The lesson that “once a heart patient, always a heart patient” has been honed to an art form in business practices at St. Matthews and other hospitals like it. If you enter the system through your primary care physician or cardiologist, there’s an excellent chance you’ll end up with several procedures, diagnostic and therapeutic, over the ensuing years. Accordingly, St. Matthews provides a very attentive after-discharge follow-up program, complete with access to friendly people, phone centers, “support groups,” and even an occasional festive get-together, all in an effort to ensure future return to the system.
All in all, the St. Matthews Hospital System is a hugely successful operation. It provides jobs for thousands of area residents and provides high-tech, high-quality healthcare. Like any business—and no doubt about it, St. Matthews is a business with all the trappings of a profit-seeking enterprise—it grows to serve its own interests. The tobacco industry didn’t grow to its gargantuan proportions by doing good, but by selling a product to an unsuspecting public. So, too, hospitals.
Curiously, hospitals like St. Matthews continue to operate under the sheltered guise of not-for-profit institution with the associated tax benefits, ostensibly serving the public good. This means that all end-of-year excess revenues are re-invested and not distributed to investors. But non-profit does not mean that individuals within the system can’t benefit, and benefit handsomely. Under St. Matthews’ non-profit umbrella, many businesses thrive: 35 pharmacies, extended care facilities to provide care after hospital discharge, drug and medical device distributors, even a venture capital arm to fund new operations. The financial advantage conferred by “non-profit” status has permitted the hospital to compete with other, for-profit businesses, at a considerable advantage. For this reason, attempts have been made over the years to strip them of what some believe is an unfair advantage; all have failed.
While profits may not fall to the bottom line, money does indeed get paid out to many people along the way. Executives, for instance, pay themselves generous salaries and consulting fees, often from several of the entities in this complex business empire. Physicians are brought in as “consultants” or are awarded “directorships” for hundreds of thousands of dollars per year—Director of Research, Director of Cardiovascular Services, etc. Don’t forget the $3.7 million dollar annual salary paid to the CEO.
Hospitals and doctors have a vested interest in preserving this financial house of cards. They will fiercely battle anyone or anything that threatens the stream of cash. During a recent meeting of important doctors at St. Matthews Hospital, one cardiologist bravely voiced his concern that bypass surgery was performed too freely on too many patients in the hospital. The doctor was promptly and quietly asked to remove himself from the meeting. Several days later, he received a letter announcing his dismissal from the committee.
The silent conspiracy conducted by hospitals and cardiologists serves their own purposes better than the good of the public. Under the guise of good works, hospitals continue to promote strategies which are, for the most part, outdated, inefficient, inaccurate, and expensive. But that’s the rub. Expensive to you and your insurance company means more money for the recipient: your hospital and cardiologist, and the powers that support them. All this occurs while the real solutions that are of benefit to the public continue to be overlooked, hidden in the shadows.
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 took off.
During 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 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 St. Matthews 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 St. Matthews 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 St. Matthews. 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. St. Matthews’ administrators gave in. They provided him with the title he wanted, along with $100,000 annual “stipend.”
True story, though names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Is Dr. Connors just an “outlier” among colleagues who toe a more conservative line? Or does his brand of commercial enterprise in hospital heart care represent the ideal that they seek, brazenly and ambitiously seeking to expand the procedural solution to heart disease to the exclusion of patient care and real human interaction?
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 two week, $20 course of oral antibiotics at home has been 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.
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 healthcare, 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 the telltale signs, it may require your unwitting participation in unhealthy lifestyle choices. Palliative treatments that slow, but don't stop, the progression of disease are prescribed like cholesterol drugs. The process 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. and you're proudly declared a "success" of medical technology.
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 your 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 $85, 653 (AHA 2008 Update; based on 2004 data). That doesn't include the $25,433 cost for the heart catheterization performed by a cardiologist to provide the surgical roadmap of your coronary arteries. If there are any complications of your procedure, then your hospital bill may total a substantially higher figure.
$85, 653 is just the upfront financial pay-off. Over the long run, your life is actually worth far more to the cardiovascular healthcare 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 healthcare 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. Re-do bypass surgeries--a 2nd, 3rd, or 4th bypass--now comprise 25% of all bypass procedures.
The total revenue opportunity is many-fold higher than the initial 80-some thousand dollars, but instead totals hundreds of thousands of dollars per person.
What motivation can there possibly be to 1) identify coronary disease early, when in its asymptomatic stage, then 2) identify its causes, then 3) correct the causes, and finally 4) shut off the disease? You and I can accomplish this with a few hundred dollars of cost, perhaps a few thousand over many years (to cover costs of fish oil, vitamin D, niacin, and whatever else it takes to stop the expression of the disease). Nobody therefore profits substantially from your prevention effort--except you.
Then what if nobody told you that heart disease could be managed this way? That's what I mean by "disease engineering."
I stumbled on a great interview with cardiothoracic surgeon, Dr. Steven Gundry, on Jimmy Moore's Livin' La Vida Low-Carb Show. (Or, cut and paste: http://www.thelivinlowcarbshow.com/dr-steven-gundry-part-1-episode-179/)
Dr. Gundry has some fun ways of looking at eating and health. I found his comments on the activation of genes (discussed at a very light, non-scientific level) useful. He argues that when humans consume sugar-containing foods, the signal received by the body is that winter is approaching and it's time to build up fat stores in anticipation of the food shortages of cold weather. He finds parallels for this phenomenon in other species. Of course, for humans, winter (in the form of extended calorie deprivation) never comes. In fact, you might argue that, given our excessive reliance on grains, corn, and sugars, that we are, in effect, always in anticipation of a winter that never comes.
I've not read Dr. Gundry's books, but I found this light interview a lot of fun.
Yet another patient came to my office today saying, "My primary doctor said that I should stop taking fish oil. He say's that I don't need it because I take Crestor."
The woman was in tears, confused and frightened over a potential disagreement between her doctors.
Is this true? If someone takes a statin drug, like Crestor, Lipitor, Zocor (simvastatin), pravachol, or lovastatin, they don't need to take anything else because the statin drug is so powerful that it eliminates risk?
No. Not even close to the truth.
First of all, let's accept that virtually the entire body of statin drug literature--hundreds of studies, billions of dollars spent--was paid for by the drug industry. It's no news that studies paid for by the sponsor are likely to favor the sponsor. Imagine Ford sponsored a study of Ford vs. GM cars vs. Toyota, paying $10 million to fund the effort. Guess who is likely to come out on top? "Studies show that Ford makes the best car in America." (Sorry, I don't mean to pick specifically on Ford. It's just a widely-recognized brand.)
So that means that the statin literature likely overestimates the benefit of statin drugs. Even so, it's clear from the hundreds of studies performed that the best we can hope for by taking statin drugs is a reduction of heart attack and death from heart attack of 30-35%--best case. That doesn't sound like elimination of risk to me.
GISSI Prevenzione demonstrated a 28% reduction in heart attack, 45% reduction in death from heart attack with fish oil.
Omega-3 fatty acids from fish oil also:
--Reduce triglycerides dramatically --Accelerate after-eating clearance of digestive by-products, i.e., they correct post-prandial abnormalities --Modify the character (fragmentation potential, structural strength) of plaque --Raise HDL modestly
If you buy your fish oil from Sam's Club, Costco, or other discounter, a healthy dose of fish oil might cost you $3 per month. Compare that to the $120 per month average cost of a statin agent. Why is there even a discussion over this?
Sadly, the doctor on Main Street, U.S.A, is the unwitting puppet of the pharmaceutical industry. The pretty drug company representative with nice legs and a cute smile promises lunch, dinner and . . who knows what else? Wink. The fifty-something, hairline-receding doctor can't resist. "Of course I'll prescribe your drug!"
Don't kid yourself: The drug industry knows precisely how to manipulate the behaviors of the deliverers of their products.
So, do statin drugs make omega-3 fatty acids from fish oil irrelevant? Absolutely not.
It's all about trying to inch closer and closer--not to reduction--but to elimination of risk for heart disease.
I’ve often observed a peculiar phenomenon: People who come to the office or hospital in the midst of a difficult emotional situation-e.g., stress at home, financial struggles, hospitalization (usually an unhappy occasion)- can show dramatic drops in HDL cholesterol. Not uncommonly, HDL drops 20 or more mg/dl.
Take Agnes’s case. Agnes had to go to the hospital for an elective procedure, one she’d been dreading for months. Previously, Agnes had been proud of the fact that she’d incrased HDL from 42 mg/dl range all the way up to 71 mg/dl. She accomplished this dramatic increase by eliminating wheat and cornstarch from her diet (which helped her lose 24 lbs), taking vitamin D and omega-3 fatty acids from fish oil, exercise, 2 oz of dark chocolate per day, and a glass of red wine with dinner.
Although I wouldn’t have bothered checking a cholesterol panel for such a procedure, the hospital had a checklist that included a cholesterol panel regardless of necessity. (Such checklists are common in hospitals, meant to ensure that certain basic issues are not overlooked.)
Agnes’ HDL: 29 mg/dl-a 42 mg drop.
Agnes will recover and her HDL will rebound, but the same effect can occur with other stressful situations, such as death in the family, financial worries, marital stress, etc., as well as physical illness.
Interestingly, the opposite may also hold true: Low HDL may increase risk for depression and stress. A study from Finland of 124 depressed persons, for instance, showed a 240% increased likelihood of depression in those with lower HDL cholesterols.
In other words, there seems to be a curious interdependence between HDL and emotions.
Why? Does it represent the indirect effect of adrenaline, cortisol, or other “stress hormones”? Do factors that relate to low HDL, such as unhealthy diet full of carbohydrates and physical inactivity, also tend to cultivate depression?
It certainly seems to be a chicken-egg situation, with one often leading to the other.
Moral of the story: Maintaining a sense of optimism and engaging in activities that bring you satisfaction and enjoyment can help raise HDL, as can strategies such as those followed by Agnes. Avoiding unnecessarily stressful situations can help. HDL is important, since higher levels are associated with much reduced risk for heart disease . . . and perhaps depression.