If I would decide how hospitals are governed (and I don’t), these would be important points for me:
1. Food: Thy food be thy medicine – and vice versa – Hippocrates said. What is served as “food” in hospitals these times, is mostly abysmal and just goes to show that conventional medicine is not interested in really finding out the root cause of disease. In many cases, it is nutrition, stupid!
2. Cafeteria: Same for the place where all the visitors come and eat. It could be an educational experience, instead just another gorging with inferior foodstuff, filled with chemicals, trans-fats, sugars and dairy.
3. Quiet: When I was a child in Germany, and my father was a doctor, he used to take me on his rounds. Hospitals then were very quiet places. The nurses (often nuns) would walk on their rubber soles like on cushions, and they spoke with low voices. The doors to patient rooms were double doors – the patient had privacy and quiet.
4. What hasn’t changed much: That the hospital routine is not geared toward patient recovery but to a ward schedule convenient for doctors and nurses: Then as now patients are pulled out of sleep to measure their temperature or draw blood tests at four am. I would like to see more concern for the patient’s wellbeing than for the organization’s.
5. No TV in patient rooms: My guess is that at least seventy percent of all illness is self-inflicted. It used to be that being in the hospital was a time for contemplation about what brought one there. Not any longer – as TV is squeaking and squealing day and night.
6. Conventional and complementary medicines are BOTH used. There should be no bias toward the one or the other – what has been proven to work should be applied: Hydrotherapy, movement therapy, food, herbal medicine and art, music, journaling, acupuncture, massage, and so on – they all should be used to make patients better. As they are in most European hospital. And paid for by national health insurance. And, no, they are NOT going to be broke …
7. More cleanliness in the facilities. More cleanliness of the patients. Used to be that hospital were spic-and-span places where you could eat from the floor; not any longer. Instead of on cleanliness we trust in antibiotics – to our detriment. Same with patients’ cleanliness: Used to be that nurses washed the patients daily; not any longer. Nurses have gone scientific (necessarily so – but who is now responsible for caring?); the paperwork has become overwhelming. Housekeeping has been out-sourced. And simple ideas like a washing and cleaning have become obsolete. But hospital infections are skyrocketing.
8. More friendliness and caring toward the patient. The patient has become a moneymaking device.
9. Less care and resources to be spent on very old, very sick people in their last days of life – more on pediatric and under-served populations. DNR (Do Not Resuscitate orders discussed with every patient and/or every family). It will lead to savings of money and will allow people to die with dignity.
10. In medical schools, only half of the students should be A+ nerds; the other half should be people who really want to become doctors and patient advocates from all walks of life. We need very brilliant students because they push medicine’s frontiers ahead. But we also need caring primary care physicians. And putting them together in medical school will hopefully lead to a dialogue between them.
As I am thinking more about this, I might come up with more ideas. What would you wish to implement in the hospitals of the future? Read More
Blog: On Health. On Writing. On Life. On Everything.
Weighing In
June 21, 2010
How often should you jump on the scale?
For many years, I never recommended to patients to weigh themselves daily (first thing in the morning). The prevailing medical opinion was that weighing oneself triggered anxieties that might end in eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia.
Contrary to what I said to my patients, however, I have weighed myself my whole life (nearly) every morning – and have kept the same weight since age twelve. Except for pregnancies, gaining twenty pounds with my daughter, forty with my son. The difference? In both cases, relentless morning sickness. With my daughter, eating or even thinking of food made me throw up; with my son, eating calmed the sickness. During pregnancy, I did not care what I weighed and how I looked; all I cared was the baby I was expecting. So I followed my body’s whims and cravings. Including the incredible craving for a lobster at a very inconvenient time…
My body feels well only within a very tight margin: Two pounds less, and faintness grips me. Two pounds more, and stuffiness prevents me bending forward.
My personal weight story made me absolutely unacceptable for several overweight patients who stated that I had never been in their shoes and could therefore not advise them. I respect that view. But it would also mean that one can’t be a good doctor for a cancer patient if one didn’t have experience with the dreaded disease. Or could couldn’t treat a heart attack because … you are getting the idea. (On the other hand, the notion that better doctors come from personal experience with serious illness, is worth spinning out. The A+ nerds who populate our medical schools – half of them should be replaced with compassionate, common-sensical young men and women).
A study showed that people who weigh themselves more often also lost more weight. That takes this discussion beyond my personal story – and here it becomes interesting.
French women supposedly don't gain weight as they age. Which means if the scale tells them they have gained a pound or two, they take action. And responsibility. That might be part of the French Paradox - that the French live longer but eat more fat. Might be they eat fat - and then put in a salad day.
A scale is a reality check. If you want to avoid looking the facts in the face – your decision. I like to confront bad situations – weight gain, disease, divorce, death (why do nearly all adverse events start with a "d"?). That led me one time to lie down in a casket and pull the lid shut, just to see how it was. It was surprisingly peaceful. What I found out in the coffin: It was nothing to fear. Read More