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Fine-tuning the thought process (book excerpt: How Doctors Think)

Massachusetts hematologist-oncologist Jerome Groopman, MD, examines how doctors arrive at clinical decisions.

By Jerome Groopman, MD, amednews contributor. Oct. 8, 2007.

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Book Excerpt
Book Excerpt
A peek inside what's new on the shelves on topics pertinent to physicians.

Dr. Groopman's book details why physicians' thinking can lead them astray and shows how to make the correct diagnosis. This excerpt explores the thought process of an emergency physician who missed a heart problem in a patient who appeared healthy.

On a spring afternoon several years ago, Evan McKinley was hiking in the woods near Halifax, Nova Scotia, when a pain in his chest stopped him in his tracks. McKinley was a [Canadian] forest ranger in his early 40s, trim and extremely fit, with straw-blond hair and chiseled features. He had had a growing discomfort in his chest for the past few days, but nothing as severe as this. He wasn't sweating or lightheaded, and didn't feel feverish. But each time he took a breath, the pain got worse. McKinley slowly made his way back through the woods to the shed that housed his office. He sat and waited for the pain to pass, but it didn't. As a forest ranger, he was used to muscle aches from scaling a steep rocky trail or jogging with a loaded pack on his back. But this was different, and he decided he should see a doctor immediately.

As it happened, Dr. Pat Croskerry was working in the emergency department that day. He took McKinley's measure: a wiry, muscular man wearing the distinctive bright olive bomber jacket and pants, much like an American park ranger's uniform. McKinley's face was ruddy, as would be expected of someone who spends most of his day working outdoors, and his brow was free of perspiration. Croskerry listened intently as McKinley described how his chest pains had increased over the past few days and how they had worsened today. Croskerry questioned him further to get a more precise description of his symptoms. McKinley said the pains stayed in the center of his chest but did not move down his arms, into his neck, or through to his back. The pain got no worse if he changed position, and even taking a really deep breath didn't make him feel faint.

Croskerry went over a checklist of risk factors for heart and lung disease. McKinley had never smoked and had no family history of heart attack, stroke, or diabetes. He laughed, as Croskerry did, when Croskerry used the term "sedentary lifestyle." McKinley added that he felt under no particular stress, his family life was fine and he loved his job, and he had never been overweight. Croskerry then did a physical examination. First he verified that the vital signs recorded by the triage nurse were correct. McKinley's blood pressure was 110/60, his pulse 60 and regular, as would be expected of an athletic man. Croskerry listened with particular care to McKinley's lungs and heart, especially when he took a deep breath, but everything sounded fine. His muscles were well developed, and when Croskerry pressed on the junction between McKinley's ribs and breastbone, McKinley felt no pain. There was no swelling or tenderness in his calves or thighs. Finally, the doctor ordered an electrocardiogram, a chest x-ray, and blood work that would include tests for oxygen level and cardiac enzymes that indicate heart damage. As he expected, all of these were normal.

"I'm not at all worried about your chest pain," Croskerry told McKinley. "You probably overexerted yourself in the field and strained some muscle. My suspicion for this coming from your heart is about zero." Deeply reassured, the forest ranger went home.

The next morning, Croskerry was off duty, and read part of a novel that he was keen to finish. He is an avid athlete and rowed on Canada's 1976 Olympic crew in Montreal. He stays in shape, and that day he had jogged four miles around the Halifax harbor. When he arrived in the emergency department in the early evening, he bumped into a colleague. "Very interesting case, that man you saw yesterday," the doctor said. "He came in this morning with an acute myocardial infarction."

Croskerry was stunned. He reviewed his notes on the emergency room chart. The colleague tried to reassure him. "If I had seen this guy, I wouldn't have gone as far as you did in ordering all those tests." But Croskerry found this cold comfort. It was not because he expected to be infallible. Rather, he recognized that he had made a common cognitive error that could have cost the forest ranger his life. "Clearly, I missed it," Croskerry told me after recounting McKinley's case. "And why did I miss it? I didn't miss it because of any egregious behavior or negligence. I missed it because my thinking was overinfluenced by how healthy this man looked." Croskerry's voice faltered for a moment. "Happily, he didn't die."

Chest pain is the second most common reason for a patient to visit an emergency room (abdominal pain is number one). Each year in the United States and Canada there are more than 6 million evaluations in the ER of patients like McKinley. But despite its frequency, chest pain is one of the most challenging symptoms for the clinician to unravel. In retrospect, Croskerry realized that when he saw Evan McKinley, the ranger was in the midst of unstable angina -- a crescendo of chest pain, caused by coronary artery disease, that usually prefigures a heart attack. "The unstable angina didn't show on the EKG, because 50% of such cases don't," Croskerry said in a voice that sounded to me as if he were lecturing himself. "His unstable angina did not show up on the cardiac enzymes because there wasn't yet injury to the heart muscle, and it didn't show up on the chest x-ray because the heart had not yet begun to fail to pump blood, so there was no fluid backup into the lungs."

The mistake Croskerry made is called a representativeness error: your thinking is guided by a prototype, so you fail to consider possibilities that contradict the prototype and thus attribute the symptoms to the wrong cause. Croskerry told me how his eyes had fixed on McKinley's trim frame and his elegant olive uniform, and how the ranger's physique and chiseled features reminded him of a young Clint Eastwood -- all strong associations with health and vigor. Yes, there were unusual aspects to McKinley's angina; his pain was not typical of coronary artery disease, nor did the physical examination and tests point to the heart. But, Croskerry emphasized, that was precisely the point: "You have to be prepared in your mind for the atypical and not so quickly reassure yourself, and your patient, that everything is okay." When Croskerry now teaches students and interns about such errors, he uses Evan McKinley as an example.

Excerpted from "How Doctors Think" by Jerome Groopman, MD, published by Houghton Mifflin Co. Copyright © 2007 by Jerome Groopman. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. All rights reserved; $26. Note that the work appearing herein is protected under copyright laws, and reproduction of the text in any form for distribution is strictly prohibited. The right to reproduce or transfer the work via any medium must be secured with the copyright owner.

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 ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: 

Author Q&A

Why is it important to explore the thought process physicians go through to reach a diagnosis?

This whole issue of misdiagnosis is very much sort of the elephant in the living room. All of us as doctors know that we have made important misjudgments in diagnosis and misguided care, but certainly I and no one I spoke to really ever had a vocabulary or a framework to understand these. ... Physicians really want to do better. No one wants to make a misdiagnosis. What this book does is to sort of extract from this new cognitive science insights and understandings about how the mind works when pressed for time and facing uncertainty.

Are physicians comfortable talking about a misdiagnosis with colleagues?

It's generally been something that has occurred in the doctor's lounge or in the corridor. These are painful, these mistakes. The book says, "OK, let's open a conversation about how we can best remedy this." ...With regard to the story of a [misdiagnosed] little girl [in the book], I received a wonderful e-mail from a pediatric immunologist at a major academic center who said that he had just had the precise case with the precise mistake and that they were now able to use it as a teaching case.

What can physicians do to become better thinkers in the clinical process?

All of the algorithms and guidelines and computer systems can be useful once you know what's going on. Otherwise, the risk is, to be crude, garbage in, garbage out. Unless you extract high-quality information from a patient's history, looking at a symptom list on the computer screen is not going to help you because you don't get the symptom that's really going to solve the puzzle and crack the case. What I think medical education needs to do is to make sure that we teach young doctors how to communicate and how to really obtain a history. ... This is really tough to do in 15 or 20 minutes. The reimbursement system is completely lopsided. It doesn't pay for thinking. It doesn't pay for time.

It's very important to spend the time because you can get so much information, which will lead you to the correct diagnosis quicker and can also reduce the use of expensive tests. We should [receive] payment for spending time and really thinking.

What can physicians do when they have a complex medical condition that requires more than 15 minutes?

A colleague of mine said that ... when she sees she is facing a complicated problem or the history is not leading her anywhere, she'll get some baseline tests then reschedule the visit within a week or two if it's not an urgent emergency. She'll say to the patient, "I'm going to think more about what's going on here. I want you and your family members to think more about this because I don't have an immediate diagnosis for you. Let's reconvene in 10 days or two weeks, and then we'll have another 20-minute visit or maybe a half-hour and we'll try to get to the bottom of it." I think that's one way to finesse the system.

Interview by Damon Adams

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Copyright 2007 American Medical Association. All rights reserved.
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