Archive for September, 2009

LASSEN VOLCANIC NP, AUGUST 2009

September 10, 2009

Lassen was my 41st park.  From Tucson, I flew to Reno and drove to the Park, spending three days there.  The Mineral Lodge is a nice spot with good rooms, great food and a small store.  Being only 9 miles from the Park, it is close.  I found the southern half of the park more interesting, with Bumpass Hell, the Brokeoff, Lassen climbs, Mill Creek and the Summit Lakes region.  I do want to camp in the latter spot some day.  

During my stay, I hiked half way up Lassen, saw Bumpass Hell, hiked up Brokeoff, Mill Creek Falls and beyond and Summit Lakes loop.  It inspired the Medical Society column Two at Lassen on this blog.

ISLE ROYALE NP, MAY 2006

September 10, 2009

I went to Isle Royale in 2006.  Weather was frightful, but I saw a fox, 9 moose and had a wolf encounter in my campsite 10 miles from the nearest other person.  We got delayed 2 days on return because of weather.  And it was still a great trip.

ANWR 2008–KONGAKUT RIVER BASIN, DRAIN CREEK

September 10, 2009

These were among the best pictures of the 2008 ANWR trip.  (View the 2009 Aichilik River/Drain Creek/Kongakut River trip here.)  We flew from Fairbanks to Arctic Village, about 200 miles, some of us in a Cessna Grand Caravan, others flying directly into the Kongakut River via a Helio Courier.  The Courier came back to pick the rest of us up, and we flew over the Brooks Range (not by much!) about 90 miles east, into the Refuge, landing on a gravel bar on the Kongakut.  The plane left, and we had our first tussock experience as we hike about 1 1/2 miles west to our campsite.

Tussocks are part of the Alaskan hiking experience, along with game trails, fording streams, and occasional four footed creatures.  Tussocks are dangerous to step on, as they have a large top on a narrow stalk.  In between is some form of water/muck.

The second day, we hiked north over the divide from the Kongakut itself to one of its tributaries into Drain Creek.  We set up camp on a high bluff.  The following day, we went upstream to a rockfall by two small lakes, called “Maze Lakes,” due to the rockfall.  We worked our way through the rockfall, up over a hill and down a long unnamed stream to a junction with another, with rain threatening.  We stayed there the fourth night.

The next day it was back up stream, and then a long, steep climb to the top of a pass, where it was hoped we would stay at that altitude until it was time to descend to Drain Creek.  Alas, we had to descent first and then ascend, in snow, up to about 5000 feet, where we camped.  It is interesting to see how the water flows in day time and shuts down in the night and morning as snow and ice melt decreases.

Finally, we descended into Drain Creek, which I consider the “true ANWR”.  It has lovely green hill benches, black mountains on the north side called Bathtub Ridge.  We had a long day, ending up at the Mineral Lick, where we watched about 40 Dall sheep moving on a vertical rock face as easily as we walked (probably easier, since we dealt with tussocks.)  Since it was light 24 hours a day, we watched them as long as we wanted to.  So long as we didn’t get too close to the mineral lick, they weren’t too concerned about us.

The next day, we hiked to a knob on Drain Creek.  I camped on top of the knob, and the next morning, at about 5 a.m., saw a grizzly that had just moved through camp below.  It was thrilling!

We then hiked back up a tributary to the place where we had spent our second night and from there over the divide back to the Kongakut, where we were picked up the next day.  Thanks to Dave and Aaron Hamilton and ABEC Alaska!

LASSEN PARK SLIDES

September 9, 2009

STILL OUT THERE…WAITING

September 8, 2009

 It’s a bone chilling March morning in Korea, and the USS ST. LOUIS is off the southeastern coast, anchored at Pohang.  I’m finishing up in sick bay, having just seen my tenth case of gastroenteritis.  The last sailor told me word is spreading on board to stock up on absorbent paper products. 

Damn.  My goal was to get through the 8-month deployment without an epidemic.

I eventually learned we had distilled water from the harbor, violating Navy Regs, so we wouldn’t have to restrict water use or get underway to distill at sea.  I had questioned the Chief Engineer about our water supply and was assured we had plenty for the boilers and personal use.  I should have known better than to believe a snipe.

Several days and 300 cases later, an 80% attack rate, I was 10 pounds lighter, but the epidemic had finally “run” its course.  We were not fully mission prepared during that time.  To those who feel that funding military strength is more important than public health, I remind them that throughout history, disease has decimated military units and affected more troops than battle.

Many forget that Americans used to die from measles, cholera, typhus, rabies and tuberculosis.  Yellow fever devastated Memphis.  Malaria was as bad an enemy as the Japanese for the First Marine Division on Guadalcanal in 1942-43.  These diseases have not disappeared.  They are still out there, waiting,    waiting for us to let our guard down, to ignore the fact that the single biggest factor increasing our longevity has been improved public health.  We fortunately live in a society where many scourges are controlled – for now.

I remember how sick and photophobic I was with measles, which can kill one in a thousand.  A brother had polio; another mumps meningitis.  My father had tuberculosis; my mother scarlet fever and pertussis.  Americans used to fear crowds in summertime because of the risk of catching polio.  Today, these conditions make headlines; back then, they were “usual childhood diseases.”

Adjusted for inflation, Pima County has not increased public health funding in 15 years, despite a near doubling of population.  They are several employees under full staffing.  A bad economy not only decreases funding but increases demand, as un- and under employment increase.  Fees for immunizations, restaurant inspections, animal licensure, family planning, STD services and TB treatment will increase, because while such tests save money and misery, people now have short term,  more important concerns, like eating.  I predict more unwanted children, a food borne illness outbreak, increase in STDs, more unlicensed dogs and Arizona keeping its top ranking among the states for congenital syphilis.  I thought we were finished with that one. 

Immunization preventable diseases, HIV, MRSA, rabies and pandemic flu have no economic boundaries.  We take for granted no disease in the food we buy or in the restaurants we visit.  This is not a coincidence or the Eleventh Bill of Rights.  But we face a cut of $1.4 million from the local public health budget.  Cryptosporidium infected 400,000 in Milwaukee in 1993 and killed 100.  That bug is not restricted to Wisconsin; cholera is not restricted to Zimbabwe; bad lettuce not restricted to California; or bad peanuts to Georgia.  Lack of regulation kills people as well as making them unemployed and broke. 

Ten per cent of Pima County’s active TB cases are homeless, and we cannot afford to house them until they are non-infectious.  Nor can we afford to pay a radiologist to read their X-Rays.  Therefore, the number who complete therapy will decrease, fostering drug resistance and setting the stage for an outbreak, first in the homeless shelters, and from there, to the community — you and me.  Maybe people shouldn’t be homeless, but they are.  That’s reality.  Financial robber barons get bonuses for ruining the economy, TB and syphilis are making a comeback, and I feel I’m back in the 19th century. 

We must make public health a priority.  There’s a lot of bad stuff outside the walls of our civilization, waiting for us to open the gates.  And that’s exactly what will happen if we inadequately fund public health.  Sure, I believe in the value of arts and sports.  But adequate public health allows people to live long enough to become artists or play sports.  It’s time that the public learns that vaccines save many orders of magnitude (10n, where n is order) more lives than they possibly hurt.  And it is time that the public learns that many diseases aren’t prevalent today because of scientific advances in general and public health in particular, not good fortune, vibrations, touch therapy or magical thinking.

A strong public health commitment here in Arizona and across America is an important part of national security.  Tell the Supervisors public health funding saves money and lives.  The department is already severely stretched to where further cuts will impact our safety.  Tell them if we ignore the benefits that come from good public health, we will reap the consequences that will surely develop.  Count on it.  Tell them the human and dollar cost of those problems will be incomprehensible and not amenable to sending good vibes or touching each other. 

Count on that, too.

THE LEGEND

September 8, 2009

  The first time I canoed with the Forest Service’s Mike Manlove, in 1993, he informed me he was a legend.  I chuckled, but he soon proved it.  Two days, seven lakes and a river from town, we camped on the southeast corner of Lake Insula in the Boundary Waters, near the US-Canada border.  Well hidden back in the woods, there was a Forest Service cabin that few outside the organization knew about.  Mike stayed in the cabin; I pitched my tent on the nearby beach, not wanting cabin mice running over my sleeping bag or me during the night. 

That evening, I looked across the lake a mile and saw two large campfires burning near each other.  I walked up to the cabin and told Mike about the fires, saying I didn’t know that two campsites on Insula were so close together.  Mike was quiet, then: “There aren’t two campsites there.  Get the canoe ready.  Now.”

Mike realized there were two separate fires on one campsite, which was not allowed.  Fires may be built in only one designated place on each campsite.  Illegal fires are to the Forest Service what breaking sterile technique is to a surgeon.  We hopped into the canoe and paddled over there quickly.  The two of us could really move a canoe.  When we reached the campsite, Mike yelled at the two teenagers near the illegal beach fire, “Put that out.  Now!”

After I helped douse the fire, I walked to the main part of the campsite, where Mike lectured the couple about campfire safety.  The man knew the second fire was wrong, but this was the last family trip before the older child went off to college, a special time for any family.  He allowed himself to be convinced by, “Come on, Dad, let’s have a fire on the beach.  Nobody is camped anywhere near here, and there is no way the Forest Service will know about it.”  He shook his head:  “You guys came out of nowhere.  How did you know?” 

The Legend always knew.  That will be a $100 fine, sir.

Mike and I took 6 multiday canoe trips together on 30 different lakes, always with great adventures.  Few things bind people as being on the trail together, working hard in all sorts of weather.  I taught him how to suture; Mike was an experienced wildland firefighter who once allowed me to drive a huge water tanker at a controlled burn.  My instruction?  “Roll it and you die.”  Frequently, campers knew Mike, for he patrolled those lakes for 14 years.  We occasionally ticketed people for major rule violations, but Mike stayed calm and professional during the process.  Some got angry, stating they would never return to this country.  Later, out on the lake, Mike would laugh:  “Do you think the woods care whether they return?”  One June night, a monstrous thunderstorm complex hit northern Minnesota.  A large flash interrupted my dream, followed by a crack that made me jump six inches off the ground.  From Mike: “Are you awake?” 

Duh. 

We paddled Crooked Lake one day down to Curtain Falls in a 2 foot chop.  It was nothing that either of us had trouble handling, but the radio went off.  Mike listened, and then said, “Could you repeat that?”  There was a pause, and he said, “You want the serial number of the canoe, now?”  I stopped paddling, listening in disbelief.  With difficulty in the chop, I looked way up under the bow and got the serial number.  I had no idea why they needed it!

Later that afternoon, we passed a group of older guys going our way.  We got back to camp at the top of Friday bay and had dinner.  We were relaxing, and then Mike said, “Look who’s coming.”  Sure enough, it was the group of guys we had passed.  We knew there were no sites available down the lake, so they would either camp in a non-des (non-designated) site or move in with us.  We chose the latter, much as we liked our privacy.  They were grateful, we were entertained watching what appeared to be slow motion setting up camp and dinner.  Heaven only knows what time they went to bed; we were asleep I think before they finished dinner.  At least they were quiet.

The next morning, Mike asked me if I wanted to break camp and have breakfast on a nearby island.  I looked at one of the tents that had a large posterior pushing out the wall, and nodded assent.  We left.  Mike and I always had interesting trips!

In 2000, he was promoted to do educational and trail work that was known throughout Minnesota.  I continued to explore the Boundary Waters and the Canadian Quetico, and when in Ely always called and tried to stop by.  Occasionally Mike and his wife Becky were home, but when they weren’t, I left a note.  They lived in a lovely hand- built log cabin near a small lake deep in the woods, where they raised two good kids, Celin and Joseph.  Becky is an accomplished writer, social worker and now a Forest Service employee.  I first met Celin when she was 3; she immediately looked at me and said, “You’re a dork.”  She is now a real looker and getting her MSW at Bemidji State.  Joseph has a Ph.D. in math from Montana State.  I’m still a dork.  The family wasn’t wealthy, but they had no debts, either. 

I saw Mike and Becky in 2001 but not again until 2005, after a 5 day solo trip into Kawnipi Lake on the Canadian side, a beautiful lake I wanted to see again, while I still could. 

Two years ago, I went to Ely to present a scholarship for Vermilion Community College.  I drove up the Echo Trail to Manlove’s cabin and was lucky; both Mike and Becky were home.  We had a great visit, talking about past trips and Forest Service politics, always entertaining, since I knew many of the players.  When I left, Mike hugged me, which he had never done before, and said, “It was really good to see you.  I’m so glad you came by.”  I was too.

A week later, while hiking with his dog on the Bass Lake trail near his cabin, Mike sat down on the forest floor.  That’s where he was found a day later, dead of a heart attack just before he turned 53.

Don’t think that you will always have time to do the things you want or to tell people things you want them to hear.  Friendship takes work and time.  Take that time, even if your friends don’t.  They might say, “It was really good to see you.”  I don’t have many friends, and I really miss Mike.  I’m so glad I stopped in that night.

He was a legend.

FREE FALL

September 8, 2009

Colton had a bad week: Tuesday, his girlfriend moved out.  Wednesday, the mines laid him off.

No question that Colton and his now ex-girlfriend, too young and unmarried, never should have bought a house together.  Colton was a high school dropout who eventually got his GED, but his money managing skills were poor.  He once bought a dirt bike because he read “monthly payment of $68” and didn’t read “for 5 years.”  He finally sold it for a large loss.

Colton’s mother told me how his buying a house would be good, since he wouldn’t “throw money away on rent,” would “build equity” and other platitudes pushed by the industry (beginning with “home,” instead of “house.”)  I knew that if everything worked perfectly, which it wouldn’t, Colton was headed for trouble.

I suspect he did not realize additional costs of ownership, like insurance, taxes, utilities and repairs.  I suspect that he didn’t appreciate that $4 a pound copper wouldn’t last, and when the price fell, his job would be in jeopardy.

We bought our house in 1977, after renting for six years in three different places.  Flexibility is a big advantage of renting.  Back then, down payments were 20%.  Our combined take home pay was four times the fixed monthly payment, a good rule of thumb, and we had job security.  Colton’s foreclosure will help keep Arizona among the nation’s leaders in that category, typical of places where the major industry is the unsustainable concept of permanent growth.  But when you live where individual rights trump common sense and education is an afterthought, foreclosure rates are among the nation’s highest and there is a payday lending problem.  Maybe that is why Arizona leads the nation in congenital syphilis cases.  I can’t prove it, but we probably have more than our share of animal hoarders and breeders, too.  The irony is how much these individual rights cost each of us, like the right to implant eight embryos in a woman with several young children or having another motorcycle accident victim in the ED who had no helmet and no insurance.

Colton had neither the education nor the judgment to buy a house.  One cannot understand finance without knowing how to manipulate numbers, but I’m repeating myself.  While he was childless, he moved back with his parents and will file bankruptcy.  I recently saw a bumper sticker on a giant Lexus SUV:  “Fight Socialism, show personal responsibility.”  Even as America under a Republican president embraced corporate welfare.  But the rich are different.  Just ask them.

Not all of us have personal connections, smarts, personality or luck to have scads of money to own such a vehicle.  While some of the poor are drunk and lazy, many are hard working folk whose only crime is not being young.  But most are women and children, ironic in a country that purportedly values the latter, ranking high in the developed world in birth rate and teen pregnancies, the last especially true in Arizona.  Individual rights and lack of education win again.

But let’s be clear:  Colton didn’t cause the financial catastrophe that in dollars is at least 400 9/11s.  Yes, 400.  I believe the financial community and politicians are guilty of treason for this largely preventable mess.  We had poorly understood financial instruments like credit default swaps, rampant speculation and gambling in what may have been a $60 trillion unregulated market.  Businesses like Enron, World Com and Tyco outright lied; loans were given to people to buy houses they couldn’t afford in a clearly overvalued unregulated “free” market.  Executives received obscene bonuses, perverting etymology, with tax dollars.  As a mathematician, I am ashamed at my colleagues who created models that failed to account for the possibility that housing prices could fall and incredulous that senior executives would believe them.  But that’s what happens when we base financial policy on ideology, rather than reality.  I hear the stock market “always goes up,” based on all of six decades’ experience applied to an America that today is a lot less productive of tangible goods than it was when I was Colton’s age.

My late mother, despite being a sociology teacher and an unabashed Adlai Stevenson liberal, often said “people are no damn good.”  If people did what they were supposed to, instead of being no damn good, we wouldn’t need regulation, for everybody would act appropriately, sometimes even against their economic self-interest.  If people were perfect, practically any system would succeed.

I find it hypocritical that many who decry the nanny state remain silent about financiers who put the world economy in free fall and now get free money and a free pass.  Those of us who are fortunate in life have some responsibility to those less fortunate.  The responsibility may not be financial but rather saying “no” at the proper time.  We used do that before the free market, free rides and free fall.  I believe in capitalism, but the idea that people will invariably behave properly without somebody occasionally reining them in is ludicrous, unrealistic and contrary to human behavioral science.  Heck, anybody who ever attended a MEC meeting should know that.

I just wish Colton had rented.

LASSEN VOLCANIC NP SLIDE SHOW

September 7, 2009

FULL THREE PARTS ON THE LASSEN VOLCANIC NP PAGE

TUCSON CITIZEN OP-ED 3/07

September 6, 2009

Tucson Citizen op-ed 3/07

AFTER ALL, THESE THINGS HAPPEN

September 6, 2009

 A 52 year-old woman lies in extremis in ICU following a gastric perforation discovered after contrast is put through an NG tube. So what?  These things happen.  Yep, they sure do.  Here’s how this particular one happened. 

The woman had an Upper GI four months earlier showing a paraesophageal hernia, where the esophagus went through the diaphragm inferiorly and the stomach went through superiorly.  This isn’t good.  While the report mentioned the hernia, it didn’t mention its prediposition to gastric volvulus.  While one can’t mention every possibility in a report, it might have been useful to mention this particular fact. 

Four months later, the woman presented with abdominal pain.  Her initial CT of the abdomen and pelvis mentioned the hernia and an ovarian cyst, but no comment was made about gastric distention or the type of hiatal hernia.  Unfortunately, the prior study wasn’t re-evaluated during the reading.  That was unfortunate, but many studies today contain a thousand images; indeed, a radiologist may encounter 100,000 images a day.  An NG tube was passed, and a second scan, with contrast, showed the perforation – really well.  Fatigue, the volume of images, hospital and referring physician demand for quick reads, compensation for number of studies (not images) viewed, make errors more possible.  Reviewing past studies is not compensated, so their may be a tendency not to do so.  What do clinicians do if they receive a huge chart when a new patient arrives, inconveniently booked into a follow up slot?  Compensation is based on a numbers game; what game is played dictates what gets done well, what gets done, and what doesn’t.  Having been on both sides of the medical fence, I can easily spot a distracted, harried and hurried physician.  All three of these are a setup for cognitive errors, the single biggest type of mistake a physician can make.

The patient developed peritonitis.  Perhaps if fewer CT scans were ordered, it would be easier to routinely evaluate prior studies as part of the reading process.  Once having practiced neurology, I believe, and the literature supports, a person with intact cortical function, no neck pain, no tenderness to palpation and no neurological deficit doesn’t need a cervical spine CT after an injury.  Whole body scans are often done when clinical judgment would suffice.  Besides being a radiation issue, it is a time issue affecting emergency department throughput (we patients call it waiting), a money issue, because these studies are expensive, and a quality of care issue.  After my bicycle accident, I had several studies, but nobody took off my shirt to look at the road rash on my back.  Nobody palpated my entire body, since severe pain in one place may mask a significant injury elsewhere.  Those additions take perhaps thirty seconds.

Worse, if there is little clinical history provided, often the case, it affects the type of study and the radiologist’s approach.  Differentiating PE from dissection makes a big difference in timing of the scan after contrast.  “Chest Pain” is not helpful to the radiologist.  Yes, you are in a hurry.  I was too.  But I always put clinical information on my neuroimaging requests.  The radiologists appreciated it.  I got better reports.  It helped my patients. 

This woman survived.  The medical community ought to learn from this, rather than copping out and saying “these things happen,” “nobody’s perfect,” or “who made you the quality expert?”  “Nobody’s perfect” doesn’t cut it if a person dies from something preventable, either in or out of medicine.  You don’t hear the civilian or military aviation community say that.  They learn from the mistakes, and they publicize them.  Read a few sometime, and you would be surprised how much we could take away from their field, rather than the mantra, “We’re doctors.  We’re different.” 

Rheumatic fever, polio and gas gangrene used to happen; auto accidents once killed twice as many people per capita, anesthesia deaths were once far more common.  Sean Elliott and Alonzo Mourning would have died from uremia the way actress Jean Harlow did. 

Excessive workload increases the likelihood of a radiologist’s not reviewing past studies and not dictating, “Paraesophageal hernias can lead to gastric volvulus.”  What does workload do to you in your field?  There ought to be a way that physicians can do a decent job, make decent money, learn from their mistakes and those of others, have a life and not fear lawsuits.  Here are a few thoughts: 

It’s time we had community standards for common, high risk procedures that lend themselves to standardization, like hyperalimentation, ventilator management, pre-op antibiotic delivery and central lines.  We can standardize and still respect individual differences.  It’s time disciplines who function together, like emergency medicine and radiology, work together.  It’s time to have legislation mandating a free from discovery error reporting system which I proposed in 2001 and which failed the legislature in 2004 and 2005; AzHHA killed it.  It’s time to have liability reform, so physicians aren’t treated like criminals when they err.  Maybe if we did the first two and supported the third, we could get the fourth.  Along the way, we might additionally work towards complete medical coverage for childhood up to at least age 18 – with real-time data on outcomes and costs.  We might start having a better system.  Maybe we could expand age 18 to all. 

And perhaps see fewer cases of preventable peritonitis.