Notes from New Zealand; Green Prescriptions

I recently received this media statement from the Kiwi Health Minister, promoting the green prescription program. This can be the most important prescription a doctor writes for their patient...

"Many keen for green prescribing


The benefit to patients from following doctors’ orders for regular exercise is highlighted in a publication launched today by Health Minister Tony Ryall.
“Last year GPs and practice nurses issued 32,028 people with a Green Prescription to become more physically active, an increase of 5,868 people since 2008. Over 80 per cent of GPs in the country have issued Green Prescriptions.

The internationally recognised Green Prescriptions are a health professional’s written advice to encourage and support patients to exercise regularly as part of a total health plan. The main activities prescribed are walking, swimming and gym exercises.

“The top three reasons people are given a Green Prescription are weight problems, high blood pressure and risk of stroke or diabetes.

“A survey this year shows 73 per cent of people noticed improvements in their health six to eight months after receiving their Green Prescription.

“The online publication tells 10 patient stories - each one showing how regular exercise has had significant benefits in the person’s life.

“It also includes a story from our own Olympic great Sir Peter Snell who describes regular physical exercise as the closest we can get to immortality – and after reading the patient stories it’s easy to understand his enthusiasm.

“Since receiving his Green Prescription, Northland man Andrew Riwhi-Moiha has lost 22 kilograms, reduced his blood pressure and no longer needs to take as much diabetes medication.

Health Minister Tony Ryall says the National Government’s Green Prescription initiative is getting more New Zealanders active and significantly improving their health.
The patient stories can be read or watched on the Ministry website.

From your Kiwi Correspondent Part V

Here in New Zealand, I often reflect on October 2010. You may recall that month; the fall colors were black and orange and the season was flush with fearful beards and late-inning “torture.” During those pennant-winning weeks, the cauldron of Giants baseball fever hovered between bubble and froth and our community had cohesion of purpose unlike I’d seen before.

So why is it that half-a-world away (where virtually no one knows the difference between a slider and a curveball) I’m consistently reminded of the 2010 World Champs? Well, it’s because the fervour of fall ’10 is replicated daily in New Zealand but for a much different sport: rugby. 

New Zealand has been a rugby nation since shortly after its incorporation into the Crown territories in the early19^th century. The British, you see, were intent on avoiding the opulent mentality that plagued prior empires, and so chose a formidable and stoic sport to promote throughout their colonies. I don’t know how successful this tactic was elsewhere, but in New Zealand the game – and its paradigm – took root.. According to Dr. Robin McConnell, in his profile Inside the All Blacks, rugby “shapes New Zealand social history and everyday life .” Case in point -- it’s been five months since the New Zealand national team won the Rugby World Cup on home turf, yet the All Blacks remain ubiquitous. Flags, some homemade, fly from car antennas and balconies, babies don All Black onesies, and bottles of the nation’s top selling beer (Steinlager) declare “All Blacks…25 Years of Unconditional Support.” Looking for front-page news? Any snippet  about a present or former All Blacks player will do. Did you know that the legendary Michael Jones is helping to bring a Carl’s Jr. franchise to New Zealand?

The All Blacks are a national team and rugby a national sport in New Zealand – and we really have nothing comparable in the U.S., especially in terms of unity of loyalty. Given size and diversity differences between the two countries, this may not seem a fair comparison but it nonetheless raises the question of whether this shared passion for, and culture of, rugby pervades Kiwi life beyond the pitch? And in particular, does it help make Kiwis happier and healthier?

If you ask my wife, rugby is defined as a sport played by short men wearing too short shorts around gigantic thighs. But to others, it is defined by discipline, masculinity and stoicism. It is the type of sport in which a player (true story) might insist on playing most of a match with one testicle hanging torn from his scrotum. Stories like this are common and lead one to believe that the stoicism of Kiwis is unparalleled – an observation that finds some support in medical studies on pain tolerance. It could be that rugby plays a role in the Kiwi approach to death and dying [which is?]– one that, anecdotally at least, is more accepting than that of many other countries. Additionally, the national morale may be boosted by shared enthusiasm over rugby, which, in turn, can benefit the collective welfare. Indeed if you were to ask psychologist Jonathan Haidt, author of The Righteous Mind, Kiwi rugby culture might represent a classic case of sacredness of the group - “People who worship the same idol can trust one another, work as a team and prevail over less cohesive groups.” 

 

But some argue that any such benefits are greatly overwhelmed by rugby’s culture of rowdiness, drunkenness and intolerance. In fact, just as there are Kiwis who live for rugby, there are those who detest it. One blogger, in a piece entitled “NZ Rugby Morally Bereft,” writes that rugby “promotes machocism, alcoholism, violence, sexism and colonialism. Rugby has also created a crippling crisis in our health sector.” There is certainly truth to the first statement – the only rugby match I’ve ever attended hosted a highly intoxicated crowd, and I won’t even attempt to describe the experience of visiting a stadium urinal. But while injuries are common, I can’t believe that they are a crippling crisis. Rugby may have a higher injury rate than many other sports, and concussions (especially under-reported concussions)  are of particular concern, but the rates of devastating injuries such as spinal cord injury are actually not that high. A review of nationwide injury claims related to rugby from 1999-2007 reports an average of 743 a year, most of them limb and soft-tissue injuries, with a rather (given the nature of health expenses) modest yearly cost of $5.3 million. 

One of the few academics that has closely studied and written about the cultural and societal effects of Kiwi rugby is Brendan Hokowhitu, an associate dean at University of Otago. He shares a rather bleak assessment of the health effects of the sport. “I wouldn't say there is anything historically at least positive about New Zealand rugby culture and health,” he wrote. “Rugby was very much part of the establishment and was as such quite oppressive of women and alterity  [cultural freedom] in general.”

So the All Blacks culture does have a black side. But, to reiterate, the cohesiveness of the culture certainly has positive effects regarding national identity and group mentality. New Zealanders consistently score highly in international surveys of happiness and a nationwide social survey of 8,000 Kiwis found very high levels of people feeling like they “belong to New Zealand.” Another survey, of about 6,000, conducted by psychologist Marc Wilson of Victoria University of Wellington, found that Kiwi respondents with stronger identification to rugby reported being happier, more optimistic and having higher self-esteem. The beneficial effects of happiness on health are both obvious and well documented, and should not be underestimated. I wonder if the rugby in rugby culture could be replaced with a group activity with fewer downsides? Could a less dangerous and less rambunctious diversion replace rugby? Golf is popular here – so perhaps the All Greens might substitute. When it comes to group identity, however, such a change is much easier to talk about than to make. It’s a bit like asking a Giants fan to take up an L.A. Dodger habit.

---

From your Kiwi Correspondent Part IV

For a week after arriving in New Zealand, Holden, my three-year old son, was truly out-of-sorts. He was consistently cranky, refused to walk the city sidewalks, and frequently directed abusive behaviour towards his sister and the hotel furnishings. Disturbed, we convened a family summit on how to make him right. Holden suggested “bad guy” toys and his sister proposed gummy worms, but ultimately we settled on the parental preference: pharmaceuticals. My wife, based on prior experience, was concerned that Holden had an ear infection and I was concerned both about waking up at four in the morning and also about lugging a 30-pound child to and from the immigration office to complete visa paperwork. So, we agreed on a compromise – a liquid painkiller called Auralgan for his ears. We decided on this despite the lack of evidence that Holden actually had an ear infection and despite a strong suspicion that moving halfway around the world might have a significant psychological impact on a three-year old. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find a local pharmacy that carried Auralgan but taken aback when the pharmacist began to quiz me about my choice. She was (rightfully) dubious about Holden’s diagnosis, and it wasn’t until I explained that I was a physician (and that I believed in the placebo effect), that she finally relented and allowed me to pay $20 for a small bottle of medication. 

Afterwards, it occurred to me that this interaction would have gone quite differently back home, where purchasing over-the-counter medications usually only elicits questions like “Do you have a Rite Aid Saver Card?” I soon started noticing other differences, as well.  One was quite striking – the absence of drug advertising. No billboards for antacids, no magazine spreads for cholesterol pills, and no wacky television commercials with beavers, Abraham Lincoln and insomnia prescriptions.  At work in the Emergency Department, I noticed a simpler approach to prescriptions – fewer choices, shorter medication lists, fewer narcotics, and for the children: “play therapists” to supplement pain control during procedures. Among all patients, I heard far fewer concerns about the meds they could or could not afford to purchase.

In short, it became clear that medications are less prominent in Kiwi society than in America. Why might that be? Well, first off, while direct to consumer pharmaceutical advertising is legal in both countries, it is uncommon in New Zealand with Kiwi television ad time being reserved for truly important products like Marmite (did you hear that there’s a shortage?) Americans, however, cannot avoid drug ads – U.S. pharmaceutical companies spend over $5 billion a year on them and the typical American will spend around sixteen hours each year watching television snippets for drugs. But, more importantly, the structure and incentives regarding prescription medications are distinct. In the U.S., a premium is put on choice and novelty, at the expense of, well, expense. Sure, there are drastic differences between insurers and public assistance programs, but as a nation we spend a lot of money on prescription drugs – something like $300 billion dollars, which works out to about 13% of all health care costs (the highest rate in the world.) 

In New Zealand, there is a smaller pharmaceutical budget and unified approach under a national formulary. Created in 1993 in response to rapidly rising drug prices, the Pharmaceutical Management Agency (PHARMAC) recognizes that for some common conditions there are a handful of medications that perform equally as well, and some of these are cheaper generic brands. For example, a patient with high cholesterol has many choices of “statins” – Lipitor, Mevacor, Crestor, etc. – that all work through the same molecular mechanism. In circumstances such as this, and with the input from multiple physician-staffed committees and sub-committees, PHARMAC negotiates with the makers of those medications to get the best value for the money. The result is that a narrow list of medications (often just one) becomes the subsidized choices for that condition and when patients are prescribed one of these they pay a nominal pharmacy charge (between $0 and $3). So, rather than seven statins to choose from, the Kiwis have just three (which seems enough to me).

Of course, if a customer truly desired a different statin, he or she could almost surely pay more to get it. Many large U.S. insurers function in a similar manner regarding formulary and non-formulary medications. But because PHARMAC is negotiating for an entire market of 4.5 million people, they have a reasonable chance of striking a good deal with the drug makers. And financially, at least, PHARMAC has been a success. PHARMAC reports saving $4.7 billion since year 2000, whilst increasing its purchasing power threefold since 1993. This success has allowed the organization to expand funding of specialized and novel medications (for exceptional circumstances). An example is the funding of a new blood thinner called dabigatran for the treatment of atrial fibrillation (this by the way may turn out to be a mistake, but more about that another time.) 

Although the cost efficiency is difficult to argue with, not everyone is keen on the PHARMAC model or its decisions. A recent funding switch regarding glucometers for diabetics is an example. Some worry that the newly subsidized glucometer will not work well for everyone and thus not be worth the projected ten million dollars in savings. In the words of one parent to TVNZ…

"We are sheep farmers in a rural area. If I have to call for an ambulance for my daughter the first thing they are going to ask me is what her blood sugar levels are. If I haven't got an accurate meter to tell them, the consequences will be drastic." 

But despite flares like this, in general, it does not seem like having fewer pharmaceutical choices bothers the average Kiwi. I asked an Auckland pharmacist if her customers seemed happy with the medication choices they had. “Well, sure they do,” she replied, “but they don’t have much of a choice about that, now do they?” And I must admit that, as a physician, it is sometimes rather nice to have a short and sweet list of prescribing options. This approach seems to lessen the risk of gratuitous medication prescribing and there is less emphasis on pharmaceuticals – with the Kiwi perception of health being, if you will, less drugged out.

This is not to say that one approach or perception is necessarily superior to the other – indeed the Kiwi approach would probably not be possible without the American one. Pharmaceutical companies need markets for new drugs, after all, and we all benefit from them staying in the business of making lifesaving treatments such as vaccines, insulin and antibiotics. 

So, you may be wondering, did those eardrops help little Holden? We’ll never know the answer. Ultimately, his mom and I demurred and went with bad guy toys and gummy worms instead. And I am happy to report that this worked quite well. Could it be that those who haven’t been fully indoctrinated into the “pill for every problem” lifestyle might be onto something? Maybe we can all do with a little more “play therapy.”

From your Kiwi Correspondent Part III

Imagine that you’ve driven your car off the road and into a Eucalyptus tree and busted up your ankle. During the subsequent ambulance ride, what thoughts might pop into your head?

 “Ouch!”

“Thank goodness no one else was hurt.”

“What in the heck were those possums doing?”

“I’ve never liked Eucalyptus trees.”

“How in the world am I going to pay my medical bill?”

A Marin County resident could conceivably have some, or all, of these thoughts. But here in New Zealand, at least one of these notions would be quite unusual. And no, it’s not the one about possums – they are as plentiful as sheep around these parts. Rather, it is the bit about medical costs. You see in New Zealand, accident and injury-related medical care is fully compensated – regardless of insurance or fault. More about that soon, but first, for those who may have missed my last column, a quick catch-up…I’m in the midst of a six-month stay in Auckland, grappling with how Kiwi perceptions of health and wellness differ from American ones. Now, I recognize (disclaimer alert!) that perceptions of health are diverse and that this endeavor hazards broad generalizations. Perhaps my query is as unanswerable as the age-old “nature versus nurture debate.” Nonetheless, there are identifiable differences in geography, culture and statute that would seem to shape how health is perceived in these two countries.

Let’s return to the example of medical care for the wounded. We all know that some injured patients in the U.S. just cannot pay for healthcare, but that eventually (probably in an ER) they are likely to receive treatment anyway.  Everyone else picks up the tab for this through higher insurance premiums and other cost shifting. Of course, in some cases, it’s not that simple. For example, some uninsured patients might be able to pay their medical bills, but risk bankruptcy in the process.

Injuries are handled quite differently in New Zealand under a system called the Accident Compensation Corporation (ACC). First enacted in 1974 and revised many times since then, the ACC hinges on a crucial trade off – free medical care for injuries (regardless of fault) for all citizens and non-citizens alike in return for higher taxes and, importantly, forfeiture of the right to sue for damages.

Here’s how it works… let’s say an American tourist tries Zorbing – a “sport” in which you are rolled down a hill inside a large plastic sphere that looks like an overfed yoga ball. This American then suffers an unscheduled tumble into the path of a campervan. When he is taken to the Accident and Emergency (aka, the ER), the physician will complete an ACC form, verifying that he has sustained a valid injury and that his medical care will be paid for by the ACC. In return, said American cannot sue the Zorbing company, the driver of the campervan, the physician who treats him, or anyone else. He can, however, take solace in the fact that if any of these parties has acted negligently, they may be criminally prosecuted (as opposed to sued).

This system, it seems to me, helps mitigate fear. I’ve noticed this on many levels but it’s most pronounced with the children. There is a tool bench at my son’s preschool and it’s equipped with actual carpenter-worthy hammers, screwdrivers, nails, and Philips heads for actual building projects (take that Bob the Builder!) The kids go shoeless much of the day – they take their kicks off when they arrive at school and  (maybe) put them back on when they leave (of course the lack of poisonous snakes or spiders helps make this a safer proposition than it might be elsewhere). Trampolines and “bouncing pillows” are common, as are the injuries they cause. Kids play rugby, without helmets, which does not seem like a good idea to me. For young adults, the fearlessness manifests in adventure sports such as white water river sledging (river rafting on a boogie board). But it’s in professional life where diminished fear may make the most substantive difference. Kiwis I’ve spoken to are amazed at the thought of staying in a bum job just because it offers good health coverage. An American physician who spent a decade in New Zealand put it this way, “we [Americans] have to buy protection against the health care system that could make us poor. They have freedom from that fear.” Of course, these are perceptions, not hard facts, and fear (especially the type that softly itches at you each day) is a hard thing to measure objectively.

There are certainly downsides to the ACC scheme – a 2% earner’s levy (income tax) which caps at approximately $2000/year/person as well as the potential for both fraud and reckless behavior. As to the latter, Kiwis are certainly adventurous, but not particularly reckless. The roads are safe and well-policed and fatal motor vehicle accidents rare (396 in all of 2008) and less frequent (per vehicle) than in the U.S.  And, while I see far more unhelmeted cyclists here than at home, I also note far fewer folks texting while behind the wheel. Any freedom that an individual might feel to act carelessly seems to be more than counterbalanced by a public health incentive (financial and otherwise) to prevent severe injuries. The only truly reckless activity I’ve heard about is as a coed rugby squad called the Nude Blacks (if that isn’t explanation enough, there are YouTube videos.)

“Normal fear protects us; abnormal fear paralyses us,” so wrote Marin Luther King Jr. True enough, but what is “normal,” and how much is it defined by the social contract of the society in which we live?

It would seem that American society creates certain “abnormal” fears that may not exist in New Zealand. And this might help explain differences between the two peoples in regard to how they view their health. It does not, however, explain what the heck those possums were doing in the the road.

From your Kiwi Correspondent Part II

Soon after arriving in Auckland for a six-month sojourn, I picked up the local paper (The New Zealand Herald) and was surprised to read this from columnist Paul Holmes…  

“Now, my health. It seems to have been a matter of speculation since last Sunday and I don't want you to think I'm on my last legs, so here's what happened…It was all to do with damage done by radiotherapy during the first days of the prostate cancer treatment a decade ago…

In mid January, my bladder shut down. That is to say, its ability to drain itself was blocked by an enlarged prostate strangling the urethra. So I could not pee. Meantime the bladder continued to swell and believe me, this must be one of the most painful conditions in the world. The immediate solution is to insert a catheter to drain the bladder, a moment of immense relief. And you walk round with the bag attached to your leg until they can do what I call a re-bore.

Sounds weird and unpleasant I know, but it's happened to me now a few times over the years and you kind of get used to it.

But it's what can happen after prostate cancer. Like any cancer, it is a nasty, unpredictable thing, and its effects can hang round for years and change your life forever.”

I read this, and then re-read it to be sure. Did a prominent newspaperman just describe a personal and painful medical condition in a public and matter of fact manner? Why, yes, he had. And it occurred to me that one would be hard pressed to read such an account in the mainstream American media. This in turn had me asking, are we Americans a bit squeamish about our health? You certainly don’t see much about bladder blockage on the opinion page of the New York Times, but it’s not just that. Rightly or wrongly, many Americans would prefer to keep matters of reproductive and mental health (among others) in a black box. For instance, I would wager that there are precious few (if any) U.S. neighborhoods that feature billboards urging men to…“Give it a shot, there’s a 1,000,001 reasons to be a donor.” Sperm donor, that is. Such billboards are abundant here in Auckland. You also are unlikely to find your local paper running a feature on male cosmetic surgery, entitled “Beauty and the bloke.”

What you will find in the U.S. is a large number of people addicted to prescription narcotics. But while the U.S. is facing an unprecedented epidemic of prescription drug mis-use and abuse (prescription narcotic-related deaths numbered 14,800 in year 2008), what there is of Kiwi statistics on the topic suggests it is nary a problem here. The most recent published report I could find documents 92 prescription drug abuse deaths in the whole of New Zealand for the entire 2001-2002 time period. Why the difference? From my observations so far, and from what people tell me, it seems that Kiwis with chronic pain are better able to manage their pain with a regiment of Tylenol and the occasional happy hour. Or it could have something to do with the fact that hydrocodone is not available here in New Zealand. When I asked a Kiwi physician about this drug, she replied “No, haven’t heard of it. Related to morphine is it?”

But, there could be more to it. Limited investigation, some of it quite dated, suggests that there are cultural differences between Americans and Kiwis when it comes to pain perception and disability. A comparison study (Carron et al, 1984) of one hundred some chronic low back pain in each country indicated that “despite nearly similar between-country reports of pain frequency and intensity, the U.S. patients, both at pre- and post-testing, reported greater emotional and behavioral disruption as a correlate of their pain.” A more recent qualitative study (Dean et al, 2011) of rural Kiwi workers with low back pain observed a return-to-work ethic in spite of pain driven by a “‘can do’ attitude to work, managing [low back pain] within the context of having job control and flexible work practices.”

Am I saying that Americans are prudes and wimps when it comes to health? No, I have no such authority and we Americans would have no such monopoly. Besides, who’s to say that health squeamishness is a detrimental trait? I’m just pondering why there appears to be a health-minded difference between New Zealanders and Americans?

Over the next half dozen or so columns, I will explore various angles and nuances of this question – incorporating stories and observations from New Zealand and relating them, when applicable, back to the U.S. system. In the process, I hope not to, as a Kiwi might say, “Make you a whole lot of knackered,” which translates loosely to “bore you to sleep.”

To start this endeavor off, we must address size and population density. New Zealand is a country roughly half the size California with only 4.5 million people. By way of comparison, the San Francisco Bay Area registers just about this many all by itself.

As Don, a rather sharp-tongued tour guide told us… “Four-point-five million, that is not so many that you couldn’t fit them all in your backyard and still have room for a game of golf.” To put this in perspective, topics make it into The New Zealand Herald that would surely be drowned out by other news in the U.S. For instance, it’s front section news that a woman “abducted” a newborn baby from its mother – after asking and receiving permission to take the baby for a stroll. Articles also appear regularly about hospital food and clothing. The sticky stripe socks are, by the way, considered a smashing success! 

New Zealand, however, does have a high profile epidemic in progress. A nationwide surge of late night chip (French fry) cooking–induced house fires (1,005 of them in 2008-2009) prompted the Kiwis to launch a public service campaign called “Don’t drink and fry.” If you have a moment, pull up the TV ads on YouTube, they are richly entertaining. Somewhat remarkably, this campaign seems to have contributed to a nearly 40% decrease in frying fires in 2009-2010.

So size matters – both in the nature of what’s news and what demands public health attention. But, there is more to this topic of comparative squeamishness than that. Next time, I will explore the role of fear – in particular the fear of losing health coverage or not having it all – and how this impacts a culture’s approach to health and wellness. 

From your Kiwi Correspondent Part I

“Hello there, this is your captain speaking. Today, we’re going to skip the details about your personal flotation device… if you find yourself needing that, well, talk about one in a bazillion…And I know that you know how to click together a bloody seatbelt. Our seatbelts work like every other one you’ve ever used, and if you can’t figure it out, well, perhaps you shouldn’t be out in public in an unsupervised fashion. So instead, why don’t you pay attention to some health tips that might actually be useful.”

Don’t you wish airline pilots would give it to you straight like that? I sure do. 


Recently, I took a twelve-hour flight from Los Angeles to Auckland, New Zealand and, as it turns out, twelve hours is a long time to spend on a plane. Especially if you’re seated next to a hulking rugby player whose taut triceps nudge you into an awkward diagonal position. The good news is that this (seemingly interminable) discomfort gave me plenty of time to consider what is really worrisome about an extended plane flight. And you know what, the location of the personal flotation device is not high on the list. In fact, the Transportation Safety Board of Canada, among others, has concluded that even in the rare circumstance that such a device be required, it is highly unlikely that it will be used unless the passenger is actually wearing it beforehand. And since I’m not interested in advice (such as wearing a life vest for the duration of an overseas flight) that makes flying even more uncomfortable, we shall focus on more tangible threats. 

1       Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT): “Stretch your bloody legs.”

We all know that DVT is a common and potentially deadly condition and that prolonged immobility is a major risk factor. But how common is the airline DVT, dubbed by some as “Economy Class Syndrome”? We don’t know for certain, but some estimates are staggering. In 2001, The Lancet (Scurr et al) published an analysis estimating that one million cases of DVT related to air travel occur in the U.S. each year and that 100,000 of these result in death. A more recent review article by Gavish and Brenner put the risk on long-haul flights (6 ½ hours or longer) at 3-12%. This is a pretty stunning incidence – equaling approximately one DVT per one to four rows of economy seats in a Boeing 777. The American College of Chest Physicians (ACCP), on the other hand, have – in both their 2008 and 2012 guidelines – estimated a lower incidence, calling the risk “mild.” It’s thought that the risk of DVT is due not only to in-flight immobility but also the relative hypoxia in the cabin. As with all DVTs, risk factors include age over 40 years, female gender, pregnancy, oral contraceptive use, lower limb varicose veins, obesity, and genetic thrombophilia. The ACCP has recently added sitting in window seats to this list (Grade 2C evidence) while also observing that “Economy Class Syndrome” may be a misnomer – those in first class have the same DVT risk as those in the back of the plane. Notably, even the absence of risk factors does not put you in the clear. A Norwegian study (The Lancet, 2000) observed a substantial hour-by-hour increase in blood clotting factors (2-8 fold) occurred in all twenty healthy subjects studied in a simulated (hypobaric) environment.

Clearly, even if Economy Class Syndrome is a misnomer and some incidence estimates overblown, it seems that DVT prevention advice would be a useful aspect of an in-flight safety program (more helpful, perhaps, than a reminder to stow your tray table in an upright position.)

The trick to prevention, as we all know, is to keep those bloody legs moving! Any combination of the following will help: 1) graduated compression stockings for high risk patients at 15-30 mg of Hg, 2) calf and ankle exercises such as pumping up and down on the balls of the feet for 2-3 minutes every half hour, and 3) frequent walks up and down the aisles. Some evidence suggests that patients in high-risk demographics may benefit from a prophylactic anti-thrombotic – with low-weight molecular heparin (LMWH) likely being the best (but not so convenient) choice. A comparative study by Cesarone et al. published in Angiology, found that LMWH (given two to four hours pre-flight) was statistically superior (no DVTs in 82 subjects) to control (4/82) and aspirin alone (3/84). The current ACCP guidelines, however, do not recommend routine anti-thrombotic therapy, even for high-risk patients. Thus, it’s not likely that we will soon see “Leg Care Clinics” popping up in international terminals to offer a quick pre-flight shot of anti-DVT elixir. 

Dehydration: “Drink some blasted sports drink.”

It’s so easy to get dehydrated when traveling. There’s the dry air of a pressurized cabin, the mile-high altitude, and the stress and exertion of it all. With dehydration can come fatigue, grumpiness, a wicked headache, and (perhaps) an increased risk of DVT. So, what is the best way to stay hydrated? Common sense dictates that one avoids excessive alcohol and limit caffeinated beverages. But, what about drinking water? A 2002 JAMA study by Hamada et al. found that in-flight blood viscosity is better controlled with an electrolyte-enhanced beverage (110 mg of sodium and 30 mg of potassium per 8 oz) versus water alone. Perhaps your flight attendant should be serving Powerade rather than punchless coffee? Since that’s not likely to happen, bring packets of sports drink powder to mix with flight beverages.

The dry air of a plane can parch external body parts too – like the nose, eyes, and skin. A bloody nose or corneal abrasion at 30,000 feet is not going to help anyone sit back and enjoy the flight. So, for at-risk folks, Vaseline for the nostrils and liquid tears for the eyes are great ideas.  

Dry skin can be a real issue too – and believe it or not this has been documented in the literature. A French study of eight volunteer long-haul airline passengers observed that in-flight skin capacitance decreased rapidly on both the face and forearms – with the most pronounced changes on the cheeks where it decreased by up to 37%. So, how about some aloe vera to go with that moist towelette?

The good news about the arid airline air is that it helps keep infectious organisms at bay. Thus, I wouldn’t worry too much about the cabin air circulation, but would, of course, worry about a febrile-appearing lady with a productive cough sitting right next to me.  

      Physical abuse from your surroundings: “Avoid the pill-popping rugby player."
      
      I am well aware that carry-ons can tumble out of the overhead storage bins and that tall guys, like me, can bonk their heads, but accidental strangulation by a fellow passenger? That hadn’t occurred to me until several hours and two movies into our flight to Auckland. I sat crookedly next to my large and slumbering neighbor and resolved to fall asleep. Suddenly, though, a fire-siren-like scream rocketed through the cabin and a log-sized arm pinned my neck against the seat. Fortunately, the arm relaxed and I breathed again as my seatmate stood up, still screaming, and starting shaking the row in front of him. It all looked like an impromptu Maori war dance, the Haka. Luckily for me, and for the economy class as a whole, this hulking fella had some equally large friends with him – they jumped to his (and my) aide. Later, as they mercilessly ribbed him, I learned that he’d taken a double dose of Ambien, which had contributed to a very realistic nightmare. Why hadn’t my captain warned me about this. 


     Well, there you go, a brief guide to keeping the skies health friendly. Oh, and please do not forget, systematic reviews have established that “tampering with, disabling or destroying the lavatory smoke detectors is prohibited by law.”


      Kia Ora (Cheers) from New Zealand.

From the I&D Archives: Morgellons

Reposting this piece, from September 2010


When illness is real and when it's "contested"

Some years ago, a sinewy chap sought my help for an aggravating condition. This young man was convinced that microscopic bugs were crawling over and under his skin. You can imagine how horrible this creeping sensation would be and it had driven this guy to a frenzy of restlessness. His arms and legs were covered with excoriated sores and fingernail-induced streaks of scarlet. I inspected him from head to toe and couldn’t find evidence of insects or parasites. Then, as I silently puzzled the situation, he handed me a smudged envelope and asked me to carefully look inside. I removed a half dozen pieces of scotch tape, each holding a spattering of blackish specks. These specks, he declared, were the bugs that were tormenting him. I was doubtful, but nonetheless took a close look under a microscope. And while I didn't see signs of movement or anatomic structure, I wasn’t sure what the specks were or where they’d come from. After several minutes of debate, during which my patient wanted answers and I challenged his theory but failed to offer an alternative explanation, I noticed something. His fingernails were crusty. Along the nail bed and under the nail tips I noticed a blackish substance that looked like..."Are you a painter?" I asked him. Well, indeed he was, and it seemed clear to me that he was mistaking paint chips for parasites. But, he remained dubious. I thought he probably had a psychiatric condition called "delusional parasitosis;" he was certain that he had a treatable infestation. 

Years later, I wonder whether this patient and I were meeting at the intersection of a contested illness known (to some) as Morgellons syndrome. You may have heard of Morgellons before; it received some media attention around the time that the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) announced they were partnering with Kaiser Permanente to study the syndrome. But more on that later. First, what exactly is a “contested illness”?

To define “contested illness,” let’s start with the concept of “medicalization” – the process by which aspects of the human situation are described and treated as medical conditions or illnesses. For example, bad breath is diagnosed as “halitosis”, and excessive sweating transforms into “hyperhidrosis.” Writes Dr. H. Gilbert Welch in an LA Times editorial: “Everyday experiences get turned into diseases, the definitions of what (and who) is normal get narrowed…we doctors feel increasingly compelled to look hard for things to be wrong in those who feel well.” Lately, the medicalization of society has been driven forward by several dynamics. These include the insatiable market and marketing of personal health and beauty products, and the Internet-enabled organizing capability of condition-specific support groups. When advocacy groups (arguing that they are suffering from a treatable medical condition) collide with skeptics within conventional medical institutions, the result is a “contested illness” such as Morgellons.

Nearly ten years ago, biologist Mary Leitao’s s two-year-old son developed a strange skin condition. He scratched at himself incessantly, creating sores that, upon close inspection, contained bundles of multi-colored fibers. The physicians Leitao consulted were either baffled or skeptical. Frustrated, Leitao set out to educate herself and, in the process, discovered that her son’s symptoms had been described before, as far back as the 1500s. In fact, she found a name for the problem in Thomas Browne's A Letter to a Friend (1690). The letter described a "distemper of children... called the Morgellons, wherein they critically break out with harsh hairs on their backs." Determined to help her son and others like him, Leitao created the Morgellons Research Foundation and its website to disseminate information about the condition. She was surprised when thousands of strangers with similar symptoms contacted her. Pretty soon, Mary Leitao’s frustration had transformed into an advocacy movement. But, experts in dermatology and psychiatry were not convinced – the overwhelming opinion from the medical community was that Morgellons was a variant of delusional parasitosis – a well-described psychiatric condition. According to dermatologist Norman Levine (quoted by Brian Fair in his recent article in Sociology of Health & Illness), “[Morgellons] is not a mysterious disease…If you polled 10,000 dermatologists, everyone would agree [that Morgellons is Delusional Parasitosis].”

As Morgellons became more contested, the CDC, at the behest of some members of Congress, got involved. The CDC chose a middle ground in nomenclature – calling the condition “unexplained dermopathy,” and partnered with Kaiser Permanente to enroll and study patients suffering from “…symptoms including crawling, biting and stinging sensations; granules, threads or black speck-like materials on or beneath the skin; and/or skin lesions…”

And so here we are, several years later, waiting for the results and a peer-reviewed publication. The CDC website states that data collection for the study (which included skin samples from affected patients) is complete and under review by an expert panel. A press officer at the CDC confirmed this status (an inquiry to the Morgellons Research Foundation was not answered).

Whatever the CDC reports, in my opinion the Morgellons story illuminates two distinct points. First, patients’ symptoms should always be taken seriously and symptomatic treatment offered if available. In the case of Morgellons-type symptoms, this means a thorough exam to look for an explanation and (at a minimum) recommendations to alleviate symptoms (such as hydrocolloid dressings, low-dose steroid creams and anti-itching medications). Second, the medicalization of the human condition contributes to the development of contested illnesses and this is not healthy. Is Morgellons the medicalization of a psychiatric condition or is it an unexplained illness? We don’t know. But while it is clear that those with an “unexplained dermopathy” do not feel well, it is also very unclear whether modern medicine is capable of a definitive solution to their problem.

Whatever the answer to the mystery of Morgellons, the dynamics that have made it a contested illness are not going away. I have a feeling that those dynamics will be bugging us for some time.

**Dr. Ballard is not a part of the Kaiser Permanente team involved with Morgellons research.