Bait and switch

When banks compete, you win.”

The TV ad opens with a 60-something man sitting in his living room, talking to a three-piece suit-clad, 30-something banker. The older man is explaining to the dismayed younger man why he’s going to use Lending Tree loan service for a home loan.

“But Dad, I’m you’re son!” the younger whines.

Many of Lending Tree’s clients have collaborated in filing a multi-million dollar class action suit against the company, claiming “bait and switch” tactics. They claim that home buyers are lured by low interest rates or low closing costs on a home loan. Once the buyer concludes the hassle of filling out numerous forms, the suit accuses Lending Tree of making a switch to a costlier loan.

Bait and switch is among the oldest con games around. If you’ve ever bought a car from a car dealer, chances are you’ve had your own little brush with this deception. The ad promises the SUV you’ve wanted for only $299 per month. Only, once you get there, the salesman informs you that only a limited number of special deals were available and they’ve run out. But he’s still got a really good deal right over here!

Most of us recognize that we’ve been hookwinked. Yet we still go along and buy a car from the dealer.

What if it’s not a sleazy salesman behind the pitch, but a physician. If it’s hard to resist the sales pitch at the car dealership, it can be near impossible to ignore the advice of your doctor. But the truth is often loud and clear: in many instances, it is a genuine, bona fide, and fully-certified scam.

Among the most common bait-and-switch heart scams: Your cholesterol is high. The sequence of subsequent testing is well-rehearsed. “Gee, Bob, I’m worried about your risk for heart disease. Let’s schedule you for a nuclear stress test.” The stress test, like 20% or more of them, is “falsely positive,” meaning abnormal even though there’s nothing wrong with you. Another 30% are equivocal, not clearly abnormal but also not clearly normal. Now up to 50% of people tested “need” a heart catheterization in the hospital to clarify this frightening uncertainty. You might end up with a stent or two, even bypass surgery. Your simple $20 cholesterol panel has metamorphosed into $100,000 in hospital procedures. That familiar sequence is followed thousands of times, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

There are times when these heart tests are valuable and provide meaningful answers. Then there's the other half of the time when they provide murky information that can be used for a practitioner's economic advantage.


Copyright 2008 William Davis, MD

A fictional tale of medical economics in heart disease

Dr. Robert Connors is the hospital’s most prized cardiologist.

Practically a fixture in the cath lab, he generates more revenues for the hospital than any of his colleagues. Last year alone, he performed over 1500 procedures, bringing in $18 million dollars to the cath lab, $27 million to the hospital. Dr. Connors is very good at what he does: 55-years old, he has been involved in high-tech heart care since the “early days,” 25 years ago, when hospital procedures really began to take off.

Over his career, he has personally performed over 25,000 heart procedures and has built a reputation as a skilled operator of complex coronary procedures. Because of his skills, he enjoys a vigorous flow of referrals for procedures from dozens of primary care physicians. His skill has also earned him referrals from cardiologist colleagues who seek his abilities for difficult cases.

On any day, Dr. Connors typically schedules up to 12 procedures. His entire day is spent in the cath lab, usually from 7 am until 6 pm. He meets many patients for the first time on the catheterization laboratory table as staff shave their groin, preparing for the procedure. Much of the procedure itself is not even performed by Dr. Connors, but by one or another cardiologists-in-training, a “fellow,” or member of the fellowship the hospital proudly maintains as a clinical teaching institution. Nor will Dr. Connors talk to most patients at the close of the procedure. He leaves that to either the fellow or a nurse. Dr. Connors views himself as a procedural specialist, not someone who has to take care of patients. He gave up seeing patients in his office over 10 years ago.

Dr. Connors’ procedural enthusiasm gained him the attention of drug and medical device manufacturers. Because Dr. Connors lectures widely and advises colleagues, his comments can dramatically alter perceptions of the value of a technology. He has, on many occasions, catapulted an unpopular device to most-asked-for among colleagues, bringing millions of dollars in revenues to the manufacturer. One particularly lucrative arrangement he made around 10 years ago involved a “closure” device, a $400 single-use plug used to close the access site made during heart catheterizations. By swaying his colleagues at _______ Hospital, 50 orders per day (one per procedure) tallied $20,000 every day, $7.1 million dollars per year for the manufacturer. Although he’d used other devices on the market, the 5,000 shares of stock he was offered encouraged him to issue glowing comments to colleagues on the superiority of this specific brand of closure device. Now over 90% of all catheterizations at _______ Hospital conclude with the device manufactured by the company in which Dr. Connors maintains partial ownership.

Negative comments, on the other hand, topple other products when Dr. Connors sees fit to pan them. For this reason, device and drug manufacturers run straight to Dr. Connors to gain his good graces as soon as possible after a product is released into the market. Because the competition is just as likely to do the same, it has often come down to a bidding war, the company providing the most lucrative arrangement most likely to win.

Thus, Dr. Connors proudly boasts of how many times he has flown to Hawaii, Europe, and other exotic locations at industry expense. He also boasts of how, for $100,000 paid to him for a “consulting fee,” he can overturn the choice of products lining hospital shelves. As the hospital’s annual budget for coronary devices will top $84,000,000 this year, device manufacturers regard the sum paid Connors as a profitable investment.

Despite his lofty status in the hospital, Dr. Connors has long expressed a love-hate relationship with ________ Hospital. While he enjoys his work and has made a more than comfortable income, he has long felt that the hospital administration didn’t truly appreciate his contributions. Five years ago, he therefore demanded that he be made “Director of Research.” After all, he had hired a nurse to help him coordinate enrollment of patients into several device trials brought to him by medical device manufacturers. When he encountered an initial lukewarm response from hospital administrators, he threatened to take his “business” elsewhere to a competing hospital. Hospital administrators gave in. They provided him with the title he wanted, along with $100,000 annual “stipend.”

Just fiction? Make no bones about it: Cardiac care is business, big business. And there's money to be made, lots of it.


Copyright 2008 William Davis, MD

Disease engineering

Imagine you catch pneumonia.

You have a fever of 103, you’re coughing up thick, yellow sputum. Breathing is getting difficult. You hobble to the doctor, who then fails to prescribe you antibiotics. You get some kind of explanation about unnecessary exposure to antibiotics to avoid creating resistant organisms, yadda yadda. So you make do with some Tylenol®, cough syrup, and resign yourself to a few lousy days of suffering.

Five days into your illness, you’ve not shown up for work, you’re having trouble breathing, and you’re getting delirious. An emergency trip to the hospital follows, where a bronchoscopy is performed (an imaging scope threaded down your airway) and organisms recovered for diagnosis. You’re put on a ventilator through a tube in your throat to support your breathing and treated with intravenous antibiotics. Delayed treatment permits infection to escape into the fluid around your lungs, creating an “empyema,” an extension of the infection that requires insertion of a tube into your chest through an incision to drain the infection. You require feeding through a tube in your nose, since the ventilator prevents you from eating through your mouth. After 10 days, several healing incisions, and a hospital bill totaling $75,000, you’re discharged only to be face eights weeks of rehabilitation because of the extreme toll your illness extracted. Your doctor also advises you that, given the damage incurred to your lungs and airways, you will be prone to more lung infections in the future, and similar situations could recur whenever a cold or virus comes long.

A disease treatable by taking a 10-day, $20 course of oral antibiotics at home was converted into a lengthy hospital stay that generated extravagant professional fees, testing, and costly supportive care. You’ve lost several weeks of income. You’re weak and demoralized, frightened that the next flu or virus could mean another trip to the hospital. You are susceptible to repeated bouts of such episodes in future.

Such a scenario would be unimaginable with a common infection like pneumonia, or it would be grounds for filing a malpractice lawsuit. But, as horrific as it sounds in another sphere of health care, it is, in effect, analogous to how heart disease is managed in current medical practice.

First, you’re permitted to develop the condition. It may require years of ignoring telltale signs, it may require your unwitting participation in unhealthy lifestyle practices, like low-fat diets, "eat more whole grains," and "know your numbers."

It then eventuates in some catastrophe like heart attack or similar unstable heart situation, at which point you no longer have a choice but to submit to major heart procedures. That’s when you receive your heart catheterization, coronary stents, bypass, defibrillators, etc.

Of course, none of these procedural treatments cures the disease, no more than a Band Aid® heals the gash in your leg. The conditions that were present that created heart disease continue, allowing a progressive disease to worsen. At some point, you will need to return to the hospital for yet more procedures when trouble recurs, which it inevitably does.

A coronary bypass operation costs, on average $67,823. That includes the cost for the heart catheterization performed by a cardiologist to provide the surgical roadmap of your coronary arteries, the surgeon’s fees, the hospital charges. If there are any complications of your procedure, then your hospital bill may total a substantially higher figure.

$67,823 is just the upfront financial pay-off. Over the long run, your life is actually worth far more to the cardiovascular health care system because no heart procedure yields a permanent fix. In fact, repeated reliance on the system is the rule.

In fact, over 90% of people who enter the American cardiovascular health care system do so through a revolving door of multiple procedures over several years. It is truly a rare person, for instance, who undergoes a coronary bypass operation, never to be seen again the wards of the hospital because he remains healthy and free of catastrophe. A much more familiar scenario is the man or woman who undergoes two or three heart catheterizations, receives 3,4, or 6 stents, followed a few years later by a heart bypass, pacemaker, defibrillator, as well as the tests performed for catastrophe management, such as nuclear stress test, echocardiogram, laboratory blood analysis, and consultation with several specialists. The total revenue opportunity is many-fold higher than the initial 60-some thousand dollars, but instead totals hundreds of thousands of dollars per person.

A heart attack alone is a $100,000 revenue opportunity (Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, 2004).

Of all coronary bypass procedures performed, 25% are “re-do’s”, or bypasses in people who’ve had a previous one, two, or three bypass procedures.

Perhaps it's excessively cynical to label it "disease engineering." But, whether from benign neglect or purposeful failure to diagnose, the fact remains: Heart disease is, all too often by the standard path, undiagnosed and neglected for years until the procedural payoff strikes.


Copyright 2008 William Davis, MD

Free checking, auto shows, low-cost hotel rooms, and bypass surgery

Of the three major highways that lace the city of Milwaukee, there are at least five, and sometimes as many as ten, billboards that prominently feature one hospital heart program or another.

The passing of former First Lady, Ladybird Johnson in July, 2007, reminds us that, just 30 years ago, billboards were a far more common feature (many called them eyesores), proliferating like a dense forest of trees competing for a sliver of sunlight. Ladybird Johnson played a pivotal role in helping to dramatically reduce the number of billboards permissible on the nation’s highways. Of the relative few that remain today, a premium must be paid to post an advertisement. It costs several thousands dollars every month to maintain these highway commercials. But it’s not just an expense; it’s an investment.

The tens of thousands of eyes that view these billboards every day are potential customers, insured Milwaukeeans who carry health insurance and represent a major heart procedure just waiting to happen. They “need” to be directed to the right place. The billboards don’t feature health and wellness, heart disease prevention, or nutritional advice. They feature surgeons proudly wearing scrubs and masks, nurses, and declarations of the advantages of each hospital program. In effect, they invite you to have your heart attack, heart catheterization, bypass surgery, or other major heart procedure at their hospital. High-tech, high-ticket hospital heart care has become the subject of mainstream marketing, the stuff of flyers, brochures, and billboards.

The excesses of “big heart disease” have created a system that makes procedural heart disease “repair” far more profitable than heart disease prevention. Unfortunately, “repair” has disastrous financial, physical, and emotional consequences for everyone save the “repairman.”

While great good has been achieved by the American health care system, this gargantuan and inefficient system has also cultivated a culture of excess that has made many of its participants—physicians, hospitals, drug and device manufacturers—rich. And at our expense.

This approach was, to a degree, justifiable at a time when nothing better was available. But that's no longer true.


Copyright 2008 William Davis, MD

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