Cyberchondria Rising – What is the Term’s Meaning and History?

By |January 31st, 2012

Yesterday the AMA news informed me that cyberchondria is on the rise. So it’s a good moment to consider the term’s meaning and history.

Cyberchondria is an unfounded health concern that develops upon searching the Internet for information about symptoms or a disease. A cyberchondriac is someone who surfs the Web about a medical problem and worries about it unduly.

Through Wikipedia, I located what might be the first reference to cyberchondria in a medical journal: a 2003 article in the Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery, and Psychiatry. A section on the new diagnosis starts like this: “Although not yet in the Oxford English Dictionary, the word ‘cyberchondria’ has been coined to describe the excessive use of internet health sites to fuel health anxiety.” That academic report links back to a 2001 story in the Independent, “Are you a Cyberchondriac?”

Two Microsoft researchers, Ryen White and Eric Horvitz, authored a “classic” paper: Cyberchondria: Studies of the Escalation of Medical Concerns in Web Search. This academic paper, published in 2009, reviews the history of cyberchondria and results of a survey on Internet searches and anxiety.

Interesting that the term – coined in a newspaper story and evaluated largely by IT experts – has entered the medical lexicon. I wonder how the American Psychiatry Association will handle cyberchondria in the upcoming DSM-5.

 

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Real-time Crowd-sourcing a Possible Case of Elephantiasis Nostras Verrucosa

By |July 25th, 2011

Yours truly is busy this week, working on another writing project. This morning she got word from the Happy Hospitalist, via Google+, that a patient somewhere needs help.

…Here is a young male with a greater than 10 year history of progressive unilateral woody, nodular and odorous smelling skin changes of his calf. He has obstructive sleep apnea from significantly elevated body mass index…He has pain in his leg, which occasionally bleeds. There is no significant itching…

(For a full, disclaimed description and an instructive image, see Happy’s post.)

This story, if true, provides a good example of crowd-sourcing a diagnostic dilemma. This isn’t a “game,” played by doctors on-line who write in to say what they think is wrong in a case already solved. Rather, this is how physicians might use extant technology and free software for difficult cases, in real time, when assistance is needed.

I’ve never seen a case of Elephantiasis Nostras Verrucosa (ENV). Happy figured it out, if he’s correct, using what he describes as his medical skill set and powers of observation. (kudos!) And he used the Internet, of course, that sometimes-capitalized thing that affords access to data bases, other people’s images, dermatology atlases, and perhaps a doctor somewhere who’s seen this before.

He takes notes on the Search:

I used Google for a preliminary review of what I believed this presentation to be. Google is interesting in that if you know what keywords to use, you can find a wealth of information to help define and refine your differential diagnosis very quickly. If you don’t know what you’re searching for, it can be a black hole of worthless and dangerous information. Knowing what you’re searching for on Google is different from the lay person’s online symptom checker which leaves too much to the unhelpful imagination.

If you’re asking me, Happy, the oncologist thinks you need a biopsy to confirm almost any diagnosis. And then you (or a doctor on another shift, as your work goes, and non-anonymously) will have to send the slides, or digital images from those, to a pathologist who’s familiar with ENV.

As for the best treatment, that may take another trip to the digital stacks. (I went there.)

Some indicate an infectious component can compound chronic woody edema and lead to this picture. If that’s the case, then cultures for fungus and other kinds of organisms wouldbe appropriate, too. Next question:

In these days of cost-consciousness, can you make a diagnosis based on the leg’s appearance, without a biopsy? Maybe –

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Defining a Cluster of Differentiation, or CD

By |May 17th, 2011

One of the goals of this blog is to introduce readers to some of the language of medicine. As much as jargon is sometimes unnecessary, sometimes the specificity and detail in medical terms aids precision.

So what is a cluster of differentiation, or CD?

In medical practice, the two-letter acronym specifies a molecule, or antigen, usually on a cell’s surface. In 1982, an international group of immunologists got together for the First International Workshop on Human Leukocyte Differentiation Antigens. The initial focus was on leukocyte (white blood cell) molecules. The goal was to agree on definitions of receptors and other complex proteins to which monoclonal antibodies bind, so that scientists could communicate more effectively.

A few examples of CDs about which you might be curious:

CD1 – the first-named CD; this complex glycoprotein is expressed in immature T cells, some B cells and other, specialized immune cells in the skin; there are several variants (CD1a, -b, -c…) encoded by genes on human chromosome 1.

CD4 – a molecule on a mature “helper” T cell surface; T lymphocytes with CD4 diminish in people with untreated HIV disease.

CD20 – a molecule at the surface of immature B lymphocytes that binds Rituxan, an antibody used to treat some forms of lymphoma, leukemia and immune disorders.

 

In this schematic, an antibody recognizes a specific molecule, or cluster of differentiation, at a cell surface.

The CDs were named (i.e. numbered) not necessarily by the order of discovery, but by the order of their being deemed as bona fide CDs by HLA Workshop participants. There’s a pretty good, albeit technical, definition in FEBS Letters, from 2009:

Cluster of differentiation (CD) antigens are defined when a surface molecule found on some members of a standard panel of human cells reacts with at least one novel antibody, and there is good accompanying molecular data.

Perhaps the best way to think about CDs is that they’re unique structures, usually at a cell’s surface, to which specific antibodies bind. By knowing the CDs, and by examining which antibodies bind to cells in a patient’s tumor specimen, pathologists can distinguish among cancer types. Another use is in the clinic, when oncologists give an antibody, like Campath – which binds CD52, the responsiveness might depend on whether the malignant cells bear the CD target.

Still, I haven’t come across an official (such as NIH), open-source and complete database for all the CDs. Most can be found at the Human Cell Differentiation Molecules website, and information gleaned through PubMed using the MeSH browser or a straight literature search.

Wikipedia is disappointing on this topic; the list thins out as the CD numbers go higher, and the external references are few. To my astonishment, I found a related page on Facebook. Neither makes the grade.

Where should patients get information about these kinds of things? Or doctors, for that matter?

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Crowd-Sourcing a Medical Puzzle

By |March 24th, 2011

The Times ran an intriguing experiment on its Well blog yesterday: a medical problem-solving contest. The challenge, based on the story of a real girl who lives near Philadelphia, drew 1379 posted comments and closed this morning with publication of the answer.

Dr. Lisa Sanders, who moderated the piece, says today that the first submitted correct response came from a California physician; the second came from a Minnesota woman who is not a physician. Evidently she recognized the condition’s manifestations from her experience working with people who have it.

The public contest – and even the concept of using the word “contest” – to solve a real person’s medical condition interests me a lot. This kind of puzzle is, as far as I know, unprecedented apart from the somewhat removed domains of doctors’ journals and on-line platforms intended for physicians, medical school problem-based learning cases, clinical pathological conferences (CPC’s) and fictional TV shows.

In this example, the patient’s diagnosis was known, and treatment successfully implemented, before publication. Surely the Times legal team carefully reviewed those scanned commercial lab reports with the wiped-out patient’s name and address, and likely they got the OK from the patient and her family to run the story as they did. There were sufficient details included that she’s likely identifiable to some people in her community.

The case is instructive at many levels: It’s not just about the girl and her symptoms and her disease, and how doctors think, but about how the population of New York Times readers approached it over the course of 24 hours. A question an editor, if happy with the “results” – i.e. the on-line turnout (clicks, emails, tweets…) and lack of flak – might ask is what sort of case to use next week or next month, and how perhaps to improve on the presentation.

The question I ask as a physician is this: why we don’t have this sort of crowd sourcing for tough, unsolved medical cases? Privacy is an obvious concern as is, perhaps, physicians’ fear of missing something or being wrong. Also, if a diagnosis isn’t already determined, the responsible doctor might end up (and likely would) order more tests and, perhaps, harm the patient by chasing zebras and heeding some well-intentioned but absurd or simply wrong suggestions from a diverse collection of world-wide readers. So there would be a problem of “too many cooks” among other issues.

On the other hand, a single physician dealing with a challenging case would have, potentially, access to the expertise of millions of people, perhaps a few who have genuine insight and have seen a rare situation before. Doctors needn’t think in silos.

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Suggestions to Reduce Errors in Breast Cancer Pathology

By |July 21st, 2010

A prominent article in yesterday’s New York Times considers some troubling problems regarding inaccuracy in breast cancer diagnosis and pathology. The main point is that some women get needless, disfiguring and toxic treatments after being told they have breast cancer when, it turns out, their condition was benign.

My main take on this situation – which doesn’t just apply to breast cancer – is that, whenever possible, patients should get a second opinion on biopsy results before undergoing major treatment. The costs of a second pathology review is sometimes covered by insurance, but sometimes it’s not; either way, that’s money well-spent, especially if the opinion is rendered by an appropriately-credentialed, expert pathologist who works in a state-of-the-art facility.

From the doctor’s perspective there’s responsibility, too. Surgeons shouldn’t lop off a woman’s breast without knowing that the pathology is real. Well-trained oncologists know they’re supposed to review the pathology, to make sure the diagnosis is true, before giving chemo. The Times story indicates that the Cancer Treatment Centers of America has a specific policy in this regard, that doctors there must review the pathology for patients who are new to their system. This wise policy, common in some hospitals and tumor boards such as where I practiced, makes it less likely that oncologists or other doctors will give inappropriate treatment.

From an administrative standpoint, there could be better regulation to assure quality. Pathologists who are employed, busy evaluating tumor specimens without supervision, should be board-certified and required to be up-to-date in the specialized fields of their practice. And laboratories (as opposed to pathologists who work there) should be closely monitored because pathology errors can arise from faulty stains, use of poor-quality or old reagents, incorrect calibration of a machine, lack of appropriate “controls” for each batch of cases evaluated, etc.

A related story appeared earlier this year, also in the Times, on the variability of pathology reports. That article reported on how different pathology labs provide disparate results on whether a breast tumor has estrogen and progesterone receptors in the malignant cells, and whether the malignant cells express Her2 – the target of Herceptin – or not. The lack of agreement among pathologists renders treatment decisions difficult. The piece focused on a physician who couldn’t decide if she should take Herceptin or not, because she received conflicting reports about her tumor.

Getting the diagnosis right underlies many cancer care problems and undue costs. If I were an insurance company executive, I’d recommend that my firm cover the costs of a second pathology opinion in all cases. It’s far less costly to find out that a “tumor” is not really malignant than to pay for surgery, chemotherapy and radiation that’s not needed.

Better still, I’d insist that biopsy specimens be evaluated by pathologists who are trained in current methods and who work in trust-worthy laboratories.

Such a policy would reduce false positives in cancer diagnosis, and would thereby reduce the toxicity and costs of unwarranted cancer treatments. With better diagnostic facilities, those patients who do have cancer would not be so afraid to undergo the treatments they really need, because they’d be confident that they and their doctors were making decisions based on reliable information.

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On Sergey’s Search (for a Cure for Parkinson’s Disease)

By |July 8th, 2010

This week I brushed up on Parkinson’s disease. What drew me into this mini-review is an informative article, “Sergey’s Search,” that appeared in the July (print) issue of Wired and is now available on-line. The feature, by Thomas Goetz, offers insight on what it’s like to know that you’ve got a genetic disposition to Parkinson’s, details on some enzymes implicated in the illness and, further, considers what might be done to help future patients.

I recommend this article to any of my readers who are interested in genetics, Parkinson’s and/or what some even consider as a new era for health-related research.

There’s a lot to take in –

The Wired story starts with Google co-founder Sergey Brin. A Moscow native and, more recently, a California swimmer, Brin’s got his reasons for concern. He’s got a strong family history, for one thing: the illness has affected both his mother and aunt. It turns out Brin has a genetic disposition to develop the condition because he shares the disease-associated G2019S mutation with his mom. As Goetz explains, this alteration in the DNA segment of the gene encoding LRRK2, a leucine-rich repeat kinase, involves a single-nucleotide switch of an adenine for a guanine.

(I’ll add this, just in case you’re interested: the gene encoding LRRK2, or dardarin, resides at human 12q12 – that’s the long arm of chromosome 12. The G2019S nomenclature indicates that the mutation results in a change at the 2019th amino acid position along the protein’s encoded structure, so that a glycine, normally present, is replaced by a serine molecule at that spot. A fascinating tidbit, news to me today, is that when the gene was first cloned in 2004 the researchers, who’d studied several affected families of Basque origin, called it dardarin, derived from the Basque word dardara, meaning tremor.)

The G2019S mutation is relatively common among Ashkenazi Jews. Still, not all of those who carry the mutation develop the disease, and not all who have the disease have this particular mutation. Other genetic variants have been identified, and it’s not clear exactly how these wreak havoc with LRRK2’s function. Enzymes like LRRK2, a kinase, usually transfer ATP molecules from one protein to another. The presumption is that in Parkinson’s, abnormalities in this enzyme’s function – whether they’re caused by this particular mutation or another – somehow lead to loss of dopamine-producing cells in the brain.

Back to Sergey’s story –

“Brin didn’t panic,” Goetz reports (a point I’d emphasize too). Rather, he was reassured by his mother’s experience and high level of functioning with the disease. She still goes skiing (among other things one’s mother might do), he reasons.

What Brin is doing, along the lines of Goetz’s Decision Tree approach, is cutting his risk as best he can. He exercises regularly, doesn’t smoke, and funds research.

Like other rock star informaticists before him (think of Netscape founder James H. Clarke, who launched Healtheon and Steve Case, who started Revolution Health – these are my examples), Brin is struck by the slow pace of medical investigation:

“Generally the pace of medical research is glacial compared to what I’m used to in the Internet,” Brin says. “We could be looking lots of places and collecting lots of information. And if we see a pattern, that could lead somewhere.”

If only medical research could be more like Google…

Some clinical background:

Parkinson’s, a progressive and often debilitating neurological condition, affects a half million or so people in the U.S. As a practicing as a physician, I cared for many patients who had this illness. Although I would see them for other reasons, it was hard not to notice, and know, the characteristic tremor, rigidity and shuffling walk of those affected. The onset of symptoms is usually insidious, slow and unnerving.

As Goetz indicates, most of what doctors understand about Parkinson’s comes from observing patients in the clinic. Illness emerges, it’s thought, as the number of dopamine-producing cells in the brain diminishes. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, a molecule that transmits messages between cells or groups of cells within the nervous system. Since around 1967, when the drug Levodopa was first marketed, doctors have prescribed this and other pills for people who have Parkinson’s. While these meds can ameliorate symptoms, these don’t reverse the unstoppable deterioration of body and, ultimately, the mind.

One problem with Parkinson’s research and treatment is that once the disease becomes evident, it’s hard – probably too late – to reverse the loss of dopamine-producing cells. Most people don’t develop symptoms until dopamine production is around 20 percent of normal levels. Now, with the advent of genetic markers and potential to “catch” this disease early on, there’s an opportunity for early intervention.

One promising area for Parkinson’s research:

LRRK2 is a kinase, a kind of enzyme that’s over-active in some cancers. Already, pharmaceutical companies have developed specific kinase inhibitors; a dozen or so are already FDA-approved for treatment of particular cancers, and many more are in the pipeline.

What excites me, in all of this, is the possibility that these drugs might be effective in patients with Parkinson’s disease. And because the same enzyme – LRRK2, or dardarin – is implicated in cases without the particular G2019S mutation, it may be that these drugs would work even in cases that lack this particular genetic feature. (There are examples in oncology, in terms of tumor genetics and responsiveness to targeted drugs, that would support this contention, but that’s just theory for now.) The bottom line, as I see it, is that these new drugs should be carefully tested in clinical trials.

Sergey’s view:

One of the key ideas in Goetz’s piece has to do what he considers and may well be a revolutionary approach to medical research.

…Brin is after a different kind of science altogether. Most Parkinson’s research, like much of medical research, relies on the classic scientific method: hypothesis, analysis, peer review, publication. Brin proposes a different approach, one driven by computational muscle and staggeringly large data sets. It’s a method that draws on his algorithmic sensibility—and Google’s storied faith in computing power…

In what may indeed be a “fourth paradigm” of science, as attributed to the late computer scientist Jim Gray, there’s an inevitable evolution away from hypothesis and toward patterns.

As I understand it, Brin seeks to invert the traditional scientific method by applying Google-size data-mining power to massive and very imperfect data sets in health. Already, he and his colleagues have accomplished this by Google’s Flu Trends, which several years ago beat the CDC to an epidemic’s discovery by two weeks.

You should read this article for yourself, as I’m afraid I can’t adequately describe the potential powers of computational health and science analyses that might be applied to well, pretty much everything in medicine. This goes well beyond a new approach to finding a cure for Parkinson’s disease.

This story, largely based in genomics and computational advances, reflects the power of the human mind, how the gifted son of two mathematicians who fell into a particular medical situation, can use his brains, intellectual and financial resources, and creativity, to at least try to make a difference.

I hope he’s successful!

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The New Alzheimer’s Plaque Test (and early breast cancer detection)

By |June 24th, 2010

Alzheimer’s is, unfortunately, an incurable disease. On the front page of today’s print edition of the New York Times, Gina Kolata reports on a new test that would enable doctors to image the characteristic plaques in the brain and, thereby, facilitate the diagnosis in people who are wondering if they have this condition. The news article includes pretty images, front and center in my browser window.

The discussion centers on a not-yet-FDA-reviewed test promoted by a biotech company, Avid Radiopharmaceuticals (Philadelphia, PA). The experimental method depends on using PET scans (radiation dose estimate 14.1 mSv, Health Physics Society fact sheet) using a radioisotope (fluoride-18)-conjugated dye (Avid, in collaboration with Bayer and GE).

Among my hundred questions about this enterprise – notwithstanding the ethics of performing clinical trials in hospice patients, as is related in the Times article – is this: does the dye harm the kidneys? (No mention in the article.)

As for how much it costs, that’s not said either. Because Alzheimer’s is a fairly common disease and memory loss an even commoner condition, the potential demand for this marketable diagnostic method might be great.

What are we thinking?

Unlike Alzheimer’s, breast cancer is a highly-treatable disease. The cure rate for cases detected in stage I is over 95 percent, and for stage II it’s well-above 85 percent. These results apply to all women with breast cancer, including those in their forties and fifties.

Metastatic breast cancer remains incurable as I write this morning. Finding it early is crucial. About Alzheimer’s, I’m not so sure.

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Uncertainty Rules (on Eyjafjallajokull, volatility and a patient’s prognosis)

By |April 20th, 2010

(on Eyjafjallajokull, volatility and a patient’s prognosis)

Eyjafjallajökull, April 2010 (Wikimedia Commons, attr: David Karnå)

As pretty much anyone traveling in Europe this week can tell you, it’s sometimes hard to know what happens after an unusual, disruptive event. Volcanologists – the people most expert in this sort of matter – can’t say for sure what the spitfire at Eyjafjallajokull will do next.

It comes down to this: the volcano’s eruption could get better or it could get worse. Or it might fluctuate for a while. If the situation persists, there’s no telling if its course will stutter, like seizures of varying intensity in a person with untreated epilepsy, or if it will flare sporadically like disease exacerbations in patients with MS and then, with some luck, peter out.

Some wonder if the ash might spread westward over the ocean, affecting distant cities like New York and Chicago. Unlikely, it seems to me, but this is far afield from my area of expertise.

What I do know is oncology, and so how I’m thinking about Eyjafjallajokull in medical terms – I want to know the prognosis: how bad and extensive will be the damage, how much will it cost, and in a few weeks or (please, volcanologist, don’t say it could be months) from now, how we can know for sure when the situation has cleared.

Aside from a few pulmonologists who rushed in to say there’s not much to worry about the silica-laden aerosolized dust particles, most scientists who’ve been interviewed have been cautious. I admire their candidness about what they don’t know.

For example, yesterday NPR’s All Things Considered offered this assessment:

“The volcanic eruption that has grounded planes and closed airports throughout Europe appears to be slowing down. But before travelers start rejoicing, Icelandic scientists have a warning: The eruption could start up again any time.

The website of the American Geophysical Union offers some explanations provided by Dr. John Eichelberger, Volcano Hazards Program Coordinator at the U.S. Geological Survey who, it happens, was grounded in Europe after attending a scientific conference:

“Although we’re pretty good at saying when an eruption will start, we’re not so good at saying when it’s going to end. You go mainly on the basis of history, what the volcano has done before. In the case of this volcano, the last time it erupted it was active for over a year. The other factor is how the wind is blowing…

Today, the BBC published several scientists’ opinions including these differing views:

Dr John Murray, an Earth scientist from the Open University in Milton Keynes, said that the ash had “significantly diminished” and the ice over the crater itself had melted…”This is the stage we have been waiting for: the steam explosions due to water being trapped within the erupting lava will have virtually ceased, and the activity has changed to lava outpouring,” he said. …Ash may resume at any time, but it is likely to be less pronounced and prolonged than before.”

But Dr Sue Loughlin from the British Geological Survey pointed out that a decrease in the volcano’s activity might not mean the end of the eruption all together. “There’s seismic activity ongoing, which means the eruption is ongoing…

You get the idea, a volcano in Iceland exploded for the second time in two months, putting much of Europe at a stand-still. Business travelers, vacationers, and companies had to stop and make new arrangements and even compromises. Disappointment and frustration ensued, besides some anger toward those whose job it is to decide if it’s safe to fly.

Going back to medicine – I’m thinking of a patient I once cared for with a non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. When her disease struck, she was a young mother like me who led a complicated life with lots of responsibilities.

The type of lymphoma she had was uncommon; she sought multiple expert opinions regarding her exact diagnosis and treatment. My colleagues and I didn’t all agree about chemotherapy and radiation, and she was uncertain of how to proceed. Ultimately she opted for surgery and six months of chemotherapy. At the end of all that, she wanted to know if the lymphoma would come back.

“We can never be sure,” I told her. There’s really no choice but to watch and wait.

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