The patient, not the test, comes first in
treating chronic fatigue, writes Professor Ian Hickie.
A physician colleague recently described how from
the moment a new patient enters his consulting room he is thinking
of what set of tests to order to confirm his clinical diagnosis.
His heart sinks if the patient presents non-specific
problems that don't fit a clear pathophysiology.
As a psychiatrist, I rarely have the luxury of confirming
my clinical diagnosis with laboratory tests, but I also have the pleasure
of making syndrome diagnoses that are meaningful and translate into
real patient outcomes.
The topic my colleague was discussing was patients
who present with chronic fatigue. From his perspective, such encounters
are rarely satisfying.
As much of my clinical practice is with these patients,
I was struck by the differences in our approach.
He was not only afraid of being conned by the patient,
but also of missing some rare but important (medical) diagnosis.
Following accepted wisdom, he saw chronic fatigue
as largely a diagnosis of exclusion, a ragbag of non-specific mental
disorders which required little further professional input.
Patients were sent back to their GP with the note
that no pathology could be detected to explain the symptoms and that
the patient should be reassured that no further investigation was required.
Clinically, I deal largely with syndromes that are
based on personal reports of non-observable symptoms (major depression,
panic disorder). These result in considerable disability if left untreated.
By contrast, when actively diagnosed and treated
I expect good outcomes. When I meet patients with chronic fatigue I
don't expect to order lots of tests and I make the diagnosis actively
when the patient has the characteristic syndromal features (not only
chronic fatigue but also non-restorative sleep, generalised musculoskeletal
pain, cognitive symptoms and irritable mood).
It is not simply a diagnosis based on laboratory
exclusion. I then present a model of brain-related abnormalities which
give rise to such symptoms (after infection, in association with depression,
or after other insults to circadian rhythm in genetically susceptible
individuals).
We then negotiate and plan a treatment model to correct
the sleep-wake cycle problem. If needed, I employ psychotropic agents
to treat depression, anxiety, sleep or pain.
In most patients, the response is gratifying. Perhaps
physicians, and more importantly, GPs, just don't have these sorts
of experiences any more.
I presented this approach recently to psychiatrists
largely working in the medicolegal field. They, like the physician,
were afraid of being caught out by these patients.
"Are they really disabled?" was the common question.
Although psychiatrists have argued cogently that patients with depression
and severe anxiety disorders are among the most disabled people in
the commnity, these doctors felt this somatic type of subjective experience
might not be legitimate.
Clearly, this group of patients creates difficulties
not only for the general physicians but also the wider medical community.
While some of the reasons for this may lie with certain patient attitudes
and behaviours (e.g., rejection of medical explanations, attraction
to alternative practitioners, rejection of psychological explanations
and interventions), the major problem is surely the way in which medicine
is now practised (even by psychiatrists).
The independent test (including pseudo-tests like DSM-IV
criteria for psychiatric disorder) rather than the patient's experience
is the accepted benchmark for suffering. If a patient has a test result
they can legitimately enter the system (medical, insurance, disability).
If not, we reject them and then they are at war with us.
Primary care medicine is rich with patients with
non-specific somatic syndromes (chronic fatigue, chronic pain, daily
headache, fibromyalgia, irritable bowel) who are disabled and are largely
dealt with by extensive medical investigation. Rarely do they receive
adequate recognition or appropriate behavioural interventions.
Being told "there is nothing wrong with you" is not
a helpful intervention—even if it is meant to say there is no other
clear pathology to worry about.
The way we practise drives these patients into the
hands of the alternative therapists and probably promotes both chronicity
and alienation from conventional treatments.
It may be time to get back to accepting that patients
and not lab tests suffer, and that successful interventions treat people
rather than abnormal investigations.
The chronic fatigue world thrives on rejection. Doctors
reject the nature of the patients' complaints. Patients reject the
doctors' attempts at reassurance. Patients reject the tests they are
offered as not approrpiate since they aim to exclude rather than recognise
pathology. All parties reject the involvement of behavioural medicine.
Most importantly, those who work largely with syndrome
sets (clinical psychiatrists and psychologists) are often most ill
informed about the nature of these disorders.
It is timely for GPs to once again seize control
over these issues and combine the principles of patient understanding,
limited investigation, continuity of care and symptomatic interventions
to assist these patients to the various levels of recovery they are
able to achieve.
Professor Hickie is professor of community
psychiatry at the University of NSW.