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Mr. Smith was once a nice guy.
These days, unfortunately, he’s anything but. The ravages of a neurodegenerative disease have left him demented, impulsive, and agitated.
His family is trying to find placement for him, and in the meantime I’m doing my best to keep his behavior controlled. Like many things in medicine, this is as much art as science. A tablet of this, a capsule of that, increase this slightly, add something for PRN use ... a witch’s brew of modern medicine.
Because of his worsening, his wife was calling us several times a week with updates, not in an annoying way but in an “I need help” way. I began answering the phone myself if I saw her number come up, because it was easier and faster for me to deal with her directly, and I knew she wasn’t calling for fun.
A few months ago I stopped a medication that didn’t seem to be doing much and started a different one.
And then things went quiet. His wife’s calls went from 3-4 a week to none.
This worried me. I mean, maybe the new medicine was working. ... but the sudden silence was deafening.
One week went by, then two ... I did a Google search to make sure he and his wife hadn’t died or been in the news.
Of course, I could have picked up the phone and called his wife, but why tempt fate?
Three weeks ... I was sure my MA, who handles far more calls than I do, had probably noticed this, too.
It would have been easy to mention it, but even with 16 years of school and 5 years of medical training, not to mention 3,000-4,000 years of hard-earned science behind me, there was the old grade school notion of jinxing myself. To say something is to invite trouble.
Four weeks. Finally, his wife called in and reached my MA. The medication had been working, but now was wearing off and the dose needed to be adjusted. So we did that.
Afterward I mentioned the time lapse to my MA, that I’d been afraid of jinxing it by saying something to her, and she told me she’d been thinking the same thing.
Funny when you think about it. We’re both educated people, believers in science, and (I hope) intelligent. We’re living in a (by human standards) technologically advanced time.
Yet, the old superstitions are still there, the idea that we somehow have magical control over time, space, random chance, and the actions of others by not talking about a phone call (or the lack of one).
Surprisingly (or maybe not), this is pretty normal. When on call we never say “quiet,” for fear of enraging the mysterious Call Gods. If needed, we use “the Q word.”
We still try not to walk under ladders, avoid stepping on sidewalk cracks, carry good luck charms, cross fingers, and fight over wishbones.
Superstitions such as saying “bless you” or “gesundheit” when someone sneezes are so ingrained into us that they’re now part of good manners and polite society.
I’ve worked in quite a few hospitals over the years. Not one of them had a room on any floor that ended in 13, always jumping from 12 to 14.
Civilization is roughly 10,000-15,000 years old. We have the internet and can travel to (relatively nearby) space and back. We have probes exploring — and even leaving — our solar system.
But
I’m going to knock on wood now.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
Mr. Smith was once a nice guy.
These days, unfortunately, he’s anything but. The ravages of a neurodegenerative disease have left him demented, impulsive, and agitated.
His family is trying to find placement for him, and in the meantime I’m doing my best to keep his behavior controlled. Like many things in medicine, this is as much art as science. A tablet of this, a capsule of that, increase this slightly, add something for PRN use ... a witch’s brew of modern medicine.
Because of his worsening, his wife was calling us several times a week with updates, not in an annoying way but in an “I need help” way. I began answering the phone myself if I saw her number come up, because it was easier and faster for me to deal with her directly, and I knew she wasn’t calling for fun.
A few months ago I stopped a medication that didn’t seem to be doing much and started a different one.
And then things went quiet. His wife’s calls went from 3-4 a week to none.
This worried me. I mean, maybe the new medicine was working. ... but the sudden silence was deafening.
One week went by, then two ... I did a Google search to make sure he and his wife hadn’t died or been in the news.
Of course, I could have picked up the phone and called his wife, but why tempt fate?
Three weeks ... I was sure my MA, who handles far more calls than I do, had probably noticed this, too.
It would have been easy to mention it, but even with 16 years of school and 5 years of medical training, not to mention 3,000-4,000 years of hard-earned science behind me, there was the old grade school notion of jinxing myself. To say something is to invite trouble.
Four weeks. Finally, his wife called in and reached my MA. The medication had been working, but now was wearing off and the dose needed to be adjusted. So we did that.
Afterward I mentioned the time lapse to my MA, that I’d been afraid of jinxing it by saying something to her, and she told me she’d been thinking the same thing.
Funny when you think about it. We’re both educated people, believers in science, and (I hope) intelligent. We’re living in a (by human standards) technologically advanced time.
Yet, the old superstitions are still there, the idea that we somehow have magical control over time, space, random chance, and the actions of others by not talking about a phone call (or the lack of one).
Surprisingly (or maybe not), this is pretty normal. When on call we never say “quiet,” for fear of enraging the mysterious Call Gods. If needed, we use “the Q word.”
We still try not to walk under ladders, avoid stepping on sidewalk cracks, carry good luck charms, cross fingers, and fight over wishbones.
Superstitions such as saying “bless you” or “gesundheit” when someone sneezes are so ingrained into us that they’re now part of good manners and polite society.
I’ve worked in quite a few hospitals over the years. Not one of them had a room on any floor that ended in 13, always jumping from 12 to 14.
Civilization is roughly 10,000-15,000 years old. We have the internet and can travel to (relatively nearby) space and back. We have probes exploring — and even leaving — our solar system.
But
I’m going to knock on wood now.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
Mr. Smith was once a nice guy.
These days, unfortunately, he’s anything but. The ravages of a neurodegenerative disease have left him demented, impulsive, and agitated.
His family is trying to find placement for him, and in the meantime I’m doing my best to keep his behavior controlled. Like many things in medicine, this is as much art as science. A tablet of this, a capsule of that, increase this slightly, add something for PRN use ... a witch’s brew of modern medicine.
Because of his worsening, his wife was calling us several times a week with updates, not in an annoying way but in an “I need help” way. I began answering the phone myself if I saw her number come up, because it was easier and faster for me to deal with her directly, and I knew she wasn’t calling for fun.
A few months ago I stopped a medication that didn’t seem to be doing much and started a different one.
And then things went quiet. His wife’s calls went from 3-4 a week to none.
This worried me. I mean, maybe the new medicine was working. ... but the sudden silence was deafening.
One week went by, then two ... I did a Google search to make sure he and his wife hadn’t died or been in the news.
Of course, I could have picked up the phone and called his wife, but why tempt fate?
Three weeks ... I was sure my MA, who handles far more calls than I do, had probably noticed this, too.
It would have been easy to mention it, but even with 16 years of school and 5 years of medical training, not to mention 3,000-4,000 years of hard-earned science behind me, there was the old grade school notion of jinxing myself. To say something is to invite trouble.
Four weeks. Finally, his wife called in and reached my MA. The medication had been working, but now was wearing off and the dose needed to be adjusted. So we did that.
Afterward I mentioned the time lapse to my MA, that I’d been afraid of jinxing it by saying something to her, and she told me she’d been thinking the same thing.
Funny when you think about it. We’re both educated people, believers in science, and (I hope) intelligent. We’re living in a (by human standards) technologically advanced time.
Yet, the old superstitions are still there, the idea that we somehow have magical control over time, space, random chance, and the actions of others by not talking about a phone call (or the lack of one).
Surprisingly (or maybe not), this is pretty normal. When on call we never say “quiet,” for fear of enraging the mysterious Call Gods. If needed, we use “the Q word.”
We still try not to walk under ladders, avoid stepping on sidewalk cracks, carry good luck charms, cross fingers, and fight over wishbones.
Superstitions such as saying “bless you” or “gesundheit” when someone sneezes are so ingrained into us that they’re now part of good manners and polite society.
I’ve worked in quite a few hospitals over the years. Not one of them had a room on any floor that ended in 13, always jumping from 12 to 14.
Civilization is roughly 10,000-15,000 years old. We have the internet and can travel to (relatively nearby) space and back. We have probes exploring — and even leaving — our solar system.
But
I’m going to knock on wood now.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.