|
It was a long time ago now. I had been a doctor but three days. Mrs
Gilmore (not her real name) had been brought to the emergency
department with chest pain. As I took her history, her voice was soft,
but her eyes were frightened.
When I had finished, I clasped her aged hand comfortingly. "Don't
worry", I said quietly, "It'll be alright".
At that moment the light left her eyes. The monitor called the arrest,
and white coats descended upon her like carrion birds to beat upon her
lifeless chest. When it was all over, when it was all written up, I
needed a moment and ambled, dazed, to the tea-room to sit.
I am still upset when a patient dies. We all are. Doctors tend to see
healing the sick as their raison d'être, and when a patient
dies it is hard to escape the notion that we have somehow failed. Even
those who claim they are comfortable with a patient's death often wear
such proud comfort emblazoned on their sleeves that we are prone to
doubt they truly know their minds. How much more upsetting is it when we
feel we have played a part in the death? In this issue of the Journal, Haverkate and colleagues report on a survey that,
among other things, addresses that question.1
For the survey, Dutch doctors were questioned on their emotional
reactions to their most recent cases of euthanasia, assisted
suicide, ending a patient's life without explicit request or the use
of medications in doses that the respondents believed were large
enough to have hastened a patient's death. Physicians' responses
were recorded as either "of comfort" (satisfied, relieved, etc) or
"of discomfort" (upset, burdened, etc).
While 75% of doctors who reported on a euthanasia case felt emotional
discomfort, this figure dropped to 58% for cases of assisted suicide.
In cases where an end-of-life- hastening medication had been
administered with the primary aim of symptom relief, a mere 18%
reported discomfort.
What are we to make of these figures and what are their implications for
Australian doctors? I would argue that, in general, the more a doctor
perceives herself or himself as an active participant in a patient's
death, the more upsetting she or he will find the death. While previous
generations of physicians would only rarely have seen themselves as
active agents in the dying process, this perception must now be
increasingly common. Our increasing ability to send death away when
it calls (or at least to detain it at the door) has also meant that we are,
more than ever before, in a position to judge that further efforts are
futile and that we should stand back and let death in. This feeling of
being an active agent is only magnified when we take active steps in the
process and help our patients to die with euthanasia or assisted
suicide. In this context, the relatively low rate of negative
emotional response when life was ended without explicit request
(34%) is worthy of special consideration. Surely here the doctor is as
active a participant as she or he is in euthanasia, but now without a
specific request from the patient? Why is she or he then less often
upset? The important factor in an emotional reaction is, however, not
what happened but how it was perceived. I suspect that emotional
discomfort is low in these cases because doctors generally believe
that death is already upon the patient and that they are doing little
more than to ease its way. Much as in the cases where medication is used
primarily for pain relief, the physician does not feel a strong sense
of agency in the patient's death. The finding by Haverkate et al that
end-of-life decisions thought to shorten life by more than one month
were much more troubling than those judged to shorten life by a lesser
time seems also to support this
the-more-agency-the-more-upsetting model.
Doctors must deal with their role in their patients' deaths in
Australia as much as in the Netherlands.2 While Dutch doctors can, and
do, openly seek support for their emotional reactions to the death of
patients, such support is likely much harder won in Australia. It is
not only that the current legal situation means that Australian
doctors who help their patients to die place themselves at risk of
harsh penalty if discovered. It is also, and perhaps more
importantly, that there is a culture within the Australian medical
community that a good doctor simply copes and gets on with it. This
culture deserves scrutiny and perhaps change. This issue of the
Journal is a good place to start.
I did not actively contribute to Mrs Gilmore's death, but as I sat in
the tea-room I must have wondered if I could have done more. After 20
minutes, I was back in the fray.
Christopher J Ryan
Consultation-Liaison Psychiatrist
Department of Psychiatry
Westmead Hospital, Westmead, NSW
- Haverkate I, van der Heide A, Onwuteaka-Philipsen BD, et al. The
emotional impact on physicians of hastening the death of a patient.
Med J Aust 2001; 175: 519-522.
-
Kuhse H, Singer P, Baume P, et al. End of life decisions in Australian
medical practice. Med J Aust 1997; 166: 191-196.
©MJA 2001
Make a
comment
Readers may print a single copy for personal use. No further
reproduction or distribution of the articles
should proceed without the permission of the publisher. For
permission, contact the
Australasian Medical Publishing Company.
Journalists are welcome to write news stories based on what they read here, but should acknowledge their source as "an article published on the Internet by The Medical Journal of Australia <http://www.mja.com.au>".
<URL: http://www.mja.com.au/>
© 2001 Medical Journal of Australia.
|