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The who, what, when, where, and why of Cochrane

By e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

Cochrane logo – it’s a forest plot

If you’ve been paying attention, you know that yours truly got the chance to attend the annual Cochrane Colloquium in Edinburgh in September this year, thanks to a travel stipend from SPM, a #PatientsIncluded bursary from Cochrane UK, the hosts of the 2018 Colloquium, and a stipend from the NHS for the #BeyondTheRoom project to help cover the event for the global audience.

And I’m sure there are a good number of you who are still thinking, “That’s great, but what the heck is Cochrane? And how did they get to be the ones running the ‘Hogwarts Sorting Hat’ of global medical evidence?” Forgive me, but I’m a comedy writer, and that breaks through from time to time, no matter how hard I try to stifle it. Anyway, Cochrane is named for a Scottish doctor, Archibald Leman “Archie” Cochrane, who wrote “Effectiveness and Efficiency: Random Reflections on Health Services” (the link will let you download the whole book in PDF) in 1972.

Archie Cochrane advocated for randomized clinical trials (RCTs) for, well, everything – treatments, practice methods, research protocols, an “all of the things” approach, on a loop – which was not how medicine was being practiced under the prevailing “doctor knows best” practice model in place across the globe. “The art of medicine to preserve autonomy, the science of medicine to preserve authority” rules pointed out by many people seeking to make medical science more science than “because it’s how I do things” – those rules have been snarked at by both your correspondent, and Dr. Al Mulley at Dartmouth, among a host of others.

Archie Cochrane influenced the thinking, and practice, of many other clinicians with his thought leadership on practice variation, practice standardization, and the use of RCTs to fine tune medical science. One of the people he influenced was Iain Chalmers, who, in 1993, founded the Cochrane Collaboration in Archie Cochrane’s memory. Here’s a graf from “A brief history of Cochrane”:

“The Cochrane Collaboration was founded in 1993, a year after the establishment of the UK Cochrane Centre in Oxford, UK. The UK Cochrane Centre arose from a vision to extend a ground-breaking programme of work by Iain Chalmers and colleagues in the area of pregnancy and childbirth to the rest of health care. Inspired by Archie Cochrane’s claim that “It is surely a great criticism of our profession that we have not organised a critical summary, by specialty or subspecialty, adapted periodically, of all relevant randomised controlled trials” (Cochrane 1979), Chalmers and colleagues developed the Oxford Database of Perinatal Trials and a series of systematic reviews published in Effective Care in Pregnancy and Childbirth (Chalmers 1989). The database became a regularly updated electronic publication in 1989, developed into Cochrane Pregnancy and Childbirth Database in early 1993, and formed the basis of the broader Cochrane Database of Systematic Reviews (CDSR), launched in 1995. Work on a handbook to support authors of Cochrane Reviews had begun in 1993, and the first version was published in May 1994. Over its first 20 years, Cochrane has grown from an initial group of 77 people from nine countries who met at the first Cochrane Colloquium in Oxford in 1993 to over 31,000 contributors from more than 120 countries in 2015, making it the largest organization involved in this kind of work (Allen 2006; Allen 2007; Allen 2011). Cochrane is now an internationally renowned initiative (Clarke 2005; Green 2005).”

Since 1993 – only 25 years – Cochrane has spread across the globe, with centers on every populated continent:

Cochrane UK (and their Evidently Cochrane blog, which is terrific)

Cochrane Canada

Cochrane Nigeria

Cochrane Australia (also supporting emerging networks in Indonesia and the Philippines)

Cochrane Japan

Cochrane Chile (hosting the Cochrane Colloquium global meeting in 2019 in Santiago)

The above list is just a sampling – and you may notice that there’s somebody missing. Yes, I’m looking at you, USA. The US did have a Cochrane Center home based at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, but that closed in February 2018. For now, the best we’ve got is the Cochrane US West Center at Oregon Health and Science University in Portland, Oregon. But that’s a story for another blog post.

On the e-patient front, Cochrane has some terrific stuff on tap. They have a vibrant global consumer presence, via the Cochrane Consumer Network, and a ground-breaking new global citizen science project, Cochrane Crowd, where anyone can take part in the research synthesis process. The Crowd platform provides all the training anyone might need to be able to participate in assessing RCTs and studies, after completing it you’ll be ready to go, sifting through studies and trials to separate the good science from the questionable and not-reproducible stuff.

Cochrane popped up on my radar screen sometime in the last decade or so, during the time that I was scrambling to get on top of managing my parents’ care in the last few years of their lives. It came in handy as I was sifting through my decision tree during cancer treatment ten years ago, and as I’ve become more and more interested in killing off quackery and over-, under-, and mis-treatment in medicine in my work as a citizen science activist and ground-level health policy wonk. If you’re interested in the same things, join the party. We’re all in this together, and Cochrane can help us move the needle toward what I call “Goldilocks medicine” – the right treatment for the right patient, at the right time – at a faster rate.

This post originally appeared on the Society for Participatory Medicine blog

Patients are Pigs? Wow. Thanks, Medrio!

By cancer, e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

The infographic below popped up in my Twitter feed when an e-patient colleague from the multiple sclerosis community tagged me with a “what the HELL is this!?!” … and the excrescence below.

Let me set the scene for you – this is digital collateral from a software company, Medrio, that on its website landing page says it provides “simple, fast, and affordable tools for the collection of data in clinical trials.” It appears that the company is all about the cartoon animals, since they’ve got a cartoon cat in a lab coat welcoming you to their digital litter box domain. It also appears that Medrio is happy to think of clinical trial subjects – you know, the ones called “patients,” or, alternatively, “people” – as sus scrofa. If you don’t speak Latin, that’s the species classification for … PIGS.

This points up a pernicious, perpetual problem in too many precincts in healthcare. People/patients are seen either as dumb – possibly even dumb animals – and treated with the same level of respect. It’s not often, though, that an organization that actually thinks of patients this way fully uncloaks, and shows their wrong-headedness in full color.

OK, you’ve waited long enough. The infographic I’m talking about is pasted below. PLEASE make some very loud noise online, show the world that this jerkbaggery will not stand.

medrio patient-pigs infographic

Triple aim shoots wide, film at 11?

By e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

triple aim logoPaul Levy, the former CEO of Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, put up a post last week saying that the Triple Aim – improving population health, improving the experience of care, improving per capita healthcare cost – was poorly aimed, and totally missing its “make healthcare better” mark. It’s a chewy, tasty read, with an even chewier and tastier thread of comments.

The money shot for me: “the real battles over power, money, customer choice, and cost” are indeed still happening far, far away from the point of care, and compromising the patient’s experience, the community’s health, and the ability to control spiraling costs. Of the three legs of the Triple Aim stool, the cost piece is the biggest barrier to its implementation.

Can you think of any US industry that would willingly transform itself outta $1T+ in revenue per year?

That’s the ultimate economic outcome of the Triple Aim, and I can hear and feel the resistance of the medical-industrial complex to ending their arms race toward “market dominance” via daVinci systems, proton beam facilities, soaring marble lobbies, and equally soaring temples full of hospital beds … when what we really need is hundreds (thousands?) of small clinics across the landscape helping people get or stay healthy via great primary care, not tertiary hospital resurrections.

Payers and big health systems, EHR vendors, policy wonks all negotiate over the patient’s supine form (and the heads of most clinicians, to be fair) to determine how to divide up the $3T+/year their arms race serves up.

Do we have a prayer of Triple Aim in this landscape? I dunno, but I’m fighting a ground war alongside my patient-side band of guerilla compatriots to see if we can drive some revolution from the grassroots. ‘Cause the folks in suits ain’t moving fast enough toward change.

Advocacy, trolls, and threats – oh, my!

By e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

womens-trollsSpending one’s days on the advocacy beat out here on the Wild Wild Web can be hugely rewarding. Like, say, when you start getting recognized by organizations like the WHO as a strong voice for people-who-are-patients.

Then there are the days when you get called f***ing a**hole by strangers for simply speaking up.

This is not a unique problem for patient advocates – this happens to anyone who speaks up in service of changing a cultural norm. Just ask MLK, who was trolled by none other than the FBI, who told him he should just kill himself. Imagine the fun the FBI could have had on Facebook, if MLK vs. FBI on Facebook had been a possible-thing in 1964.

It can happen in the e-patient game, too, as shown in the Bill Keller/Emma Gilbey Keller/Lisa Bonachek Adams/NY Times dustup over whether or not patient blogs, particularly those about cancer, are TMI (Too Much Information – translation: “ew, gross”).

Just being a woman online (guilty as charged) can be enough to draw the gimlet eye, and ire, of a mob of trolls. The #gamergate mess – if you click that link, pack a lunch, a raincoat, and some serious antibiotics – is an example of that.

I recently tripped over a compelling piece on the Guardian’s site. The piece, by Lindy West, was about how she had been hard-trolled by someone who had gone so far as to create a Twitter handle that mimicked Lindy’s recently dead father, who she grieved for deeply. And who used that Twitter handle to troll her about her stance on rape threats.

My dad was special. The only thing he valued more than wit was kindness. He was a writer and an ad man and a magnificent baritone (he could write you a jingle and record it on the same day) – a lost breed of lounge pianist who skipped dizzyingly from jazz standards to Flanders and Swann to Lord Buckley and back again – and I can genuinely say that I’ve never met anyone else so universally beloved, nor do I expect to again. I loved him so, so much. ~ Lindy West

Lindy West is no stranger to the experience of being trolled. She’s a prolific, funny writer who’s talked openly about being a fat girl at the gym, about the toxicity of the “men’s rights movement,” about sexuality, about comedy … the girl’s got content. And trolls love to gang up on women on the web.

So put yourself in the place of a young woman, who recently lost her beloved dad, who suddenly finds a stranger co-opting her dad’s name and image, and then aiming threats of physical violence at her via the handy-dandy trolling tool known as The Internet.

What made this piece stand out was the payoff – after she shared on Jezebel.com how much this Twitter troll had wounded her by making rape jokes, and threats, using a handle whose avatar was a photo OF. HER. DAD. … she heard via email from the troll himself. I won’t put any spoilers here, because I want you to read the piece yourself. And maybe even listen to the recent This American Life episode that features a story about Lindy + the Troll.

My point? I think Lindy’s right – feed the trolls until they explode. Advocacy requires disturbing the status quo, which risks some serious pushback from those who are in that status quo’s driver’s seat. Ask any woman who’s blazed a trail outside “the woman’s place” – Boudicea, Susan B. Anthony, Golda Meir, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell – what it’s like to take on the boy Mafia status quo. Push for change, and be aware you’ll need all the ordnance you can muster.

Because what the haters really want is for us to shut up. What trolls want is our silence. We have to meet that with a serious, and steady, “THAT’S. NOT. OK.” chorus.

Advocacy, trolls, and threats – oh, my!

Human Health. It’s . . . Human.

By e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

Guess who got invited to WHO? No, really.

The World Health Organization (WHO) invited yours truly to its First Global Experts’ Consultation in service of building a WHO framework for patient and family engagement. This is all due to my part in the ongoing anvil chorus that is the new Patient & Family Engagement Roadmap, developed by a group of dedicated folks from all parts of the healthcare compass over the last couple years, with funding from the Gordon & Betty Moore Foundation.

WHO_signsI spent just over two days in Geneva, most of the time head-down in discussions about how the global health system – a patchwork of services delivered by an even patchwork-ier cadre of healthcare delivery systems – can better serve the needs of the people/patients who seek medical care and health information from them.

This post will not attempt to report everything I saw/heard/thought/felt in that jam-packed 16 hours of ideas and outlooks. What I’ll share is my perspective on the challenges, the opportunities, the pitfalls, and the hopes that – in my view, at least – emerged during that lightning round of global spitballing.

CHALLENGES

There’s an old joke that asks, “What’s an elephant?” The answer: “A mouse designed by a government committee.”

That’s the risk, and challenge, to any attempt to build a definable set of standards for a human effort. Education, transportation, trade, infrastructure, communication, medicine – all require some sort of standardization to make them useful to more than one or two people huddled over a campfire. A study of history will show that as much as we humans are great idea generators, trying to get the rest of the tribe to adopt our new idea isn’t easy.

The father of quantum mechanics, Max Planck, said it best: “A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it.” To paraphrase: Science advances one funeral at a time.

Medicine, which has been practiced for millennia by magical beings initiated into secrets of “science” that could not be understood by the common human, has only become understandable to the average Joe and/or Jane as public education has become available across the globe. Public education still isn’t available everywhere, and the character and content of that education can be complicated by cultural views of science, of the education of women, and other factors that impact access to information.

So the challenges I see here are two-fold:

  • Calcified thinking in power structures, both scientific and political.
  • Lack of science education and information access in the wider population.

That’s true in developed nations – just witness the “science denial” movement in the US that stubbornly insists on not being confused with facts on issues like climate change or human reproduction – as well as in emerging nations that are still building basic infrastructure.

OPPORTUNITIES

Well, let’s start with who was in the WHO-room. Clinicians, policy wonks, and healthcare advocates from Uganda, India, Canada, Ecuador, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Belgium, Ireland, the UK, the US, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Thailand, Australia, China, and Malaysia, along with a wide array of WHO folks from their Geneva HQ as well as a robust representation of their Western Pacific Region Office (WPRO). WHO’s Envoy for Patient Safety Sir Liam Donaldson (that link is to his Twitter feed, which I highly recommend) was actively engaged in every part of the discussion over the two days, and I was deeply encouraged by his clear insights into the issues we’re all wrestling with in transforming the global healthcare system.

The story that had the biggest impact on me was the one told by Dr. Jonás Gonseth, head of Hospital de Especialidades in Guayaquil, Ecuador. His experience was one that I think spotlights the core problem: lack of trust in the care delivery system by the people that system purportedly serves. I wish I had a link to the video he shared, which clearly showed the lack of trust that the Ecuadoran people had in their healthcare system. Demonstrations outside the hospital, intercut with a number of clips that included a patient on a gurney being rolled toward the hospital door who got dumped on his head when the gurney tipped over as the dweeb hauling it couldn’t figure out how to get it over a curb … you get the picture.

Dr. Gonseth was asked (begged?) by the President of Ecuador to tackle the mess that was the Guayaquil Hospital de Especialidades. In just over two years, he’s worked what could be called miraculous change in quality improvement and patient safety, largely by advocating for community social participation in that work, and for patient empowerment. He’s transformed the culture inside the hospital, and the level of community trust in the care delivered by that hospital. The money quote: “It was such a disaster we had nothing to lose [by involving patients].”

What that story told me is that grassroots frustration with healthcare systems is a global issue, one that was made clear by all the from-the-ground presentations over the two days. That leads me to the opportunities here, which are shared by both developed and emerging countries:

  • “Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” That quote from Arthur Ashe makes it clear that any – ALL – of us can work on healthcare system transformation. So let’s get this party started.
  • Transformation does not happen from the top down. There does need to be a leader, but a successful leader will more likely come from outside the system needing the transformation.

That calcified-thinking challenge I mentioned above presents a solid opportunity to those of us on the ground, working to transform the system. Designing from the outside in is a software development approach that focuses on satisfying the needs of the end user. Healthcare systems *must* look at system transformation from that perspective: start with the people you’re serving, not with the folks running the hospital/professional society/medical association. The people being served – THE PATIENTS – are the end-user stakeholders.

PITFALLS

There’s much inertia confronting transformation of a massive human system like healthcare delivery. It’s exhausting if you look at it as a “system,” but since it is a system, any action has to be considered in the context of what sort of dominoes – or dynamite – that action might trigger. Plus, attempts at transforming bureaucratic process lead to what I’m going to call Donaldson’s Dictum (in honor of Sir Liam Donaldson, who said it): “Ability to simplify bureaucratic complexity draws heavy fire from the bureaucrats who create that complexity.”

And then there’s the elephant in every room: the money. Whatever the economic basis is for the healthcare delivery system in question, getting quality improvement and patient safety into the budget is a daunting task. Dr. Jonás Gonseth effected his hospital transformation in Ecuador without any increase in budget, but I wonder how much heavy lifting he had to do to sell his ideas to the bureaucrats? Since he’d been asked by the country’s President to take charge and fix a major mess, that might have gotten him through the first week. But transformation at this level takes months and years, so figuring out where the money’s gon’ come from is critically important.

So, in short:

  • Is there a budget for real system transformation?
  • Is there enough political will to allow that transformation to occur?

HOPES

Health_Care_is_a_Right_Not_a_PrivilegeWhen it comes to complex systems thinking, I’m a simple creature. I believe that the more complex the system you’re looking at gets, the more you have to go right down to the molecular level to regain perspective.

If you’re trying to end a disease like polio, you have to start where Jonas Salk did: with the virus itself. If you’re trying to create a healthcare system that delivers human health, you have to start with … the people who are seeking health care. June Boulger, Ireland’s National Lead for Patient and Public Involvement in Healthcare, said the overarching message of her work is “people helping people.”

When I took the mic to make a comment on Monday afternoon, I told everyone in the room to run right back to the ground level whenever they got too “system”-y in their thinking or their approach to quality improvement, delivery improvement, and/or patient safety.

Design from the outside in, begin with the end in mind, “start where you are, use what you have, do what you can,” lather, rinse, repeat.

That’s my entire philosophy of healthcare system transformation in one sentence.

Let’s get this party started.

Myriad Finds a Myriad of Ways to be Total Trolls

By cancer, e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

As the author of a rabble-rousing call to action, with a heavy dose of humor, on managing medical care called Cancer for Christmas, I have some street cred on both cancer and on dealing with tough personal health conversations over a Christmas standing rib roast dinner.

My hair has been on fire since I heard that Myriad Genetics had patented genes, back in the previous millennium. First, how in the pluperfect f^ck is a naturally-occurring part of the human body – microscopic or not – patentable?? Second, why is a commercial enterprise allowed to dictate scientific research at a university? If they’re funding it … maybe. If they’re trying to prevent it from moving forward? What. The. F^CK? I expect crass commercialism at Walmart. When it comes to cancer research, a primary profiteering motive should be a capital offense. Yep, off with their heads, baby.

It recently came to my attention, thanks to my buddy BraveBosom‘s tip-off …

… that the trolls at Myriad Genetics are up to newer, stinkier tricks: “helping” us make cancer a holiday centerpiece!

Hey, Myriad, here’s a tip: WE DON’T TRUST YOU. You’re trolls. Support from you? I’d sooner eat dinner with Hannibal Lecter.

If you haven’t heard of Myriad Genetics, here’s the Cliff’s Notes version:

  • Founded in Salt Lake City in 1992 by, among other names, a Nobel Prize winner in chemistry, Walter Gilbert
  • In 1997, Myriad is granted a patent on BRCA1 (one of two genes that indicate high risk of breast and ovarian cancer)
  • In 1998, Myriad is granted a patent on BRCA2 (2nd of two breast cancer risk genes)
  • BRCAnalysis, the company’s genetic test for breast cancer risk, costs $4,000 (you can get an entire genomic sequence for less than that – the Myriad test only looks at two genes!)
  • Myriad hits research institutions with cease and desist letters to prevent their research into BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes as patent infringement (it seems they think your genes are their intellectual property)
  • The Association for Molecular Pathology files suit, challenging Myriad’s BRCA1 and BRCA2 patents
  • June 13, 2013: the Supreme Court rules against Myriad, saying that human genes are not patentable
  • Myriad starts to press legal action against other genetics companies, alleging trade secrets infringement (pre-SupCo-decision story here, post-decision story here)

With me so far? OK.

Yo, MySupport360 – your “support” would cost me how much, exactly? My liver, with some fava beans? The sticker price of an Escalade? The entire contents of my 401(k)? Given your track record for bottom-lining other people’s health risks, why the French-pressed f^ck should we trust you on anything, much less guiding health-related conversations with our families?

Your invitation to “talk about genetic testing” with our families over Christmas dinner … hell, we’d HAVE to serve up a bottomless flagon of nice Chianti to get through it, given that the “talk” (following your paradigm) would wind up with us wanting to clap a restraint mask on the faces of everyone behind MySupport360. ‘Cause sure as shootin’ you’d be picking our pockets all the way.

How much more powerful it would be if you followed the rising call for open science, backed by notable minds from 2012 ISEF Prize winner Jack Andraka to 2013 Nobel Prize in medicine winner Randy Schekman.

So get off your Scrooge train for Christmas, will ya? You low-down, dirty, rotten trolls.

cheezburger scrooge image

“Patients included.” On ‘roids. In a good way.

By e-patients, healthcare industry, participatory medicine

medicinex regina holliday painting

I had the great good fortune of being tagged as an ePatient Scholar for the 2013 edition of Stanford Medicine X. That allowed me to sit at the feet – literally, since the ePatients were the mosh-pit for the three day conference plenary stage – of some of the best and brightest minds in healthcare. And guess what? Many of those best/brightest were … PATIENTS.

patients included logo

(c) Lucien Engelen

MedicineX (a/k/a MedX and #medx) is the uber Patients Included medical conference. It grew from seeds planted at conferences like Health 2.0 and Patients 2.0, for which seeds-to-beautiful-flowers gardener credit goes to Dr. Larry Chu and his team from Stanford Anesthesiology AIM Lab, who seem to prestidigitate rabbits out of hats without breaking a sweat. Or the hats. Or the rabbits.

MedX – in my opinion, at least – trumps every other Patients Included event by not just including patients, but by putting them front and center throughout the program. In fact, I cannot think of a session that I attended that didn’t have someone who was there primarily as a customer of healthcare (commonly called “a patient”) on the platform, presenting or participating in a panel discussion.

My ePatient socks were knocked off from jump thanks to the opening keynote by Michael Seres and Marion O’Connor on “The New Engaged Patient,” which was the morning keynote on Friday. Michael uses his blog as his personal health record, up to and through a lifetime battle with Crohn’s disease that led to his becoming the 11th patient to ever receive a bowel transplant, and only the 6th to survive that transplant experience. Michael is hilarious, and Marion is exactly the sort of caring brainiac any patient would like bedside as s/he battled a life-threatening illness. Here’s the video of their session:

The rest of the day played out as a firehose of ePatient awesome, including the first presenter to bring me to tears: Sara Riggare, a brilliant woman who is, among many other things, an engineer and a Parkinson’s patient. During the panel discussion on “The Self-Tracking Patient,” and my (somewhat sobby) conversation with Sara afterward, was when I fully realized, even though I’d talked about it last year on one of my blogs, that I had been born an ePatient. Well, maybe not born, but them that brung me into the world also brought me to ePatient-cy. I felt my late father, whose Parkinson’s laid him low, and then to rest, over 10 years ago, standing by me as I listened to Sara talk about her own self-tracking and self-advocacy. My dad was a warrior – literally, a US Navy fighter pilot – and brought that warrior spirit to his battle with Parkinson’s. I’d like to think that Big Mike would be proud of the work I do today to bring sense, and sensibility, to the most human of all sciences: medicine.

The Friday sessions ended with a “What If Healthcare …” panel discussion, conveniently tagged for the Twitter-verse as #whatifhc (click that link for a Symplur transcript of the conversation as it unfolded live). This session is the only one that pressed my buttons in a not-good way, and here’s why: there were a group of white-dude brainiacs, and one not-a-white-dude, on that panel. Don’t get me wrong, I like white dudes. Hell, I’ve married two of ’em (NOT at the same time!). But I found it sort of anachronistic that, as the “dream big” panel on the first day of a Patients Included medical conference on the campus of a major medical school (Stanford Med), the participants on that panel were so very white-dude, with the notable exception of healthcare artist/activist Regina Holliday. Regina herself mentioned the very-not-diverse makeup of the panel during the session. I made the observation on Twitter, as I listened to the panel’s conversation, that healthcare in the US is a great wealth-transfer system … but as a health-transfer system?

Saturday opened with something for which I was utterly unprepared: hearing first-hand about the project that won the 2012 Intel ISEF PrizeJack Andraka is the 16 year old kid from Baltimore who, at 13, decided that not having a reliable early-detection test for pancreatic cancer was a terrible thing. He resolved to create that test … and he did. It’s been patented in the US, and is in the process of being patented globally. Here’s the first-look video of his hilarious and inspiring call to action for open science:

Frankly, I count hearing that talk, and meeting Jack later that day at the MedX reception on the Dean’s Lawn, as the highest high point of my MedX experience. I told Jack that I couldn’t wait to see what he did next, but that even if he decided to rest on his uber-science-geek laurels with his mesothelin discovery, he’d given a gift to humanity unlike any other since Jonas Salk. Visit his website to keep track of this approachable, funny, huge-hearted young man who has the mind of a god.

The other big high of my MedX time was finally – FINALLY – being in the room with all three of the women who birthed #BCSM, one of the most powerful healthcare communities on Twitter. My ePatient journey may have been started by the voyage with my parents through their health issues, but it was forged into hardened steel by my own breast cancer experience. Connecting with Alicia Staley was one of the things that helped turn my book, Cancer for Christmas, into an Amazon bestseller in ’09. I spent much of the conference touching base with the #BCSM crew, who were in attendance in force at MedX. It was #BCSM Summer Camp!

The conference closed on Sunday with a keynote by Vinod Khosla, “2025: 20% Doctor Included?” Khosla’s viewpoint – which I share – is that technology will provide more reliable and efficient diagnostic tools, removing the mis-diagnosis risk that leads to most medical errors. He also stated that transformation of the healthcare system will not happen from within. Khosla backed up his positions with evidence, and I was nodding so hard in agreement I risked whiplash. It was the perfect close for the epic firehose of forward-thinking that was MedX 2013. Here’s the first-look video of Khosla’s talk:

What will I remember most about my MedX experience? I’ve listed some of it above, but even as I write this post I realize how much more mental food was served up during those three days. There were the conversations that happened over coffee, during lunch, with a frosty beverage in the Sheraton bar. I met people I’d known online for years, but had not had the opportunity to hug and thank for the impact they’d had on my life until MedX put us in the same room.

The Honor Roll there (in totally random order):

The list of people who I had not known before MedX, and who literally blew me away with their heart and insight? Here’s another random list:

And the amazeballs of awesome that is Zöe Chu:

zoe chu photo

4

What did I learn at MedX? I learned that there’s hope. Hope for healthcare, hope for humanity, and hope for every single person who winds up a patient (and hey, we’re all patients, right?). The key is that medicine is a team sport. It requires the full participation of everyone in every health-related transaction.

So pick up your ball, and let’s play together, shall we?

HOW MUCH DOES IT COST TO GET IRRETRIEVABLY PISSED OFF?

By healthcare industry, healthcare price transparency, participatory medicine

Nothing. It’s free. Just costs a little of your time.

First, a piece from the New York Times magazine on the science of making addictive foods.

addictive foods image

image credit: Grant Cornett | NY Times

 

 

 

 

 

Second, a post on the TIME Healthland blog about the insanity that is medical billing.

TIME cover

image credit: TIME Magazine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Go ahead. Read, get angry, get engaged, DO SOMETHING.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

2013: The Year of Healthcare Emancipation?

By e-patients, healthcare industry, healthcare price transparency, participatory medicine

Hang on to your hats – this one might wade into controversy.

django lincoln caduceus imageAs I write this (3:30pm EST on January 1, 2013), I’m listening to a conversation on NPR about the Emancipation Proclamation, which was signed into law by Abraham Lincoln 150 years ago today. I’m also reflecting on a couple of movies I’ve seen in the last 45 days: Lincoln (over Thanksgiving weekend) and Django Unchained (on Christmas Day).

Is it time for an emancipation proclamation for patients? Or should we just saddle up and have a shootout at the plantation … um, hospital instead?

Too many healthcare transactions are still conducted over the patient’s supine form. Doctors, hospitals, and other entities in the “provider” column horse-trade with health insurers, including Medicare, in the “payer” column. That means that the patient winds up shackled. No say in how much something costs, no real voice (yet) in what happens next, little interest on the part of the two trading entities in clueing us in to what’s happening.

Some of my connections in the participatory medicine/e-patients movement use a driver-rider metaphor for transforming healthcare, with the patient moving from passenger to driver in healthcare. It’s a less controversial/confrontational metaphor than referring to patients as chattel on the medical plantation. However, I’m sticking with that plantation metaphor for the moment, because too many in the provider and payer camps are still viewing patients as meat puppets, not as full participants.

Does healthcare need an emancipation proclamation? Yes. Here’s where the metaphor shifts: let’s not wait for someone to proclaim us (patients) emancipated. Let’s break our own chains, and be our own liberators.

Let’s demand that the providers and the payers give us an equal seat at the table, and then let’s …

LEARN EVERYTHING WE CAN TO BE PRODUCTIVE CONTRIBUTORS TO THE HEALTHCARE SYSTEM.

That last statement is the core of what will emancipate healthcare: patients, providers, payers, caregivers, everyone. Shared decision making – along with “patient-centered”, that’s the new hot phrase in healthcare – can only exist if all parties are able to participate in sharing the decision-making. We must learn how to understand the language of medicine, including research statistics (by the way, many doctors aren’t great at that, either). We must learn to apply critical reasoning to what we see/hear/read in the media about risks and trends in health and disease. We need to work on getting a seat at the research table to give a hard shove in the direction of making clinical research less ivory-tower and more boots-on-the-ground.

Some recommended reading for those who’d like to emancipate themselves:

Society for Participatory Medicine blog

ePatient Dave

Susannah Fox

Dr. Ted Eytan

and our movement’s own Rosa Parks (or, dare I say it, our own Django?):

Regina Holliday

Let’s liberate ourselves, shall we?