Yeah. Yeah and Scrib would talk every once in awhile about it. Yeah, it was a, it was an imperfect solution obviously and, and it bothered him. It bothered him. It, it, it, the thing about it that bothered him was having to turn people away that, in his view, well, in his view it was unnecessary and he couldn’t understand and we couldn’t understand why society wouldn’t come to grips with the, the problem. And deal with the problem. It was just, it was pushed to the side. And uh, I’m, I’m glad I wasn’t on that committee.I think that Scribner thought if society had to shoulder the burden of choosing, then they wouldn't choose, they'd fund enough to meet demand. I'd say that's what happened. It took 10 years but uniquely dialysis is funded in this country - between Medicaid and Medicare 98 or so % of people who need to use dialysis have funding for their care. Would that have happened if Scribner had made the decision? If Scribner had decided to leave it to chance - luck of some sort of draw - would there be a ESRD program under Medicare?
I don't think the work of the committee created collateral damage unless you are saying there was some path that could have led to a meaningfully different result. I don't think there was such a path.
If Scribner had instead used some sort of random strategy that you would, today, approve of, it could have produced the EXACT same result - unlikely but possible. So it isn't the results that repulse you, rather it is the process that led to the results.
What I'm saying is that by not doing society's dirty work Scribner left society to figure it out and what was learned is that it can't be done. I think you are taking the position that people should have know it couldn't be done and refused to do it but I don't think it is reasonable, in the age of medical miracles and space travel and a limitless future (the 1962 Seattle Worlds Fair - the Century 21 Exposition - is the context that this happening) to expect people to widely recognized the limits of reason and human judgement.
Medicare is going to realize it cannot cope with ALL of the new dialysis patients coming on board as the population ages.
I don't think an ageing population is going to be the only thing that increases the dialysis population. I suspect that more younger people are generally less fit with obesity, diabetes and hypertension running rampant, and these maladies cause renal disease and failure.
Thanks for the information, Bill. This provides a lot more context, and I can see that Scribner at least was doing the absolute best he could. After reading your posts, I can see that it was an important and wise decision to "refuse to do society's dirty work" as you say. I think the approach should have been more direct, and I still think that the panel should never have rationalized themselves into taking on this task. Really, seeing the thought process is what really sickens me. As a natural born atheist and a female well under the age of 18 at the time of my first dialysis, they have made it crystal clear that my life represents no value to them. Funny, as I am quite sure I have sent more than a couple doctors' children to university through my illness alone. If it was just a matter of being able to buy one's way out, my family would have been in a position to to do just that, and let's assume that they would have. Also, the promise to not sue the hospital that played a large part in destroying my kidneys would probably have been all the contribution that was needed. I hate the idea of people dying for lack of money - always have and always will. Just as I detest the idea that someone would be chosen for slaughter over their religious beliefs - was the labor leader that blind to the history that he was invoking with that creepy statement? It would appear so.
So in your calculus of selecting people to live (I think you give too little credit to the distinction of selecting people to die v selecting people to live) you'd also want to select people who could live the longest, people who could make the most use of the opportunity. Robin Eady is still alive. He had a complete career as an important doctor for kids who suffer from a debilitating and rare skin disease. Many Mom's around the world think of Robin as a living angel and have no idea about his CKD history.
I would love to see those articles. This is a fascinating time in history.
I am sure Robin Eady gave much back to the world, and continues to do so. But we cannot know what we would have seen from those who were not chosen, especially the children. Robin Eady sounds like a rare and wonderful person, and how amazing that he's still alive, and in looking him up, that he did not dialyse as a bridge to transplant, but rather was on hemo for 24 years. It was a great choice to save him, of course, but as they say 'winning the lottery does not mean that it was a good decision to buy a ticket'. I am interested to hear how you view the distinction of "selecting people to die vs selecting people to live" because I really don't see it. To me, ever the cynic I'll grant you, this is a semantics game to make the committee more palatable. Assuming for a moment that I needed dialysis back in '76 in order to get the transplant, and that I had to go in front of a committee to get it, they would have met a child different in almost every conceivable way from the person I became. I was extremely angry. I was the very definition of non-compliant, (which I find to be an infantalizing and judgmental word to this day). My doctors were not Scribner, they were cold, distant egomaniacs and as a result, I refused to say a single word to any of them and would talk through my parents. "Tell him he's hurting me. Tell him to go away." Like that. I bit a nurse and never felt a moment's remorse. The nadir was probably during a rejection episode, no one had bothered to explain a thing to me and all I could think was that I was back in that House of Horrors, so I climbed up on a ledge and paced back and forth, letting them believe that I was going to jump, and I essentially shut the ward down. (It was chaos in there. They sent me home that day, which is exactly what I wanted and needed.) I am not a doctor and I never saved any lives and I don't think the word 'angel' would be at all appropriate, but does that mean that my life is worth less than Robin Eady's? I guess I am not utilitarian enough for this line of thinking. (And, yes, I can certainly see the argument that my life is worth demonstrably less, but I'd rather not dwell on this rather depressing line of thinking.)I would love to see those articles. This is a fascinating time in history. I'll send you my email address via PM and if it's not too much trouble, send them on over.
Quote from: cariad on August 02, 2011, 05:04:27 PMI am sure Robin Eady gave much back to the world, and continues to do so. But we cannot know what we would have seen from those who were not chosen, especially the children. Robin Eady sounds like a rare and wonderful person, and how amazing that he's still alive, and in looking him up, that he did not dialyse as a bridge to transplant, but rather was on hemo for 24 years. It was a great choice to save him, of course, but as they say 'winning the lottery does not mean that it was a good decision to buy a ticket'. I am interested to hear how you view the distinction of "selecting people to die vs selecting people to live" because I really don't see it. To me, ever the cynic I'll grant you, this is a semantics game to make the committee more palatable. Assuming for a moment that I needed dialysis back in '76 in order to get the transplant, and that I had to go in front of a committee to get it, they would have met a child different in almost every conceivable way from the person I became. I was extremely angry. I was the very definition of non-compliant, (which I find to be an infantalizing and judgmental word to this day). My doctors were not Scribner, they were cold, distant egomaniacs and as a result, I refused to say a single word to any of them and would talk through my parents. "Tell him he's hurting me. Tell him to go away." Like that. I bit a nurse and never felt a moment's remorse. The nadir was probably during a rejection episode, no one had bothered to explain a thing to me and all I could think was that I was back in that House of Horrors, so I climbed up on a ledge and paced back and forth, letting them believe that I was going to jump, and I essentially shut the ward down. (It was chaos in there. They sent me home that day, which is exactly what I wanted and needed.) I am not a doctor and I never saved any lives and I don't think the word 'angel' would be at all appropriate, but does that mean that my life is worth less than Robin Eady's? I guess I am not utilitarian enough for this line of thinking. (And, yes, I can certainly see the argument that my life is worth demonstrably less, but I'd rather not dwell on this rather depressing line of thinking.)I would love to see those articles. This is a fascinating time in history. I'll send you my email address via PM and if it's not too much trouble, send them on over. The default in my mind is what would happen with no action. If you need a person to go into an nuclear reactor to fix some problem and there is very little chance of surviving (the Spock scenario) and you have a group of volunteers but you only need one then you're choosing who is going to die. Without any action all the volunteers would live (unless they couldn't get away from the nuclear device) so the action is choosing who will have a different fate, who will die.The Seattle admission committee faced a group of people who all were going to die. In the absence of action the result was 100% mortality so in this case the choosing who will have a different fate meant picking who would live.>>>--<<<Children weren't considered because they thought the treatment was too arduous for a anyone but an adult. And reading the accounts I think they were probably right. I don't think the admission committee faced a situation analogous to the Titanic: Too many people, too few places in the raft; woman and children first.I'd say the admission committee's choice was more like picking who, from among the qualified volunteers, was going to go out and slay the dragon. At this time people were not sure that dialysis was a good idea and these brave dialyzors went forward to tell us what it was like, was it worth it? - it was their experience that gave people the confidence to make routine dialysis a reality. >>>--<<<These committees operated throughout the country, in some areas right into the '70s. The Seattle committee is the only one I hear about but I am fascinated by the situation and reading about what actually happened. Someone (or ones) needs to collect the memories of people who interacted with other committees - anywhere there was dialysis in 1964 to 1968 must have had a committee. I'm really hoping to find the minutes of the Seattle committee but someone else needs to track down the history of other selection committees.>>>--<<<I'm not sure what my point was about Robin other than just how amazing and random it all was/is ... his Mom read the Life article in a beauty salon in Paris. A few months later Scribner carried Robin off the plane after he arrived in Seattle too uremic to walk.
I had never considered the best survival and contribution to society to use as an advertisement in a sense of the power of dialysis.
While we look back from our current perspective where social worth and other such factors used by the committee are easy to criticize, I would be interested in how people would have chosen the few that qualified if they sat on the committee themselves. How would you approach this resource allocation.
But Scribner does clarify a few things - he seems to be agreeing with cariad :-)