Here’s what George Eliot wrote in Silas Marner about how the elderly contemplate the prospect of death:
“…it is often observable, that the older a man gets, the more difficult it is for him to retain a believing conception of his own death.”
I observed the opposite at my fiftieth medical school reunion in June.
In a multitude of conversations, and in the entries classmates wrote in our reunion book, we displayed a vivid “believing conception of [our] own death(s).” No one I spoke with was morbid. No one evinced fear.
The dominant tones were (1) matter-of-factness, (2) gallows humor, and (3) curiosity about the future of our species and planet. Continue reading…
On the occasion of my last birthday, a friend asked how it feels to be growing old? I proffered first, the old bromide that in my head I feelabout thirty, but my body groans a wholly different story. Then I joked that when people intone, “Well, you’re only as old as you feel,” I reflexively remark, if that’s true, then I’m really old!
I met Vickie in Your Father’s Mustache, a sing-along place in Greenwich Village 46 years ago. She had long dark hair and wore a poncho like Clint Eastwood in Fistful of Dollars. She was singing and swaying with such joy. She had the kind of face you could look at the rest of your life. I noticed her eyes were different colors. One was hazel and speckled with green, and the other a cloudy blue. She asked me, “What do you do?”
The title of this post is deliberately mysterious, but you’ll understand it at the end.
At my 50th medical school reunion in June, my classmates agreed that while the goals of medicine are as valid as ever, the profession itself is in decline. Here’s a quote from the Preface to our reunion book:
“A frequent refrain is our disappointment in the evolution of medicine in the 21st century…The art of medicine appears to have diminished in value.”
This isn’t just a reaction by grouchy old guys (my class, like other medical schools at the time, had relatively few women). In a recent survey of 13,575 physicians, 84% agreed that medicine is in decline, and 58% would not recommend medicine to young people. Continue reading…
Even though you think and behave perfectly normally, you might already have Alzheimer’s disease. In fact, you might warrant the label of “pre-clinical Alzheimer’s disease” for a full 20 years before graduating to the full-fledged condition. That according to the latest definition of Alzheimer’s put forward by the National Institute on Aging together with Alzheimer’s Association 3 years ago.
Heralded as a radical departure from earlier clinical diagnostic criteria, the new definition is in line with how we think about other chronic conditions such as cancer or heart disease. Normal cells often mutate into cancerous cells and proliferate for a long time before there are enough of them to produce symptoms—and a cancer diagnosis. Plaques may be deposited in the lining of coronary arteries long before they narrow blood vessels enough to impair blood flow to the heart resulting in chest pain. In all these cases, the hope is that we may be able to intervene during the pre-symptomatic phase, altering what is currently the inevitable trajectory of illness.
In the case of Alzheimer’s, detecting various “biomarkers” in the blood or cerebrospinal fluid would signal the need for some kind of biochemical intervention. The problem has been that we don’t as yet have any such intervention. Continue reading…
Our move from the Washington area to a retirement community in Baltimore called Roland Park Place came five ago when, I was 81 and my wife, Pat, was 80. It was concerns about our health and a concerted push from our seven children that propelled us to decide to move. It had become more noticeable that Pat might have Alzheimer’s. For me, Parkinson symptoms, dormant for a decade, had come alive.
At the beginning of our second year at Roland Park Place four falls in two days put Pat in a room in the health care center. I was able to move a second bed into her room and that is where I have slept for the past three years.
While caring for Pat is my main focus, I have become involved in discussion groups concerned with the world’s problems. Last year I became concerned about the morality of our government’s increased reliance on drones. For me it was a “distant mirror.” Continue reading…
Near the end of my clinical career as a psychiatrist, I, like so many other psychiatrists, was required to do more in less time. In order to use that precious time as best as possible, I wondered if there was anything else I could do to offset that limitation. Soon, I recalled the landmark book by the psychiatrist Viktor Frankl – Man’s Search For Meaning – which describes how even those in concentration camps were better able to cope if they had a sense of meaning in their lives there.
I then decided to ask each of my patients what gave them the most meaning in their lives. That way, I hoped, I might quickly know what was most important to them, then also be able to connect how the treatment could help them achieve those goals. Continue reading…
On July 30, 1965, when President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the bill that created Medicare, he outlined an ethical vision for the nation’s obligations to its older citizens. “No longer will older Americans be denied the healing miracle of modern medicine,” he said. “No longer will illness crush and destroy the savings that they have carefully put away over a lifetime so that they might enjoy dignity in their later years. No longer will young families see their own incomes, and their own hopes, eaten away simply because they are carrying out their deep moral obligations to their parents, and their uncles, and their aunts.”
That was then. Remember that, in 1965, 19 million Americans 65 years and older were eligible for Medicare. Life expectancy for men was only 66.8 years and, for women, 73.7 years.
This is now. Almost 44 million people are 65 and older. Women who reach the age of 65 now have a life expectancy of 20.4 more years; for men, it’s 17.8 more. That’s a boon to the healthy and well-off, but a challenge for those who are sick and poor. Continue reading…
The last time I was directly responsible for treating diabetes was fifty years ago, when I was an intern in medicine at UCLA. In my subsequent career as a psychiatrist I was not directly responsible for diabetes care, and as an individual, I don’t have the condition. As a result, I haven’t kept up on diabetes treatment, so a June 11 article on “Diabetes Overtreatment in Elderly Individuals: Risky Business in Need of Better Management” was news to me.
The opening two sentences of the American Diabetes Association’s article on “Tight Diabetes Control” make it sound as if “tight control” should be the goal of treatment:
“Keeping your blood glucose levels as close to normal as possible can be a lifesaver. Tight control can prevent or slow the progress of many complications of diabetes, giving you extra years of healthy, active life.”
In my uninformed state, that’s how I understood how diabetes should be managed, even for over 65ers. But I was wrong. Continue reading…
The classic cartoon picture of someone with hearing loss is a bent, old man with a giant ear horn held to his ear: not a pretty picture. Things have come a long way. Modern hearing aides are highly sophisticated electronic devices, some so small that they can fit into the ear canal and be virtually invisible. Some have directional microphones that can help you sort out voices that you want to hear from background noise.
Yet, most people are reluctant to wear a hearing aid. Some even buy them and don’t use them. Why is that? Continue reading…