Wrong Way To Lose A Patient

Daily Observer

September 8, 1975

 

            S.Q. Lapius was not wearing his better mood when he arrived home.  He affected a scowl which allowed his glasses to slip down his nose.  With focus gone astray he tripped over a foot stool and barely recovered his balance, sparing me the embarrassing effort of attempting to help him upright from the supine.

            “Must have had a busy day,” I commented.

            “Quite.  I lost a patient,” he said.

            “That happens to the best of us,” I commiserated.

            “No I don’t mean that way.  I mean there is a patient who will not avail herself to my services anymore.”

            “That happens to the best of us too,” I commiserated again.

            “But this should not have happened.  She may be in jeopardy,” he said.

            “Then the other doctor will straighten it out,” I said.

            ‘Not if her husband has his way.” Lapius said.

            “Out with it Simon.  You are being either coy or cryptic,” I said.

            Lapius poured himself a sherry and sat down, hoisted his feet to the hassock and sipped slowly.  “Maybe women’s lib should interest themselves in this case,” he suggested.

            “Maybe they should,” I said.  “What happened?”

            “My patient was a woman.  One of those people who come to the doctor to hear confirmations of health.  Let’s call her Fearful.  She brings her husband to the consultations to cushion her against the bad news, should it arrive, and to protect her from evil – that is, the doctor.  Let’s call him Overlord.  Well, as luck would have it, a complete physical examination on this apparently healthy female turned up some abnormalities in the protein patterns and the highest carcinoembryogenic antigen level I have yet recorded.  I suggested to her that she must have a barium enema, gastrointestinal series, proctoscopy and perhaps other studies.  After all, Harry, bowel lesions are curable when caught early,” he explained as if I were on of his freshmen students.

            “She balked,” I prompted.

            “Quite the contrary.  She agreed.  But a few days later her husband called and cancelled the tests.  I asked him to come to the office,” Lapius said.

            “Did he oblige?” I asked.

            ‘Indeed.  He wanted to know why I had ordered the tests, and I wanted to know why she cancelled them.  I explained that there was a good statistical possibility that she had a cancer hidden somewhere, and that her life might certainly be threatened if we failed to look for it.  He thought about that for awhile, then decided that tests would not be done.”

            “A few weeks later she was in the office for some minor complaint and I reintroduced the subject.  ‘After all, madam,’ I said.  ‘I ordered the tests for a good purpose, not frivolously.’  Until then I had decided that it would be cruel to tell her why I had wanted the tests, but now I felt that I must try to break down her resistance.  I explained as carefully as I could the implications of the tests results, and that indeed if she did have cancer of the bowel early detection would be lifesaving.  As I expected, she said she would think it over, which, translated, meant that she would go home and talk it over with Overlord.”

            “Two weeks later I received a nasty letter from Overlord who excoriated me for informing his wife of her risks.  He accused me of purposely frightening her, and implied obliquely there would be a law suit if my disclosure cased her undue mental anguish.”

            “Wow,” I exclaimed.  “He could never win a suit like that.”

            “Of course not,” Lapius snapped.  “But he certainly is taking on an odd responsibility.  I have not been aware that being a husband confers life and earth powers over a wife.”

            “Certainly you must be correct. Are you going to answer him?” I asked.

            “I did.  Although it won’t do any good.  I pointed out that unless he had assumed legal guardianship, or had the power of attorney to act in her behalf in medical matters, he had no right to interfere,” he said.

            “Did it occur to you that this might be the perfect crime?”

            “I didn’t bother with that, Harry, because I knew it would occur to you.”