PIckled penis

One of my preceptors recently taught me about a physical exam that was commonly done in the late 1980s: androscopy. It's an exam aimed at finding and treating HPV warts on the male genitalia. It is analogous to a (cervical) colposcopy in women.

The male is undressed from the waist down and lies on the exam table with feet in stirrups - similar to a woman undergoing a pelvic exam. The genitals (penis, scrotum, perineum) are wrapped gauze soaked with vinegar for five minutes and then inspected with the naked eye and with the colposcope (a special microscope). Lesions, if present, may be excised, cauterized (acid or freezing), or laser vapourized.

Interestingly, a pub med search has revealed that 51-65% of men who were clinically asymptomatic had lesions on their genitals when viewed under the microscope. However, up to 20% would continue to be seropositive for HPV even with negative follow-up colposcope exams; suggesting that androscopy was not eradicating the disease from the male population. For that reason, and because penile cancer is a very rare complication of male HPV, the exam was largely abandoned as routine practice.

It may come back into favour for the rectum, however, as anal cancer rates increase. Just as we now recommend screening anal pap smears for persons practicing anal intercourse, a vinegar anoscopy of the anus would be a logical follow up exam for a positive result.

For the men out there - yes, they put vinegar on the cervix for a colposcopy.

I called it!

Warning: this post involves some bragging. Let me state that I frequently get things wrong (thus, still in training), but that's not as fun to write about.

How clinic works: The attending sends me in to each room ahead of her to get a history and perform a physical exam. I then briefly present the patient to her as well as any recommendations I have. She then finishes the appointment with the patient (I'm in the room too).

I go in to see patient X who is supposedly here for a routine physical. I ask her how she's been feeling lately and she says "my optometrist said it was important I keep this appointment." On questioning I discover that she is having positional headaches and some intermittent nausea, but otherwise feels well. She denies any vision changes.

On physical exam, patient X had bilaterally blurred optic disc margins (papilledema), full visual fields to confrontation, but otherwise appeared well.

If you're in medical school, make your diagnosis now...

During my presentation I state that idiopathic intracranial hypertension is at the top of my differential, but that a mass lesion should be ruled out. I state that papilledema merits an MRI but that ultimately a lumbar puncture should be performed. My attending smiles at me, pats my hand and says, "please don't be offended if I disagree with you, that's a pretty rare thing to find."

We go in together to see patient X. My attending examines her and begins counseling her. Guess what turns out to be at the top of her differential? Guess what test she wants first? Yup. I may have given myself a mental pat on the back.

Sounds like...

One of the blogs I read recently had a patient come in with Flea-bitis. It reminded me of a mother who brought her son in to neurology clinic for a second opinion. Apparently he had been diagnosed with something that sounded like Gardenias. The neurologist and the NP threw out a series of potential neurologic conditions... Guillian-Barre, maybe? After a quiet moment, I volunteered, do you mean Myasthenia Gravis? Yes, she did.

No means no

I was in the hemodialysis unit recently, chatting with a patient about how his life had been affected by HD and how he generally feels. As corny as it may sound, I find these touchy-feely encounters with patients to be incredibly rewarding and informative. I think those of us who are healthy underestimate the impact of chronic disease, but simaltaneouly underestimate people's adaptive resiliance. This summer I have been fortunate to have several one-on-one opportunities, but group interactions of this kind are a regular part of our medical school curriculum.

Anway, this one was especially awkward because the patient proposed to me several times and repeatedly offered to have my children. He was neither demeted nor joking. He wanted to take me out to dinner that night and put a ring on my finger. He thought it was a genetic imperitive that I breed because I (apparently) am "drop-dead gorgeous and a genius." Just about every question I asked was answered with some variation on this theme (along with some genuine insight into renal failure) for almost two hours.

An example interaction:
Me: Do you have other health problems too?
Him: I'm healthy enough, if you know what I mean; no disrespect.
Me: How about high blood pressure or high cholesterol?
Him: Yes, I got both of those, lady.
Me: Are you on medications for them?
Him: Yes, but I don't take em. I don't believe in pills. I seen to many people die from pills.
Me: I suspect those were different kinds of pills. It's important that you take your medicines.
Him: I feel fine. I'll take them if you hand them out though.
Me: Your health could get a lot worse if you don't control your blood pressure and cholesterol. You want to make it to transplant don't you?
Him: I would take them if I had you to come home to, lady.
Me: Do you live with anyone now?
Him: No, you can move right in. I'll take you out to dinner tonight and put a ring on your finger.

More trauma pages

The trauma pager has beeped a few more times and I've seen multiple bike vs. car and a falling off a 30 foot ladder. Think chest tubes, intubation, consults with a neurosurgeon and lot of leg fractures. Any thoughts I had of becoming a bicyclist are definitely out. Mostly I just watch the trauma team in action, but occasionally I get to do things like put a gown on the person, stabilize the neck while rolling him.. small things of that nature.

I've also had two more gen med clinics. Yesterday's was particularly cool because Dr. K went in and did the appointment (without me), then sent me in to try my hand (observed by Dr. P). I asked my questions, did a limited physical exam and then explained what I thought it was and attempted to address the patients concerns and questions. Upon debrief with Dr. K and Dr. P... I got it RIGHT! I successfully diagnosed a real patient based only on information I gathered myself in real time. I have to admit, that felt really really good.

There was a second ego boost later in the day when the M4 on trauma rotation was quizzing the M3s on surgery about thoracotomy and pneumothorax. M3s didn't have a clue (and I knew all the answers, but kept my mouth shut because no one likes a show off). The current M3 class has been running around patting themselves on the back for their record-breaking board scores (their average was the highest at UofM ever), but they are being outdone by lowly little M2s in the trauma bay.

X-rays

Dr: A man came into clinic yesterday with pelvic pain. This was his x-ray. What do you think is wrong?

Me: There is a flashlight up his rectum.

Dr: Exactly.

Loose joints

With relative frequency one of my PIs points out small genetic aberrations I have - apparently my pupils are unequal, I have (benign) nystagmus and my nasal openings are narrow. If I had been developmentally delayed or ill these might have been taken in aggregate to try and identify a genetic diagnosis.

The latest finding was less direct. We were meeting a new patient and Dr. __ kept pointing out to me little things this girl could do that were more flexible than average. She could bend her fingers 90 degrees (see photo, my finger - you try), her elbows rotated more than 180 degrees and she would W-sit (sit like the japanese, then put your butt on the ground between your heels). I can do all of these things. At this point I am silently panicking... whatever this little girl has, I clearly have it too. Connective tissue disease? Autoimmune? I'm really a genetics case after all?!

None of the above. Turns out, to the degree we (little girl and I) have this flexibility is unusual, but not harmful. It can cause "clumsy kid syndrome" and mildly delay fine motor development, but prognosis is: normal kid. I've never been so glad to be normal.

Leashes on kids

I must admit that subscribe to the idea best articulated on the Simpsons, "the leash demeans us both." But last Friday I met a mom who admitted to using a leash for her toddler and if I were her I would probably use one too.

Her child has a neurologic condition that, among other things, leaves her son both developmentally delayed and non-verbal. What this means is that while her son can walk and run and jump, he does not speak and has not yet learned common social cues.

The mom is clearly an involved and attentive mother, but as any mom or even babysitter can attest it is impossible to be watching every second of every day. What happens if she's paying for the groceries or using an ATM and he runs off? He can't say his name or who his mom is. He can't say where he lives or where he last saw his mom and we're not certain he would understand to look where he last saw her or follow a command given over a PA system.

Mom has sewn his name and address into all his clothes, just in case. She can't give him an ID necklace because he could hurt himself with it. He had a bracelet but he broke it - and the one before that. She's saving up to get one in a metal he can't break. What happens when he becomes coordinated enough to undo the clasp on it himself?

I don't think leashes are appropriate for most children, but I understand the trade-off here. I would also rather be the mom who gets stared at than the mom who loses her child.

Clinic redux

Last Friday I shadowed an outpatient neurology clinic as I do once or twice a month; here are the highlights.

1. Childhood narcolepsy. This is diagnosed using a sleep latency test; abnormally quick decent into slow wave sleep indicated narcolepsy. Unfortunately, the normative data for children doesn't exist so it can be hard to definitively diagnose. An EEG is also a good idea to rule out seizures.

2. Autism. I've never seen autism to this degree before; the appointment was because of an increase in obstinate behavior. The child was barking intermittently and would lunge for any paper he saw (to eat it). He was pulling the threads out of his sweater and eating those too. The parents looked haggard and completely worn out; dad would jump at the slightest noise. Three clinicians saw the boy together to determine whether antipsychotics should be started or whether the current medications should simply have their doses tweaked.

3. Refractory status epilepticus. An adopted child who has failed five different kinds of anticonvulsants. In the last two weeks there have been no seizures, but the week prior there were two: 75 and 90 minutes in duration. An MRI and overnight EEG are on the table as the first step towards consideration of neurosurgery.

4. Cerebral palsy. Not usually something we see unless it's part of a larger issue, which, in this case, it was. We just don't know what the larger issue is. The part I want to bring up is that the leg muscles can get tight and force the knees to turn inwards. This realigns the hips; if left uncorrected, the hips can become painfully and permanently displaced.

5. Absence seizures with syncope. I have now met two children with this seizure type: they lose consciousness for the duration of their seizure. Invariably they are worked up by cardiology first and when they don't find anything, they send them to us and we hook them up to an EEG.

Playing neurologist

I shadowed Dr. L in clinic recently and it turned out to be particularly eventful. The medicine itself is always interesting, but this time it was the patient's behavior that made it memorable. We saw a girl who was recovering from stroke for a routine follow-up examination. Throughout the exam she was staring straight at me and refusing to acknowledge a single question or command posed by Dr. L. After trying one last time to get her to follow his finger with her eyes, he sat down and looked at her. She finally looked him in the face, pointed an arm straight out at me and said "I want her to do it." Dan looked at me, nodded, and I walked over and stood in front of the girl. I have seen at least fifty basic neurologic exams performed and could describe it in lurid detail, but standing there performing it was absolutely nerve wracking. Dr. L was standing immediately behind me interpreting everything I was doing... I was in no way evaluating the patient; I was simply the body she interacted with.

The next patient was another female, clearly somewhat on edge. Dr. L introduced me and a visiting physician (also shadowing) and began a conversation with her. Three sentences in she announced "I know you don't think I'm going to discuss my business with all these people in the room." I promptly offered to leave to make her more comfortable, but she countered, "you can stay, but the other one has to go." The visiting physician left the exam room (I would later learn she was uncomfortable with men, as the visiting physician was male, it was simply a matter of gender). She began telling a (rather sad) story about recent events and while she was talking she curled up into a ball on the exam table. When Dr. L turned to get a pen from the desk, she hopped off the table, ran across the room to me, and gave me a bear hug. After a few minutes she released me and sat in my lap. The rest of the visit was conducted with her on my lap, one arm around my shoulders.

Most of Dr. L's patients have met me once, many of them at least twice now. Quite a few remember me when they come in and ask me how school is going, which is really quite remarkable to me. After all, I am silent most of the time, just watching and smiling. Apparently though, they are beginning to feel comfortable with me, which is a great feeling. I hope this carries over to my future career, that my patients feel they can trust me and be open the way these two girls were. The way all Dr. L's patients are with him.

Interventional Radiology

I shadowed a third year fellow in the cardiac cath lab today, watching two interventional procedures. The first was the expansion of a stenotic bicuspid aortic valve and the second was the closure of an atrial septal defect (ASD).

Note: The cath lab pictured is at Columbus Children's, not where I work. They look the same, though.

During the first case it took almost two hours to get access - meaning to establish a catheter in a femoral artery and femoral vein. In this case it was important to have both because we wanted to measure the blood pressure in the left ventricle and in the aorta. Ideally there is no difference; in our patient there was a 100 mm Hg gradient. This indicates that the aortic valve is very stenotic (narrow) - a condition that eventually requires a valve replacement. Valve replacements in children are to be avoided so there are two ways to buy some time: 1) expand the valve with a balloon in a catheter procedure or 2) open the chest and scrape the valve in surgery. The procedures carry approximately the same rate of complication, but each carries a different complication. Surgery generally leaves residual stenosis and interventional radiology tends to produce aortic insufficiency (backwards flow through the valve from the aorta into the ventricle).

The second case involved using a yo-yo looking instrument to plug a hole in the septum separating the two atria. If you look closely at the picture to the right you can see it in the top, just right of center. Once the catheter enters the heart, it is threaded through the hole (technically called a patent forman ovale, patent indicating open) and the first half of the yo-yo is deployed. The catheter is retracted through the hole and the second half of the yo-yo is deployed. It's very important that the placement is correct because otherwise it could loosen and go bumping around the heart or even enter the systemic circulation (depending on the size and type of closure device used).

Interestingly, you cannot actually see the outlines of the heart when doing a cath procedure. All the monitors carry continuous x-ray images and if you've seen an x-ray before you know that it's nearly impossible to see tissue with any resolution. That's how well these guys know the heart. They can tell by the ribs and chest cavity around it exactly where they are inside it. When appropriate, they will use a simultaneous ultrasound though (on which you can see tissue and blood flow).

At the end of the day, I'm not sure this is my new specialty of choice. It was incredibly cool to see and the people who work in the group were really fun (the atmosphere resembled a sports team pre and post game), but the patients are sedated the whole time you are with them and man, those lead aprons/vests/thyroid glands are heavy and hot!

Monthly clinic

On Friday I shadowed the outpatient neurology clinic, as I do once a month, and observed a days worth of follow-up visits. Most clinic days seem to show a theme - more likely because something registers in my subconscious than any trick of patient scheduling. Considering my recent review of genetics, it's perhaps not overly mysterious that this month impressed upon me the phenotypic markers that can signal an underlying neurologic process.

Most of you are probably familiar with some of the more famous neurologic phenotypes. For example, the Down's syndrome features of a single transverse palmar crease (simian crease), epicanthic eyelid fold, flattened nasal bridge, shortened limbs, proruding tongue, and white spots on the iris (Brushfield spots). The genetic correlate of Down's is whole or partial trisomy 21.

There are, in fact, a large number of genetic or neurologic processes that can be identified by phenotypic markers. An non-genetic example would be a perinatal (near time of birth) stroke patient. His stroke included part of the internal capsule and thus affected the neuronal tract that includes motor neurons. His stroke was right-sided, so one would expect left-sided motor affects. Indeed, because the stroke was not immediately noticed during his infancy (most infants do not get MRIs) his left side failed to develop properly. His left arm is shorter than his right (atrophy) and displays abnormal tone and fine motor control. In this case, the morphologic presentation of a shortened arm with abnormal tone allows a neurologist to begin localising his stoke before ever seeing an image.

A note about fine motor control - I get a lot of questions about this. Gross motor contol is large movements: walking, throwing, and lifting. Fine motor is things like tieing shoes, buttoning buttons, and writing. One test you might see a neurologist perform is asking a patient to touch their first finger to their thumb, then their second, third, and fourth. Another is to tap their first finger and thumb together as rapidly as possible.

Regarding motor development in infants... like anything else it's hardest to assess in younger children. Babies have little to no purposeful motor control so assessment usually consists of examining involuntery movement for abnormal posturing, tone or lack of movement. Mild deficits can be difficult to note until a child fails to develop on a normal timeline (ie, cannot stand independently or sit-up on time).

And now a genetic example. I should mention that this patient has not yet been conclusively diagnosed, we simply added Wolf-Hirschhorn to the differenital because of the phenotype. There were two children who came into clinic after having been neglected by their biological parents. It was impossible to tell whether they were delayed due to lack of input or whether there was genuine neurologic impairment of some kind. The children were placed in foster care and came back speaking 3 word sentences (they are 3 and 4 yrs old), but still underweight and incapable of tasks such as putting on clothing or drinking from normal cups. The younger child displayed tremors (attributed to more than being nervous because it affected her head as well) and the older child has "greek-helmet head", microcephaly (small head), and shortened stature. Greek helmet head is characterised by a high hairline and a broad, flat nose.

If the older child does have Wolf-Hirschhorn (deletion on chromosome 4) he's both lucky and unlucky. Unlucky because it's associated with fairly profound mental retardation, and lucky because his phenotype is (apparently) relatively mild. More extreme symptoms can include cardiac septal defects, poor development of secondary sex characteristics (genitals), renal (kidney) malformation, malrotation of the intenstines, and hand/foot contractures.

One of the important notes about these phenotypic varients is that in order to dianose anything they generally occur in clusters. For example, just having wide-set eyes or a high hairline doesn't mean you have a genetic defect or a neurologic symdrome. Cleft palate is a midline closure defect - a characteristic of Wolf-Hirschhorn syndrome. However, far more babies are born with cleft palate than Wolf-Hirschhorn: about 1 in 600-800 vs. 1 in 50,000.