Years ago, Charlie, a highly respected orthopaedist and a mentor of mine, found a lump in his stomach. He asked a surgeon to explore the area, and the diagnosis was pancreatic cancer. This surgeon was one of the best in the country. He had even invented a new procedure for this exact cancer that could triple a patient’s five-year-survival odds – from five per cent to 15% – albeit with a poor quality of life. Charlie was uninterested. He went home the next day, closed his practice, and never set foot in a hospital again. He focused on spending time with his family and feeling as good as possible. Several months later, he died at home. He received no chemotherapy, radiation, or surgical treatment. Medicare didn’t spend much on him.

It’s not a frequent topic of discussion, but doctors die, too. And they don’t die like the rest of us. What’s unusual about them is not how much treatment they get compared to most Americans, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves. They know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. But they go gently.

Of course, doctors don’t want to die; they want to live. But they know enough about modern medicine to know its limits. And they know enough about death to know what all people fear most: dying in pain, and dying alone. They’ve talked about this with their families. They want to be sure, when the time comes, that no heroic measures will happen – that they will never experience, during their last moments on earth, someone breaking their ribs in an attempt to resuscitate them with CPR(that’s what happens if CPR is done right).

Almost all medical professionals have seen what we call “futile care” being performed on people. That’s when doctors bring the cutting edge of technology to bear on a grievously ill person near the end of life. The patient will be cut open, perforated with tubes, hooked up to machines, and assaulted with drugs. All of this occurs in the intensive care unit at a cost of tens of thousands of dollars a day. What it buys is misery we would not inflict on a terrorist. I cannot count the number of times fellow physicians have told me, in words that vary only slightly: “Promise me that if you find me like this you’ll kill me.” They mean it. Some medical personnel wear medallions stamped “NO CODE” to tell physicians not to perform CPR on them. I have even seen it as a tattoo.

To administer medical care that makes people suffer is anguishing. Physicians are trained to gather information without revealing any of their own feelings, but in private, among fellow doctors, they’ll vent. “How can anyone do that to their family members?” they’ll ask. I suspect it’s one reason physicians have higher rates of alcohol abuse and depression than professionals in most other fields. I know it’s one reason I stopped participating in hospital care for the last 10 years of my practice.

How has it come to this – that doctors administer so much care that they wouldn’t want for themselves? The simple, or not-so-simple, answer is this: patients, doctors, and the system.

To see how patients play a role, imagine a scenario in which someone has lost consciousness and been admitted to hospital. As is so often the case, no one has made a plan for this situation, and shocked and scared family members find themselves caught up in a maze of choices. They’re overwhelmed. When doctors ask if they want “everything” done, they answer yes. Then the nightmare begins. Sometimes, a family really means “do everything,” but often they just mean “do everything that’s reasonable”. For their part, doctors told to do “everything” will do it, whether it is reasonable or not.

That scenario is a common one. Feeding into the problem are unrealistic expectations of what doctors can accomplish. Many people think of CPR as a reliable lifesaver when, in fact, the results are usually poor. I’ve had hundreds of people brought to me after getting CPR. Exactly one, a healthy man who’d had no heart troubles (for those who want specifics, he had a “tension pneumothorax“), walked out of the hospital. If a patient suffers from severe illness, old age, or a terminal disease, the odds of a good outcome from CPR are infinitesimal, while the odds of suffering are overwhelming. But, of course, doctors play an enabling role here, too. The trouble is that even doctors who hate to administer futile care must find a way to address the wishes of patients and families. Imagine, once again, the A&E ward with those grieving, possibly hysterical, family members. They do not know the doctor. Establishing trust and confidence under such circumstances is a very delicate thing. People are prepared to think the doctor is acting out of base motives, trying to save time, or money, or effort, especially if the doctor is advising against further treatment.

Some doctors are stronger communicators than others, and some doctors are more adamant, but the pressures they all face are similar. When I faced circumstances involving end-of-life choices, I adopted the approach of laying out only the options that I thought were reasonable (as I would in any situation) as early in the process as possible. When patients or families brought up unreasonable choices, I would discuss the issue in layman’s terms that portrayed the downsides clearly. If patients or families still insisted on treatments I considered pointless or harmful, I would offer to transfer their care to another doctor or hospital.

Should I have been more forceful at times? I know that some of those transfers still haunt me. One of the patients of whom I was most fond was a lawyer from a famous political family. She had severe diabetes and terrible circulation, and, at one point, she developed a painful sore on her foot. Knowing the hazards of hospitals, I did everything I could to keep her from resorting to surgery. Still, she sought out outside experts with whom I had no relationship. Not knowing as much about her as I did, they decided to perform bypass surgery on her chronically clogged blood vessels in both legs. This didn’t restore her circulation, and the surgical wounds wouldn’t heal. Her feet became gangrenous, and she endured bilateral leg amputations. Two weeks later, in the famous medical centre in which all this had occurred, she died.

It’s easy to find fault with both doctors and patients in such stories, but in many ways all the parties are victims of a larger system that encourages excessive treatment. Many doctors are fearful of litigation and do whatever they’re asked to avoid getting in trouble. Even when the right preparations have been made, the system can still swallow people up. One of my patients was a man named Jack, a 78-year-old who had been ill for years and undergone about 15 major surgical procedures. He explained to me that he never, under any circumstances, wanted to be placed on life support machines again. One Saturday, however, Jack suffered a massive stroke and was admitted to A&E unconscious, without his wife. Doctors did everything possible to resuscitate him and put him on life support. This was Jack’s worst nightmare. When I arrived at the hospital and took over Jack’s care, I spoke to his wife and to hospital staff, bringing in my office notes with his care preferences. Then I turned off the life support machines and sat with him. He died two hours later.

Even with all his wishes documented, Jack hadn’t died as he’d hoped. The system had intervened. One of the nurses, I later found out, even reported my unplugging of Jack to the authorities as a possible homicide. Nothing came of it, of course; Jack’s wishes had been spelled out explicitly, and he’d left the paperwork to prove it. But the prospect of a police investigation is terrifying for any physician. I could far more easily have left Jack on life support against his stated wishes, prolonging his life, and his suffering, a few more weeks. I would even have made a little more money, and Medicare would have ended up with an additional $500,000 (£314,500) bill. It’s no wonder many doctors err on the side of over-treatment.

But doctors still don’t over-treat themselves. Almost anyone can find a way to die in peace at home, and pain can be managed better than ever. Hospice care, which focuses on providing terminally ill patients with comfort and dignity rather than on futile cures, provides most people with much better final days. Amazingly, studies have found that people placed in hospice care often live longer than people with the same disease who are seeking active cures.

Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.

We spent the next eight months having fun together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d hang out at home. Torch was a sport nut, and he was very happy to watch sport and eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favourite foods rather than hospital food. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was about $20.

Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t most of us? If there is a state-of-the-art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity. As for me, my physician has my choices. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night.

• Ken Murray, MD, is a former clinical assistant professor of family medicine at USC. Taken from an article originally published at Zócalo Public Square.

“The Sopranos” actor Gandolfini, 51, died suddenly on Wednesday during a trip to Rome.

“When you’re on vacation, you don’t eat the same way that you do when you’re at home. People tend to indulge, and that can lead directly to a heart attack,” said Chauncey Crandall, M.D.

An autopsy is scheduled that may determine the official cause of Gandolfini’s death, but those close to him say it appeared he suffered a massive heart attack.

A holiday heart attack is a surprisingly common phenomenon, said Dr. Crandall, chief of the cardiac transplant program at the world-renowned Palm Beach Cardiovascular Clinic.

“Heart attacks often manifest on holidays when you’re not eating the normal meals,” he said. “You eat excessively, indulging in high fatty foods, and this causes the blood to thicken. The result is a blood clot, which can rupture, resulting in the blockage of blood flow to the heart, causing heart attack and sudden death.”

The Emmy-winning actor was most known for his role as Tony Soprano in the hit HBO series “The Sopranos.” After the series ended in 2007 he received a Tony nomination, starring in the Broadway hit “God of Carnage.”He was in Italy celebrating the eighth-grade graduation of his 13-year-old son, Michael, and was to appear at a film festival in Sicily. According to news reports, his son discovered Gandolfini stricken in his hotel room. An ambulance rushed him to the hospital, but he was pronounced dead shortly thereafter.

Although Gandolfini may seem young to have suffered a heart attack, this is an all-too-common scenario for men his size, said Dr. Crandall. The actor was reportedly 6-foot-1 and weighed about 275 pounds.

“He was a walking time bomb,” said Dr. Crandall,

Heart disease generally starts decades before it is diagnosed, Dr. Crandall said. “The bottom line was that he was an overweight, probably inactive, and he had multiple risk factors.”

Considering the actor’s size, and reports that he was a heavy eater and drinker, Dr. Crandall speculated that “he probably had elevated blood pressure, and may have had metabolic syndrome.”

Metabolic syndrome is a set of conditions, which includes a large waistline, high triglycerides, and high cholesterol that dangerously hike heart attack risk. Also, given the actor’s weight, he may very well also have had sleep apnea, a common sleep disorder that hikes heart attack risk, Dr. Crandall added.

Following a plant-based diet, exercising, and “clean living,” can reverse such risk factors, but too often those in the spotlight or with high-powered jobs refuse to make those changes, said Dr. Crandall.

 “When you’re in the entertainment industry, you are at high risk of death from cardiac causes or from drugs,” said Dr. Crandall, who added, “Unfortunately, this was a sad case that had clear warning signs.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Charlotte Libov has written about medical and health care topics for more than 15 years. Since becoming a health book author in 1993, she has written or co-written five books, including The Woman’s Heart Book, which was adapted by PBS for a documentary, and received a book award from the American Medical Writers Association. Before becoming a medical author and freelancer, she was a New York Times contributor and has written health articles for Ladies’ Home Journal,Neurology Now, and Arthritis Today. She is also a professional speaker on women’s health issues and has appeared on radio and television health shows. Libov has a bachelor’s degree with honors from the University of Connecticut and a master’s degree in mental health counseling from the University of Oregon.

(Editor’s Note: You can view the ads throughout the story and can click on the ad to enlarge it.)

It’s no secret that advertising works. Big Pharma wouldn’t spend over $4 billion [3] a year on direct-to-consumer advertising if it didn’t mean massive profits.

What is more unknown is why drug ads that sow hypochondria, raise health fears and “sell” diseases are often the most common–and effective–even when the drugs themselves are of questionable safety.

The nation’s fourth most frequent drug ads in 2009 for were Cymbalta, making Eli Lilly $3.1 billion [4] in one year, despite the antidepressant’s links to liver problems and suicide. Pfizer spent $157 million advertising Lyrica for fibromyalgia in 2009, despite the seizure pill’s links to life-threatening allergic [5]reactions. The same year, it spent $107 million advertising the antidepressant Pristiq, even though it also had links to liver problems [6].

So, how does Pharma dupe us into using unsafe drugs? Today’s drug ads, targeted directly to consumers since 1999, seem like they sell diseases and often cast women, children, the elderly and mentally ill in a bad light. But a quick look at ads before direct-to-consumer advertising (DTC) in medical journals shows that drug ads have always done so. It’s just that patients didn’t used to see them.

Here are some of Pharma’s most offensive ad campaigns, then and now.

1. You’re Sicker Than You Think

When psychiatric drugs first became popular for use in the general population, in the late 1960s, everyday personality problems became imbued with psychiatric labels. “Lady, your anxiety is showing (over a coexisting depression),” says a 1970 ad, showing an older, wrinkly woman [7] in a bouffant wig with gigantic sunglasses and garish jewelry. “On the visible level, this middle-aged patient dresses to look too young, exhibits a tense, continuous smile and may have bitten nails or overplucked eyebrows,” says the ad copy. “What doesn’t show as clearly is the coexisting depression.”

The ad, both sexist and ageist, suggests the woman needs the antidepressant and tranquillizer Triavil.

Another ad from 1968 shows a bored, upper-middle-class couple whose hauteur [8] is also said to really be depression. “Do you have patients who try to hide frustration behind conformity?” says the ad for the antidepressant Aventyl HCl.

You’d think such demeaning ads would vanish with DTC advertising because people would be offended. But You’re Sicker-Than-You-Think ads are alive and well since DTC advertising and even flowering.

A three-page consumer ad in the late 2000s similarly conveys that everyday psychological traits could actually be dire mental problems that require medication. If you are “talking too fast,” “spending out of control,” “sleeping less,” “flying off the handle” and “buying things you don’t need,” you could be suffering from bipolar disorder said the ads, which appeared in magazines like People. And here you thought it was the coffee. Accompanying photos of a woman screaming into a phone and contorting her face are so extreme they could come out of the movie Halloween Part II, if the woman were holding a knife.

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Psychiatric drugs are not just advertised for everyday personality problems. Pharma is pushing them for everyday pain conditions. Eli Lilly’s original depression campaign for the antidepressant Cymbalta, “Depression Hurts [10],” seems to anticipate its subsequent approval for pain conditions including back problems. Now ads tout Cymbalta [11] as a “non-narcotic, once daily analgesic FDA approved for three indications across four different chronic pain conditions,” as if it does not have severe controversial psychiatric risks [12] including the suicide of volunteers who tested it.

And seizure and epilepsy drugs, known for major allergic and psychiatric reactions, are also becoming pain franchises. “What’s causing your chronic widespread muscle pain?” asks an ad for the seizure and epilepsy drug Lyrica. “The answer may be overactive nerves,” says the ad, even though “widespread muscle pain” and “over-active nerves,” are not mentioned in the approved labeling for Lyrica, says pharmaceutical reporter John Mack. The military spent$35 million [13] on seizure and epilepsy drugs in 2009 alone, including for migraines, headaches and pain.

And speaking of overkill, ads for genetically engineered injected drugs like Humira, approved to treat serious diseases like Crohn’s disease, psoriatic arthritis and chronic plaque psoriasis look like they are designed to sell beer [14] or beauty treatments [15], not immune suppressing drugs [16] that invite cancers[17] and lethal infections.

DTC ads don’t just escalate everyday problems into psychiatric problems, they also escalate real psychiatric problems into irresponsible, sensationalistic stereotypes. Ads for the best-selling antipsychotic Risperdal, widely used in children, and in soldiers with PTSD, suggest that people with mental illness have hallucinatory fears about “boiling rain [18]” and “dog women [19].” The “dog woman” ad, showing a half-dog, half-woman crouched on her elbows, her eyes blackened, furthers the sensationalizing of mental illness with the tagline, “Because relapses are a living nightmare.”

2. Your Kid Is Sick 

DTC ads don’t just convince people they’re in need of new drugs, but also that their kids may be, too. And it’s been going on for decades.

Long before Pharma convinced parents, teachers and clinicians that millions of US kids had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), kids were said to suffer from “minimal brain dysfunction [20]” (MBD) and “hyperkinesis,” two conditions that were essentially the same as ADHD. In fact, so many kids had MBD by 1976 that an ad [21] for the drug Cylert hailed the “Importance of single daily dose to the child, the parents and the teacher,” because kids wouldn’t have to be singled out anymore at pill time at school. (ADHD has been so huckstered, a YMCA ad spoofs [22] it with the headline, “Before video games, before Facebook, before Ritalin, there was basketball.”)

Yet neither Cylert–whose approval the FDA withdrew in 2005 because of liver failure and deaths–or the current ADHD drugs are safe. In 2009, researchers reported that kids are more likely to die sudden deaths [23] while taking them and the American Heart Association recommends electrocardiograms (ECGs) before kids take them. And yet, combined sales of ADHD drugs continue to grow from $4.05 billion to $7.42 billion in 2010 [24].

Thirty years ago, it certainly looked like kids were being overmedicated. They were given the antipsychotic Thorazine for their “hyperactivity,” “hostility [25],” sleep problems and even for vomiting [26]. Picky eaters and kids who wet the bed were given tranquillizers [27]. Kids with tics, stuttering and school phobia were given the tranquillizer Miltown.

 [28]

But today, ads promoting drugs for kids continue, and now they are aimed at parents. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference between ads for drugs or ads for sugary cereals! Pharma tells moms to give their kids the bubble gum-flavored [29] ADHD med, LiquADD and the grape-flavored ADHD med, Methylin. The latter campaign, to parents, is “Give ’em the GRAPE [30]!”

DTC advertising has also convinced parents their kids suffer from GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease) otherwise known as acid reflux disease, which was barely a disease in adults much less kids, before consumer advertising. “GERD Can Be a Big Problem for Little Kids,” say award-winning ads [31] for Prevacid, which won a “RX Club” Silver award in 2004 [32]. In Europe, kids are treated for another “adult disease” and given chewable Liptitor [33] to lower their cholesterol.

Some of Pharma’s most aggressive advertising has been designed to convince parents their children’s minor sniffles or wheezing areimminent asthma and require immediate and expensive drugs. To make the asthma drug Singulair (which also comes in a yummy chewable), the seventh most popular drug in 2010, Merck [34] inked partnerships with the American Academy of Pediatrics and Scholastic [35], both of which parents consider neutral organizations and not Pharma mouthpieces. Merck also partnered with Olympic gold-medalist swimmer Peter Vanderkaay and NBA kid clubs [36] to sell the asthma drug.

“A kid who’s got what your kid’s got is out doing what your kid’s not,” says one Singulair ad campaign [37]. “Find out how you can help your child breathe a little easier.”

If Singulair were not harmful, the huckstering would simply be a case of wasting money and overmedicating kids. But Singulair has been linked to bothpediatric suicide [38] and to emotional, behavioral and ADHD-like symptoms in kids, the latter likely inspiring parents to give their kids “the grape.”

Of course, another kid-targeted campaign is for the vaccine against the sexually transmitted Papillomavirus or HPV, immortalized by Gov. Rick Perry and Rep. Michele Bachmann in hot exchanges this fall. Many object to the sexualizing of 9-year-olds, to government lining Pharma’s pockets by promoting the vaccine (including overseas) and to the risks of the vaccines themselves. But the ads for Gardasil and Cervarix are also offensive.

Last spring, poster-sized ads for Gardasil on Chicago’s commuter trains pretended to sell real estate in sought-after neighborhoods. A closer look revealed descriptions of women in those neighborhoods who thought they didn’t need the HPV vaccine but did, positioning HPV not only as a general risk to the population, like flu, rather than an STD but as “hip.”

HPV vaccine ads got even cooler when GSK rolled out Cervarix extravaganza TV ads [39] and its “armed against cervical cancer [40]” campaign with an Angelina Jolie-like model displaying a skinny arm with a Cervarix tattoo.

3. Be Like Me, and Can Your Beer Do This?

Prescription drugs may affect health, but they are still consumer products sold with the same marketing principles as toothpaste or beer. In fact, the wacky, “Can Your Beer Do This?” Miller Lite campaign of the 1990s, came back to life to sell the antidepressant Wellbutrin XR. In a glossy, color magazine ad, a young man rows his girlfriend on a scenic lake and lists the benefits of his Wellbutrin XR. “Can your medicine do all that?” he asks.

[41]

What does it say about the success of DTC advertising that people are assumed to have an antidepressant?

Experiential ads also sell prescription drugs like vintage ads for the “Kodak Moment,” “Maalox Moment” and the old cigarette ads for the “L&M Moment” did. “Lunesta Sleep. Have You Tried it?” asks a 2007 ad in Parade magazine, elevating the experience to something akin to “designer sleep.”

 [42]

And just as celebrities move other consumer products, they have been deployed to sell prescription drugs. TV personality Joan Lunden and former baseball star Mike Piazza stumped for the allergy pill Claritin, ice skater Dorothy Hamill and track star Bruce Jenner for the pain pill Vioxx, and Sen. Bob Dole for Viagra. NASCAR figure Bobby Labonte also endorsed [43] the antidepressant Wellbutrin XL in 2004. Yes, his medicine could “do all that.”

But there has been a problem with celebrity drug endorsements, unlike product endorsements in which a celebrity like Tiger Woods or Martha Stewart could taint a product, a prescription drug can taint a celebrity! Did Dorothy Hamill know that Vioxx doubled the risk of heart attacks in users when she stumped for it? Did the model Lauren Hutton know that hormone replacement therapy causes a 26 percent higher incidence of breast cancer [44], a 29 percent increase in heart attacks, a 41 percent increase in strokes, and a doubling of the rate of blood clots when she shilled [45] for it? Does actress Sally Field know that bone drugs like Boniva are linked to esophageal cancer, jaw bone death and the very fractures they are supposed to prevent as she pushes them [46]?

Of course, good product marketing includes public relations. When Pharma sells a disease with no mention of the drug it is really selling, it’s called “unbranded” advertising. Since DTC advertising, Pharma has invaded public service announcements (PSAs) that TV and radio stations confer for free, pretending their take-a-drug messages serve the public good, like messages to change smoke detector batteries or put kids in car seats.

One such “educational” “awareness” campaign called “Depression Is Real [47]” saturated the radio air waves in 2011, funded by the National Alliance on Mental Illness, which was investigated by Congress [48] for its Pharma funding from Wyeth, part of Pfizer, and other groups. The high-budget ads, running for free, compare depression to diabetes because it doesn’t go away and to cancer because it can be fatal.

4. One Kind of Ad You Won’t See Anymore

Animal research at drug companies and the National Institutes of Health is a great scientific iceberg of which people only see a tip. In drug development, millions of animals die to prove a drug’s “safety.” At academic and medical centers, animal study grants from NIH provide millions to researchers and labs.

As sentiment grows against animal experiments and the government’s gigantic National Primate Research Centers (new rules will limit the use ofchimpanzees [49]), the research is downplayed and even hidden. But there was a time when Pharma actually flaunted animal research.

“More than a decade of animal research on various animal species has suggested that Librium (chlordiazepozxide HCI) exerts its principal effects on certain key areas of the limbic system,” says an ad from the 1970s, showing three monkeys crouching and dangling in cages as assorted experiments are conducted.

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An ad for the diet pill Pre-Sate is even worse. It says, “one of the most sophisticated comparative animal studies ever conducted demonstrates direct action on the satiety centers,” and shows five photos of cats in experiments. One shows a life-size white cat looking at the camera with a chain around its neck and invasive instrumentation embedded in its skull.

 [51]

Today’s consumers, it seems, wouldn’t tolerate ads like these. (Or the experiments behind them.) Why do they tolerate derisive ads about “dog women” and ploys to market pharmaceuticals to kids as if it were candy?