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Welcome to my blog, a place to explore and learn about the experience of running a psychiatric practice. I post about things that I find useful to know or think about. So, enjoy, and let me know what you think.


Showing posts with label book of woe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book of woe. Show all posts

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Who Needs Who

Check out this article in Psychiatric News, if you haven't already. 

Jeffrey Lieberman, president of the APA, asks us to be nice to poor, little Big Pharma. 

He notes past problems, "including high drug prices, aggressive marketing practices and direct-to-consumer advertising, efforts to buy influence with physicians, and, perhaps most egregiously, the suppression of data on drugs’ dangerous side effects."

He goes on to say:

But let’s face it, they need us and we need them. We must recognize the important, beneficial role that drug companies have long played in all areas of medicine. While not minimizing problems, we simultaneously must remember how products have improved the quality of health care and quality of life in our society, and their funding has helped to advance research, public outreach, and training.

He finishes up with:

We now are moving forward with careful vigilance in ways that recognize the value of industry relationships. Under the auspices of the American Psychiatric Foundation (APF), interactions with industry are helping to restore important relationships. ...I believe that the rules and models for informational, educational, and research engagement can and should be developed and applied in ways that allow for our optimal engagement with companies. Doing so would not only help us learn from the mistakes of the past; it would help us improve the future for our profession and our patients. 

I agree with the fact that we need them. Unless we want to put all our patients on Lithium and St. John's Wart, the meds have to come from someplace. And I don't fault Big Pharma for trying to make a buck or two billion.

But I also agree with the fact that they need us. No prescribers, no sales. So why do we have to be nice to them? And why does the president of the APA have to ask us to do so?

Sorry if I'm skeptical, but:

GlaxoSmithKline has admitted that some of its senior Chinese executives broke the law in a £320m cash and sexual favours bribery scandal.

And:

Big pharma mobilising patients in battle over drugs trials data.

The veracity of this last one is a little controversial, I suspect because Big Pharma intervened (See Eye For Pharma).

The idea is that if pharmaceutical companies make their data transparent for review and interpretation by the world at large, like in RIAT, science may be compromised, and private patient information may be revealed. 

I guess the world at large doesn't understand science as well as pharmaceutical companies do. And oh yeah, data for subjects in drug trials are anonymous.

(Please check out 1boringoldman.com for a more extensive discussion of this controversy)

So, again, why is the APA on a kick to endorse Big Pharma?

To quote Danaerys Targaryen, "I am only a young girl, and know little of such matters."

But I wonder what the APA gets out of the endorsement.

According to Gary Greenberg, regarding the APA's financial picture:

Income from the drug industry, which amounted to more than $19 million in 2006, had shrunk to $11 million by 2009, and was projected to fall even more. Membership was dropping, off by nearly 15% from its highs, and with it income from dues and attendance fees. Journal advertising was off by 50% from its 2006 high of $10 million.

I looked up the APA's 2012 Treasurer's Report, and found the following charts:











What's a picture worth, again?





Tuesday, July 23, 2013

These and These are the Words

I recently received this email from the NY State Psychiatric Association:

Just published field-trial research on DSM-5 shows that in routine clinical practice the diagnostic criteria are viewed as easy to understand and use by both clinicians and patients. This follows field trials in high-volume academic centers that found high reliability of the criteria in the revised manual. 

As part of the process that tested the more-dimensional approach that characterizes DSM-5, APA’s Division of Research conducted a series of field trials in settings of routine clinical practice. Researchers recruited a sample of 621 psychiatrists, clinical psychologists, social workers, counselors, and other licensed mental health professionals. Each participant was then asked to report on at least one randomly selected active patient. Data were provided on 1,269 patients, who also answered study questions. 

The clinicians reported that the revised criteria were generally easy to use and were useful in patient assessment, said principal investigator Eve Mościcki, Sc.D., M.P.H., and colleagues today in Psychiatric Services in Advance. “The clinicians put in a lot of effort collecting data on their patients,” she told Psychiatric News. Large majorities favored the overall feasibility of the DSM-5 approach, the clinical utility of the DSM-5 criteria, and the value of its cross-cutting measures. 

“These trials indicate that the DSM-5 approach works in a wide range of practice settings and a wide range of clinical settings,” said Mościcki. 

This sounds pretty good, doesn't it? But as it happens, I also recently finished reading Gary Greenberg's Book of Woe. And while I disagree with Mr. Greenberg on a number of points regarding the nature of psychiatry, I believe his data are accurate, especially those having to do with his own experience as a field trial participant.

In a press release on October 5, 2010, the APA announced that its field trials had started. There were to be two types of trials. One, across 11 academic centers, with two clinicians evaluating the same patient. Both evaluations would be vidoetaped and viewed by a third clinician, to establish reliability.

The second was the RCP, or Routine Clinical Practice trial, in which private clinicians would evaluate two patients, then re-evaluate a couple weeks later. The data would then be compared, and sent back to work groups who would tweak criteria and send them back to the clinicians for a second round of field trials.

But they hadn’t started as of October 5th, just a pilot study for medical center trials. The data from the pilot study needed to be analyzed, methodology modified, and clinicians trained before the field trials could begin in earnest. The academic center trials actually began between December 2010 and March 2011.

 At the end of 2011, two months before the data had to be in, 5000 clinicians had signed up for the RCP trial, 1000 had started the training, 195 had completed the training,  and 70 patients had been enrolled. The goal was 10,000 patients.

Mr. Greenberg's description of the field trial diagnostic interview demonstration at the APA meeting is one of the funniest things I've ever read. William Narrow, the psychiatrist in charge of research for the DSM-5, bungles his way through a clunky computerized interview, most of which is irrelevant to the fake patient's description of her problem, and this takes place after she has already entered her data extensively on her own section of the computerized interview.

There follows a debacle in which Dr. Narrow runs out of time, and then forgets to save his painfully acquired data. The conclusion, obvious from the initial description of extensive hoarding, is Hoarding Disorder. The audience is then asked their opinion on whether the criteria are an improvement over DSM-IV criteria, despite the fact that Hoarding Disorder doesn't exist in DSM-IV.

At the end, the question of reliability is raised by an audience member, Michael First, who was a prominent participant in the DSM-IV, and denied a position on DSM-5. Dr. First wanted to know how to tell if diagnostic discrepancies are the result of criteria or clinician style?

The answer provided had to do with Cohen's Kappa, a statistical measure of reliability introduced in the DSM-III. A Kappa of 0 indicates that agreement is due to chance, alone. A Kappa of 1 indicates that agreement is completely non-random. For the DSM-III, a Kappa of 0.40 was considered poor, and a Kappa of 0.80 was considered high. The same day as Dr. Narrow's demonstration, Helena Kraemer, chief statistician for the DSM-5, said that a Kappa of between 0.20 and 0.40 would be considered acceptable. In other words, the DSM-III reliability was inflated, so it was a good thing that the DSM-5 reliability would be much lower.

This is the APA's definition of, "...high reliability of the criteria in the revised manual."

I want to give you a taste of what Gary Greenberg's experience as a field trial participant was like. (This is from Kindle location 4635).

He sat with the patient, in front of his computer, for several hours, plowing through 49 pages of questions on mood disorders, 31 pages of questions on anxiety disorders, and 63 pages of questions on substance disorders.

He then had to rate the patient's responses on a 0-4 scale of severity:

Here I was given a choice. I could “proceed directly to rating” and pull a number out of the air, or I could get a “detailed description of levels.” I went for the details, which turned out to be extensive, 3 pages of descriptions about “identity” and “self-direction” and “empathy” and “intimacy”. Was she a Level 2-”Excessive dependence on others for identity definition, with compromised boundary delineation”? Or did she have the “weak sense of autonomy/agency" and "poor or rigid boundary definition" of a Level 3? Or was her experience of autonomy/agency “virtually absent” and her boundaries “confused or lacking,” which earned her a Level 4? Was her self-esteem “fragile” (Level 3) or merely “vulnerable” (2), or perhaps riddled with “significant distortions” and “confusions” (4)? Was her capacity for empathy “significantly compromised,” “significantly limited,” or “virtually absent”? Was her desire for connection with others "desperate,” “limited,” or “largely based on meeting self-regulatory needs?”

I had no idea. And even if I had, or if I knew how to get this confused and confusing woman to parse it for me, there still loomed thirty pages or so to get through, box after box to check about her self and interpersonal functioning, her separation insecurity and depressivity, her negative affectivity and disinhibition, the types and facets and domains of her traits, hundreds of boxes, or so it seemed, before I could make my final diagnosis, and, with the authority vested in me as a Collaborating Investigator of the American Psychiatric Association, determine which of the constructs that deserve neither denigration nor worship, that aren't real but still can be measured from zero to four, that need to be taken seriously enough to warrant payment and maybe a round of medication but not so seriously that anyone would accuse them of existing, which fictive placeholder would join her height and blood pressure and her childood illnesses and surgeries and all the other facts of her medical life. At which point I realized that no matter what diagnosis I settled on, I wouldn’t so much have tamed her rapids as funneled them into the diagnostic turbines, raw material for the APA’s profitable mills.

This is the APA's definition of, "...easy to understand and use by both clinicians and patients."

When I first got the email, I forwarded it to Mr. Greenberg, with a note stating that I thought he would appreciate it. He was kind enough to reply, and wrote, "If it weren't so sad, it would be hilarious." I have to agree.








Friday, June 7, 2013

Learning from Diabetes

In a recent post, I wrote about how 126 became the cutoff for diabetes. It turns out that it was my fantasy about how 126 became the cutoff for diabetes. In response to the post, I got an email with a link to an article about the diagnosis of DM, which is, in the words of the person who sent it, "eerily like stuff going around re the DSM." I can't vouch for the accuracy of the article, but I'll summarize briefly.

A long time ago, back in the 70's, there were multiple standards for diagnosing diabetes. The reason for the multiple standards was that if you graph the sugars of a varied population at any given time, some will be elevated, but those don't necessarily correspond to the people who have diabetes.  Additionally, the graph never "jumps", so there's no clear cutoff point.

And at the time, there were limited treatments for diabetes, and essentially nothing to keep early type 2 from progressing. In addition, diabetes was quite stigmatized, and people with a diagnosis of DM could be refused health insurance, life insurance, employment, even a driver's license.

In 1978, the NIH convened a committee to establish a definition of diabetes, and the committee decided to place the cutoff higher than any standard had heretofore done, so that only people who unequivocally had DM would be given the diagnosis, and people who couldn't be helped anyway, such as early type 2 diabetics, would be spared the stigma, and its practical consequences.

And since a graph of a general population did not have a clear cut off point for DM, the committee looked at a subculture, the Pima Indians, whose graph did make a jump. Those Pima Indians whose Oral Glucose Tolerance Test was under 200 showed no symptoms of retinopathy, and those who did show signs of retinopathy had OGTT's over 240.

Then the committee decided to put the cutoff for fasting glucose at 140, higher than that of the typical diabetic Pima Indian, whose fasting glucose would hover around 120. Presumably this was done because at the time, OGTT was the test expected to be used to make a diagnosis, not fasting glucose.

In 1995, another committee was convened to re-examine the decision of the 1978 committee. This committee decided to use fasting glucose as the diagnostic test, presumably because it was cheaper, and it used a cutoff of 126, even though 121 seems to correspond with an OGTT of 200. They went with the highest number they could find in any study, specifically, a study of 13 Pacific populations.

There's more to the saga, but I'm gonna stop here with the diabetes. The take-home lesson for me is, Psychiatry is not such an outlier.

There are groups of people, including Gary Greenberg and his Book of Woe, who claim that Psychiatry is not as scientifically based as other medical specialties. Then there are other groups that claim it is scientific. Well, it appears to be at least as scientific as endocrinology.

A known disease entity, no one definitive diagnostic system, definition of disease determined by committee based on dubious scientific conclusions, the political stance not to further stigmatize people suffering from the disease, and a subsequent committee that examined the problems with the first committee's decisions, and then went on to make its own, new mistakes.

There is nothing new under the sun. A generation passes, and the world remains the same.

Read the article. It'll spook you. Even if it isn't accurate, it's exactly the same kind of rhetoric taking place now, about DSM-5.