What if you achieved the Track Your Plaque lipid targets: LDL cholesterol 60 mg/dl, HDL 60 mg/dl, and triglycerides 60 mg/dl?
After all, these are pretty stringent standards. Compared to national guidelines (the ATP-III Guidelines of the National Cholesterol Educational Panel), the Track Your Plaque 60-60-60 goals are laughably ambitious. There's a lot of wisdom hidden in those numbers. The triglyceride level of 60, for instance, is a level at which triglycerides become essentially unavailable for formation of triglyceride-containing lipoprotein particles such as small LDL and VLDL.
If you get to the 60-60-60 target, isn't that good enough? What if you just held your values there and went about your business? Will coronary plaque stop growing and will your CT heart scan score stop increasing?
Sometimes it will. But, unfortunately, many times it will not. The experience generated through clinical trials bear this out. Studies like the St. Francis Heart Study and the BELLES Trial both showed that just reducing LDL cholesterol is insufficient to stop plaque growth. Beyond the Track Your Plaque experience, there's no clinical trial experience that shows whether the 60-60-60 approach does any better.
In our experience, achieving 60-60-60 is indeed better than just reducing LDL. That makes sense. Just raising HDL from the average of 42 mg/dl for a male, 52 mg/dl for a woman adds advantage. Compound this with triglyceride reduction from the plaque-creating equation, and you've doubled success.
But there's even more. What if you had hidden patterns not revealed by conventional lipids? How about lipoprotein(a)? Small LDL? Postprandial (after-eating) abnormalities? Hypertensive effects (more common than you think)!
In 2006, stopping the increase in your heart scan score is, for most of us, not just a matter of taking Lipitor or its equivalent and sitting back. For nearly all of us, stopping the progression of your score is a multi-faceted effort.
It's 1920. The hospital in your city is a facility run by nuns or the church. It's a place for the very ill, often without hope of meaningful treatment, but nonetheless a place where surgeries take place, babies are born, the injured and chronically ill can find care. No one has health insurance and there's no Medicare. Everyone pays what they can. The hospital is accustomed to doling out plenty of care without compensation. For that reason, they welcome donations and sometimes will build new additions or other facilities in honor of a major donor. Volunteeers are common, since the wards are understaffed and generally suffering from a shortage of trained nurses and personnel associated with the church. Drugs, such as they are, are often prepared from basic ingredients in the hospital pharmacy. Product representatives hawking medicines and devices are virtually unheard of. Though their therapeutic tools are limited, the physicians are a proud group, dedicating their careers to healing. The majority of the medical staff volunteer large portions of their time to care for the poor who come to the hospital with very advanced stages of disease: metastatic tumors, advanced heart failure, debilitating strokes, overwhelming septicemia, etc.
Hospitals are usually governed by a board of clergy and physicians who make decisions on how to apply their limited resources and continually seek charitable donations.
Fast forward to present day: Hospitals are high-tech, professional facilities with lots of skilled people, complicated equipment,and capable of complex procedures. While they still house people with advanced illnesses, the floors are also filled with people with much earlier phases of disease. In general, they do a good job, with quality issues scrutinized by a number of official agencies to police practices, incidence of hospital-related infections, medication errors, care protocols, etc.
The hospital of 2006 is a more more effective place than the hospital of 1920. But its aims and operations are different, also. Though some churches are still involved in hospitals, more and more are owned by publicly-traded companies that answer to shareholders--shareholders who want share value to increase. Though donations are still sought, much of the revenues are obtained by concentrating on profitable, large-ticket procedures. More procedures are often generated by advertising.
Because they operate to generate profits, several hospitals in a single city or region compete with one another. The 21st century has therefore witnessed the phenomenon of hospital-owned physicians: more and more practicing physicians are employees of their hospital. That way, the physician brings all his patients and procedures to his hospital, not to a competitor. The top of the funnel is the primary care physician, who tends to see all disease when it first occurs. The primary care physician then sends the patient to the specialist, who is obliged (by contract) to perform his/her procedure in the hsopital paying their salary.
Representatives from companies manufacturing and selling expensive hospital equipment and drugs are everywhere, falling over themselves to gain attention of the physicians using their equipment and the hospital buyers who make purchasing decisions. Millions of dollars can be transacted with just one sale.
The number of volunteers has dwindled. The poor and uninsured are commonly diverted elsewhere, often to a government-funded, and often second-rate, institution. Hospitals measure success by comparing annual revenues and numbers of major procedures.
The hospital of 2006 is a vastly different place than 1920. If you're expecting charitable treatment, compassion, and selfless care, you're in the wrong century. In 2006, the hospital is a business. You don't expect charitable treatment at Wal-Mart or from your car dealer. Don't expect it from your hospital. They are businesses and you are a customer. Recognize this fact, lose the nostalgia for the hospitals of yesterday, and a lot more will become clear to you.
Brian is a 59-year old landscape architect whose starting CT heart scan score was 276.
Brian's food choices at the start were deplorable: a pound of sausage per week, sometimes more; butter on anything and everything; up to two pounds of cheese per week; hot dogs; etc. His lipoproteins were accordingly just as miserable: low HDL, high triglycerides, excessive (postprandial, or after-eating) IDL. Small LDL was a particularly stand-out pattern, with 95% of all LDL particles in the small category.
Brian made a dramatic turnaround in lifestyle and corrected all of his patterns--except for small LDL. After one year, small LDL still occupied 95% of all LDL particles, even though the quantity of LDL had been reduced. In order to help convince Brian that correction of his small LDL was going to be necessary to achieve control oover coronary plaque, I suggested that he undergo another heart scan. His score: 435, or a 57% increase.
Each day that passes, I gain more and more respect for small LDL as a cause for coronary plaque growth. Conventional thought among lipid experts is that small LDL should no longer be a factor if total LDL (e.g., LDL particle number) is reduced. But our experience suggests otherwise: when small LDL persists, we tend to see continued, sometimes frightening, plaque growth.
I therefore asked Brian to intensify his efforts: additional weight loss off his somewhat prominent abdomen (since visceral fat increases small LDL), further reduce wheat products and processed carbohydrates, increase niacin (to 1500 mg per day), and use more raw almonds and oat bran.
Don't let small LDL get the best of you. It is a nasty, sometimes persistent abnormality that has impressive effects on plaque growth.
Do you remember the book, Winning Through Intimidation by author Robert J. Ringer?
In his 1984 bestseller, author Ringer details how to succeed in business by overwhelming clients and competition by appearing hugely successful and powerful. Rather than a business card, he'd hand out an elegant book to represent himself. He'd show up in a limousine to a meeting, even when he could barely afford it. He used these tactics, even when he was a small-fry, in commercial real estate and built a successful business following such techniques.
This reminds me a lot of what happens in conventional medical practice: The large and successful hospitals, filled with trained staff and technology, exude legitimacy and success. How can they possibly be wrong? Such overwhelming know-how and multiple levels of expertise mustbe right!
Let's be grateful that we do have access to such high-tech, capable care. Unfortunately, just as Mr. Ringer used deceptive practices to appear something he wasn't, this is also true in hospitals. Not all physicians have your best interests in mind. Their principal concern is how profitable your care can be for them--can you be persuaded to have your stent, bypass, etc.. After all, look around you: Aren't all this equipment and personnel impressive? Aren't you intimidated?
The patient that most recently drove home this issue for me recently was a smart and capable executive who came in for consultation. He had been told by his internist that a surgery (to replace his aorta, a HUGE procedure) was probably necessary. In my view, it was not--his process was simply not that far progressed. The risks for danger over the next several years was virtually nil. Unfortunately, this man, now confused and worried, sought an opinion from the chief of thoracic surgery (in the usual white coat and with professorial demeanor, I'm sure) in a major metropolitan hospital (in Chicago), who promptly rushed him off to the operating room.
The pathology report, cleverly not mentioned in any other of the hospital documentation, showed what I had suspected: this man had mild disease that wasn't even close to requiring surgery. But, with all that technology, $100,000 or so of costs, chief of surgery who looked the part, etc.--they must be right!
Robert Ringer's concepts only ring too true for hospitals and some of the unscrupulous physicians in practice. Don't allow yourself to be intimidated.
