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Oxford Handbook of
Clinical Immunology
Gavin Spickett
Oxford University Press,
£19.95, pp 714
ISBN 019262721X
Rating: ★★★
A
s with many of the biosciences, the
exciting developments in immunology reported in the literature often
seem slightly divorced from current clinical
practice. Moreover, most general textbooks
Illness and Culture in the
Postmodern Age
David B Morris
University of California Press,
£17.50, pp 360
ISBN 0 520 20869 2
Rating: ★★★★
T
he postmodern view of our world is
simultaneously terrifying and liberating. By the start of this century, the
great explanation of religion, promising
perfection in an everlasting life after death,
had given way to the big utopian political
visions, which promised a perfect society in
this life. Through the middle part of the century, these visions were inexorably corrupted into monstrous dystopias, and now,
in our postmodern world, the resulting disillusion has fostered a deep distrust of all
comprehensive explanations of, and solutions to, the human predicament. The
notion of absolute truth has given way to an
acceptance of multifaceted truths and the
Reviews are rated on a 4 star scale
(4=excellent)
BMJ VOLUME 320 8 JANUARY 2000 www.bmj.com
of immunology are based on teaching and
tend to be visual and referenced. Those that
are comprehensive tend to be bulky and discursive, but not very convenient for reference. The Oxford Handbook of Clinical
Immunology fills this “convenience gap” and
provides a satisfying source of essential basic
information that fits the white coat pocket.
This book will be used frequently by
specialist clinical immunologists, medical
specialists, and scientists because it is a
superb reference source. It covers concisely
the information that is relevant to managing
a patient with an immunological disease
within the diversity of clinical medicine. The
clinical information is supported by clear
advice on the associated laboratory investigations and their interpretation.
It works by virtue of its excellent layout
and indexing. Despite the detail, the sections
are written simply, which makes the information, and experience, of the author more
accessible. The section on primary immunodeficiencies is a particular strength. A quick
scan for contemporary or contentious
issues, such as anaphylaxis or antineutrophil cytoplasmic antibody, demonstrates that the text is up to date. A scan also
shows that chemical names are correct—a
sure guide to editorial and proofreading
skills.
This is done in a comfortable handbook
size with small but crisp type. The 714 pages
are interspersed with blank pages for
making the inevitable notes when assimilating what can be learned from patients into
the established wisdom.
Gavin Spickett has bitten the “magic
bullet” and has written the book that he, and
I, wish had existed during our formative
years in immunology.
legitimacy of a range of approaches to the
same problem. This challenge to the big
explanations enriches our understanding
but shakes our security. Patterns dissolve,
leaving us bewildered and disorientated but
with seemingly endless possibilities of creating new patterns and finding new truths and
new ways of relating to the world, each
other, and ourselves.
The central thesis of David Morris’s fascinating book is that illness is a mental,
emotional, and bodily event constructed at
the crossroads of biology and culture. He
argues that, as our culture changes, so must
our view of illness, and that the postmodern
gaze introduces both new terrors and new
freedoms into the arena of health and health
care. Many of the terrors seem to arise from
our undiminished yearning for perfection.
The focus has simply shifted from society to
the individual and from the soul to the body.
Our obsession with the utopian body makes
anorexia nervosa a quintessentially postmodern illness and, more broadly, fuels a fear of
illness and disease that is out of all proportion
to the unprecedented health and longevity
enjoyed by those in the developed world. Biomedical science clings to the wreckage of an
all embracing, essentially modernist explanation of the human experience of illness and
disease, while simultaneously promising
much more than it can deliver. If the explanation aspires to be comprehensive, it follows
that death will come to be seen as a failure of
science, and ultimately the desperate excesses
of medical intervention drive the calls for
legalised euthanasia.
Biomedical research, with its insistent
prioritisation of the methodologies of the
randomised controlled trial and frequentist
statistics, perpetuates the notion of absolute
truth. But in a postmodern world all
generalisations, all categories, and all classifications are open to challenge, and slowly
this new perspective is infiltrating medicine.
The doctor’s claim to knowledge of objective
fact is challenged by the immediacy of the
patient’s subjective experience. Insights
from anthropology, sociology, philosophy,
psychology, and poetry challenge the medical annexation of truth and profoundly alter
our understanding. Each discipline uses
words in a different way, and so each can
contribute to reducing the dimension of suffering and pain that remains beyond
language. Healing must always seek to give
voice to suffering, and the greater the range
of words and meanings we have at our
disposal, the clearer the voice becomes.
Morris eschews a conclusion as being
incompatible with the open ended nature of
the postmodern view, and a summarising
book review may be a similarly suspect
endeavour. Perhaps all I can say is that my
view of the world, and my work within it, is
more complex, and my life proportionately
richer, for having read this book.
Charles McSharry principal clinical scientist,
clinical immunology, Western Infirmary, Glasgow
Iona Heath general practitioner, Kentish Town,
London
125
reviews
Patient Power
Sarah Harvey, Ian Wylie
Simon and Schuster, £9.99,
pp 310
ISBN 068484026X
Rating: ★★
S
ubtitled “Getting the best from your
healthcare,” Patient Power is meant to
put the patient in control, wresting it
from the NHS bureaucracy. Armed with this
book, patients will be ready for that rude
receptionist, uncaring nurse, and disinterested consultant. Knowing exactly what they
are entitled to, patients might even have
some idea how to get it. And if they don’t,
they will certainly know to whom and how to
complain.
While the book does provide an overview
of the roles various professionals play and the
services provided, it was not easy to find
answers to simple questions such as “Where
do I get a wheelchair?” or “How do I get my
toenails looked after?” Neither subject was
indexed nor readily apparent in the table of
contents, and, when eventually found, the
answer to both seems to be “Call your GP.”
Major dilemmas such as “Who should I get
for my bypass?” are dealt with superficially.
Readers are provided with questions to ask
the surgeon so that they can make an
informed decision. One of the strengths of
this book is the numerous checklists to
prepare for such things as hospital admission,
choosing a rest home, or hospital discharge.
The book is written simply to make it accessible to all, but the suggestions for researching
an illness might be difficult for some.
While patients’ rights are covered in
detail, sections on patients’ responsibilities
are notable for their brevity. Patient abuse of
the system is presented as an understandable, if lamentable, foible. Occasional kind
words are thrown in health workers’
directions, but one is left with the overwhelming impression of an aloof, uncaring
system. Much is made of the process of complaint, and even a sample letter is provided.
While many complaints serve a useful
purpose for keeping us in line, they are not
entirely benign. They absorb a substantial
amount of administrative time, and if the
complaints are frivolous or vexatious have a
particularly negative impact on an employee’s morale. I would have liked to see some
acknowledgment of this. While making
complaining easier for those so inclined, this
book is unlikely to encourage those who are
normally too meek to complain to do so.
Unfortunately, I suspect those who will read
this book won’t need it, and those who need
it won’t read it.
Ted Osmun family physician, Mount Brydges,
Ontario, Canada
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GP websites General practitioners are independent minded people. They also
WEBSITE
OF THE
WEEK
Douglas
Carnall
BMJ
dcarnall@
bmj.com
126
have to communicate with their patients, mostly as individuals but often as a
group. Take these facts together, and it seems obvious that one way of
enhancing such communication would be to set up a practice website. In all,
278 British general practice sites are already indexed at www.internet-gp.com/.
Its author is both a general practitioner and a website designer, and, although
its information architecture leaves something to be desired (it would be nice if
the sites were indexed in ways other than by name of the surgery), it’s a useful
first step. The annotations offered add some value, though they seem mainly
concerned with the design of the sites rather than the content therein. If you’ve
just designed your own site you can submit its URL to Internet-GP and up it
will go.
Browsing through some of the surgeries’ sites, I was struck by how little of
the web’s informational richness they are currently exploiting. On the web
“everything is done by someone else,” so the poverty of links from many sites
suggests that general practitioners have yet to become fully literate in the
medium, if you define literacy as the ability to read and write a web page.
Of course, many things—opening times, statements of mission and ethics,
and practice policies—will be unique to your practice, but there is also much
that is generic. Say you would like to help patients decide whether to call the
practice out of hours: you could either spend a hundred lifetimes trying to
write decision support software yourself, or you make a link—such as to NHS
Direct (www.healthcareguide.nhsdirect.nhs.uk)—on the relevant page on your
site. Patients will appreciate being guided to relevant high quality information,
and the practice will look modern and efficient. It will be, as the management
gurus say, a win-win situation.
NETLINES
d Beyond medicine, there is a world of
science on the internet. The web edition
of Scientific American (www.sciam.com) is a
prime example, being much more than a
simple archive of the paper journal. Apart
from free access to articles from the
journal, there is a host of features ranging
from questions and answers (including
medical topics) to exhibitions of
information on science and selected links
to other science websites.
d The British Paediatric Surveillance
Unit has an interest in uncommon and
new childhood diseases. It seems to be
quite active, and its work is highlighted at
http://bpsu.rcpch.ac.uk. Though the
website’s design is not flashy, it is easy to
peruse, and a site of this calibre should
raise the profile of the organisation within
the medical community.
d If you fancy an endoscopic tour of the
gut then look no further than the Atlas of
Gastrointestinal Endoscopy at www.
mindspring.com/~atlsouthgastro/
atlas_1.html. The site has a good selection
of pathologies with helpful commentaries
and is easy to navigate around. Being
laden with graphics, its download times
can be slow, but some of the pictures are
worth the wait. More information on
gastroenterology can be accessed through
the links page.
d Discovering good quality websites is
not always easy, but www.signpost.org/
signpost could point you in the right
direction. This is essentially a catalogue
offering a brief description of web
resources organised in a style similar to
Yahoo! Unsurprisingly, it is a highly
selective group and is by no means
comprehensive, but the medicine section
is well worth a browse and presents a
useful launch pad for surfing.
d The Association of the British
Pharmaceutical Industry has a glitzy
website at www.abpi.org.uk, packed with
useful information. The site is divided into
sectors, which are well signposted, and
there is a comprehensive collection of links
to drug companies and regulatory bodies.
This site has depth, and, although that
means clicking around and spending time
touring, the end result is worth pursuing.
Harry Brown general practitioner, Leeds
DrHarry@dial.pipex.com
We welcome suggestions for websites to be
included in future Netlines. Readers should
contact Harry Brown at the above email.
BMJ VOLUME 320 8 JANUARY 2000 www.bmj.com
reviews
PERSONAL VIEW
SOUNDINGS
The sharp end of the dural puncture
What crisis?
A
Here in Auchendreich we take pride in
being prepared. We believe our
emergency planning systems are second
to none: a happy legacy of our frontline
role in the cold war, when a top secret
bunker, 200 feet beneath a local pig
farm, offered shelter to key members of
the Scottish civil and military
establishment for as long as the nuclear
holocaust might necessitate it.
Recent years have not blunted our
preparedness for whatever may befall. As
usual, the planning group for the annual
winter bed crisis held its first meeting in
June, just as the impact of last year’s crisis
was beginning to recede.
July and August meetings are
traditionally devoted to analysis of the
previous crisis and full discussion of the
lessons learnt. In the event both had to
be cancelled.
As usual, the September meeting was
reasonably well attended, but as a result
of a major trust reconfiguration exercise
there was a distressing lack of continuity
among the various representatives. And,
sadly, the main business of the meeting—
a controversial proposal from the board
to merge the functions of the Twenty
Fifth Annual Winter Bed Crisis Planning
Group with that of the Millennium
Planning Group—led to an acrimonious
and inconclusive debate which
significantly depleted the rather limited
reserves of goodwill towards our three
directors of planning.
Eventually, a chairman for the
amalgamated planning group was
identified; work began in earnest with
the usual flurry of faxes in late
December.
Then it occurred to someone that
much needed extra beds might be found
by reopening two wards of the old Royal
Dreich Asylum, so just before Christmas
a dozen people—from personnel,
catering, patient transport, laundry,
portering, and pest control—were
summoned to a meeting.
A plan was agreed with remarkable
speed and a commendable effort by all
concerned ensured that within four days
about 40 bewildered elderly patients
could be whisked from our hard pressed
acute beds to the comparative safety of a
spacious old asylum.
Already the operation has been
acclaimed as a triumph, mainly because
not so much as a whisper of any crisis
has reached either local or national
media. And already our delighted trust
chief executives are seeking out potential
members of the Twenty Sixth Annual
Winter Bed Crisis Planning Group.
neurological damage? Interesting theory.
s the pain of a sudden onset dural
We even get into my childhood, but
puncture headache was searing and
somehow the pain persists and the light is
spreading like hot molten metal I
too bright and I have had enough.
forgot what I was there for. The pain of the
Psychotherapy is not helping the shortage
contractions disappeared into the head
of cerebrospinal fluid. “Not coping.”
pain. Three failed epidurals, two spinal
Then an angel of mercy comes along in
blocks, and a few incisions into a caesarean
the form of a health visitor. She believes me,
section the head pain was all consuming, the
and she listens. She gets me to send for my
lights surreal and too bright, and the only
notes, and we pick through them together.
sound that I could hear through the ringing
The hospital is worried. Why do we want my
woolliness was my own screaming. My head.
notes? I am invited for “an informal chat,”
Please help me. “Patient not coping. Converted
and five people appear. I am placed face
to general anaesthetic. Delivered of female infant.”
down as an exhibit on a bed while they patRecovering from the anaesthetic I forgot
ronise above me. “Well, you are difficult,
that there had been a baby, only rememberaren’t you?” "Hello, I’m Dr X. I’m the only
ing the headache, which seemed to have
anaesthetist in this hospital
gone. In morphined confuthat you haven’t seen.” If I
sion I cried a bit and turned
have seen them all why can’t
away from the baby, and the An angel of mercy
they come up with some
headache
came
back.
answers? I feel humiliated
“Patient lying down. Unable to comes along in
and let down by the world.
care for baby. Not coping. Very the form of a
One of them sees my
upset.”
despair and takes some
Four days and two pain- health visitor
ful blood patches later the
time to explain what he
headache resolved enough to allow me to
thinks is wrong. He is kinder and gentler
stand up and let light and life back in. The
than his colleagues and confirms that I had a
anaesthetist sat on my bed and stroked my
“terrible experience.”
hair. Tears streamed down my face. He held
While much has been written about
my hand. I was so afraid of him; he
postsurgical pain, postanaesthetic pain
reminded me of the pain. “Not coping.”
seems largely ignored. Eventually a long
Slowly, but painfully, over the next day,
term low grade cerebrospinal fluid leak is
the blood clot removed, the headache rediagnosed. The hole has been a big one and
appeared, and the light began to hurt
my back is ripped to pieces from damage
behind my eyes. Over the next few days my
and mending. My health visitor is jubilant. I
back hurt where the blood patches had
am relieved. It is not in my head, it is in my
burnt their way in, and my left hand and arm
back. The pain is still there but less bitter
were weak and constantly tingling. “From an
when it has a name. Most dural puncture
anaesthetics point of view this patient can be disheadaches resolve within a few days, but
charged.”
some don’t. Mine didn’t. The seven month
From my point of view I was a wreck. Disthreshold released me, but the tingling and
charged with daily pain, curtains shut, little
numbness persist along with the relentless
feeling in left arm and hand, feverish. Having
and annoying warm, tight sensation in my
nightmares about the anaesthetist. Painkillers
back that feels as though the blood patch is
don’t touch the pain, so I visit my general
still being administered. The residuals I can
practitioner for stronger stuff. Can’t because
cope with and have now learnt to live with.
I’m breastfeeding. I am unhappy, so let’s try
Bonding with the baby? No, it didn’t happen.
antidepressants. Can’t because I’m breastI was too sore to cope with that.
feeding. Perhaps the problem is psychologiFlippancy, lack of interest, and arrocal? Perhaps. “Patient not coping with life.”
gance may be common coping strategies
The psychologist thinks that there is a
among healthcare professionals faced with
deep anger towards the anaesthetist. Wants
the non-coping patient. Not coping implies
me to apportion blame. I do not feel anger. I
that coping is expected and is the sole
do wonder, though, if the long term impact
responsibility of the patient. It is only now
of dural puncture features in the medical
that I can look back and see how close I was
curriculum, and sometimes late at night I
to the edge that many others have slipped or
wonder if the anaesthetist ever thinks about
jumped over. Good pain management
me or what became of me, but it isn’t anger.
begins with believing the patient and
We sort this out. Is it postnatal depression
continues by providing an unthreatening
and post-traumatic stress presenting as
forum in which to share the reality of the
pain experience. These things, along with
simple caring and explanation, were largely
If you would like to submit a personal view please
denied to me. I am, and will always remain, a
send no more than 850 words to the Editor, BMJ,
different and damaged person because of it.
BMA House, Tavistock Square, London WC1H
9JR or email editor@bmj.com
BMJ VOLUME 320 8 JANUARY 2000 www.bmj.com
Colin Douglas doctor and novelist, Edinburgh
Evelyn C Weir, lecturer, Edinburgh
127