User login
When we address this problem with patients, some become immediately defensive, making it difficult to modify treatment regimens. It’s almost as if people believe that they have a “right” to their medications and nobody should dare take them away. Even when I think the interaction goes relatively smoothly, the outcome usually shows otherwise.
I will decrease gabapentin from 3,200 mg per day and they will come back with cyclobenzaprine from the urgent care center down the block.
I try to stop an abused amphetamine and dextroamphetamine, and not only do the drugs show up in the urine toxicology test a month later (from the brother’s girlfriend’s sister) but the screening will be positive for cocaine (from the sister’s boyfriend’s brother) and probably alprazolam, too.
People want what they want, and I believe what they want is the overwhelming need not to feel, and especially to not feel our natural and uncomfortable states of pain, sadness, anxiety, fatigue, and discomfort (sometimes all at once). They will use anything orally or intravenously or nasally to make those feelings go away.
I am an addiction specialist so I write this commentary out of care and concern and recognition of how much, pain both physical and psychic, people suffer.
Perhaps we as physicians are conditioned to believe that we must prescribe “something” to the patient who is uncomfortable and sitting in front of us. In general we are sympathetic to the needs of those who come to us in distress, and we try our best to help reduce their symptoms.
I know that we cannot simply “fire” people, because these patients are ours to take care of; they are our responsibility, though this is our overused response to “difficult” patients.
And I know that we have insufficient replacements for these medications. We stopped prescribing oxycodone and now people are on gabapentin in the highest doses, diversion is up, and so is its abuse.
Many of us regularly teach about breathing and mindfulness. I discuss trauma and talk therapy. I order physical therapy and walking regimens and podcasts. But our relationship is transactional, and in prescribing a medication, I have shown them that I am hearing them. I hate this feeling of being trapped.
I spend much of my day negotiating and drive home at night feeling like nothing more than a vending machine.
Dr. Hambright is with the department of addiction medicine at Samaritan Daytop Village, Ellenville, N.Y., and Samadhi Recovery Community Outreach Center, Kingston, N.Y. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
When we address this problem with patients, some become immediately defensive, making it difficult to modify treatment regimens. It’s almost as if people believe that they have a “right” to their medications and nobody should dare take them away. Even when I think the interaction goes relatively smoothly, the outcome usually shows otherwise.
I will decrease gabapentin from 3,200 mg per day and they will come back with cyclobenzaprine from the urgent care center down the block.
I try to stop an abused amphetamine and dextroamphetamine, and not only do the drugs show up in the urine toxicology test a month later (from the brother’s girlfriend’s sister) but the screening will be positive for cocaine (from the sister’s boyfriend’s brother) and probably alprazolam, too.
People want what they want, and I believe what they want is the overwhelming need not to feel, and especially to not feel our natural and uncomfortable states of pain, sadness, anxiety, fatigue, and discomfort (sometimes all at once). They will use anything orally or intravenously or nasally to make those feelings go away.
I am an addiction specialist so I write this commentary out of care and concern and recognition of how much, pain both physical and psychic, people suffer.
Perhaps we as physicians are conditioned to believe that we must prescribe “something” to the patient who is uncomfortable and sitting in front of us. In general we are sympathetic to the needs of those who come to us in distress, and we try our best to help reduce their symptoms.
I know that we cannot simply “fire” people, because these patients are ours to take care of; they are our responsibility, though this is our overused response to “difficult” patients.
And I know that we have insufficient replacements for these medications. We stopped prescribing oxycodone and now people are on gabapentin in the highest doses, diversion is up, and so is its abuse.
Many of us regularly teach about breathing and mindfulness. I discuss trauma and talk therapy. I order physical therapy and walking regimens and podcasts. But our relationship is transactional, and in prescribing a medication, I have shown them that I am hearing them. I hate this feeling of being trapped.
I spend much of my day negotiating and drive home at night feeling like nothing more than a vending machine.
Dr. Hambright is with the department of addiction medicine at Samaritan Daytop Village, Ellenville, N.Y., and Samadhi Recovery Community Outreach Center, Kingston, N.Y. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
When we address this problem with patients, some become immediately defensive, making it difficult to modify treatment regimens. It’s almost as if people believe that they have a “right” to their medications and nobody should dare take them away. Even when I think the interaction goes relatively smoothly, the outcome usually shows otherwise.
I will decrease gabapentin from 3,200 mg per day and they will come back with cyclobenzaprine from the urgent care center down the block.
I try to stop an abused amphetamine and dextroamphetamine, and not only do the drugs show up in the urine toxicology test a month later (from the brother’s girlfriend’s sister) but the screening will be positive for cocaine (from the sister’s boyfriend’s brother) and probably alprazolam, too.
People want what they want, and I believe what they want is the overwhelming need not to feel, and especially to not feel our natural and uncomfortable states of pain, sadness, anxiety, fatigue, and discomfort (sometimes all at once). They will use anything orally or intravenously or nasally to make those feelings go away.
I am an addiction specialist so I write this commentary out of care and concern and recognition of how much, pain both physical and psychic, people suffer.
Perhaps we as physicians are conditioned to believe that we must prescribe “something” to the patient who is uncomfortable and sitting in front of us. In general we are sympathetic to the needs of those who come to us in distress, and we try our best to help reduce their symptoms.
I know that we cannot simply “fire” people, because these patients are ours to take care of; they are our responsibility, though this is our overused response to “difficult” patients.
And I know that we have insufficient replacements for these medications. We stopped prescribing oxycodone and now people are on gabapentin in the highest doses, diversion is up, and so is its abuse.
Many of us regularly teach about breathing and mindfulness. I discuss trauma and talk therapy. I order physical therapy and walking regimens and podcasts. But our relationship is transactional, and in prescribing a medication, I have shown them that I am hearing them. I hate this feeling of being trapped.
I spend much of my day negotiating and drive home at night feeling like nothing more than a vending machine.
Dr. Hambright is with the department of addiction medicine at Samaritan Daytop Village, Ellenville, N.Y., and Samadhi Recovery Community Outreach Center, Kingston, N.Y. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.