faculty, residents, staff, alumni, and friends. Davenport would not have questioned the matter. This year, in particular, the lecture made perfect sense with Don’s discussion of what can now be called the orchiectomy panel in the Detroit Institute of Arts murals. Hundreds of thousands of people have viewed this work since 1933, including the surgical panel that art historians labeled “brain surgery” – a description unchallenged until Don revealed the scene represented an orchiectomy. His Chang Lecture explained the logic of Rivera’s choice.

Nelsons

Grossmans

Drach

[Top: Caleb & Sandy Nelson; Middle: Bart & Amy Grossman, Bottom: George Drach]

The day after the Chang Lecture, Caleb Nelson (Nesbit 2003) from Boston Children’s Hospital and Bart Grossman (Nesbit 1977) of MD Anderson Hospital in Houston delivered superb Duckett and Lapides Lectures. Caleb discussed the important NIH vesicoureteral reflux study while Bart brought us up to date on bladder cancer, greatly expanding my knowledge regarding the rapid advances in its pathogenesis and therapy. George Drach from the University of Pennsylvania provided a clear and instructive update on Medicaid coverage for children. Concurrent staff training went well thanks to those who stayed behind from this yearly academic morning to manage phones, clinics, and inevitable emergencies.

Lapides Lecture

[Above: Lapides Lecture, Danto Auditorium]

 

 

 

Tortise on post

Four.

Observation & reasoning. Don Coffey, legendary scientist and Johns Hopkins urology scholar, retired recently. Among his numerous memorable sayings he sometimes mentioned an old southern phrase: “if you see a turtle on a fencepost, it ain’t no coincidence.” A tortoise on a post isn’t some random situation that happens once in a blue moon, it is more likely the result of a purposeful and explainable action. (Of course, it is also not a nice thing.) Coffey was arguing for the importance of reflective and critical thinking as we stumble through the world and try to make sense of it, whether on a summertime pasture, in an art gallery, or in a laboratory examining Western blots.

[Above: tortoise sculpture on post. Mike Hommel’s yard AA, summer, 2016. Below: Coffey]

Coffey

feynman1

Richard Feynman (above), Nobel Laureate Physicist, offered a related metaphor.

“What do we mean by ‘understanding’ something? We can imagine that this complicated array of moving things which constitutes ‘the world’ is something like a great chess game being played by the gods, and we are observers of the game. We do not know what the rules of the game are; all we are allowed to do is to watch the playing. Of course if we watch long enough we may eventually catch on to a few of the rules… (Every once in a while something like castling is going on that we still do not understand).” [RP Feynman. Six Easy Pieces. 1995 Addison-Wesley. P.24]

Observation, reasoning, and experimentation are the fundamental parts of the scientific method that allows us to figure things out. Feynman’s castling allusion is brilliant.

EO Wilson_face0

[EO Wilson at UM LSI Convocation 2004]

E.O. Wilson went further with his thoughts on consilience, the unity of knowledge.

“You will see at once why I believe that the Enlightenment thinkers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries got it mostly right the first time. The assumptions they made of a lawful material world, the intrinsic unity of knowledge, and the potential of indefinite human progress are the ones we still take most readily into our hearts, suffer without, and find maximally rewarding through intellectual advance. The greatest enterprise of the mind has always been and always will be the attempted linkage of the sciences and humanities. The ongoing fragmentation of knowledge and resulting chaos in philosophy are not reflections of the real world, but artifacts of scholarship. The propositions of the original Enlightenment are increasing favored by objective evidence, especially from the natural sciences.” [Wilson. Consilience. P. 8. 1998]

 

 

superheroes

Five.

Superheros. Somewhat to our cultural disadvantage our brains are hardwired to favor physical performance, entertainment, and appearances over intellectual leaps of greatness. We celebrate actors, athletes, politicians, musicians, and cartoons far more than great intellects. Worse, intellectuals in many periods of history were deliberately purged.

Coffey, Feynman, and Wilson are real superheroes of our time. Their ideas have been hugely consequential and they individually are role models of character and intellect. Another name to add to the superhero list is Tu Youyou (屠呦呦). My friend Marston Linehan first alerted me to her incredible story and discovery of artemisinin. It is also a story of how the better nature of humanity is subject to the dark side of our species and the nations we let govern us.

Born in Ningbo, Zhejiang, China in 1930 Tu Youyou attended Peking University Medical School, developed an interest in pharmacology, and after graduation in 1955 began research at the Academy of Traditional Chinese Medicine in Beijing. This was a tricky time to be a scientist in Maoist China. Ruling authorities favored peasants as the essential revolutionary class and in May 1966, the Cultural Revolution launched violent class struggle with persecution of the “bourgeois and revisionist” elements. The Nine Black Categories (landlords, rich farmers, anti-revolutionaries, malcontents, right-wingers, traitors, spies, presumed capitalists, and intellectuals) were cruelly relocated to work or forage in the countryside while neo-revolutionaries disestablished the national status quo.

In 1967 as North Vietnamese troops contended in jungle combat with US forces, chloroquine-resistant malaria was taking a heavy toll on both sides. Mao Zedong launched a secret drug discovery project, Project 523, that Tu Youyou joined while her husband, a metallurgical engineer, was banished to the countryside and their daughter was placed in a Beijing nursery. Screening traditional Chinese herbs for anti-plasmodial effects Tu found Artemisia (sweet wormwood or quinghao) mentioned in a text 1,600 years old, called Emergency Prescriptions Kept Up One’s Sleeve (in translation). She led a team that developed an artemisinin-based drug combination, publishing the work anonymously in 1977, the year after the revolution had largely wound down and only in 1981 personally presented the work to World Health Organization (WHO). Artemisinin regimens are listed in the WHO catalog of “Essential Medicines.” Tu won the 2011 Lasker-DeBakey Clinical Medical Research Award and in 2015 the Nobel Prize In Physiology or Medicine for this work.

Artemisia

[Above: Artemisia annua. Below: Tu Youyou with teacher Lou Zhicen in 1951]

Tu_Youyou_and_Lou_Zhicen_in_1951.TIF

 

 

Six.

It may be a human conceit to think of ourselves as the singular species on Earth capable of self-improvement. Considering the impact of Coffey, Feynman, Wilson, and Tu among other intellectual superheroes, imagination at their levels seems a rarity in the universe. Yet, any sentient creature wants to improve its comfort as well as its immediate and future prospects, for who is to say that a whale, a dolphin, a gorilla, or an elephant cannot somehow imagine a more comfortable, happier, or otherwise better tomorrow? In anticipation of another day, birds make nests, ants make tunnels, and bees make hives.

We humans have extraordinary powers of language, skill (with our cherished opposable thumbs), and imagination that provide unprecedented capacity to improve ourselves. Accordingly we easily imagine ourselves in better situations, whether physically, materially, intellectually, or morally, and as it is said, if we can imagine something we probably can create it.

Imagination of a better tomorrow is part of the drive for change as we consider our political future, although this can be risky. The intoxicating saying out with the old and in with the new has led to such things as the United States of America in 1776 or the Maastricht Treaty and European Union in 1992. Change, however, does not always produce happy alternatives, as evidenced by the Third Reich, the dissolution of Yugoslavia, the Arab Spring, or Venezuela’s Chavez era. Disestablishment does not predictably improve life for most people. The human construct, at its best and most creative, rests on a fragile establishment of geopolitical, economic, and environmental stability. The status quo that has been established may be imperfect, but is disestablished only at considerable risk.

Representational government and cosmopolitan society seem to be the best-case scenario for what might be called the human experiment wherein various factions of a diverse population come together to create a just social agenda and build a better tomorrow. The threat to this utopian scenario comes from factionalisms and tribalisms that insert narrow self -interests and litmus tests for cooperation into any consensus for agenda. We see this in the mid-east, in the European Zone, and in American presidential election cycles. Generally ignored or forgotten by competing factions and litmus-testers is the worst-case scenario of civil collapse. We experienced limited episodes of this in two World Wars, southeastern Asian catastrophes, central African genocides, Yugoslavia’s dissolution, and the collapse of Syria to name some instances. However sturdy we think human civilization may be, it is only a thin veneer in a random and dangerous universe. Civil implosions of one sort or another occur intermittently in complex societies, however we must become better at predicting them, circumventing them, and most importantly preventing their dissemination. Their catastrophic nature surpasses any sectarian interests or individual beliefs beyond the survival of civilization itself.

 

 

Moon June 17, 2016

Seven.

The Blue Moon, mentioned earlier, is a picturesque metaphor for an uncommon event. It’s actually not random, inasmuch as a blue moon is a second full moon in a given month (or other calendar period), so the next one can be accurately predicted. Since a full moon occurs about every 29.5 days, on the uncommon occasions it appears at the very beginning of a month, there is a chance of Blue Moon within that same month. The next Blue Moon we can expect will be January 31, 2018.

The song is a familiar one. It was originally “MGM song #225 Prayer (Oh Lord Make Me a Movie Star)” by Richard Rogers and Lorenz Hart in 1933. Other lyrics were applied, but none stuck until Hart wrote Blue Moon in 1935.

Nothing is visually different between blue moons or any other full moons. I took this picture (above) of a nearly full moon this June after some trial and error. A full moon is a beautiful thing and can’t help but give anyone a sense of the small individual human context. Friend and colleague Philip Ransley, now working mainly in Pakistan, spent much of his career aligning his visiting professorships around the world with lunar eclipses and lugging telescopes and cameras along with his pediatric urology slides. Receiving the Pediatric Urology Medal in 2001, barely a month after the tragic event of September 11, 2001, he spoke on lunar-solar rhythms, shadows, and their relationship to the human narrative: “… I would like to lead you into my other life, a life dominated by gravity and its sales rep, time. It has been brought home to us very forcibly how gravity rules our lives and how it governs everything that moves in the universe.” [Ransley. Chasing the moon’s shadow J. Urol. 168:1671, 2002]

PGR2

[PG Ransley c. 2005]

Ransley is currently working in Karachi, Pakistan at the Sindh Institute of Urology and Transplantation, the largest center of urology, nephrology, and renal transplantation in SE Asia. The pediatric urology unit at SIUT is named The Philip G. Ransley Department. [Sultan, S. Front. Pediatr. 2:88, 2014]

 

 

Eight.

Ruthless foragers. Earlier this summer a friend and colleague from Boston Children’s Hospital, David Diamond, brought me along for a bluefish excursion off of Cape Cod. These formidable eating machines travel up and down the Atlantic coast foraging for smaller fish. Like many other targets of human consumption, blue fish are not as plentiful as they once were, although they are hardly endangered today.

BluefishBiomass_Sept2015

[From Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission]

Just as we label ourselves Homo sapiens, the bluefish are Pomatomus saltatrix. Both, coincidentally, were named by Linnaeus, the botanist who got his start as a proto-urologist, treating venereal disease in mid 18th century Stockholm. His binomial classification system (Genus, species) is the basis of zoological conversation, although genomic reclassification will upend many assumptions. Also like us, the bluefish is the only extant species of its genus – Pomatomidae for the fish and Hominidae for us. Thus we are both either the end of a biologic family line or the beginning of something new. Our fellow hominids, such as Neanderthals, Denisovans, or Homo floresiensis didn’t last much beyond 30,000 years ago, although they left some of their DNA with us. It may be a long shot, but I hope H. sapiens can go another 30,000 years.

Bluefish

[Bove: ruthless foragers]

Teeth

Like us, Pomatomus saltatrix are ruthless foragers, eating voraciously well past the point of hunger. Their teeth are hard and sharp, reminding me of the piranha I caught on an unexpected visit to the Hato Piñero Jungle when attending a neurogenic bladder meeting in Venezuela some 20 years ago. Lest you think me a serious fisherman, I disclose there’ve not been many fish in between these two.

Pirhana

[one of 4 piranha geni (Pristobrycon, Pygocentrus, Pygopristis, & Serrasalmus that include over 60 species]

Linnaeus gave bluefish a scientific name in 1754, describing the scar-like line on the gill cover and feeding frenzy behavior (tomos for cut and poma for cover; saltatrix for jumper, as in somersault). I learned this from the book Blues, by author John Hersey (1914-1993), who was better known for his Pulitzer novel, A Bell for Adano (1944) or his other nonfiction book, Hiroshima (1946). [Below: Hersey]

Johnhersey

Michigan trivia: Hersey lettered in football at Yale where he was coached by UM alumnus Gerald Ford who was an assistant coach in football and boxing for several years before admission to Yale’s law school. Hersey became a journalist after college and graduate school in Cambridge. In the winter of 1945-46 while in Japan reporting for The New Yorker on the reconstruction after the war he met a Jesuit missionary who survived the Hiroshima bomb, and through him and other survivors put together an unforgettable narrative of the event. The bluefish story came later (1987).

 

 

Nine.

Today & tomorrow. Today is the start of the Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil where 500,000 visitors are expected, presumably well covered and armed with insect repellent due to fears of Zika, an arbovirus related to dengue, yellow fever, Japanese encephalitis, and West Nile viruses.
Tomorrow is a sobering anniversary. I was 11 days old, on August 6, 1945, when, at 8:15 AM, a burst of energy 600 meters above the Aioi Bridge in Hiroshima, Japan incinerated half the city’s population of 340,000 people. Don Nakayama wrote a compelling article on the surgeons of Hiroshima at Ground Zero, detailing individual stories of professional heroism. [D. Nakayama. Surgeons at Ground Zero of the Atomic Age. J. Surg. Ed. 71:444, 2014] We reflect on Hiroshima (and Nagasaki) not only to honor the fallen innocents and to re-learn the terrible consequences of armed conflict, but also to recognize how close we are to self-extermination. A new book by former Secretary of Defense, William Perry, makes this possibility very clear, showing how much closer we came to that brink during the Cuban Missile Crisis. [Perry. My Journey at the Nuclear Brink. Stanford University Press. 2016]

 

 

Ten.

Self-determination vs. self-termination. Life, and our species in particular, is far less common in the known universe than Blue Moons, it might be said, although those moons actually are mere artifacts of calendars and imagination. Art and medicine are distinguishing features of our species, Homo sapiens 1.0. The ancient cave dwelling illustrations of handprints on the walls and galloping horses, are evidence of our primeval need to express ourselves by making images. The need to care for each other (“medicine” is not quite the right word) is an extension from the fact that we are perhaps the only species that needs direct physical assistance to deliver our progeny. If our species is to have a future version (Homo sapiens 2.0) we will have to check ourselves pretty quickly before we terminate ourselves, through war and genocide, consumption of planetary resources, or degradation of the environment. While representational government, nationally and internationally, may be our best hope to prevent termination we will have to represent ourselves a lot better. That’s a fact whether here in Ann Arbor, in Washington DC, in China, Africa, Asia, or Europe.

Tribalism resonates with many deep human needs and it has gotten our species along this far, but H. sapiens 2.0 will have to make the jump from tribalist behavior to global cosmopolitanism. Sebastian Junger, a well-known war journalist, has written a compelling book that explores the human need for a sense of community that he describes by the title, Tribe. While we need better sense of community in complex cosmopolitan society, we cannot accept primitive tribalism, sectarianism, or nativism of exclusivity that exacerbate conflict among the “isms.” Tribalism cannot create an optimal or even a good human future whether the version is Brexist or ISIS, paths retrograde to human progress and the wellbeing of humanity in general.

Girl with pearl

[Girl with Pearl Earing, Vermeer, c. 1665, & viewers at Mauritius Museum, The Hague]

Reflections on art and medicine lead to cosmopolitan and humanitarian thought and behavior. Humanistic reflection, shared broadly, should track us more closely to a utopian scenario, rather than to catastrophe that is only a random contingency away.

Tulp

[Anatomy Lesson of Nicolaes Tulp. Rembrandt, 1632. Mauritius Museum, The Hague]

 

Thank you for reading our Matula Thoughts.

David A. Bloom
University of Michigan, Department of Urology, Ann Arbor

Matula Thoughts March 4, 2016

DAB What’s New March 4, 2016

 

The March of time, money, & art

3923 words

 

Mozart watch 2.05.26 PM

One.         Time flies, but sometimes we have to slow it down.  Today would have been March 5, but for a corrective leap year adjustment. This necessity is proof of the slightly imperfect alignment of humans to nature – we meter out our seasons and years with great reliance on lunar and solar cycles, yet our calendars and clocks can’t quite match heavenly reality. Nevertheless, since Robert Hooke’s anchor escape device, human ingenuity has been measuring time with increasing precision. Pocket watches, developed in the 16th century, were the most common personal timekeepers until military trench watches (pocket watches with lugs for a strap) became popular around WWI, proving more practical than a watch in a soldier’s pocket. The wristwatch quickly came into fashion. Today cellphones threaten wristwatches for top position in personal timekeeping, although wrists are contesting the matter with physical activity trackers that also monitor time, pulse, and even messaging alerts. Whether by wrist, phone, or clock most people are compelled to track time at home and at work. In the health care environment time measurement has come to sharply impact patient care and residency education due to intense attention on clinical throughput and duty hour regulations. [The pocket watch shown above is a rare Donald Mozart three-wheel mechanism watch made over 150 years ago.]

 

Two.          Time is money, it is often said. If I need furnace repairs this winter, a repairman will reacquaint me with that fact. This is also true for legal services, cabs, baby sitters, or employees in your business. Ultimately, because most of us are employees for someone or some organization, we each have a personal stake in the belief that time equates to money. Healthcare used to be somewhat different, being a professional service in which the service was valued as a parcel of work rather than a unit of time. A doctor’s visit, for example, was charged as the actual “visit” with the time factor accounted for indirectly. New knowledge and technology added complex services to the toolkit of health care and the relative value unit (RVU) joined the language of medicine. Urethral catheterization, for example, takes less time and expertise than radical cystectomy, a fact now accounted for in the charges or RVUs. The physician work RVU for catheterization (CPT 51702) is 0.5 (although after facility expenses and malpractice expenses are factored in the total RVU grows to 0.87 to 2.0 depending upon whether the work is done in a hospital or an office). For open radical cystectomy with urinary diversion (CPT 51590) the physician’s work RVU will be 36.33 and the total RVU including facility and malpractice expenses will be 55.66.  The assignment of an RVU number to robotic cystectomy is under discussion. Radical cystectomy is one of the most technically difficult and risky operative procedures, with significant mortality, morbidity, complex postoperative care, and the highest postoperative readmission rates. In terms of work (preoperative, operative, postoperative, and global exposure) and liability it is easily more than the “equivalent” of 36.33 urethral catheterizations, in my opinion as someone who has performed both procedures. If it is your urethra getting catheterized, of course you want skill, kindness, and attention to the process. Yet, to equate the effort of 36 catheterizations to a single radical cystectomy is like comparing 36 bicycle rides to flying a Boeing 787 or Airbus A380 full of passengers across the Pacific Ocean. Both take skill and both carry some risk, but the differences are enormous. [Data thanks to Malissa Eversole & Irene Gundle]

Just as all procedures are not equal, neither are all clinic visits the same, although less disparity pertains. One new patient visit may be fairly straightforward with discovery of a simple problem defined as ICD-10 code X and perhaps a distinct solution proposed in the form of CPT code Y. If such simplicity had pertained for all my patients and clinics over the years, life would have been easier although less interesting. Some clinic visits are especially challenging, taking deep concentration and probing examinations and conversations that are not always easy. Occasional clinic encounters are excruciating, with unwilling kids, angry parents, painful social circumstances, and no clear solutions. Yet even these complex occasions are gifts of a sort in that they test our mettle and make the other encounters, by contrast, satisfying and sweet.

Most of us understand the need to steward resources, standardize work as much as possible, and create efficiencies to meet payrolls and manage our mission at large. However, a sharp focus on clinical throughput, with standardized 15-minute encounters and checklists that must be obeyed, runs counter to our values, counter to patient satisfaction, and counter to the excellence we espouse. Still, our eyes stray to clocks on the walls, (although it is a mystery why they are so often wrong) or watches on our wrists, the latter being easier to consult unobtrusively than cell phones and are more accurate than those wall clocks.

 

Three.

$100   Ben Franklin wrote “time is money” in Advice to a Young Tradesman, written by an old one although the idea has a far older provenance. It is fitting that Ben is featured on our largest circulating currency denomination (since 1969 when larger bills were retired). The Franklin has become the international monetary standard and is worth more than its weight in gold if you figure that the bill weighs around a half a gram and with the price of gold at $1200 per ounce that comes to about $40 per gram or $20 for a Ben Franklin. The US Bureau of Engraving and Printing says that the average C-note remains in circulation about 7.5 years before replacement due to wear and tear. The new bill, with its anti-counterfeiting technology, costs about 12.5 cents to produce, compared to 7.8 cents for the older version (shown above) before 2013. Curiously, and I think dangerously, some people are calling for eliminating this “high” currency note, as humanity seems to be placing its faith in electronic monetary transactions. [Getting rid of big currency notes. NYT Editorial Feb. 22, 2016]

In health care, the concept that time is money applies across all nations and health care systems. In corporate U.S. health care, clinic visits are set in many places at 15 minutes of “face time” with physician, nurse practitioner, or PA. In the NHS of the United Kingdom 10 minutes is a common standard. In third world countries, any such face time might be a rare occasion unless you have cash in hand. Facilities and staff cost money and health care expenses need to be covered by some source, so it seems rational to measure and ration time as well as physical commodities. Facing off against such reality, however, is the nearly universal belief that health care is a natural human right and that its best delivered at the individual level by professions (and, now, teams of professionals).

Time value of money is a financial calculation that dates back to the early days of the School of Salamanca formed by Spanish and Portuguese theologians in northwestern Spain around the first half of the 16th century. (The old city of Salamanca in Castile and León is  a UNESCO World Heritage Site.)

Martin_Azpilicueta

Martín de Azpilcueta (1491-1586), pictured above, was an early member of this important school of thought. This Basque canonist and theologian was an innovator of monetarist theory and it was he who allegedly conceptualized the time value of money in the sense that the present value (PV) of a sum of money equals its future value (FV) given a specified rate of return (r) divided by 1 plus r. That is if the Department of Urology gives the University of Michigan Clinical Enterprise $1,000,000 for new capital projects and assumes a rate of return of 7% (the typical interest rate for a savings account in days not so long past) then the FV at 10 years will be $1,700,000, assuming the original sum and the yearly interest returns remain intact. In other words, a million dollars today if invested in those circumstances could be worth 1.7 million dollars in 10 years. Of course, this is not quite as good as that historic savings account at 7% where the interest was compounded annually, in which case the future value at 10 years would be a little over $1,967,000. That is the difference between an annuity and a savings account. Darwinian forces have propelled financial markets to increasingly creative and complex devices, such as credit default swaps that gained recent attention in the film The Big Short, or the more recent contingent convertible bond (CoCo) that exchanges risk for the ability to suspend payment, convert the bond into equity, or write it off totally.

In 1748 Franklin wrote: “Remember that Time is Money. He that can earn Ten Shillings a Day by his Labour, and goes abroad or sits idle one half of that Day, tho’ he spends but Sixpence during his Diversion or Idleness, ought not to reckon That the only Expence; he has really spent, or rather, thrown away Five Shillings besides.” [Courtesy Kate Woodford at Yale University, Papers of Benjamin Franklin Project]

This is the innate paradox of academic medicine: since clinical revenue sustains the enterprise, every part of the day diverted to education, research, and administration is costly, lacking proportionate revenue. Nevertheless, education, research, and their administration are essential to our mission. For a healthy academic clinical department these other parts of the mission consume a minimum of 20% of a clinician’s effort and the ability to support those efforts comes from endowment, institutional support, and the overachievement of clinical faculty in terms of clinical productivity.

 

Four.         As scarce as face-time may be for patients and the professionals who provide it, that time and attention within those moments are polluted by the mandatory processes of electronic health record systems, third party payer requirements, and demands of “meaningful use” documentation. I call your attention once again to the crayon drawing of a doctor’s visit by an 8-year old girl featured on a JAMA cover article in 2012 by Elizabeth Toll and contrast that to any of the many other artistic renderings of this ancient professional service from Renaissance painting to Normal Rockwell. Something seems to have changed. (Interestingly, Rockwell’s family doctor doesn’t seem to be wearing a watch.)

Family Doc

[Above: detail from The Family Doctor by Norman Rockwell 1947; Below: The cost of technology. JAMA 307: 2497, 2012. Elizabeth Toll. © Thomas C. Murphy, MD]

Cost of Tech copy

 

Five.          Time piece manufacturing came to Ann Arbor 150 years ago when Donald J. Mozart moved here just after the stockholders of the MoZart Watch Company in Providence, Rhode Island fired him as superintendent. Mozart’s three-wheel watch had proven unsuccessful and the new superintendent replaced Mozart’s design with a conventional movement and renamed the firm the New York Watch Company. Mozart improved his 3-wheel design in Ann Arbor, but was able to produce only about 30 movements before closing up operations four years later in 1870.

He sold the manufacturing equipment to the Rock Island Watch Company for $40,000 cash plus $25,000 in stock and gave away the existing watches to stockholders and friends. One of these was recently sold at auction in NY [Introductory illustration & below: Bonhams Auction 21971 12 June 2014 Lot #1128 A very rare gold filled open face ‘chronometer-lever escapement’ watch Signed Don J. Mozart Patent Dec. 24, 1868. US$ 20,000-25,000].

mozart_mvmt_small

Mozart was still living in Ann Arbor as of May 14, 1873 when he filed a patent from here, but died four years later in 1877 and was buried at Forest Hill Cemetery (as was Rensis Likert, discussed last month on these pages).

 

Six.           A noteworthy and thoughtful artist, Evelyn Brodzinski, when asked her definition of what constitutes the stuff we call “art” replied, “Art is anything that is choice.” This idea stuck with me and I often quote her at our speaker introductions during the annual Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine each July during the Art Fair. This phrase came to me again when I read Hugh Solomon’s retirement letter this past December. With his retirement, urological manpower loses one of its most excellent physicians and surgeons. Retirement was a difficult decision, Hugh noted, but his timing seemed right: “I have been lucky to have interfaced with so many wonderful people who have taught me the value and sanctity of life. Everyone has a story to tell if you are prepared to listen.”

Stories, however, are getting bypassed in modern healthcare. With the systematic tendency to measure service in terms of time and time in terms of money, today’s electronic health care record systems force stories into checklists. Listening to stories is harder than filling out checklists. While these tendencies chip away at our ancient profession we can fight the trend. When we make a choice to listen, as Hugh advocates, clinical medicine becomes an art.

 

Seven.                Art & medicine. In 1936 Sir Henry Wellcome’s will established the Wellcome Trust in London to advance medical research and the understanding of its history. If you visit that city the Wellcome Trust is a wonderful place to spend a morning or afternoon perusing its collections and exhibits. An article last year in JAMA by Jeremy Farrar, Director of the Wellcome Trust, discussed the role of this organization in the world today. [Farrar. Science, medicine, and society. A view from the Wellcome Trust. JAMA. 313:2315, 2015] The trust expends more than $1 billion dollars yearly in biomedical sciences and biotechnology “interrogating the fundamental processes of life in health and in sickness and using that knowledge to develop ways to promote well-being and to diagnose, treat, or prevent disease.”

Farrar makes the point that while science is essential and wonderful, its implementation in medicine and society is not guaranteed. He references Semmelweis and Snow, who in the mid-nineteenth century provided theory and supporting evidence that certain diseases were transmitted by dirty hands, yet conventional wisdom of the time rejected the idea. Farrar writes: “…their stories reveal that scientific evidence is not enough to improve medicine: social and cultural factors are vital as well… Because the Trust appreciates the importance of the history and social contexts of medicine, it also supports research across the medical humanities, social sciences, and bioethics, as well as funding for artists and educators to engage the public with research.”

We health care professionals revel in science. Scientific ways of thinking have brought us a verifiable understanding of life, health, and illness as well as new technologies to enhance health and mitigate disease. Yet as Farrar tells it, science is not enough. History, social contexts, and values must always frame the science, as well as inspire and deploy it. In the consilience of human knowledge, as EO Wilson explains, science is but one facet of the art of Homo sapiens.

 

Eight.        Chang Lecture on Art & Medicine. In 2007 our Department of Urology began an annual lecture in honor of the family of Dr. Cheng-Yang Chang, an esteemed Nesbit Alumnus who joined our faculty when Urology was a small section of the Surgery Department. Dr. Chang was our first faculty member to focus on pediatric urology. Coincidentally, his father was a highly acclaimed artist in China during its turbulent mid-Twentieth Century years. A number of his paintings are housed in the University of Michigan Art Museum where you can also visit the Shirley Chang Wing, named in honor of Dr. Chang’s late wife. The couple had two sons. Ted Chang, a University of Michigan and Nesbit alumnus like his dad, practices urology in Albany New York. Ted is a first class urologist and educator. Hamilton Chang, a fellow UM man, is an investment banker in Chicago, a leader in Michigan’s alumni organizations and a cornerstone of our urology fundraising efforts.

This year’s Chang Lecture will be given by Don Nakayama, a pediatric surgeon and expert on the Diego Rivera Murals you can find at the Detroit Institute of Art. The Surgery Panel on the upper left hand corner of the south wall has been described by art historians as “brain surgery,” but after personal investigation Don discovered that the art historians were not quite right, anatomically. The actual panel, in fact, depicts an orchiectomy, an operative procedure far more in tune with Rivera’s theme, as a committed socialist, of the emasculated worker. Don discussed this in a paper in The Pharos, [Summer 2014, p. 8].

South Wall

[Above: south wall. Below: surgery panel]

Surgery panel

If you plan to visit the Ann Arbor Art Fairs this July, consider setting aside an hour to join us at the Chang Lecture on Tuesday, July 21 at 5 PM in the UM Hospital Ford Auditorium. You can hear Dr. Nakayama, meet him at a reception after the talk, collect some CME credits if you are a physician, and have your parking ticket stamped. Not a bad deal, I submit.

 

Nine.     The art of humanity extends from the earliest moments of assisting childbirth, caring for lacerations, splinting fractures, counseling sufferers, and painting on cave walls, to today’s robotic surgery and technological entertainments such as the new Star Wars, if you accept the proposition that art is any deliberative human action or construct. This new iteration of Star Wars successfully expands the story of a distant galaxy and the force that binds it. A business school professor at Washington University St. Louis explored the narrative and proposed that an economic force binds the distant galaxy as well, thus brightening the dismal science. [http://arxiv.org/format/1511.09054v1]

The dark side of the dismal science was evident in another current film – The Big Short. I’d read the book by Michael Lewis, who showed in lucid detail how the housing and credit bubble collapse in 2008, known also as the subprime mortgage crisis, was predicted. This catastrophe quickly expanded into a major stall of the world economy, that is still under repair. The astonishing thing is that the prediction was not made by economists, the big banks, the big accounting firms, universities, Nobel Laureates, bond rating companies, regulatory agencies, or “the market” itself. The prediction was made by an oddball physician who analyzed publicly available data and discovered the “obvious” flaw in complex mortgage securities. Astonishingly, none of the experts was so smart and the sad, sad reality is that none of them was doing their job competently. This story begs the question: how can so many smart people be so dumb? It’s an astonishing story and a very cautionary tale of reliance on experts. If course we have to trust experts, but we also have to verify that trust constantly in real time, by listening to diverse and even oddball opinions and insisting upon honest broker regulation and competition.

The physician who figured this out was Michael Burry, a UCLA economics graduate, Vanderbilt MD, and Stanford neurology resident.  His main interest, however, was investing and even as a resident had acquired a reputation for success in value investing. He left residency to invest full-time and in November 2000 he started Scion Capital. As Lewis told the story, in the first full year of Scion when the S&P 500 fell 11. 88%, Scion’s fund was up 55%. This was no Bernie Madoff effect, the Scion success was real, verifiable, and durable. Value investing is based on the idea of buying an asset that appears underpriced according to an analysis of some sort. The analysis may recognize some fundamental flaw in the current price of the asset based on historical factors, operational data related to the company, information about its market and competitors, or expectations concerning the future. In some ways this is a complex extension of the thinking of Martín de Azpilcueta. Burry extended the idea by betting against the future value of money through an insurance mechanism called the credit default swap.

Burry was not looking for “a short” rather was actually seeking good long term bets. In 2005, however, his analysis of national lending practices in 2003 and 2004 indicated to him that a subprime mortgage bubble would collapse in 2007. He persuaded Goldman Sachs to sell him credit default swaps against certain subprime deals. The rest is history, as well as excellent cinematography.

Lamro

[Illustration: Lamro, on Wikipedia, Credit Default Swap. Burry is the blue box, Goldman Sachs is the black box. The par value of the asset was its high value at the time of the credit default deal.]

 

Ten.       March, now that we are a few days into it, has its own stories. March 1 is the meteorological beginning of spring, although that may not be so apparent here in Ann Arbor. March 20/21 is the astronomical beginning of spring in the Northern Hemisphere or autumn in the Southern. The month is named for the Roman God of War, Mars, who was also the guardian of agriculture. This was an odd conjunction since it is not immediately apparent that the pursuits of war and of agriculture are similar. On the other hand, if you believe that the best defense is a strong offense, the idea makes some sense and in Roman times the month Martius marked a new season of farming and military campaigns. In addition to competence on the land and in battle, legend also ascribed to Mars some competence in the urological sense, as his relationship with the Vestal Virgin, Rhea Silvia, produced twin boys, Romulus and Remus, the mythical founders of the city of Rome. Even beyond the reproductive outcome, Mars was generally viewed as a paragon of virility, with no issues of low testosterone. Martius was the start of the Roman yearly calendar until as late as 153 BC. Russia held on to this start date to the end of the 15th century, and Great Britain and its colonies (even us in America) used March 25 as the beginning of the calendar year until 1752 when the Gregorian calendar was adopted. March is American Red Cross Month.

March 13 marks the shift to Daylight Savings Time. Ben Franklin has been claimed as originator of daylight savings time, but in fact the solid proposal came from George Vernon Hudson who died 70 years ago (5 April 1946). Born in London he moved to New Zealand with his father and became a respected amateur entomologist and astronomer. His daytime job in Wellington as post office clerk gave him time after work to study and collect insects. It was said that this was the impetus for his idea to maximize daylight in winter times. In 1895 he gave a paper at the Wellington Philosophical Society proposing a 2-hour daylight savings time shift. Hudson was a member of the 1907 Sub-Antarctic Islands Scientific Expedition. The daylight savings idea was slow to catch on and New Zealand’s Summertime Act wasn’t passed until 1927.

Hudson-RSNZ Willett

[Left: Hudson in 1907 on expedition. National Library of New Zealand. Right: Willett in 1909, J. Benjamin Stone Collection, Birmingham Central Library.]

Daylight savings occurred later to another Briton, home builder William Willett (1856-1915). Riding his horse one summer morning he observed many household’s blinds still drawn, indicating the inhabitants were still asleep and missing much of the day. He began to advocate for an official way to extend daylight and the British Summer Time became law in 1916, although Willett died just before it went into effect. (Trivia: Willett’s great-great-grandson is Chris Martin of the band Coldplay.) Today, daylight savings time methods are utilized throughout much of the world.

DaylightSaving-World-Subdivisions

[Wikipedia. Blue – DST used, Orange – formerly used, Red – never used]

If March came in like a lion we hope it exits sheepishly after a bit of collegiate athletic madness. We also will be having a departmental retreat at the end of the month. Before closing out this message, let me return briefly to Ben Franklin, printer, inventor, author, postmaster, diplomat, and urethral catheter expert. In 1752 he designed a flexible silver catheter for his brother John who was suffering from bladder calculi and it is likely that, living to age 84, Ben used it himself.

 

Thanks for reading What’s New and Matula Thoughts.

David A. Bloom, University of Michigan, Department of Urology

Matula Thoughts August 7, 2015

Fair weather, formicidae, fables, and funambulism

3415 words

 

 1.   Brehm

August in Ann Arbor with long days of sunlight, warm breezes, and summer clothing is especially sweet by contrast to our winter days. Thanks to generous rains filling our rivers and refreshing the ground water Ann Arbor’s August is immersed in green. [Above: view from the roof of the Brehm Tower of Kellogg Eye Center. Below: kayaks by the Huron]

Kayaks

Birds, cicadas, tree frogs, and lightning bugs create accidental symphonies of sound and light in my neighborhood. Summertime in the Northern Hemisphere brings a measure of balance, relaxation, and sunny public spaces. Vacation allows time to recharge and summer in Ann Arbor is pretty much as good as it gets for doing that.

Golf

[Michigan Stadium from Ann Arbor Golf Outing]

August in parts of Europe is almost entirely set aside as vacation time for many workers, whereas in North America “work-life balance” is stricter with a week or two of vacation, plus the long weekends of Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and Labor Day. These thoughts remind me of an animated cartoon that I loved as a kid called the Grasshopper and the Ants, an ancient fable of Aesop recast by a young Walt Disney in 1934 in The Silly Symphony (you can find it on YouTube – it runs 8 minutes).

220px-The_Grasshopper_and_the_Ants

The gist of the story was that a grasshopper had fun and played all summer, while the neighboring ants aligned industriously to work throughout the sunny days storing up food and preparing for winter. When winter came, the cold and hungry grasshopper realized his sorry situation and came begging to the ants for food and shelter. According to Disney’s version, after a momentary reprimand the ants kindly took in the pitiful grasshopper who then entertained them with his fiddle over the winter. In the Aesopian corpus this story is The Cicada and the Ant (classified as Perry 373). The simplistic moral to the story is a useful lesson for children, but humans, unlike ants, need vacations; motivations in the human sphere differ from those in ant land.

 

2.   Screen shot 2015-07-18 at 9.09.21 AM

[EOW by DAB 2002]  

Ants and humans, E.O. Wilson teaches us, are among the very rare eusocial species on Earth. These colonial animals live in multi-generational groups where most individuals cooperate to advance the public good and to perpetuate the species into the next generation. In effect, their colonies are superorganisms that transcend  individual biologic lives and create civilizations turned over to successive generations. The meaning of individual lives, then, is simply to be found in their contribution to their tomorrow and the tomorrows of their successors. Ants accomplish this work by communicating via pheromones, chemical signals that Wilson and his collaborators elucidated. Pheromones, added to genetic and epigenetic capabilities, vastly enhance the ability of eusocial organisms to deal with and transmit information. The human luck of spoken and written language allows us to process information (sensory, narrative, and numeric), work cooperatively, and create new information that we deploy and pass along to successive generations. The cultural and scientific ways of thinking that emerged from language have produced creativity that has changed the Earth. Whereas internal motivation and environmental pressures inspire personal creativity, it is largely personal and political freedom that allows its dissemination, thereby expanding civilization intellectually and materially.

Tai Che 2

It is a beautiful thing to see people acting in harmonious synchrony. This picture I took outside the de Young Museum in San Francisco this spring shows a display of T’ai chi (太極拳), a Chinese martial art practiced for its health effects, focusing the mind for mental calm and clarity. No pheromones or visible rewards motivate this alignment, the motivation is internal. T’ai chi is lovely to watch, the harmony and synchrony registering pleasurably in the hardwiring of our brains. This is the stuff of art, the deliberate work of other people that we admire and that sometimes astonishes us. You can find beauty in a myriad of other aligned performances. The Stanley Cup playoffs are one example of exquisite and harmonious alignment of teams. Surgical procedures may fall into this realm; it’s interesting that in Great Britain the operating room is referred to as the surgical theatre. When synchrony is harshly enforced, however, as in the dark vision of industrialism depicted by the Diego Rivera murals in Detroit or the failed experiments of communism, alignment is not so pretty. 

 

3.  Diego Rivera

The cartoonish stereotype of disheartened industrial assembly line workers in the Rivera murals has been reinforced by generations of business schools and accounting management ideology. The belief was that managers should determine work-flow methodology and set production targets as if assembly lines were machines to be sped up or slowed down as managers deemed necessary. This is the essence of accounting-based management. The Toyota Process System, now embraced world-wide by forward-looking businesses as lean process methodology, turns this paradigm around, having shown that where workers are empowered to think, innovate, and take pride in their work, better products, greater efficiency, and customer satisfaction will result. Ironically, Toyota’s innovation was initiated over 60 years ago when the company’s founder visited Ford’s massive River Rouge plant just as Japan was rebuilding its industrial base after WWII. Where the American managers saw one thing in the Ford assembly line, the Japanese leaders saw something completely different. The following quote explaining “What Toyota saw at the Rouge” comes from an excellent book called Profit Beyond Measure, by H. Thomas Johnson and Anders Bröms: “When Eiji Toyoda told Philip Caldwell that Toyota had discovered the secret to success at the Rouge, his comment implied that what Toyota had perceived about operations at the Rouge was very different than what Caldwell and his Ford colleagues or their counterparts in the other Big Three auto companies had seen. For one thing, it seems that Toyota people did not view low cost at the Rouge in terms of its scale, its throughput, or its managers’ effort to impose external targets for speed and cost on workers in the plant. Instead, they seemed to perceive a holistic pattern permeating every minute particular of the system. On one level, the pattern that caught Toyota’s attention was the overall continuous flow of work in the Rouge as a whole. But at a much deeper level, they observed that work flowed continuously through each part of the system – literally through each individual work station – at the same rate that finished units flowed off the line.” (Caldwell was President of Ford at the time.) Toyoda saw an organic self-learning system in the assembly line, where expertise at work stations is continuously harvested by motivated workers to improve work flow and product. Jeanne Kin and Jack Billi floated this book to my attention a few years ago and it continues to strongly impact my view of organizational systems.

 

4.   Just as modern industry is embracing the concepts of Toyota Lean Processes, health care systems in their frenzy to cut costs while complying with increasingly onerous regulation are oddly embracing the failed experiments of management accounting that impose cost and throughput targets on health care providers. Data (numeric information) should inform decisions whenever possible, but it cannot be the sole driver of key operational choices. All data must be viewed as suspect for, after all, the numeric information we produce for ourselves is merely an artifact of human invention: numbers and their manipulation may or may not reflect reality accurately. Intense focus on data tends to obliterate stories (narrative information). Truth is elusive and while stories can be just as false or misleading as data can be wrong or misinterpreted, when stories resonate with truth, prove to be genuine, or otherwise offer value they get repeated and stick around. While the accounting mentality examines data for consistency and at its best extracts useful stories from data, the scientific mentality examines and hypothesizes stories and then seeks data to support the story and create a better one. Accounting is a matter of numbers, but science is ultimately a matter of stories. The human brain is hard-wired to relate to meaningful stories, and those ancient ones that endure, such as The Iliad, The Odyssey, and the Bible, endure because they give artful evidence of larger truths, exemplary behavior, or experiences that we keep repeating. Some stories are extremely succinct, but have enough truth that we keep repeating them like: Pythagoras’s story that for a right-sided triangle the area of the square on the side opposite the right angle equals the sum of the areas of the squares of the other two sides. Another durable story is that the area within a circle is its radius squared times an irrational number called pi.One might argue that by its very substance this story is irrational, but it sure seems to have held up through time. A newer story tells of the ultimate connection of light, matter, and energy, that is, is e=mc2. These stories seem to be true and have found their Darwinian niche in the human narrative.

 

5.   We are indoctrinated by stories since childhood. Fables, short stories with moral lessons, typically feature animals with human qualities. Aesop, supposedly a slave in ancient Greece (620-560 BC) a generation after Pythagoras and a century prior to Hippocrates, is the fabulist best known in the Western world. It is an astonishing demonstration of Darwinian durability that his fables have been repeated to children in most languages for well over 2500 years. Ben Perry, the 20th century authority on Aesop, indexed and edited Aesop’s stories for the Loeb Classical Library in 1952. One of the half dozen fables dealing with health care is The Old Woman and the Thieving Physician. This may have been added to the Aesop corpus rather than an original of the actual fabulist. The tale involves an elderly lady with sore eyes who asks a physician to cure her from anticipated blindness, but her deal was that payment had to await cure. The doctor made repeated house calls to apply salves and with each visit stole anything he could take away from the house. Once the cure was competed the woman refused payment saying that her sight seemed to be worse than ever since she now couldn’t see or find any of her household property. This characterization of the dishonest physician was number 57 of the Perry Index.

 

6.   Ben Perry was born in 1852 in Fayette Ohio and received his B.A. in 1915 from the University of Michigan and a Ph.D from Princeton in 1919. His early academic posts took him to Urbana Ohio University, Dartmouth, Western Reserve, and then, for the bulk of his career from 1924-1960 at the University of Illinois. He returned to Michigan as visiting professor in 1967 and died back in Urbana, Illinois in 1968. Perry concentrated his work in two minor genres, the fable and the ancient novel. The Perry Index includes all fables related to, ascribed to, or connected to Aesop and goes from #1 The Eagle and the Fox to #584The River-fish and the Sea-fish.  In addition, the Extended Perry Index goes from #585 Sick Lion, Fox and Bear to #725 Fish from Frying Pan into Coals. Curiously Aesop offered tales of all sorts of creatures and many occupations, but only the occasional doctor’s story in addition to the ophthalmologic case: #7 Cat as Physician and the Hens,  #114 The Physician at the Funeral, # 170 Physician and Sick Man,  #187 The Wolf as Physician, or #289 The Frog Physician, and #317The Unskilled Physician. Some of these were matters of impersonations while others like #57 above were character studies of the profession. Perry #427 was the classic Fox and Hedgehog story, resurrected for our time by Isaiah Berlin.

 

7.   The Art Fair is a special time in Ann Arbor. I lived here for about 10 years before I ever walked around in it – summertime is busy for those who take care of children, pediatric urologists included. In 1997 we started the John Duckett Lecture in Pediatric Urology, in honor of a colleague and a friend of Michigan Urology who had passed away that year. The idea was that this would take place on the Friday morning of the Art Fair, and we would close up most of our clinical and research work for the day. Our staff would simultaneously have Staff Education Day in the morning and the afternoon free for the Art Fair or whatever, as their annual birthday present. Over the years we have expanded the intellectual part of our Art Fair week with the Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine Chang on the Thursday and usually added a Lapides Lecture to the Friday session. This year we asked one person, Pierre Mouriquand from Lyon France, to do both the Chang and Duckett Lectures. In effect this was asking Pierre to walk a tightrope between two intellectual towers, and he navigated the line beautifully.  As a great pediatric urologist and a painter of substance and daily practice, he is well qualified on both fronts. The Chang Lecture consisted of Pierre’s story Slowly down the Rhône: the River and its Artists. He produced a magnificent talk bringing together not only art and medicine, but also geography.

Screen Shot 2015-07-20 at 7.40.50 AM

His Duckett Lecture was Understanding the Growth of the Genital Tubercle: Why it is relevant for the Hypospadiologist.  Here he showed his mastery of the field with a brilliant update on embryology and challenging thoughts on surgical reconstruction of difficult dysfunctional anatomy. He fielded a series of case presentations from residents and later in the day attended our Disorders of Sex Development (DSD) team meeting and lunch, where he challenged the modern terminology and presented some videos that showed new concepts in reconstruction. In the evening at dinner our residents and the pediatric urology team got to know Pierre and his wife Jessica mixing technical talk, health systems discussions, and seeing how a couple successfully navigates the challenging world of life, family, and academic medicine. 

Pierre & Jessica

Regarding this first academic event of the new season of residency training (also called Graduate Medical Education or GME) I need to invoke a sports metaphor and say that “Pierre hit it out of the park.” Events like these fulfill the essential duty of the university: sharpening inquisitiveness, disseminating ideas, widening cosmopolitanism, and educating our successors.

 

8.   Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine 2016. Our speaker next year will be Don Nakayama, former chair of the Surgery Department at West Virginia. He wrote an interesting article in Pharos last year on the Diego Rivera murals at the Detroit Institute of Arts. [The Pharos 77: 8, 2014] Perceptively, he recognized that the so-called Surgery Panel on the South Wall was not a depiction of “brain surgery” as art historians have claimed, but rather an illustration of an orchiectomy, a procedure much more attuned to Rivera’s view of the Rouge Plant workers. It is a great testimony to the vision of Edsel Ford to have brought Rivera, arguably the world’s best muralist of the time and an ardent communist, to Detroit to produce the work in 1932. Things didn’t go so well later in New York City when Rivera tried to repeat the experiment with the Rockefellers, but that’s another story.

Orch

[Lower right mural on the South Wall: the orchiectomy]

Caleb Nelson will be doing the Duckett Lecture and Bart Grossman will be doing the Lapides Lecture next year for an all-Nesbit Line up on that Friday of the 2016 Art Fair.

 

9.   Little Red Hen  Disney’s Silly Symphonies also included The Wise Little Hen, a version of a Russian folk tale more popularly known as The Little Red Hen. The nugget of the story was that the hen finds a grain of wheat and asks the other animals on the farm to help plant, grow, and harvest it. None chose to help, but after she harvests the wheat she asks again for help threshing, milling, and baking, but none step forward. After the bread is done, she asks who should help eat it – and of course everybody volunteers. The hen, however, says sorry “if any would not work, neither should he eat.” (The Wise Little Hen  included the debut of Donald Duck.) President Ronald Reagan referred to this story in 1976, citing a politicized version  in which the farmer chastised the hen for being unfair. After the hen was forced to share her bread, she lost the incentive to work and the entire barnyard suffered. This twist on the story made it a cautionary tale slamming the welfare state. While the story teaches children the importance of doing their part in terms of the daily work of the community it lacks the complexity of reality. Modern society is far more complicated than a barnyard and the line between personal responsibility and public beneficence (i.e. government) is tricky to arbitrate. Furthermore, many in society experience tragic bad luck beyond their control or are unable to assume personal responsibility. Reagan’s farmer had the un-antlike characteristic of compassion, a human quality that must have long-preceded even our biblical days. A society has to nurture personal freedom, creativity, and individual responsibility if it is to be successful, but without kindness and compassion a civilization is not a human one. After all, when Disney anthropomorphized his ants he gave them not just language, but also compassion.

Where do we draw the lines regarding personal freedom and such things as immunization mandates, smoking, drug use, obesity, and dangerous behavior? Should motorcyclists have to wear helmets? How do we provide health care to the indigent and incapable? How do we create health care equality and affordability? These questions ultimately get arbitrated in the political arenas regionally and nationally, generation after generation. Our nation walks on a tightrope between the cartoonish ideologies of the welfare state and what some might call individualism, capturing the beliefs of libertarianism, laissez-faire capitalism, and ethical egoism. Obviously neither the welfare state nor any “ism” has it right – the best path for a just, creative, and cosmopolitan civilization is a path in between the cartoons. The bad news of today (and maybe this is the bad news for every human era) is that cartoonish people find their ways to leadership and compel the rest of us along irrational paths that threaten  the future we want to turn over to our next generation. All citizens need to step up their understanding of the issues of public policy and health care as well as involving themselves in its regional and national discussions. We can no longer let politicians, accountants, and pundits alone shape the critical decisions.

 

10.  Funambulism. On this day, August 7, in 1974 a 24-year old Frenchman named Philippe Petit walked across a high wire he had rigged between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. He actually crossed the wire 8 times, performing for 45 minutes to the amazement of on-lookers in the towers. He must have looked like an  ant to those on the ground, and vice versa. Petit’s funambulism represents a perfection of self-alignment in terms of balance that few can achieve, yet it is also an astonishing display of self-confidence, clandestine preparation, and admirable civil-disobedience. Curiously funambulism defines tightrope walking and a show of mental agility interchangeably. Few can deny that serious tightrope walking is as much a matter of mental as physical agility and you have to admire the internal drive that motivated Petit to accomplish this heroic feat. That was art.

Pettit

Postscript: With the start of August we saw the retirement of Jack Cichon, our departmental administrator, and Malissa Eversole is now steadily in place on the job. Jack managed the business and operational affairs of Michigan Urology for 20 years with great loyalty, integrity, and (at some challenging times) extraordinary courage under pressure. He becomes an honorary member of the Nesbit Society and we hope to continue to see him in the course of our departmental events, noting his broadened smile of relief from the administrative pressures of the University of Michigan Medical School and Health System that he served so admirably.   

Cichon 2015

Thanks for spending time with What’s New and Matula Thoughts.

David A. Bloom, MD

Department of Urology, University of Michigan Medical School

Ann Arbor

 

Matula Thoughts July 3, 2015

 

Matula Thoughts July 3, 2015

Independence, PGY1s, peonies, & art.

3673 words

 

©Photo. R.M.N. / R.-G. OjŽda

©Photo. R.M.N. / R.-G. OjŽda

Wash Monument

1.     It’s July and peasants farm and shear sheep outside the protective walls of a castle in the beautiful panel of the renowned 15th century illustrated manuscript, Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. Life was safer within the castle walls than outside them. The authority in charge of the castle and grounds was a nobleman governing locally on behalf of a distant ruler and the governance was absolute. Many Julys have come and gone since the Duke of Berry (600 Julys since 1415) and government has become more representative throughout much of today’s world for villagers, city folk, and the rest of us who perform the daily work of civilization. The relationship between the authority we call government and “the people” has evolved based on principles extending back to the Magna Carta 800 years ago (June 15, 1215) and even before.

Magna Carta

[Magna Carta Brit. Lib. 4000 or so words in Latin on sheepskin]

The principles of authority for the United States of America are seated in the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4, 1776. If you’ve not read the book published last year by Danielle Allen, Our Declaration, you should do so this summer. It is an amazing study and quite readable. As discussed previously on these pages of What’s New and Matula Thoughts, Our Declaration will give you, among many other things, a more sophisticated sense of the idea of equality than you likely now have.

declaration-of-independence

[1337 well-crafted words]

When the three Limbourg brothers of Nijmegen produced the “very richly decorated book of hours” for the Duke of Berry, the Duke probably felt little sense of equality with his workers. In some parts of today’s world things remain little different than in the days of the Très Riches Heures when dukes and kings had total unchecked authority over their subjects. Such nations are rarely successful in terms of aggregate innovation, intellectual contribution, education, environmental stewardship, industrial production, or social justice. Conversely, most modern nations today enjoy a shared belief that all people are equal before the law. In these places where the ideas of representative government, equality, personal liberty, and cosmopolitanism take hold, the potential of the human factor is unleashed and creativity emerges on a large scale. History shows that, when people have freedom to achieve their potentials, individual happiness and general human progress are served far better than when the state or crown decides what’s best for its people. Tomorrow we celebrate that particular success of government by the people, for the people, and of the people in our nation. Yet, these aspirational ideals remain under challenge not only by human imperfections in their implementation, but also by today’s iterations of tribalism, despotism, human subjugation, sectarianism, extremism, and war. The divergent symbolism of a castle and protective walls on one hand, and our iconic monument of an open society is striking.

 

2.     With July comes a new class of interns (PGY1s, residents) and fellows. I’ve enjoyed being a part of this cycle for many years. Our careers flip by in the blink of an eye and I myself was at that early stage of medical education not so long ago. Although relatively clueless back then, I had the ambition of becoming a credible children’s surgeon of one sort or another. With influences like Judah Folkman, Rick Fonkalsrud, Bill Longmire, Don Skinner, Will Goodwin, Joe Kaufman, and Rick Ehrlich, I was inspired to push ahead toward that ambition, but felt a long way from my goal and quite distant from a place in the “establishment” of pediatric surgery and urology. A year in London following the footsteps of David Innes Williams gained me a slight bit of early credibility in addition to lifelong friends in urology – Robert and Anita Morgan, John Fitzpatrick, and Christopher Woodhouse. A couple in the Royal Shakespeare Company, Mike Williams and his wife Judi, further broadened my perspective on the world, and I often think back to Mike’s description of their work as that of “travelling players.” This metaphor applies to us in academic medicine – we are travelling salesmen indeed, going here and there to sell our ideas, observations, clinical experiences, and research findings at national meetings and during visiting professorships. On my return from London I experienced an incomparable month with Hardy Hendren in Boston, filling a notebook equivalent to the size as that from 11 months in London. During that stay I further was schooled in gracious hospitality by Mike and Connie Mitchell and John and Fiona Heaney. Wonderful reminiscences and the start of deep friendships. Our residents and fellows are now assembling their own stories of educational experiences, no doubt as rich and meaningful to them.

 

3.     Most people at certain times of their lives entertain the nagging question of the meaning of life. The question comes up in good times or bad, in the midst of crises, or even randomly. It is too big a question to answer in a general sense and certainly beyond the reach of these small essays. Maybe it’s a silly question, a human conceit, for in the grand scheme of things it could be argued that the meaning of geology, for example, is of no less significance as a question. In the specific personal sense many people find life’s greatest meaning lies in the ways they individually make their lives useful to others. In this sense, then, the meaning of life is simply its public relevance. This might well be Darwin’s ultimate revelation: a life’s meaning is found in its specific relevance today and in its more general relevance to the tomorrow of future generations. The desire to do things for other people is deeply established in our genes and has been reinforced by millennia of human culture. Not only do we seek to have meaning individually to others and to our society, but we are compelled to construct a world where our generation’s children can create their own meaningful lives. It probably seemed easier for the kings, queens, and noblemen in the days of the Duke de Berry. They were born into a world where their meaning (in terms of the faulty surrogate of their self-importance) was pre-ordained, but that world didn’t offer much of a chance for anyone else, hardly a sustainable Darwinian scenario. Self-importance is a biologic necessity, but its socially-acceptable expressions occur across a spectrum with Mother Teresas on one end and Donald Trumps at the other.   Off that spectrum, deranged and delusional self-importance leads to shootings, bombings, and beheadings – public slaughterings designed to induce terror and 15 minutes of “fame” that in fact become horrendous perpetual shame for the perp. Random tragedy still stalks us and may never disappear, but our responses as a society are sometimes great and inspiring, as we witnessed in Charleston SC one week ago today.

AME Church

[Emanuel AME Church, Calhoun St. Charleston SC. June 30, 2015. DAB]

In spite of the personal good fortune of many of us today, our gift of freedom has not been making the world a better place uniformly. One bit of evidence that it’s not: the UN released figures last month showing that 60 million people, half of them children, are fleeing chaotic lands looking for safety, food, and asylum. This is a staggering and unprecedented number. It is mentally incomprehensible. Another bit of evidence: Pope Francis’s recent encyclical Laudato Si, warns that our failure of planetary stewardship has left even larger numbers of mankind living in piles of filth and at risk from effects of deleterious climate change. An article about this 192-page document said: “Pope Francis unmasks himself not only as a very green pontiff, but also as a total policy wonk.” [Faiola, Boorstein, Mooney. National Post (Toronto) June 19, 2015. A11]

 

4.     Last season’s interns are now seasoned house officers (PGY2s). They have performed admirably and are well on their way to becoming excellent urologists. Just as we will make them better, they will make us better. We look forward to their full-bore immersion in urology starting now.

PGY1s 2014 copy

[PGY2s:Ted Lee, Ella Doerge, Parth Shah, Zach Koloff]

Our new interns (PGY1s), mentioned here last month, have just come on board. When I started in that same position at UCLA on July 1, 1971, I stepped right into the game of hospital medicine, taking orders from the higher level residents, watching them and the attendings at work, and anxiously taking call, hopeful that a disaster wouldn’t blow up around me. The world has changed and now we give the new medical school graduates days of preparation for the complex systems of healthcare, the explicit and implicit expectations of their daily work, the hierarchy of graduate medical education, and the local idiosyncrasies of the University of Michigan (e.g. when we put on gowns and gloves in the OR the left hand is always gloved first). Only after a deliberate program of “in-boarding” do our new interns step into the real-time practice of clinical medicine. We hope the new members of our urology family will embrace our sense of mission and values. We hope they will pick up the professionalism of our faculty, staff, and their senior residents and fellows. We hope they will learn the histories of our department and institution and become inspired by those stories. We hope they will learn their craft and become superior in providing our essential deliverable: kind and excellent patient centered care, thoroughly integrated with innovation and education at all levels. The fact is, looking at our finishing chief residents and fellows this year, Michigan urology trainees are superior and we expect them to get even better throughout their careers.

 

5.     While governments, in many nations, have become more representative and recognize that they exist for the people they represent, one unintended, but inevitable consequence is that they become self-righteous. Authority corrupts itself. This happens today no less than it did for any of the Dukes of Berry and their counterparts over the past millennia. We should be wary that self-righteousness of large organizations is a feature of all self-organizing systems. This propensity is seen in the reordering of our haphazard health care system, for example in the ill-conceived HITECH Act that forced the jettisoning of perfectly good electronic medical record systems in favor of a few clunky propriety systems that satisfied arcane details of the law including the mandated “meaningful use.” We also see this in the overwrought “Time-Outs” in the operating rooms that default individual responsibility to a team check-list. (As a pilot in training, when I was a resident, the checklist was the responsibility of the pilot and co-pilot, not a formulaic team exercise of everyone on the airfield.) I thoroughly believe that health care, surgery most especially, is a team activity and that rigid hierarchy is not conducive to a highly performing team. However, rote adherence to a formulaic “Time-Out” for all operative procedures is equally counterproductive. We hope that the next generation of physicians, especially the urologists we educate, will not be taken in by regulatory self-righteousness of third party payers, national professional boards, state boards, and hospital systems so as to believe that the practice of medicine is a checklist, patients are clients, that a patient’s story is a dot phrase or series of templates, and that time-outs do not obviate Murphy’s rule. No check-list or algorithm can substitute for individual sensibility (and anxiety) of the operating surgeon. The formulaic and monitored checklist ritual, in fact, defuses the sensibility. Finally we pray that the ancient Hippocratic idea of listening to and looking at the patient (and the patient’s family) is where medical practice must begin and end – not with the computer and electronic health care record.

 

6.     Visiting professors challenge us with new ideas and perspectives. They offer our residents and fellows a more cosmopolitan view of the world of urology, and visitors take away strong impressions of the Michigan Urology Family. The same happens when we visit other institutions and see how their residents learn. I was recently at the University of Toronto as Bob Jeffs visiting professor at the time for their fellowship graduation and was duly inspired by the faculty, residents, fellows, nurses, and systems that Marty Koyle and his team have developed at Sick Kids’ Hospital. They have some great innovations that might fit us well. The children’s hospital is vibrant, welcoming, and user friendly.

Sick Kids fellows

[At Toronto Sick Kids: Kakan Odeh, Keith Lawson, Frank Penna, Paul Bowlin, DAB, Marty Koyle, Joanna Dos Santos]

Sick Kids

[Toronto Sick Kids Atrium & lobby from urology & surgery floor]

In Ann Arbor we recently hosted visiting professor Tim O’Brien from Guy’s Hospital in London and he gave a wonderful talk on his work ranging from bladder cancer to retroperitoneal fibrosis. He explained that he has given up doing clinical trials due to the overbearing regulatory paperwork and processes involved in setting them up and implementing them in Great Britain. Tim used a phrase that “the many were controlling the few” in the quagmire of clinical trial regulation. This is the opposite of the Duke de Berry’s situation where the few controlled the many and it begs the question: What is sovereign in a society and what is the source of its laws? It seems right that the people in a society should ultimately be sovereign and that the source of its laws should derive from cosmopolitan human reason and experience. Rules, however, should not be so oppressive as to impede the function and flourishing of the workers. A sheep cannot be sheared well and efficiently by a committee, nor can a bus be driven by a team representing all the diverse interests of the stakeholders of the passengers, neighborhoods of passage, and owners of the bus. Society has to trust its workers to a great extent, knowing that some mistakes will be made and accidents will happen, although minimized by means of education, training, sensible rules, and systems. It seems that clinical trials, and perhaps much of modern medicine driven by HITECH mandates, ICD-10, and other regulatory burdens is not flourishing. Anyway, Tim gave us a terrific visit and showed that we share many regulatory impediments with the U.K.

Tim O'Brien

[David Miller, Tim O’Brien, Kurshid Ghani at Grand Rounds in Sheldon Auditorium]

 

 

7.     Chiefs dinner Chief residents’ dinner. Our residents go from newly minted graduates of medical school to skilled genitourinary surgeons and excellent clinicians in a matter of 5 or so years. In that time we, as faculty, work with them initially as teachers, but increasingly as colleagues during the progression of their training. It is said that it takes around 10,000 hours of practice to become proficient at chess, golf, piloting, piano, or other specific tasks. The evolution of graduate medical education in urology to a 5-year program points to a gestational period of around 20,000 hours to achieve competency as a genitourinary surgeon. Our expectation at Michigan, however, goes beyond mere competency. We have a strong track record of producing not just urologists but the leaders and the best in urology, and this year I believe we did it again. Our yearly graduation dinner (pictured above) for the completing residents and fellows is a signature event in our calendar. We held it at the University of Michigan Art Museum for the first time this year. As intently as we work with our residents throughout the years of their training, the narratives of their lives, as told so excellently this year by their fourth year colleagues, Amy Li, Miriam Hadj-Moussa, and Rebekah Beach offered entirely new perspectives on our chiefs – Noah Canvasser, Casey Dauw, and Joanne Lundgren. We heard “the rest of the story” for these three who have come a long way from novice PGY1s. They have withstood the intense pressures of high-stakes clinical work in the ORs and at the bedsides. They have studied hard to compete in a rarified intellectual environment of high stakes exams. And they have solved problems for patients and eased their anxieties in the high stakes of urological disease and disability. Still, their learning and practice must continue, and the stakes only get greater as our graduates advance in their careers, but they have given us confidence that they will become the leaders and the best of urologists and physicians. Our graduating fellows, a notch higher on the learning ladder, have been equally superb and have now become truly independent: Lindsey Cox, Sara Lenherr, and Paul Womble.  The art gallery was an appropriate place to celebrate this milestone with them and their families. The Shirley Chang Gallery in the Art Museum is an especially lovely space to stroll and reflect.

 

8.     The four “Rs.” The world provides as many opportunities to stroll and reflect as individual imaginations allow. A few years ago our friend Bill and Kathleen Turner (Bill was chair at the Medical University of South Carolina as well as Secretary-Treasurer and then President of the American Urological Association) a few years back took us to Mepkin Abbey in South Carolina where a dozen or so Cistercian monks have developed a community with open gates for visitors to come stroll and reflect.

Mepkin

The unofficial motto of the abbey is: read, reflect, respond, and rest. Reading intends the sense of thoughtful examination of the world around us visually, literally, auditorily, and emotionally. You don’t have to go to exotic abbeys and other places to perform the four “Rs.” Here at home you can reflect in places like the Shirley Change Gallery and in May and June, you can wander in the University of Michigan Peony Gardens. These were designed and established in 1922 with many of the original plants donated by William Upjohn, an 1875 graduate of our medical school. The collection consists mainly of one species, Paeonia lactiflora, blooming in pinks, whites, and red. The peony is named after Paeon, a pupil of the Greek god of medicine Asclepius. When the teacher became dangerously jealous as his student began to outshine him, Zeus intervened to save Paeon by turning him into the flower. Thus you might argue that the peony symbolizes education’s ultimate aim – the success of producing students who outshine their teachers. The root of the peony is a common ingredient of traditional Chinese, Japanese, and Korean medicine. Indiana has made this its state flower.

Peonies Yun_Shouping Freer

[Peonies by Chinese artist Yun Shouping, 17th century. Freer Gallery]

Peony gardens

[UM Peony Garden, June 7, 2015]

 

9.     Hippocrates allegedly said: Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult. According to the way I read this enduring aphorism and the way it is punctuated, the fleetingness of life and durability of art are linked as one thought. Life creates art, but art transcends life, and being passed across generations epigenetically, art changes life by enhancing it, inspiring it, or altering its perceptions. My late aunt Evelyn Brodzinski, a painter throughout her life and a student of visual arts, once said in reply to my question as to what, actually, constitutes art “Art is anything that is choice.” In the process of creation, selection, and omission of material and information people produce content that, presumably, had some meaning to the artist. Craving meaning in our lives, we find value in inspecting the visual, literary, or musical content that had meaning for their creators. When we started the Chang Lecture on Art & Medicine in 2007, in honor of the Chang family of artists & urologists, we hoped to offer a yearly lecture that would link the 2 essential human interests of art and medicine in some way. The choices thus made by our lecturers over the years have been amazing, and last year’s lecture by James Ravin, ophthalmologist and author of the book, The Artist’s Eye, was superb. I eagerly anticipate this year’s talk by Pierre Mouriquand who is both a pediatric urologist and an accomplished artist.

 

The Chang Lecture, targeted to a general audience, has attracted growing number of friends and members of our community. “Public goods” of our university such as the Chang Lecture and the Peony Gardens are part of the social compact between the University of Michigan and its community.

Chang 2013

 

Chang 2014

[Top: Chang Lecture 2013; bottom: Hamilton Chang, James Ravin, Dr. Cheng-Yang Chang]

 

Tom & Sharon 2013 copy

[Tom & Sharon Shumaker, loyal Chang Lecture attendees. Tom passed away in January this year.]

 

10.    Universities are the single institutions of civilization that exist for tomorrow. At the individual level they provide a framework for individuals to find their specific relevance as well as to understand the cosmopolitan nature of the world and their responsibility in it. In the larger perspective they create new knowledge through inquiry and research to provide the ideas and technology of the future. It is no accident that the largest piece of most great universities has become the health care enterprise. This is totally appropriate since health care is a dominant part of the GDP, it ultimately affects everyone, and economically it employs 1 in every 6 citizens. The bedrock of the best medical school departments consists of its faculty and the glue to secure the best of the best is the endowed professorship. Last month we held a lovely ceremony in which we turned over three existing endowed professorships to three faculty members who will carry the names of the professorships along with their titles: Khaled Hafez the George Valassis Professor, Ganesh Palapattu the George and Sandra Valassis Professor, and Julian Wan the Reed Nesbit Professor. They are superb surgeons, noteworthy thinkers, and astute clinicians. The endowed professorships allow them a little independence from the daily pressures of clinical effort and funded research.  These three are smart and kind people of the highest order and I’m lucky to call them colleagues and friends. They epitomize the cosmopolitan nature of our department, medical school, and university. Cosmopolitanism is a term I’ve come to appreciate through the work of Kwame Appiah (another author for your reading list!) and it consists of the belief that all of us human beings belong to a single global community with shared values and principles. Julian, Khaled, and Ganesh will be teaching our next generation of physicians and producing useful new knowledge in the milieu of our essential deliverable: kind and excellent clinical care. Someday, their successors – the future Valassis and Nesbit chairs – will be doing the same in the world of tomorrow that we may hardly be able to predict, but that we have thus prepared for amply.

Triple prof

[Julian Wan, Khaled Hafez, Ganesh Palapattu]

 

Best wishes, and thanks for spending time on “Matula Thoughts.”

David A. Bloom

 

 

Matula Thoughts June 5, 2015

 Matula Thoughts June 5, 2015

(2686 words)

Summertime, wolverines, universities & other disparate thoughts from a clinical department of medicine at the University of Michigan

 

1.     Huron River  June at last. Even though clinical medicine is a 24/7 business, in contrast to the seasonality of the university calendar, we can’t help but notice that summer has arrived. Ann Arbor is a glorious place to be this time of year when you can walk along, fish, kayak, or canoe the Huron River (shown above with the Gandy Dancer in the distant background). Our applicants for residency training from the west coast or south see none of this lovely environment when we interview them in late November, a real recruiting disadvantage. Nevertheless, we have again recruited a superb resident and fellow cohort to start training with us next month. Spring and summer also bring the pleasure of seeing and hearing the birds in our neighborhoods. Surviving another rough winter and hatching their 2015 chicks, they bring to mind John James Audubon, who, born 230 years ago (April 26, 1785) in Haiti, documented and detailed all sorts of American wildlife, birds especially. His Birds of America is thought to have been the first book acquired by the University of Michigan after it moved to Ann Arbor in 1837. I learned this in an article by Kevin Graffagnino in The Quarto, the quarterly publication of our Clements Library [Fall-Winter 2014]. Kevin is the Director of the Clements, one of the crown jewels of the UM. The library’s magnificent reading room with its periodic displays is an ennobling place to spend a little time, although you will have to wait until the current renovations are completed.

 Audubon

[White House copy of 1826 painting of Audubon Portrait by John Syme]

 

2.     Gulo gulo. While Audubon is best known for his birds, his work also extended to mammals and included the Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America, produced in 1845-48. The Quarto, mentioned above, included an image of a wolverine from the Quadrupeds (shown below). A miniscule number of wolverines still exist in the lower 48 states, but their Darwinian niche is contracting and it is unlikely that you or I will ever see one in the wild. Of note, a wolverine was spotted in Utah at a nocturnal baited camera station last summer. Kevin’s article says: “By one account, Ohioans were responsible for pinning the name ‘wolverine’ on Michiganians, claiming that they shared the animal’s ill temper and greedy nature.” Buckeyes can be relied upon for charming perspectives of their northern neighbors. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Audubon’s wolverine

 The wolverine (Gulo gulo) is the largest land-dwelling species of the weasel family (Mustelidae). They have weights generally of 20-55 pounds but males have been found as large as 71 pounds. Their fur is thick and oily, making it very hydrophobic and resistant to frost. Like other mustelids their anal scent glands are very pungent. Aggressive hunters and voracious eaters, wolverines are extremely rare in Michigan outside of the Big House. The skull and teeth are the most robust of carnivores their size, allowing them to eat frozen meat and crush large bones. Gulo comes from the Latin term for glutton.

Wolverine

[National Park Service photo in Wikipedia. Taken in 1968]

Wolverine brown

[Wikipedia Commons, author Zefram, 2006]

 Wolverine ranges

[Wolverine ranges – Wikipedia]

 

3.     Linnaeus, nomenclature and humanity’s obesity. The identification of the wolverine as Gulo gulo is a convention of biologists that traces back to Carl Linnaeus in the 18th century (1707-1778). This Swedish physician got his professional start with a medical practice that rested heavily on its urological aspects and provided him the opportunity to initiate an academic career in Uppsala at the university where he developed his enduring nomenclature system. His university remains one of great institutions of worldwide academia.

Linnaeus

Returning briefly to Gulo gulo, Linnaeaus never anticipated modern molecular biology, but ironically GULO also turns out to be L-gulonolactone oxidase, an enzyme that makes the precursor to Vitamin C in most living creatures although not Homo sapiens. GULO is nonfunctional in Haplorhini (namely us dry-nosed primates) as well as some bats, some birds, and guinea pigs. Loss of GULO activity in primates occurred around 63 million years ago when they (we) split into wet-nosed and dry-nosed suborders (Strepsirrhini and Haplorhini). It has been speculated that the critical mutation leading to loss of GULO production benefited survival of early primates by increasing their uric acid levels and enhancing fructose effects leading to fat accumulation and weight gain. (Johnson et al. Trans. Am Clin Climatol Assoc. 121:295, 2010) The human susceptibility to scurvy thus is a likely side effect of one of the critical evolutionary steps in the making of modern man. This amazing thought leads back to the University of Michigan and our beloved colleague Jim Neel, the founding chair, in 1956, of our Department of Human Genetics, that I believe was the first in North America, if not the world. Towards the end of his life, Jim often showed up for lunch in our medical center’s cafeteria, always toting his old well-traveled knapsack, and we had a number of provocative conversations on such matters as the biology of morality. Johnson refers specifically to Jim’s landmark “thrifty gene” paper of 1962 [Am J Hum Genetics. 1962;14:353-62] wherein Neel suggested that genetic adaptation of our primate ancestors to famine may have left modern day humans with an increased risk for obesity and diabetes when foods became plentiful. Johnson notes that while the thrifty gene hypothesis was initially well received “the inability to identify the specific genes potentially driving this response has reduced enthusiasm for the hypothesis.” Johnson’s 2010 paper revisits Neel’s hypothesis and argues that at least 2 critical mutations led to our genetic adaptation to famine: the silencing of genes necessary for Vitamin C synthesis and for uric acid degradation. These two “knock-outs” enhance the effect of fructose in increasing fat stores.   

 

 4.     Universities. The durability of Linnaeus’s university is no fluke. Darwinian forces have kept universities in play since their origin in the Middle Ages, and since then even grown their relative effect in society. When you think about it, it seems that universities are the only truly durable organizations that are legitimately here “for tomorrow.” A modern academic, David Damrosch, demonstrated this durability by quoting a study from the Carnegie Council, so permit me to repeat his observation. “A report by the Carnegie Council in 1980 began by asking how many Western institutions have shown real staying power across time. Beginning with 1530, the date of the founding of the Lutheran Church, the authors asked how many institutions that existed then can still be found now. The authors identified sixty-six in all: the Catholic Church, the Lutheran Church, the parliaments of Iceland and of the Isle of Man – and sixty-two universities.” [Damrosch D. We Scholars. Changing the Culture of the University. Harvard University Press. 1996. p. 18] This is a powerful observation. For all their annoying features (medieval hierarchy, guild mentality, ecclesiastical titles, indentured work force, elitism, resistance to change, decentralization) universities function primarily to educate the next generation and advance knowledge.

 

5.     Named lectures. William J. Mayo, a graduate of the University of Michigan Medical School in 1883, left us $2000 as “a perpetual endowment for a yearly Mayo Lecture on some subject connected with surgery.” So that the fund could grow, he gave the first two lectures himself (1924 and 1925) and had his younger brother Charlie (a graduate of Northwestern University’s medical school in 1887) give the third lecture. Except for 1929, 1930, and 1945 the tradition has been continued. Reed Nesbit was the speaker in 1968. This year our colleague and friend Skip Campbell gave a superb talk called “From volume to value: charting a course for surgery.” He discussed our incipient brave new era wherein payments to health systems and individual physicians for services will disconnect from clinical volume alone (which is easily measured and indisputable) to parameters of quality and value (which are not so indisputably measured).

 Skip - Mayo Lecture

[Skip Campbell]

 

6.     Dick and Norma Sarns, friends and neighbors, have impacted our world and local community beyond easy measure. The impact of their company in Ann Arbor, Sarns Inc., innovator and producer of heart lung machine technology, has been incredible. The Sarns device was the one used by Dr. Christian Barnard in 1967 for the first human heart transplant. Other Sarns devices followed and the company was acquired in time by 3M and is now owned by Terumo Corporation. Cardiac rehabilitation became the next focus of Dick and Norma with their next company, NuStep, Inc. As benefactors to our community through the Ann Arbor Area Community Foundation, the University of Michigan, and numerous other nonprofits, the Sarns family has been uncommonly generous with astute focus on building a better tomorrow. The Sarns story is now permanently embedded in the  larger University of Michigan narrative in the Sarns Professorship in Cardiac Surgery. The choice of Rich Prager as the inaugural Sarns Professor is fitting. You may recall that Rich gave a magnificent Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine for us in 2013. You can revisit the  talk in his subsequent JAMA article on the murals of Henry Bethune (JAMA: PN Malani, RL Prager, “Journey in Thick Wood: The Childhood of Henry Norman Bethune”, JAMA, October 8, 2014, Volume 312.) Endowments such as the Sarns Professorship will allow the University of Michigan Medical School and Health System to recruit and retain the best of the best in academic medicine to teach the next generation, to discover new knowledge and technology for tomorrow, and to do these in the milieu of our essential deliverable – kind and excellent patient care.

Sarns  Rich Prager

[Top: Dick & Norma Sarns. Bottom: Richard Prager]

 Prager:Sarns

[Standing ovation for Rich Prager]

 

7.     Next week we will recirculate 3 three existing urology professorships in a ceremony that is long overdue (June 10 at 4 PM in the BSRB Auditorium). The Valassis endowment, originally given to Jim Montie by George Valassis, has grown enough to be split into two independent professorships. Ganesh Palapattu will be installed as the George and Sandra Valassis Professor, previously held by David Wood. Khaled Hafez will receive the George Valassis Professorship, previously held by Jim Montie. Julian Wan has taken over the Nesbit Professorship, occupied up till recently by Ed McGuire. These professorships will continue in perpetuity. These conjoined celebrations of the past and investments in the future will exist as long as the University of Michigan stands. We will need more endowed professorships here in Ann Arbor if we are to remain at the top of the game as a leader and one of the best in academic medicine as federal and clinical funding of medical education and research continue to slip.

 

 8.     The American Urological Association met in New Orleans this mid-May, having last convened in the Crescent City in 1997. University of Michigan faculty and residents had well over 100 abstracts, posters, podium sessions, and panels in addition to dozens of committee meetings. While it is impossible to even mention but a fraction of these, the MUSIC collaborative initiated by Jim Montie, deployed so excellently by David Miller and now assisted so well by Khurshid Ghani, was a highlight. This collaborative has brought many urologic practices and other urology centers outside the UM to podiums at the AUA in the interest of improving urologic care and practice. The quality, value, and safety of health care cannot effectively be managed centrally by government, industry, or national organizations such as the American Board of Medical Specialties. These attributes of excellence must be played out at the bedsides, clinics, operating tables, hospitals and in the offices of committed practitioners. Lean process believers would say that improvements in complex systems are most efficiently and effectively recognized and tested in the workplace, at the “Gemba” (lean process engineering terminology for workplace). Just as central management of a nation’s economy failed in the Soviet Union, central regulation of quality, safety, and “value” is a doomed experiment. Collaboratives such as MUSIC, built on trust and a desire to improve patient care, work best at the local and regional levels. An educational and social reception at the AUA showcased MUSIC and David Miller challenged the group to extend its work beyond prostate cancer to other urologic conditions. Walking through the main hallway of the giant convention center at the AUA meeting I kept seeing Toby Chai and Ganesh Palapattu on the video screen in the Rising Stars display. Michigan had a heavy presence at the AUA again this year.

 

9.     Our Nesbit Reception hosted more than 130 alumni, friends, faculty, and residents. For me the Nesbit Society events are high points of the year. We held this event at the 100 year-old Le Pavilion Hotel. Although hit hard by Katrina in 2005, Le Pavilion took in many of its employees with their families and pets in the wake of the devastation, yet was back up and running as a hotel by December of that year. The social part of a profession, especially a profession as social as medicine, is an essential part of its substance and pleasure and the Nesbit Society serves this function well. We had a large contingent from Denmark and the University of Copenhagen including Jens Sönksen and his daughter Louise who was a little girl when they lived in Ann Arbor. Barry Kogan, Bart & Amy Grossman, Marty & Anne Sanda, Kathleen Kieran, and our contributions to the Northwestern urology program (JO DeLancey, Diana Bowen, & Drew Flum) were on hand. So too were Sarah Fraumann and Jackie Milose who will both be doing reconstructive urology for the University of Chicago but at polar ends of the city. Stephanie Kielb of course is in the middle of the city on the Northwestern faculty. Jill Macoska was back from Boston and Bunmi (E. Oluwabunmi Olapade-Olaopa) was the most distant traveler, hailing from Ibadan, Nigeria. Many other former students and friends joined our faculty and residents for a lovely evening that Mike Kozminski and Julian Wan put together with Sandy Heskett and April Malis. Our next Nesbit event will be in the autumn (October 15-17), deep in the midst of football season and we have great expectations for our pigskin wolverines. With a new coaching staff on the scene we can well understand the need to have put aside our annual prostate cancer fund raiser, the Michigan Men’s Football Experience. It must be “first things first” for Coach Harbaugh’s team this inaugural year. While fund raisers come and go, our work in the Medical School and Health System remains nonstop without seasonality. Urologic research at Michigan continues to progress, with a number of exciting findings and technologies in play that will be discussed in upcoming departmental What’s New communications.

 Danes Jens & daughter

[Above-Danish contingent: L-> R Stefan Howart from Coloplast, Peter Oestergren, Lasse Fahrenkrug, Eric Halvarsen, André Germaine, Jens Sönksen. Bottom: Jens & Louise]

 Barry & Bart Marty & Cheryl

[Top-Barry Kogan Chair at Albany, Bart Grossman from MD Anderson; Bottom-Lindsey Herrel, Cheryl Lee, & Marty Sanda Chair at Emory]

 Osawa NPR ladies

[Top–Takahiro Osawa, Noburo Shinohara, Takahiro Mitsui; Bottom-Lindsey Cox, Yahir Santiago-Lastra, Anne Cameron]

 Alon, PAs, Jacuqi

[Alon Weizer, Jackie Milose, Mary Nowlin, Liz Marsh]

 Bonmie

[Bunmi Olapade-Olaopa, Peter Knapp, Quentin Clemens]

 

10.    It is worth reflecting upon telltale signals that we either pick up or miss. On this particular day in 1981 the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that five people in Los Angeles, California, had a rare form of pneumonia seen only in patients with weakened immune systems. At the time this observation was a matter of only faint curiosity to most physicians, and of even less interest to the public at large until it turned out, in retrospect, to have been the first recognized cases of AIDS. In the crowded bandwidth of everyday clinical life, narrow subspecialty focus, and the administrative hassles of the practice of medicine it is important to keep a deliberate open mental channel tuned to the greater environment of healthcare and science. Many telltale signs that presage tomorrow surround us and one wonders what telltale signals we are missing amidst today’s noise and summertime moments.

May flowers [Lilacs in front of old Mott]

Upcoming events: Residents graduation dinner. Triple professorship installation. Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine Thursday July 16 – Dr. Pierre Mouriquand Professor Claude-Bernard University, Lyon, France: “Slowly down the Rhône: the river and its artists.”

 

Thanks for spending time on “Matula Thoughts” this month.

David A. Bloom

 

 

 

Matula Thoughts March 6, 2015

Matula Thoughts, 6 March 2015 

Seeing ourselves, health care, & other thoughts. 

3486 words

 

Screen Shot 2015-02-28 at 11.06.59 AM

1.    By March, winter has pretty much worn out its welcome in Ann Arbor. Strictly speaking it’s officially spring in 15 days, although it hasn’t been feeling that close. Nevertheless, we muster on contending with polar vortices by means of central heating, L.L. Bean fleece, March Madness and comfort food. On this particular day, March 6 in 1943, the Saturday Evening Post published Norman Rockwell’s illustration Freedom from Want. Although the illustration might have seemed more suitable for a Thanksgiving issue, the work was number three in his Four Freedoms series. Rockwell’s oil paintings were inspired by Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s 1941 Four Freedoms State of the Union Address. Rockwell actually started this particular painting in November 1942 depicting his friends and family at their Thanksgiving. The other end of the spectrum from Rockwell’s idyllic scene is the image evoked in a report I saw recently from the Bangweulu Wetlands in Zambia on the unintended use of mosquito nets for fishing where:  Out here on the endless swamps, a harsh truth has been passed down from generation to generation: There is no fear but the fear of hunger.  [Gettleman NYT Jan 25, 2015 p.1]  

 Freedom_from_want_1943-Norman_Rockwell

2.    Freedom from want is a timely theme. During these cold wintry days, it is discomforting to cross paths with panhandlers on our streets. How do we each respond, knowing that many panhandlers have terrible life stories and are at their wits’ end without resources for the next meal or warm bed? (Yes, many of them are clever enough to make a living on the street and a few actually retreat to their own abodes to sleep at night). It is important to realize that most homeless people are not panhandlers and that not all panhandlers are homeless. Furthermore, mental illness is a pervasive condition among panhandlers and the homeless. Most experts on homelessness agree that handouts to panhandlers are not a good solution for homelessness, hunger, and mental illness; a set of community solutions is vastly preferable. University towns like Ann Arbor provide good environments for panhandlers who can turn streets full of students into their workplaces. Still, many of these people are truly homeless and hungry – so how do you and I face those who confront us directly with their need? It is a personal dilemma. I often point them to the Delonis Center, only a few blocks away as a resource that offers decent food, shelter, and a pathway out of homelessness. Many of us in the community support Delonis, but its capacity is stretched and some who need shelter and services are adverse to it for varied reasons. The failure of our society in the industrialized world of 2015 to provide food, security and decent shelter to all its citizens is troubling. Health care is as basic “a need” as food and shelter and most of those folks on the street are incapable of attending to their basic health needs. One measure of our humanity is the sense of empathy that allows us to see ourselves in the faces of the needy who confront us. The great religions value empathy, our most respected leaders throughout time displayed empathy, and mankind’s greatest thinkers argued for it, notably in my mind Adam Smith in his opening sentence of the Theory of Moral Sentiments. Yet, we must be constantly aware for ourselves as we gain privilege and power, that power diminishes empathy. When we lose the recognition that the homeless and the panhandlers are in a real sense our doppelgängers we lose much of our humanity.

3.    Homelessness and hunger are invisible to us most of the time in our busy lives in clinics and operating rooms, contending with hospital capacity issues, residency education, MiChart, RVUs, regulatory mandatories, grant deadlines, and the rest of the broth of clinical and academic medicine. A recent Lancet editorial [The Lancet 384:478, 2014] and series [Faizel, Geddes, Kushel The Lancet 384:1529, 2014 and Hwang & Burns  384:1541, 2014] dealt with homelessness, noting that on any night in the USA and Europe around 1 million people are homeless (median age is 50 years). And what about the Middle East, South America, Africa, and Asia? In our own Washtenaw County, the federally-mandated count on a cold day this January found 307 sheltered and 80 unsheltered homeless people. Of the 387 that day: 52 were children, 94 had severe mental illness, 44 had chronic substance abuse, and 34 were victims of domestic violence. Chronic homelessness accounted for 71 of the total and 29 of the 387 were military veterans. Homeless people, just like us luckier ones, may suffer from multiple morbidities, infectious and noninfectious, including all of the genitourinary disorders that we urologists manage. Yet, most of the homeless are well outside networks that feed into our health care system. The Affordable Care Act (ACA) made inroads into this underserved (or unserved) population, but better models and systems of health care are needed if we hope to truly mitigate freedom from want and provide basic humanitarian services fairly. At the personal level, it’s unrealistic to expect most of us in academic medicine to volunteer in soup kitchens or hand out blankets and socks on the streets. Clinical work is demanding and our environment heaps on additional burdens such that few of us work less than 80 hours a week. However, our community offers a variety of philanthropic opportunities that can use our dollars and leadership just as handily as direct labor. So if you feel some moral traction when you pass by a panhandler, rather than handing over cash (that may or may not be used well), look further (and point them to) resources in our community that help the homeless, hungry, and uncared for – the Delonis Center, the Packard Clinic, and others. If these resources are inadequate, help make them better.

4.    Steven Brill’s book called America’s Bitter Pill was a follow-up to the focused issue of Time magazine he wrote, and I discussed, 2 years ago in these columns. I read the book word-by-word, including the appendix and footnotes. Brill frames the story well and reasonably fairly. Replete with detail as to the historical background of healthcare economics in the USA, Brill takes the reader from March 2007 when the ACA started to take shape as an idea to a year ago in April 2014 when its implementation was in full swing. Much of American health care is the envy of the world, in terms of medical education, residency training, research, and innovation. Yet we are also rightly and severely faulted (often by ourselves) for failure to provide equitable care, for our costs, and for our results. Brill is a journalist and between his Time issue and his new book he experienced a catastrophic illness that gave greater nuance to his reporting. On April 4, 2014 he underwent repair of an expanding symptomatic aortic aneurysm at Cornell. He praised the doctors and the staff, but disparaged the administration of the hospital. His repair and 8 days in the hospital cost $197,000 – and he says it was worth every penny of it, to him. The politics and sausage-making deals with the hospital industry, insurance industry, pharmaceutical industry, and device industry are not pretty. The sausage, by the way, was pure pork. Effectually absent from the bargaining table (and thus on the menu) were the consumers, health care workers, health care scientists, and the educational community of healthcare. Representing the consumers (that is, the public who otherwise were never at the bargaining tables) was the basic structure of the ACA which was totally modeled on Romney Care and its triple intent. These three legs have been variously stated, but they boil down to these:

a.) expanding healthcare coverage throughout the nation;

b.) continuation of an “insurance-based” system that remains employer-funded, private pay funded, & government-funded; 

c.) abandoning the constraints of pre-existing exclusions & life-long limits of coverage.

Kicked down the road was the matter of cost, which inevitably will rise with expanded coverage, enormous subsidies, and corporate protections (future “give-backs” from industry notwithstanding). It was pure speculation to assume that costs will drop after ACA implementation due to less waste, electronic record implementation, bundling of services, improved safety, better “quality” and the “give-backs” of industry. Just about a year ago the federal exchange, HealthCare.gov, was resurrected (in large part with help from Google experts) after its disastrous initial launch. Given that healthcare has become such a massive part of our economy, no single fix, even as complex as the ACA is likely to solve the main problems. Furthermore in the unlikely event of totally disabling the ACA, the negative impact on health care and the larger economy would be unimaginable at this point. Inexplicably, Congress’s flawed 1997 Sustainable Growth Rate (SGR) law that linked Medicare’s relative value units (RVUs are measures of clinical work) to changes in national gross domestic product (GDP) was not addressed in the ACA. This law has now been “put off” by last-minute Congressional “fixes” 17 times. As for my position on these matters, I am a believer in social objectives of the triple intent that underlies RomneyCare, ObamaCare, the ACA, or whatever label you want to throw at it. Few reasonable people doubt that the pre-existing state of health care was unsustainable. Nevertheless, Brill’s book with its collection of leadership lapses, bungled technology deployment, management failures, turf battles, political grandstanding, closed-door deals, corporate greed, personal tragedies, and more, is not inspiring. The ACA may be ultimately so complex, so flawed, and as yet so indeterminate that it will prove to rival the injustice, personal pain, and unsustainable costs of the pre-existing state of heath care. Time will tell. I’ll give what I think is the bottom line on Brill’s book next month. Meanwhile, I believe the ACA’s main effects are here to stay for a while (we will learn what the Supreme Court thinks about the “four word mistake” in the law), but are not sustainable in the long run. The market, the academic community, and the government will inevitably float new ideas and experiments. Some may even be good.

5.    Ultimately, the idea of funding a nation’s health care mainly on an insurance model is not sensible. Basic health care is a human right; people need health care from before birth until death. Furthermore, universal health care is in the public interest – you don’t want people standing next to you on the street with active TB, influenza, measles, or smallpox. Nor do you want a suicidal driver to crash head-on into your car. We don’t need Emergency Departments overwhelmed by health care crises that could have been pre-empted by good preventative medicine and timely care of routine illnesses. We also need the next generation to be healthy in mind and body so as to improve our world and civilization (and fund social security!). Insurance, however, is a sensible way to fund big ticket and catastrophic expenses – such as ruptured aortic aneurysms, renal failure, liver transplantation, major trauma, or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis care to name a few terrible problems.  One experiment in health care delivery already underway is the Federally Qualified Health Center or FQHC.  We have discussed this in these columns and after a few years of preparation finally implemented involvement of our Department of Urology at the Hamilton FQHC in Flint.

6.    FQHC. In January John Wei held the first urology clinic at the Hamilton FQHC in Flint, in February John Stoffel held the second, and we intend to continue a monthly presence there. Hamilton’s facilities include a new user-friendly multi-specialty building just north of the city. Last year’s Hamilton budget was around $22 million, including its basic federal grant of $3.5 million, and it is very well run under the leadership of Michael Giacalone and Clarence Pierce. The following details may seem arcane, but are worth knowing. FQHC’s operate under the auspices of the Health Resources and Services Administration (HRSA). These grant-funded (330B) Health Centers satisfy the following requirements: they are in high need communities, are governed by community boards, offer comprehensive primary care with supporting services, provide services to everyone (with adjusted fees according to need), and meet government accountability requirements. Nationally in 2013 FQHCs served 21.7 million patients and provided 86 million visits. In addition, HRSA supervises two other types of Health Center programs. One is the non-grant supported “FQHC Look-Alike” that operates under Section 330 of the PHS Act. Washtenaw County was just approved for its first “look-alike” at the Packard Clinic. Look-alikes nationally served 1 million patients in 2013 with 4 million visits. The other alternative outpatient program functions under the Indian Self-Determination Act. Although insurance paradigms currently work well with FQHCs, it is the grant funding that provides the backbone.

 

 425px-Save_Freedom_of_Speech  save_freedom_worship  Freedom From Fear

7.    The other freedoms that FDR’s State of the Union addressed were: speech, worship, and fear. In that order those Rockwell illustrations were published in 1943 on February 20 and 27, and March 13 each accompanied by a matching essay. The FDR freedoms contrast and compare with the equalities articulated by Danielle Allen in her book Our Declaration, mentioned here last month. Allen makes the point that a just society cannot have freedom without a framework of equality. FDR’s freedoms are in themselves manifestations of equality throughout a society including basic human needs of food, shelter, health, and safety with the political freedoms of worship and speech. It is compelling that the final figure, Freedom from Fear, shows 2 parents concerned about their children’s future. [All paintings are at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts.] The future of our children is not only a fundamental human concern, but it is evident throughout much of the animal kingdom. I recall TV docu-drama years ago dealing with the Cuban missile crisis during the Kennedy presidential administration in which JFK summed up our ultimate mutual long-term interests with the Soviets in a phrase something like this: We all inhabit the same Earth, we breathe the same air, and cherish our children’s future. These sentiments derive from thinking of the Enlightenment, tenets of social justice expressed (although imperfectly) in some modern governments, and emerging belief in the necessity for planetary stewardship. Kennedy’s point: if two conflicting sides recognize the similarity of their human condition and ultimate aspirations, conflict can be mediated. This is the empathy of the doppelgänger. I’ve been unsuccessful so far in learning if this was an actual quote from Kennedy or part of the television script, but the words are good. Of course, as we are learning in the Mideast, barbarity and conflict endure when similarity of the human condition is not mutually recognized such as when one side claims divine advantage.

8.    The future of our children and the future of our planet have been best represented by universities for the past 600 years. Universities have been the only enduring heavy-hitters in the matters of educating our successors and expanding the knowledge base of humanity. To a great extent this mission developed accidentally and is fulfilled inadequately. Far from recognizing this essential role, most modern universities fret about rankings, reputations, endowment races, NIH market shares, applicant/acceptance ratios, athletic programs, profitable products, and so forth. We see few grand educational visions. We see little focus on creating a better planet tomorrow – better citizens, better workforce, better governments,  and better energy sources to allow 8 billion or more people to inhabit the same Earth, breath the same air, and give all children a decent chance for self-determined lives. 

9.   Senses. The idea that we, among many other biologic constructs, have 5 senses goes back to the time of Aristotle if not well before then. Hearing, touch, sight, taste, and smell comprise the classic senses, but the reality is more complex for most creatures with additional senses as proprioception, thirst, hunger, and magneto reception. Humans also have a unique sense of time. The human intellect can integrate and creatively imagine senses, such as when you read, dream, or think. Importantly for our species although perhaps not unique to us, is the sense of compassion as so well articulated by Adam Smith that I want to again bring forward. His book, The Theory of Moral Sentiments, in 1759  begins: How selfish soever man may be supposed, there are evidently some principles in his nature, which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it. This sense of philanthropy (love of humanity) is a fundamental part of the human condition that has allowed us to build teams, societies, and civilizations in which we take care of ourselves, including the needy and the vulnerable, as well as to try to create a better tomorrow for our children and their successors. FDR’s Four Freedoms (etched into stone at the FDR monument in Washington, DC) extend Adam Smith’s optimism in mankind’s better nature.

200px-FDR_Memorial_wall

 

 Doppelganger

10.   Faces – a big step in the world of surgery. Excluding the rare true doppelgängers, it is our faces that mainly set us apart. [Illustration: Dante Gabriel Rossetti – How They Met Themselves. Watercolor 1864. Fitzwilliam Museum] For higher orders of mammals facial recognition is the key identifying feature. The nuances of human expression are essential to conscious and subconscious communication. Darwin wrote a book on this topic in 1872 called The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals. Among all the equalities that modern civilization is built upon, the equality of human recognition is no less essential than any other. Seeing the faces of our fellow members of society is a requisite part of the equality of reciprocity in civilization. Facial expression is essential to full interactive participation in society, to understand intent, acceptance, irony, honesty, displeasure, and all the other nuances necessary to the normal daily give and take of citizens, neighbors, customers, and all stakeholders in modern life. To “lose face” is a basic human shame in the figurative sense, but a horrendous circumstance in the physical sense. Ten years ago the first face transplant was accomplished and a recent Lancet article reviewed the first 28 facial transplants done to date in this new surgical frontier.[Khalifian, Brazio, Mohan, et al. The Lancet 384:2153, 2014]

 The authors wrote:

Facial transplantation is a single operation that can restore aesthetic and functional characteristics of the native face by giving ultimate expression to Sir Harold Gillies’ principle of ‘replacing like with like’ … Unlike solid organ transplantation, which is potentially life-saving, facial transplantation is life-changing. The possible consequences of life-long immunosuppression in otherwise healthy individuals  – including cancer, metabolic disorders, opportunistic infections and death – must be carefully balanced to minimize risk and maximize benefit. Yet surgical innovation has outpaced the scientific community’s ability to fully address certain immunological and clinical challenges. Here, we review the immunological, neurological, and anatomical principles gleaned from the 9 years since the first facial transplantation with a discussion of ethical considerations, highlighting lessons learned from clinical experience.    

A few comments on this quotation. You see once again how surgical innovation outpaced knowledge in the so-called scientific community. Yet isn’t it a strange belief that the surgical community is “not scientific” – for what is science after all but matters of imagination, methodological experimentation, analysis, and new hypothesis? Gillies, by the way, was one of the great early pioneers of modern plastic surgery. The last phrase lessons learned from clinical experience is the essence of the rational practice of medicine and this applies equally in the unnecessarily separated domains of medicine and surgery. A cynic might argue that the 28 salvaged lives cannot justify the costs and risks involved. Wiser voices would counter while the dozens of steps on the moon hardly justified the costs and risks of the lunar program, the collective spinoffs to knowledge and technology were of immeasurably greater value. In a parallel way face transplants similarly extended the reach of medicine and philosophic understanding of the meaning of a face. What have been the big steps in genitourinary surgery? Cystoscopy, cystolithalopaxy, orchidopexy, hypospadias repair, closure of exstrophy, prostatectomy for benign disease, perineal prostatectomy for cancer, the use of bowel in urinary tract reconstruction, cystectomy and bladder substitution, TURP, renal transplantation, ESWL, the Mitrofanoff principle, minimally invasive urologic surgery, and nerve sparing retropubic prostatectomy come to mind. Certainly there are others and more importantly, there will be more. Some will come from here in Ann Arbor.

 

Screen Shot 2015-03-02 at 11.01.07 AM

A final comment. We will miss Michael Johns, who has been with us for much of the past year providing wisdom and effective leadership for our medical school and health system as Executive Vice President for Medical Affairs. We welcome his successor Marschall Runge.

[ President Mark Schlissel, Special Counsel to President Liz Barry , & Michael Johns]

 

 Best wishes, and thanks for spending time on “Matula Thoughts.”  David A. Bloom

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 David A. Bloom

Matula Thoughts August 1, 2014. Art & medicine.

Matula Thoughts August 1, 2014: Art & medicine

This is the blog format of the monthly email communication called “What’s New” from the University of Michigan Urology Department.

 

 

1.  Drive home

My drive home from work in the summer is likely to occur in cheerful sunlight, even when the hour is late. A good piece of this seasonal pleasure still remains for us at the start of August. July 2014 has come to a close and with it the celebration of the Fourth, the Ann Arbor Art Fairs, and the Chang-Duckett-Lapides Lectureships of the Urology Department. Our PGY1s (interns) class of 2019 began at least five years of residency training that may easily extend by several additional years with fellowships that many of our graduates undertake. The lectureships we hold every year around this time add some formality and socialization as the new academic season of residency training commences. Andrew Kirsch of Emory University gave a remarkable Duckett Lecture on his work with magnetic resonance urography (MRU) and Kassa Darge of the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia produced a superb Lapides Lecture on the wide scope of urologic imaging and his experience with MRU. We had excellent attendance and wonderful discussion. MRU is clearly the new IVP. Yes, it is at present much more costly, but as we saw in the discussions, a careful history and physical exam with high quality GU ultrasonography in the hands of well-trained and experienced clinicians will answer anatomic questions well enough to deal for most problems we see. In complex situations, however, the detailed anatomic and functional information from the MRU is unsurpassed. George Drach of the University of Pennsylvania presented a clear discussion of a muddy topic – the Affordable Care Act. He promised that the topic will get even muddier next year as complex add-on legislation accrues in the year ahead.

Kirsch

[Andrew Kirsch, Duckett Lecturer, with Susan Kirsch]

Duckett Drach Darge

[Peggy Duckett, George Drach, & Kassa Darge, Lapides Lecturer]

 

2.    The Chang Lecture on Art and Medicine (our 8th) was given by James Ravin, a well-known ophthalmologist from Toledo who had trained here in Ann Arbor. I first learned about him through his book, The Artist’s Eyes, which had been sent to me by Steven and Faith Brown, Michigan alumni and strong supporters of Michigan Urology. The lecture was amazing and we can mail you a CD of the lecture if you send us a note. Before Dr. Ravin took the microphone, I asked the audience: Why should a urology department care about the link between art and medicine? My answer was twofold and I’d like to repeat it here. The first reason is simply the matula. This long-standing symbol of the medical profession is the flask used for the macroscopic examination of urine. Not insignificantly that is also the name we selected for this blog. The second reason is that this linkage is hardwired in our species. Genetics and epigenetics demand this attention from us. Maybe this is a presumptive conceit, but most people believe our existence among life forms is unique and that the distinctive human condition we claim is built upon our curiosity, our creativity, and our tendency to reflect upon ourselves as well as our fellows. These traits have led to our ability to solve problems cooperatively and accomplish complex tasks like building cathedrals, performing symphonies, writing encyclopedias, or doing cystectomies and urinary diversions. Art is part of all human performances, most especially the medical arts.

Chang's

[Hamilton Chang, James Ravin – Chang Lecturer, & Dr. Cheng-Yang Chang]

 

3.    That the study of art should occur in a university is no surprise, universities are the primary stewards of the future – the human future and the global future. Universities educate tomorrow’s builders, thinkers, and citizens. They and their graduates are the primary sources of tomorrow’s ideas and inventions. No other institution in society has such a broad mandate, much less fulfilled it so well over centuries as universities. Ben Shahn, an American Artist of the second part of the 20th century, put together an essay in a book called The Shape of Content in 1960, where he specifically addressed the matter of visual art in universities, writing: “What can any artist bring to the general knowledge or theoretical view of art that has not already been fully expounded? What can he say in words that he could not far more skillfully present in pictorial form? Is not the painting rather than the printed page his testament? Will he not only expend his energies without in any way increasing the general enlightenment? And then, what can an audience gain from listening to an artist that it could not apprehend far more readily simply by looking at his pictures?” While Shahn was specific that his comments related to visual art, his point extends more broadly.

 

4.    Shahn answers his own questions in the essay, developed from lectures at Harvard College and offers two reasons why universities (and by extension medical schools and their departments) should be interested in art. First, the product of universities, educated persons, should have what he called the accomplishment of perceptivity – a necessity for tomorrow’s international citizens. His second reason is that the universities, themselves, are enriched by bringing art, he says, into the circle of humanistic studies. This point anticipates the vision that E.O. Wilson called consilience, the idea of global village of knowledge in which boundaries between fields of study are mere human conceits. Wilson contends that the most important findings for our species will be made at the interfaces and boundary waters among the fields. Shahn expands on this second point in his essay, saying that bringing art into the circle of humanistic studies serves the: “… general objective of unifying the different branches of study toward some kind of a whole culture. I think it is highly desirable that such diverse fields as, let us say, physics or mathematics, come within the purview of the painter, who may amazingly enough find in them impressive visual elements or principles. I think it is equally desirable the physicist or mathematician come to accept into his hierarchy of calculable things, … [the] nonmeasurable and extremely random human element which we commonly associate with poetry or art.” [Shahn p. 9]

 

5.    Visiting professorships are an important part of academia, bringing the best insights of established thought leaders, as well as the newer voices and controversial ideas of those who challenge the status quo. We do this fairly well at Michigan Urology throughout the year in each of the disciplines within our field. It is equally and especially important for universities to offer periodic public lectures on broad themes such as Ben Shahn provided at Harvard for general audiences on topics that offer important humanistic insights, cut across fields of study, and stimulate conversation and cultural curiosity. We try to fulfill our part with the Chang Lecture and if you missed it this year, consider holding that calendar slot next year on the Thursday of the Art Fairs. Our speaker will be Pierre Mouriquand of Lyon, France. He is an extraordinary pediatric urologist, a deep thinker, and a committed artist who paints nearly every day.

 

6.    A number of years ago I came across a wonderful statement made by the late and great Michigan faculty member and world-class physiologist, Horace Davenport. A student recalled him telling a medical class that “physicians are the attendants at the service station of life.” Of course, in Dr. Davenport’s days the gas stations were true service stations where someone pumped your gasoline, checked your oil and tires, washed your windows, and actually fixed problems with your automobile. Notwithstanding the dated image of the service station, it is an appealing metaphor. While the current phrase patient-centered care is bandied about as though it were a new idea, the consideration of “what the patient wants” has really never been far from the minds of good physicians. While we all have seen instances of domineering and inconsiderate medical care, the idea of a “patient-centric” approach is hardly revolutionary and new. It is unfortunate, albeit useful, that we need to proclaim that the health care we offer in our organizations is “patient-centric.” As health care has become more complex, specialized, and team-based it is easy to retreat onto islands of our professional turfs and focus on the solutions of isolated clinical problems. This professional convenience, however, turns patients and their inevitable co-morbidities of modern life into mere packages of DRGs in search of CPTs. The complex billing systems we dignify with the phrase modern electronic medical records are more than innocent co-conspirators in this crime. The success of the modern health care enterprise will depend on its ability to simultaneously fulfill the desires and needs of each patient in the contexts of their physical, emotional, and social problems. This will require teams and systems that are at once lean and adaptive.

 

7.    Long before science impacted the work of physicians, medicine was described as an art and I believe there still is much art to our work insofar as you might look at art as anything that is choice. Science and evidence cannot and will never define all of our choices in medicine. Two fundamental questions define modern health care. The first is: what does the patient (and family) really need and want? The second is: what does society want from its health care enterprise? The answers to the two questions are quite different. It is the first question that drives our essential transactions in health care, patient-by-patient and family-by-family. Of course these transactions must exist in the framework of society and the sense of what is right and reasonable to do for each individual patient. On the other hand as we create public policies and deploy health care systems, the second question comes heavily into play and begs the question: how much should a nation spend on the well-being of its people? So is 20% of GDP, for example, too much or is it not enough? It’s interesting to compare health care to food expenses. In some nations, families spend 60% of their household income on food, while in the USA food accounts for less than 10%. Granted that individual household expenses and national GDP are very different “apples and oranges” and the constraints of a nation differ from those of a household, it is clear that the more one expense dominates a budget the less remains for other necessary and desirable expenses. As a matter of public policy, however, ideally how much should a nation spend on its health care? How much on the education of its next generation? How much on its self-defense, on its research & development, on its infrastructure depreciation, or on its service of past debt? However you answer these questions, it is a fact that in the USA we are moving towards 20% of GDP for health care, and other advanced nations are not terribly far behind and moving towards us. That being said – a good third of the expense is generally recognized as waste – money spent that helps neither patients nor society.

Table from The Economist

[Table from The Economist]

Huffington Post

[Huffington Post July 10, 2014]

 

8.    An interesting point of view, written 2 years ago in the New England Journal of Medicine by MJ Barry and S Edgman-Levitan, called Shared Decision Making discussed a Picker Institute report that identified eight characteristics of care as the most important indicators of quality and safety from the perspective of patients. These characteristics are: respect for patient values, preferences & expressed needs, coordinated & integrated care, clear information & education of high value for the patient & family, physical comfort with alleviation of fear & anxiety, appropriate involvement of family & friends, continuity, and access to care. This list mirrors a more simple set of things that I believe patients want, since these are the simple things I want from my personal physicians: kindness, expertise, and convenience. Perhaps the attributes you might list would differ in number or terminology, but I think most people want roughly the same things. [MJ Barry and S Edgman-Levitan, Shared Decision Making. NEJM 366:780, 2012]

 

9.    Crayon drawing

I’ve shown this picture before in our Department of Urology “What’s New” column, but am compelled to share it again. The picture appeared on the cover of JAMA, a fact that dates this work since for the past year or so the new editor of the journal, Howard Bauchner, while he retained the art feature, moved it from its long-standing place on the cover of each issue. [JAMA 3017:2497, 2012. Toll E. The cost of technology. Copyright 2011 Thomas Murphy] Change is inexorable, however, and I have to say that he has done a superb job with the journal, both in format and in topic selection. The illustration shown (with previous permission of the author, Elizabeth Toll) shows a crayon drawing of a scene in a doctor’s office. The 7-year old artist drew her sister sitting on the examining table looking at the viewer in a most Vermeer-like fashion. Mother, with a younger child on her lap, is seated at the far right. The artist sits in between, at work on her picture, but also gazing intently at the viewer. The astonishing feature of the artwork however is the physician sitting at the far left, totally absorbed at the keyboard in the technology that is mandated in healthcare. The software has become a surrogate for the patient. The artist told it as it was and, no doubt the physician felt some shame on viewing the artwork. The enormous sums of money we have been forced to expend on clunky and dated software, compliance for poorly fashioned regulation, and the turmoil of the restructuring of a massive industry are a significant part of the waste. What will the next generation of health care look like when we leave behind the RVU, meaningful use, EPIC, and ICD-10? Such a world cannot be too far away. We hope academia, industry, and public policy can put together systems that are accessible, fair, lean, adaptive, and good for patients.

Halter, Bauchner, Malani Kerr

[Jeff Halter, Howard Bauchner, Preeti Malani, & Eve Kerr at a reception at   Preeti’s home 2013]

 

10.   The well patient exam has been challenged as “unnecessary.” So too has the routine pelvic exam, the PSA testing, and even routine urinalysis. This brings me to the question, what is the point of healthcare? As physicians we like to solve and fix problems of patients, but is that all that patients really want? Yes, often a patient comes with a very specific problem, but very often not all the problems are evident and sometimes they are deeply entangled with the other issues we like to call co-morbidities. This brings me back to Dr. Davenport’s thought. People and their cars have to stop at service stations from time to time. Sometimes they need gas or have a flat tire. At times the car isn’t working well and help is needed of one sort or another, but the problem isn’t immediately evident and the attendant must diagnose before repair. It is also useful, at other times, to have an expert look at the car, see how it runs, listen to the engine, and check under the hood. Preventive maintenance and inspections may discover occult issues for which early intervention can prevent serious harm. I can’t believe this isn’t true for human bodies and minds. People need to stop by the service stations of life from time to time just as well, for after all we are susceptible to far more ills than our motor vehicles. A doctor, or other health care provider, can look, listen, counsel, advise, and teach. The pastoral side of a doctor’s art should still be a major part of the toolkit. Not every problem discovered needs remedy, but every person should be seen, listened to, and examined periodically by some kind and expert attendant at the service stations of life where art and medicine converge. This is how we care for the human condition.

Gas Station

[1936 Union Gas Station. Main & Weatherlow. Lassen County History. Wikipedia – Historic gas stations]

 

 

 

 

Best wishes, and thanks for spending time on “Matula Thoughts.”

David A. Bloom, Department of Urology, University of Michigan