Medical ReportingA federal drug agent pleaded withus to tackle a ring ripping off truckersaround the country by charging bigbucks for what looked like amphetamines,but was really caffeine. Someoneelse mentioned a doctor in Alabamapromising miracle cures through“chelation” treatments thatcleared out the blood vesselslike a Roto-Rooter would apipe. One owner of the paperwas interested in spinal surgerytouted as a cure for paralysis.There was no end tothe practitioners selling newvarieties of hope while offeringconspiracy theories forwhy their easy cures were being suppressedby organized medicine. Bythen, however, I’d made peace withthe fact that, whatever you wrote, somereaders would still seek the latest snakeoil if peddled with good bedside manners.An Endless Supply of StoriesIf Stewart and I thought we could breakthe cycle by fleeing to <strong>Nieman</strong> Fellowships(mine was in 1980, his the nextyear, in 1981), we were wrong. By thetime we’d gotten back to the paper,someone whispered into our ears thatsome doctors in the Air Force had refusedto work with that service’s chiefheart surgeon, claiming he had a 50percent mortality rate while operatingon children. The surgeon then hadbeen shipped off to private fellowshipwhere he might have hooked up aheart-lung machine backwards. Like AlPacino in the last “Godfather” movie,we were “sucked back in,” spendingthe next year on military health care.I could have escaped, I suppose,when I switched coasts to join the LosAngeles Times, where riots and earthquakeshave a way of diverting yourattention. But when I needed a kneeoperation, it amused me to learn thatsurgeons generally chose to stay awakewhen they underwent such proceduresthemselves, thus avoiding the risks ofgeneral anesthesia, yet preferred thattheir own patients be put under—perhapsso they couldn’t hear some memberof the surgical team blurt out an“oops.” What could be the harm inwriting a lighthearted piece about that?Or a little magazine story about howradiologists often tried to bill for morethan is provided by insurance plans?Or a piece about ….Another lesson: Make sureyou’re right—there’s a lot atstake, both for your publicationand the people you write about.Understand that during 32 years inthe profession, medical reporting hasnever been part of my job description.Five years ago, I was the Times’s educationeditor, for example, when someonesuggested that I monitor—in my“spare time”—a respiratory therapistat a local hospital who had claimed tobe an “Angel of Death,” then took itback. He was only kidding, he said.What was no joke was how such medical“angels” may well be the most commontype of big-number serial killer inour society, though we tend todownplay their murder sprees, whatwith their victims being old and sickand in the hospital or nursing home.That spare-time investigation woundup stretching on for several years, withthe results filling seven pages of ourpaper last year with the story we called“Graveyard Shift.” The hospital workerwho was only kidding eventuallypleaded guilty to killing six patientswith paralyzing drugs, but likely hadkilled dozens.If this isn’t a cradle-to-grave subject,what is? It’s not as depressing as itmight sound, either, for the same storiesthat document grim practices bysome often spotlight the courage ofothers, like the fellow doctors whostood up to the chief Air Force heartsurgeon, refusing to help him operateon babies any longer. Even back whenStewart and I began putting a spotlighton the Georgia medical board, onemember had encouraged us to keep atit, angered by the self-protective politicsin his profession. I had not spokento that doctor in more than 20 years, soI looked him up this spring when Ifound myself vacationing on the Georgiacoast. We met at the perfect placefor medical reminiscing, the golf course,and he still gushed over with tales ofwhat various rogues were upto. He was basically retiredhimself, except for running atherapy group for practitionerswith medical and drugproblems—doing that workfor no fee.Back when I first stumbledonto this sideline, those of usworking at newspapers didn’ttalk about “news you can use.” Therewere just good stories and, for betteror worse, causes. But if “news you canuse” has now become a catch phrase,what specialty better fills that prescription?So here are a few more lessons I’velearned along the way.When you really get sick, hire someoneelse to fill out the insurance forms—otherwise the aggravation will kill youbefore your disease will.If your plan is supposed to pay allthe costs of an anesthesiologist, refuseto sign the sheet of paper they give youin pre-op saying “patient accepts responsibility”for amounts not covered—and dare them to wheel you out ofthere.Definitely get those travel medicalpolicies when you go overseas, even ifthey seem costly—but don’t be surprisedwhen they won’t reimburse youfor one item at the finest hospital inLondon, your bill for “spirits.” ■Paul Lieberman, a 1980 <strong>Nieman</strong>Fellow, now is a cultural correspondentfor the Los Angeles Times, basedin the newspaper’s New York Citybureau.paul.lieberman@latimes.com18 <strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Summer <strong>2003</strong>
Portraits of the Living With the DeadA photographer documents the transition from medical student to physician.By Meryl LevinMedical ReportingThe process of dissecting the humanbody during Gross Anatomyclass forces medical students toface death, all in the hope of betterunderstanding life. This introductoryexperience is considered a major transitionin the training of physicians. Andhow medical students emerge fromtheir training sets the tone for the relationshipsthey will form with their patients.“Anatomy of Anatomy,” a book andtraveling exhibition, combines my photographsof a group of first-year medicalstudents during their anatomy classwith excerpts from journals they kept.During the past decade, I have focusedmy camera on issues of health andsocial welfare, observing the de<strong>live</strong>ryof health care from the patient side.Over time, I became curious about theunique skill-set required of physicians,as well as the intensity of their training.This led me to Cornell <strong>University</strong>’sWeill Medical College in the spring of1998. There I sought out a small groupof medical students willing to collaboratewith me on a project that woulddocument their anatomy course. Weworked in the basement lab, at thelibrary and in dorms, recording thestruggle of these doctors-to-be as theylearned the innermost workings of thehuman body. All of this was made possiblebecause of the generosity of individualswho, in death, donated theirbodies to medical education.We discovered that the dead canteach us in many ways. With honestyand openness, these students wroteabout their experiences and their relationshipsto their cadavers, or as onestudent wrote, her “own really <strong>live</strong>dead body.” The students’ words helpprovide “Anatomy of Anatomy” with aclear narrative framework.As these words and images havetraveled to 13 exhibition sites withinthe medical education arena, I’veworked closely with educators and students,organizing panel discussions toexplore the complex journey of movingfrom patient, to medical student, tophysician. ■Meryl Levin is a social documentaryphotographer based in New YorkCity. “Anatomy of Anatomy” and itstraveling exhibition were madepossible by the Open SocietyInstitute’s “Project on Death inAmerica.” More information aboutthe book and exhibition can befound at www.ThirdRailPress.org.mlevin@igc.orgI have finished my dissection of the wristand hand. It is 3 p.m., and I have to pickup my daughter from school. I hold herhand tightly as we cross the street. Shenotices, but doesn’t say anything. Herhand is soft and warm despite the Januarycold. This is what life feels like, I say tomyself. I have learned something aboutthe human touch. I will never holdsomeone’s hand the same old, ignorantway again. —Rajiv<strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Summer <strong>2003</strong> 19