Skip to main content

Living in the 5%

No, I'm not writing about income inequality.  Good lord, I'm not that crazy.  I'm referring to the experience of experiencing the "rare" outcome.  You know the statistics.  They come with every treatment or procedure that we're subjected to.  The percentages are typically small, indicating the risk is very small, that something will turn out other than positive.  If they weren't, the FDA would punt these things right off the market.  Even medications with so-called "black box warnings" have risks for serious side effects under 10%.


So what happens when you find yourself in that elite group of people who fall into this "rare" situation?

I've worked with clients who are in this club and have personal experience, as well.  According to the "official" statistics for the widely used drug Infliximab (brand name Remicade), around 3% of people in a sample of about 5000 patients experienced a reaction during one of their infusions.  3% sounds like pretty good odds to me.  Heck, when I run statistics for the research I do if we get a less than 5% chance our results are due to chance, we get published.

Unfortunately for me, I had an infusion reaction during my 3rd dose of Infliximab.  Even with medications like benadryl or prednisone to try to prevent it, my body said nope, we're not doin' this.  3%.

In my work as a health psychologist, I've spoken with physicians about these low-probability problems that patients experience, and the reaction tends to be "well, the odds that that's happening are so low..."  I remember distinctly a woman I was working with who had chronic stomach pains but her tests were entirely normal.  I reviewed the side effect profiles of her medications for other conditions and found that for one of them, 2% of patients experienced the same symptoms she was having.  Her gastroenterologist was skeptical this was the cause but when she stopped the medication, her symptoms went away.  Was that a coincidence or did she fall into the 2%?

For those patients who have experienced living in the 5% their subsequent reactions to statistics seem to follow similar logic:  Well if I got that and the odds were so low, why wouldn't another low odds problem also happen?   Being told "you only have a 4% chance of this side effect" when you've already had a 4% chance side effect loses its comforting quality.  Even though the odds of 2 entirely separate events are not related.  We start to think there's something "special" about us and our risks are much higher than those listed on the drug information sheet.

What can then happen is we have a patient who's concerned about a rare side effect who may be seeing a physician who believes the percentages are solid and shouldn't impact treatment decisions, thereby creating a rift in the care team.  Patients may feel pressured or anxious about their decision, physicians may feel unheard or their expertise challenged.

There's no easy answer to this conundrum.  Have you experienced the 5%?  What's your take?

Best,
Dr. T




Popular posts from this blog

So You Have IBD During a Pandemic

Hey! What's going on? Been pretty boring over here in Chicago. Ok I don't need to elaborate on what the hell is going on in the world. We are being bombarded with information - some accurate, a lot inaccurate - about this pandemic. It's very easy to become completely overwhelmed by it all. We've been forced, pretty damn quickly, to completely overhaul our way of life for the greater good. To reduce the strain on our healthcare system of the sick and dying. And us humans are generally bad with rapid, monumental change that we really don't have a lot of say in. Our little reptilian brains do what they're supposed to do (prime us for fight or flight or freeze) but our advanced "thinking" parts of our brain have to interject with all sorts of unhelpful thoughts, thereby sending some of us off the rails. Before we start, turn off the news. Seriously. In the days following 9-11 we found people who consumed more 24-hour news channel information were mor

IBD & Medical Trauma

Medical trauma is such an under-recognized issue for the chronnically ill. It's a hard topic to talk about because it can seem like we are pointing fingers at healthcare workers. Maybe that's why there are only, now, 4 studies on the topic in patients with inflammatory bowel disease (IBD). If you are someone who treats people with IBD please know I am not here to demonize or criticize. I am both a patient and a GI psychologist. I know the medical system from both sides. I know how messed up and broken it is. But ignoring this or rationalizing it away as only affecting a few folks is wrong. So let's talk about it. Post-traumatic stress (PTS) is the term we use for medical trauma due to technicalities in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (DSM-5) for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTS can be less severe that full on PTSD, or it can be full on PTSD. Regardless, the symptoms are identical: Feeling hypervigilant/on-edge (increased

Psychosocial aspects of having an ostomy

This past Saturday, Tiffany and I had the honor of speaking at the United Ostomy Associations of America's Regional Midwest conference. I was assigned the task of speaking to the patients, and Tiffany addressed the partners or caregivers. I wanted to share with you some of the highlights from my talk. I only had an hour for my session, and with about 100 people in the room, it was not nearly enough time. I love bullet points, so here you go: We are all different! Every ostomate is different and not one size fits all for the emotional/mental aspect either. Who had months to talk about an ostomy and weigh pros/cons? Who was this a more sudden decision for? Who had cancer? Who had IBD? Something else? Who had an ileostomy? colostomy? urostomy? Who has a temporary? Permanent? Multiple temporaries? What age where you when you got your ostomy? Under 20, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60+ Who was single when they got their ostomy? With a serious partner when they had it? Some find a stom