Too Many Acronyms

AF w/RVR + AS.

One of our staff calls up from the ED to the floor (gag) where I have to work for three more long weeks with an 'interesting case'. A fib with RVR is common; my first week, we had, like, seven of them, old people with underachieving, scatter-brained atria fibrillating away and ventricles that responded too quickly, leading to usually mild badness like relative hypotension, shortness of breath, weakness, and so on. This one, though...

He came in as a trauma, having fallen off of his bike. EMS did CPR for 'a minute or two' with a stated GCS of 4 initially, and then 9. He was hypotensive with an irregularly irregular pulse, and a harsh, mechanical murmur over the right and left chest. He had old, old fistulas on his right arm for dialysis.

Now A fib doesn't seem so benign. The irregularity keeps the ventricles from being able to pump well; first, they're chaotic, and second, they lose the 'atrial kick' that is often needed to fill them. This gentleman's murmur sounded like aortic stenosis, adding one more problem; the same ventricle that lost it's sidekick atrium also has to push against a tiny, hardened valve.

He comes to the ICU with a rate of 150 or so, and a pressure of 70/48. He won't answer me. He won't open his eyes. He won't do anything. He also doesn't respond to pain. But he's breathing. Thank goodness my ED staff from the department had warned me that he's got mental retardation, too; and thank goodness his mom was there to tell me that he hates hospitals, and ignores everyone. If I hold his eyes open, he looks at me. Cautiously, I decide that he's wide awake, just faking it. Usually this doesn't bother me to assume, but when his pressure is now, hmm, 72/50, it makes me nervous.

What to do? He gets a fluid bolus. He gets pads put on. Now I'm stuck. If I give him too much fluid, that floppy heart pushing against the valve will get filled like a water balloon and lose it's strength from being stretched. The rhythm I can try to fix with a shock, but I don't know if he has a clot in there that could shoot up into his scon-box and infarct a bunch of brain. Even if I shock him, he has a fixed outflow obstruction from the valve--a class of problems that can cause shock because blood is blocked. Other similar lesions include massive PEs, and tension pneumothorax, although the obstructing mechanisms are vastly different. He has two IVs, so we just watch him. Watch him, and worry.

I start explaining to his mother how he'll probably need surgery, and he yells 'no!' from the bed, then 'no, no, no!' just to make sure. Ironically, he looks strikingly like a bald Dustin Hoffman, making the comparison to Rain Man complete. I feel much better with my retarded, hypotensive, irregularly irregular, stenotic, and syncopal patient who is now vociferously negative. Thank you for your lack of cooperation, sir. Keep it up.

Review his labs; the EKG is irregularly irregular but no ST elevations; the chest x-ray, unfortunately, has a hugely wide mediastinum, but 'no!' is also the answer to my inquiry about chest pain, so perhaps this can wait. His troponin is 0.5, which is elevated but not yet in the NSTEMI territory (that is, he doesn't have a heart attack, yet).

As the Fat Man says, the delivery of good medical care is to do as much nothing as possible. So we do nothing. We watch. We wait. And at 7 am, when the team arrives, and the post-call sigh of relief occurs, my retarded, stenotic, hypotensive, irregular, contrarian friend is in a regular rhythm (on his own), has a pressure of 94/62, and still shouts 'no!' whenever surgery is mentioned, now opening his eyes and sticking out his bottom lip to make the point. More to come. I want to see that valve when it gets hacked out (he NEEDS it).

The Laying On of Hands

Today at conference we ended up going around the table and swapping stories like geezers comparing fish. Here, in no particular order, are some of my favorites.

Elderly, gaunt gentleman with a giant sternal scar from a CABG comes in with nausea, vomiting, and a mass pushing up like a grapefruit just below the lower edge of his sternum. I walked in and started to ask questions, nonchalantly examining his abdomen at the same time. He was going along while I noticed a large hernia, probably at the base of his old CABG incision, and gently applied steady pressure for twenty or thirty seconds. Pop! In it went, and his lump was gone. "Cured", I said. He stayed for a couple hours for observation and went home. Priceless.

An elderly granny, cute like only old people are cute, took her morning beta-blocker and promptly 'bradied down' into the thirties, starting to get loopy as her heart rate dropped. We came over to see her, and my intern, having just pimped me on the antidote to beta-blockers--glucagon--proceeded to fix her with one dose. Way, way cooler than atropine. From an intern. Big shoes to fill, big shoes.

One man, having a full-on, strength-sapping, one-sided-weakness-causing, speech-slurring, tragic stroke, sneezed. And was cured. No joke.

Scruffy, unshaven construction worker comes from the bar, not for trauma, or a fist laceration from someone else's tooth, or alcohol poisoning, but for supraventicular tachycardia, narrow peaks of anxiety ticking along regular as clockwork at about 160 or 180 sitting in bed. Joe, the attending from Chicago who's seen everything and works nights as if he's of the undead, walks in, nonchalantly. We prepare the adenosine, get a line. Joe says, head cocked to the side, "try something for me...bear down like you're going to the bathroom." So the scruffy guy valsalvas hard, and beep...beep...right down to about 75 or 80, normal sinus rhythm. He sticks there, too. Beautiful. About 1 in 4 SVT rhythms will break with a valsalva maneuver. Free, easy, all-natural, organic medicine.

Here's to the fun cases.

What do this shack and a little girl have to do with an EKG?

So there's a foundation, Hearts for Kids, that helps kids in Africa get heart transplants. That's awesome. This picture, from their website, is where their patients live.

I don't know anything about them, I just found them with Google while I was searching for rheumatic fever. If you do a Google image search for the same, you'll see a lot of black and white pictures from the pre-antibiotic era of people who died from RF, including Mozart. Then I saw this picture. Not black and white. Full color. Hmmm.

RF is still on our diagnosis list of kids with fever and migratory rash; it can attack the heart most famously, or cause people to have similar symptoms to Huntington's disease, also known as Syddenham's chorea. During a grand rounds last week, a distinguished class of residents at a top program didn't recognize a video of it. That video was taken in Africa. To learn about it, I've had to use the Internet, textbooks, and slides, because I've never seen a case, and likely never will until I travel overseas.

According to an NEJM article, rheumatic fever in the US has decreased precipitously. From being a more common topic than stroke in the era from 1967 to 1976, it is now rare, and a search of all medical journals in the US yields only eight articles between 1997 and 2006. But in places like that in the picture above--that is, the 80% of the world without access to prompt antibiosis for strep throat--there are 470,000 new cases of ARF each year.

What got me on this topic? EKGs, actually. Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome is a sub-set of supraventricular tachycardias, or fast heart rhythms. It is a characteristic, classic finding on an EKG; there is a bit of an early rise in the QRS complex called the delta wave, and it represents a track of heart muscle that goes around the normal pathway of conduction. It typically does not cause problems (story to the patient) but can proceed to ventricular fibrillation (story to students) if you block the normal pathway.



Our hearts have a built in delay to allow for filling of the ventricles. Because the WPW pathway bypasses that system, if it becomes ascendant, it conducts directly from the atria to the ventricles at a rate of anywhere from 150-300 beats per minute. That is sometimes called 'badness'. If the patient is unstable, the best treatment is to shock them (electrical cardioversion). If they are stable but fast, a variety of drugs can be used; I learned that adenosine, which is usually used even in the field by paramedics for narrow-complex tachycardias should not be used for WPW, but some texts seem to suggest it is acceptable. I'll have to read more to figure out the differences.

WPW was first described by a few physicians, as often happens, but Paul Dudley White, who worked at Harvard at the turn of the century, described it in 1908. It is interesting to note why he became a physician, and to wonder why he decided to focus on the heart. He, like countless others at the turn of the century, before the advent of penicillin, lost a sister to acute rheumatic fever at the age of 12.