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Being human Medicine Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine

Mysteries – In Medicine and In Life – And How to Navigate Them

He died. We could see his heart on the echocardiogram. It looked normal. And yet he still died of heart failure. There wasn’t anything I or anyone could do to have stopped that.  It was a tragedy. It was also a mystery. What was wrong with him? Why was he going into such bad heart failure?

Let’s roll the timeline back to a couple of other stories.

Story number 1: Headaches. 

Disabling awful headaches in a woman who had never had problems with headaches. She was a highly functional working wife and mother. Her life was busy. And then her life ground to a halt. The usual migraine preventive treatments and therapies didn’t work. Local experts didn’t help. The major university center didn’t help. The highly specialized headache institute didn’t help. In desperation she went to the Mayo Clinic. There I found some wisdom. The doctor at the Mayo Clinic called me. 

“Mike, I don’t know what she has. Clearly something has happened to her. There is something wrong. We do not know what it is or what to do to help her. In my experience, we usually figure this out eventually. Sometimes it is a new or unusual presentation of something we know about. Sometimes it is a new disease. It might not help you much, but we need to just support her and continue to wait and keep looking.”

I left primary care for cardiology. A few years later I ran into her. 

Me: “How are you? How are your headaches?”

Her: “I am better now. It took a lot of time but eventually I got better.”

Me: “Did anyone ever figure out what was wrong with you?”

Her: “I was the first case in West Michigan of the West Nile Virus!”

Mystery. Solved.

Story Number 2: Shortness of breath

She was short of breath. It was a sudden change. Her life was being trimmed back by the new and progressive thing that was pulling her back. It was like a belt restraining her from the busy life that she had always enjoyed. Her brain was busy, active and young. Something in her body kept her from living what she had taken for granted in the past. 

EKG: normal. Chest x-ray: normal. Echo: normal. PFTs: normal. Stress nuclear study: normal. Cardiopulmonary exercise test: Reduced exercise tolerance but no clear cause.

I couldn’t find anything to help her. Eventually we talked about doing the best she could to learn to live with it. We talked about gradually progressive exercise and rehab. 

This patient I also left to my colleagues when I left primary care for cardiology fellowship.

Fast forward again about 5 years. I was rounding in the hospital. I walked into a patient room and there she was sitting in the chair in my patient’s room. She jumped up and came over and hugged me. I was there to see her husband but for a moment we talked about her.

Her: “Thank you so much for pushing for answers! I am cured!”

Me: “That is wonderful. What was wrong? What did they figure out?”

Her: “I got even worse. When I did they saw my heart rate going really low. They put in a pacemaker and it brought me back to my old self. I can do everything again now.”

Mystery. Solved.

Maybe the doctor from Mayo was right. 

Maybe there are times in life when no matter how hard you try you can’t solve the mystery. 

  • It doesn’t mean that there isn’t something wrong.
  • It doesn’t mean that there is no mystery.
  • It just means that you may not be able to solve it in the moment.
  • Sometimes, you have to just keep asking the questions and looking for answers.
  • Sometimes you will get the answers later.

Soon after I finished fellowship I saw a patient with severe shortness of breath. The echocardiogram showed normal ejection fraction (squeeze of the heart). The heart walls were a little thick. I did a right heart catheterization and an endomyocardial biopsy. When we do an endomyocardial biopsy, we take a few tiny pieces of the heart muscle and send them to the pathologist to look at under the microscope. The biopsy showed green birefringence with congo red staining. It was cardiac amyloid. Further testing confirmed that it was ATTR (transthyretin) amyloid. This is a progressive condition where the body makes an abnormal form of a common protein. This protein then essentially gets “stuck” in the tissues. In this case the protein was getting stuck and filling up his heart muscle slowly over time. As it did so it made the heart thick and stiff. In order to pump, the heart has to be able to relax and fill with blood. If the heart cannot fill with the usual amount of blood, it cannot pump enough blood. The heart’s squeeze can look completely normal on an echocardiogram. The walls might look a little bit thickened but overall the appearance on echo can often be of a normally functioning heart.

Eventually I diagnosed more and more patients with ATTR amyloid. I called a friend from fellowship. He was seeing the same thing. He had started a “cardiac amyloid” center. Eventually we decided that ATTR amyloid was likely much more common than anyone thought. We in medicine had just not been recognizing it.

Since that time physicians in the heart failure world have become well aware of ATTR amyloid. We diagnose a lot of patients with it. We now have treatments for it. We also see that what we diagnose is likely the “tip of the iceberg”. There are likely a lot more patients with mysterious heart failure that might have amyloid. We don’t really yet know how many of these patients there are. One survey of patients over 60 with heart failure and a normal appearing echo suggested that amyloid was the cause 13% of the time. Another study found that of patients presenting for transcatheter aortic valve replacement (TAVR), one out of every 7 patients had amyloid.

Mystery. Solved (partly.)

My patient at the start of this blog died with bad heart failure but he had a normal ejection fraction. In retrospect I suspect that his poor heart performance was likely ATTR amyloid. 

What does this mean beyond the bounds of the practice of medicine?

There are times when the world does not make sense. You know that something is wrong. You do not know what is wrong. As hard as you try to understand, in the moment you are unable to figure it out. You do not know what to do about it. 

What do you do?

It is important to know that just because you can’t explain what is wrong, it doesn’t mean that nothing is wrong.  Sometimes it means that you are just not able to figure it out in the moment. It could be a variation on some theme that you know well. It could be a new problem that you have not faced before. Time can be your friend. Sometimes in the future you will come up with answers. Sometimes time will bring healing on its own. Sometimes time will bring you an effective solution to the problem. 

  • Step 1: Admit that there is something wrong.
  • Step 2: Do your best to try to figure it out. Seek expert advice and input. 
  • Step 3: Supportive care. Do the best you can to try to figure out how to live within the limitations of the problem.
  • Step 4: Acknowledge that just because you don’t get an answer, it doesn’t mean that nothing is wrong. Retain hope that time will bring answers and resolution.

This clearly applies in medical practice. 

It often applies in life too. 

It amazes me how things that used to puzzle me, now, with age, make sense. 

Sarah (my wife) has noted how with age certain passages of Scripture that used to be confusing, now make perfect sense. I agree. No one could have explained them to us at the time. We needed to live it. Time brought wisdom and understanding. Many times the answers didn’t come in an abrupt or blinding way. Often the answers came slowly and then in retrospect, made perfect sense. 

Why couldn’t Glenda have just had Dorothy tap her heels at the start of the journey? 

Mysteries. 

Sometimes – with time – Solved.

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Being human Medicine Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine Reflections on the Christian Life Updates on my health

The Crossing and Lessons Learned Along the Way, Part 3: Sailing the Wind You Have

This is the third in a series of posts about sailing across Lake Michigan. On July 12, 2018 we sailed overnight from Holland, MI to Chicago, IL. We did a second overnight crossing on October 4, 2019. On the first trip we left around 8 pm. We planned to arrive around noon. In reality we didn’t get in until about 4:30 pm.  

Oops. What went wrong? Answer: The wind.  

On our second trip I applied lessons learned from the first. We sailed through the night leaving at around 4 pm and arriving at around 5:30 am. I planned a lot of extra time. The straight distance from Holland to Racine is about 70 miles. With tacking back forth we travelled about 90 miles. It took us about 14 ½ hours. We were powered entirely by the wind. 

For our trip to Chicago, I had great plans. For weeks before I plotted out the distance and thought about when we would leave and arrive. Everything started out perfectly. We had a west wind. We needed to go southwest to Chicago. That meant that we were on a close reach. That is a very nice and fast point of sail. 

I used the iNavX App on my iPhone and iPad. It was tracked our progress. It continually told me an updated ETA (estimated time of arrival). The close reach was pulling us along so well that it said we would arrive by 10 in the morning. That was earlier than I planned but I loved it. I hoped the marina would let us into a slip or place to tie up early. We would have more time to walk around Chicago and shop and for JJ to connect with friends.

Then the wind shifted to the southwest. That meant that it was right on our nose. That meant that if we tried to head straight to Chicago we would be in the “no-sail” zone. Our boat can sail anywhere from about 35-40 degrees off the wind or more. Closer than that the sails “luff” and the boat stops moving. I had to shift our heading off to the south. 

As I did the iNavX App started showing me a later and later ETA. The ETA became noon, then 2 pm then later. Through the night I trimmed the sails in tight against the boat. I held the helm into the wind as tight as the boat would handle and still be powered by the wind. That is a called being “close hauled.” 

At one point it, in the middle of the night, it became clear that our plans were going to be upset by the wind. I started the engine. The engine is positioned directly by the stern bed. The old diesel engine clanged away. In spite of the soundproofing in the box around it, it is loud for anyone in the stern bed. Eventually the face of one my crew popped up from the cabin and complained that it would be impossible to get any sleep with the engine on. I turned it back off and continued trying my best to get as close as possible to Chicago. 

First mate, JJ!

Early in the morning JJ was on watch with me as we watched a glorious sunrise over the water. We snapped pictures and enjoyed the rich colors. As we did so I noticed a problem.  Hmm. The sun comes up in the east. So… if we see the sun positioned as it was in the picture below, our bow was just a little bit off of the east. That would mean we were pointed south (or maybe even southeast). We were not pointed toward Chicago. We were pointed toward Indiana. I was going to have to come about (turn the boat through the wind onto the opposite tack) to correct our course. 

Let’s see: The sun comes up in the East. So that means we are headed … Southeast? Oops. Guess we better come about!

JJ and I prepared to come about. The rest were sleeping (or pretending to do so) down below in the cabin. We turned the boat through the wind and trimmed the sails to the new heading. We  went from being on a starboard tack to being on a port tack. This meant that the boat went from being hiked up (angled) onto its port side to being hiked up onto its starboard side. As it did so we heard “roll, roll, cathump!” I am not sure who fell out of bed but clearly they were not pleased! 

An hour or so later, Sarah came outside to the cockpit in the morning with a look of optimism on her face, “Can you see the Chicago skyline?” 

Uh. Well. No. 

We have a little bit longer to go.  

How much longer to go?

Like maybe another 8-9 hours to go.

In the end we made it to Chicago. We did end up motor sailing part of the way. But we made it. And we did our best to use the wind that we had. 

It was exciting to see the Chicago skyline as we finally made it to Chicago!

The principle lesson: You have to sail the wind that you have rather than the wind you hoped for.

For our trip to Racine, I did a few things differently. First I brought only two other crew members. This gave us more options for sleeping. We could better angle or prop ourselves to counter the hiking up of the boat under sail. We could also move away from the engine if we ended up needing to motor sail. I also planned a large cushion of time without any real agenda for after we arrived.

On October 4, 2019 at around 4 pm in the afternoon we left Holland, MI. As we got into Lake Michigan we hoisted the sails. At the start the wind was at our back and to one side. We were on broad reach. Later the wind shifted to being directly behind us. This meant that we would be on a run most of the way.

You would think this would be ideal. It actually is not. It can be a challenge to find the best sail configuration to handle it. The heavy waves would cause the sails to luff (sag) in spite of fairly steady winds. They would luff from the waves and then fill with wind again. When they filled with wind they would jerk straining all of the rigging on the boat. If I kept directly on a run (wind directly behind me) there was a risk of an inadvertent jibe. A jibe is when the sails suddenly shift from one side of the boat to the other. As the boom swings around it can carry tremendous force. It can injure the crew or seriously damage the rigging on the boat.

I ended up with only the mainsail up. I had it extended far out to one side. I had the genoa (large sail on the front of the boat) out for a while at the start of the trip. It would keep collapsing with each large wave. Eventually I pulled it in. For the mainsail I rigged a jibe preventer. That is a line that is attached to the boom to prevent it from jerking backwards. That kept the rigging and mainsail from luffing as we went through each rise and fall and roll of the waves. I kept us on a broad reach. I sailed as close to our heading to Racine as possible but yet off the wind just enough to still have enough force on the mainsail to keep it from luffing as we went through the waves. 

In order to make it to Racine, based on the winds, we needed to tack back and forth a few times. With each tack I needed to undo and re-rig the jibe preventer. I was careful to always be clipped into a safety harness whenever I left the cockpit. I didn’t take chances. With the waves between 4 and 6 feet it was a challenge, nonetheless.

I think I like sailing because of these challenges. You have to sail the wind you are given rather than just the wind that you hoped for. 

Life is the same way. We can spend a lot of time bemoaning what we have been given or not given. It doesn’t change anything. A truly wise person is one who is able to see the truth and respond to it. Can I be wise enough to accept the challenge of the circumstances that are in front of me and come up with the best response?

By wishing I could not get the wind to shift 30 degrees to make the journey easier. I had to think through the various options available to us and then put a plan in action. The principles are clear: (1) Find the facts as much you are able. (2) Think about your options. (3) Act on them. 

The COVID 19 pandemic has been a huge and unexpected shift in the wind for all of us. What can you do to respond to it? What options or choices do you have? It does little good to only complain that the circumstances are not what you want. How are you going to handle the reality that is front of you? 

Sarah and I have been asking, “What is the Lord doing in our country and our world through all of the stuff that has been happening in 2020?” It has been a crazy year that I could not have anticipated in any way. It is only natural and important for us to ask this. We haven’t come up with any good answers. In the end we have been left with this: God is in control. We have to sail the wind we have been given rather than the wind we hoped for. 

For the past month I have had a resurgence of my symptoms of adrenal insufficiency. I don’t know what has brought them on. At times I have had fatigue that stops me in my tracks. With it I have had diffuse muscle aches. I also have been feeling lightheaded again. Sometimes I have felt “presyncopal”. This is a medical term that means feeling like you are going to pass out. I have noticed my vision gray out or starting to tunnel if I stood up from my chair or changed positions too quickly. I messaged my doctors. They did labs. They indicated cortisol and aldosterone deficiencies. They had me start back on a low dose of hydrocortisone. Later they added some fludrocortisone. These medicines have helped some. I also have made a point to rest more. That has helped a lot. 

I don’t like it. I have things that I want to do. I don’t want to have limits on me or my stamina at work or at home. 

Several years ago, one of our nurses described me as being like a duck. She said that I would look calm and still on top. But underneath my feet would be madly kicking away to drive me to my goal. In the midst of starting and building our ventricular assist device and heart transplant programs, I set a personal goal of getting at least 5 hours of sleep when I was not on call. That meant that I could stay up late and yet still get up early to keep up with everything I wanted to do. I can’t do that anymore. I am being forced to go to bed on time and not get up early. There are things that I am not getting done. My email inbox fills, and I cannot empty it. 

In July 2018 we sailed from Holland to Chicago. As the winds shifted we found that it took us a lot longer than we had hoped or planned. A year later we made the trip to Racine. For that trip we sailed the entire way. On that trip the winds were more favorable, and we made it in 2-3 hours ahead of what I had planned. Each journey required different sail trim and techniques. I didn’t get a choice in what wind we had. I had to sail the wind that existed rather than the wind that I wanted.

So also, in life there are a lot things that we don’t get any choice about. Sometimes the circumstances will mess up our plans. Sometimes it means that we end up going in the wrong direction for a while. Sometimes it makes us late and we have to change our plans. Sometimes it requires us to improvise and come up with new ideas or techniques. Sometimes it pushes us to things earlier than we had planned.

I don’t like the conditions that COVID 19 has imposed on us. I don’t like putting a mask on whenever I walk into a store. I don’t like wearing a mask all day at work. I want to travel. I want to gather with groups of friends. But the question is not what I want, but how I am going to handle the conditions that are in front of me.

I don’t like not having the endurance or stamina that I used to have. It occurs to me that I have lived my life with my adrenal glands cranking out cortisol to keep up with my internal drive. Now I have only one adrenal gland and it is not willing to keep up with that schedule. I don’t like that. But the question is not what I want, but how I am going to handle the conditions that are in front of me.

I guess it means that I need to sail the wind I have rather than the wind that I hoped for.

This was our crew for the trip to Chicago. We sailed Friday night into Saturday. This was Sunday morning. We sailed back in the rain.
The captain (me) and the admiral (Sarah) in Chicago with Navy Pier in the background.
Life at sea. Tucked safely in the cabin during the rain on our way back home from Chicago.
Sarah preparing our lunch while underway. Jim bravely stayed outside on watch in the rain while we relaxed down below.