Baloney!
by
Robert Klassen
by Robert Klassen
DIGG THIS
One of the
comments on my last
essay made me think. Imagine, if you will, sitting alone in
a hospital cafeteria at lunchtime, and a group of employees wearing
their colorful pajamas is sitting at the next table. You overhear
this conversation:
"Don’t
you use sterile instruments?"
"No.
It’s all baloney. Hey, they’re clean, you know. I wash them myself."
What would
you think? If you knew nothing else about medicine, you know that
instruments, whatever they are, should be sterile, whatever that
means. You also know that you should quickly and quietly leave this
hospital.
Now suppose
you overhear a slightly different conversation:
"Don’t
you follow universal precautions?"
"No.
It’s all baloney. Besides, we don’t have time."
What would
you think? A professional says that something or other isn’t necessary
because it isn’t true, and it wastes time. Seems plausible.
If I heard
either of these fictional conversations, the second one would make
me run, not walk, to the nearest exit. The principle underlying
sterilization of instruments, eliminating bacteria, is similar to
the principle of universal precautions, eliminating the spread of
bacteria, i.e., infectious disease.
There is no
hocus-pocus to universal precautions: Keep the other guy’s bodily
secretions where they belong. Wash hands properly, wear gloves,
gowns, masks, hats, and booties when necessary. When is it necessary?
Aye, that’s the question.
Please allow
me to digress on my own education at this point. As a student of
philosophy, literature, and languages in 1963, I walked into a hospital
and applied for a job. They made me an orderly, and a middle-aged
nurse’s aide taught me bedside patient care. Six months later I
talked my way into the operating room, and learned the technician’s
trade from watchful and demanding RNs. I learned how to clean an
operating room, how to wash instruments, wrap them, autoclave (sterilize)
them, how to prep patients, how to scrub for surgery, how to pass
instruments, and so on. Five years later I switched to respiratory
therapy full-time and focused on intensive care treatment. This
was a learn and perform education with firm and set rules and only
one alternative: get out.
I am far removed
from standard systems of education today – my role as a clinical
instructor ended in 1979 – so I am not qualified to judge what’s
going on today, but I have had some hints. For example, I had to
re-certify in CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) in 2000 to keep
my license. I was working for a large teaching medical center. After
the session I asked the RN who ran it about the practicality of
some changes in procedure. He couldn’t answer. He said that he had
never actually participated in a real CPR.
This raises
more issues than I can address here, but I wonder how medical professionals
are taught about infection control these days? How does a practitioner
arrive at the conclusion that it’s all baloney? The very idea startled
me, yet I get to look at and live with the results of that idea
every day: an arm crippled by a post-op staph infection. It never
occurred to me before that the surgeon might think infection control
is baloney. What are these people being taught? I don’t know.
The continual
spread of infections in hospitals has raised monumental obstacles
for the staff. One isolation room out of forty rooms is tolerable,
if tiresome, but a dozen or more strain the whole organization to
its limits. People will naturally break rules when the situation
becomes intolerable, so isolation doors are left open, staff foregoes
the gowns and gloves, and maybe even the hand washing. "Oh,
I’m just popping in to check." Right. Or the gofer from radiology,
who knows nothing, transports a patient from the ward to the x-ray
department with no precautions whatever.
What’s
the next step in this process? Why, to downgrade the problem, of
course. What’s the big deal if everybody is infected? And when it
starts killing off the debilitated? That’ll be good for society.
I am hearing that kind of talk already.
What’s
the solution? Remove interior designers and bureaucrats from planning
committees, remove all carpeting and cloth curtains, strip hospitals
down to hard surfaces that can be disinfected, retrain all housekeeping
staff for that job, and put some hard-nosed, experienced RNs in
charge of enforcing infection control procedures. That would be
a good beginning, given the mess we’ve got. Better would be a money-back-guarantee:
No Infection, or your money back. Don’t hold your breath waiting
for that one.
American
medicine is a half-stride into a giant step backwards toward the
superstition and magic of the Dark Ages. The reasons are multiple,
but we can trace the symptoms back to the ultimate source: the State.
Only a hypothesis? Sure. So here’s a prediction: The CDC will change
the definition of hospital infection to enable a relaxation of the
rules. It’s all baloney, after all.
November
25, 2006
Robert
Klassen [send him mail]
retired from a forty-year career in critical-care respiratory therapy.
He is the author of five books, including Atlantis:
A Novel about Economic Government,
and Economic
Government, which describe a solution
to the problem of political government. Here's
his web site.
Copyright
© 2006 Robert Klassen
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