CLINICAL DIABETES
VOL. 17 NO. 3 1999


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PRACTICE PROFILES


Surviving the Medical Meltdown in California

Claresa Levetan, MD


Editor's note: In the "Practice Profiles" department of Clinical Diabetes, we spotlight clinicians who have chosen to dedicate a significant portion of their time to the care of patients with diabetes. We welcome suggestions for future interviews.


Who. Eric J. Klein, MD

What. An infectious disease specialist who became a diabetes specialist.

Where. Olympia, Wash., after surviving the "medical meltdown" in California.

Why. In 1987, his 2-year-old daughter became one of the youngest people to develop type 1 diabetes.

Did you always know that you were going to be a doctor?
No. I grew up in Seattle, Wash. My father was an aeronautical engineer for the Boeing company. He often brought home work labeled "TOP SECRET" that I was never allowed to see. My high school years were times of high anxiety about the Russians and Sputnik (my next-door neighbor even had a bomb shelter), and everyone was expected to be some sort of scientist.

When I went to the University of Washington, I started out in the honors math program, but the material was so esoteric and boring that I decided to switch majors. Next came physics, then chemistry, and although I did well, I couldn't see myself spending the rest of my life in these fields.

In these classes, I began to bump into the pre-med students, although they usually just took the basic nonmajor science classes, and they seemed to have the clearest idea of where they were going. And unlike the physics and engineering majors, they didn't wear their slide rules on their belts. (I kept mine hidden when I was in public.) In addition, I had a huge amount of respect for my long-standing family doctor, although I never felt I could fill his shoes. At the end of my junior year, I suddenly made my decision, and I have never regretted it.

What led you to initially become an infectious disease consultant?
While in residency at Harbor General in Torrance, Calif., in internal medicine, I found all aspects of internal medicine fascinating. During my residency, I did additional work in infectious diseases and published several articles.

In my final year, I was recruited to join a group in Sacramento, Calif., aptly named Consulting Internists (this name was later to be our undoing). The physicians I joined in that group were superbly trained in nephrology, endocrinology, rheumatology, noninvasive cardiology, and critical care medicine (although that term had not yet been coined). I often felt I was in a continuing postgraduate program.

We spent most of our time doing hospital consults and gradually acquired large consulting office practices that covered all aspects of nonprocedural internal medicine. I successfully treated the first toxic shock case in our area (before the disease was described) but was not so fortunate with a growing number of bizarre infections I began seeing in early 1980 (more than a year before AIDS was defined).

You were in practice in California as the health care system underwent drastic changes in that state. What was your experience?
Internal medicine radically changed as California became a pioneer in managed care. Procedural internal medicine spurred on by high reimbursements proliferated. During much of this time, our hospitals would add twice a many new cardiologists as new generalists. It seemed at first that the insurance companies and Medicare were singling out internal medicine for lower reimbursement.

Additionally, our hospitals' implementation of the COBRA laws of 1987 was onerous to internal medicine. We were mandated to take all unassigned medicine admissions (often more than five in a night). Most of the family medicine physicians dropped off staff, and the specialists, such as the cardiologists, refused any case that did not require a cauterization. Most of our cases were nonreinbursed. My office-based practice was similarly affected as managed care decided to pay me on a capitated basis.

My large number of complex patients acquired during my consulting years in Sacramento were now a noose around my neck. We changed our name to Internal Medicine Associates and refused consultations. I went for 2 years without a vacation and moved to a smaller home as my income dropped by more than half. I was seeing more than 30 patients a day and had no opening for even a simple follow-up for months.

During this period in the late 1980s, we merged our 10-man group into a large multispeciality "group without walls" of more than 100 physicians to negotiate with insurance carriers and hospitals for contracts to help give us some control in this increasingly complex environment. Unfortunately, reimbursements continued to tumble, and our overhead skyrocketed.

At one point, we had a deficit of more than $1 million, and I often felt like I was working to keep out of debt. Being in this larger group allowed us access to the salaries of other members. Although I was the highest-paid salaried internist, I made less than half of what my children's pediatrician earned and one-third as much as a starting anesthesiologist.

However, in 1990 two white knights appeared to save the day. Sutter Community Hospital began active negotiations to buy our foundering group. Leaving my old group would have been financially disastrous to my remaining colleagues, who had been my closest friends for more than 14 years. The Sutter offer suddenly solved this dilemma.

At this same time I received an unsolicited offer to set up a solo practice next to Capital Medical Center, a small hospital in Olympia, Wash. The offer and timing seemed too good to be true. My remaining original partners are still working for Sutter Health Systems but have quit their specialties of nephrology, rheumatology, and endocrinology and do primarily geriatric general internal medicine. My only regrets were the loss of my collegial associates and friends and my old patients.

How did you come to change your specialty from infectious diseases to diabetes?
In 1987, 1 week after the birth of our third child, our oldest daughter (then age 2) came into our bedroom in the middle of the night complaining of being thirsty. My wife, a registered nurse and constant worrywart, asked if she could have diabetes, but I reassured her that I had never heard of a child that young developing diabetes. (Of course, I hadn't seen a pediatric case in more than 15 years.) The next morning, my wife checked our daughter's diaper with a test tape and it was 4+ glucose.

She called me at the office in tears. A blood glucose reading of 650 mg/dl confirmed our worst fears. I was in shock and felt I must be in the middle of a bad dream. My perfect little girl had a disease whose terrible complications seemed to dominate my practice. Our group ran the Sutter Hospital dialysis unit, where half the patients had diabetes.

That afternoon, my wife, daughter, and I were in the office of the pediatric endocrinologist. My wife and I were tearful, and I still remember my daughter asking if we were sick. We started her on insulin at that time. We took her home and began our journey to learn and treat our daughter's disease.

We first took home the four glucose monitors available at that time and practiced until we found our favorite. I devoted all of my educational time to diabetes and went to every available conference that I could.

As a general internist, I thought I had a good understanding of the disease, but I soon found out I had a lot to learn. It reminded me of taking a foreign language course in college and then going to a country where that language is spoken and discovering how inadequate course work was compared to living the language. The details are important! Fortunately, my daughter went into a honeymoon period for 9 months requiring only one shot a day so we could learn the details when things became more challenging later on.

My work schedule was extremely hectic. On my on-call day, I would work all day and all night. On my other days, I would work all day in the office and would usually get several infectious disease consults requiring me to go to the hospital for several extra hours. I seldom got home before 8:00 p.m.

One day in 1988, I decided I needed to quit my infectious disease practice and wrote letters to all of my referral doctors. We had a large number of both new and old patients with diabetes in our group, and I naturally began to acquire more of them in my practice. One of my partners was an excellent endocrinologist, and I would try to learn as much as I could from him. However, the lessons learned at home while treating my daughter were more practical and many times more helpful to my patients.

When I moved to Olympia, I had an opportunity to start over and avoid some of the mistakes that had occurred in Sacramento. I was determined to do no more consulting and hoped to acquire a large panel of representative internal medicine patients. At the time I arrived, there was a shortage of internal medicine physicians. There had been three endocrinologists in Olympia for years, but shortly before I arrived two of them left practice. I became active in the local American Diabetes Association, and my wife became a nurse at the local summer camp for children with diabetes. I also gave lectures at diabetes education classes.

Before I knew it, I was swamped with new diabetes patients. One of the endocrinologists who left practice had contracted cancer, and I acquired most of his patients. Although I never met him, it seemed uncanny how similar our insulin regimens were. On early visits with his former patients, I would stress the value of frequent testing. I would teach them pattern recognition and how to prospectively manage their blood glucose levels. (During my early years, I once thought that people with diabetes could be managed with the perfect personal sliding scale. Now I realize that this is retrospective care leading to recurrent highs and lows.) After 6 months, the patients I had acquired from the endocrinologist had improved their HbA1c levels by an average of 1 point with only minor insulin adjustments. But they were all now checking their glucose levels at least 3 times a day.

My practice is now so busy it is hard to see new patients, and I have taken on a new associate who does general internal medicine. My next new patient opening is more than 4 months away. I will still try to work in new patients with diabetes as soon as possible, usually after hours.

I usually spend 60–90 minutes with new diabetes patients. Depending on the case, I will usually see them back frequently at first and then less often depending on their needs. When stable, they return to my office every 3 months.

I do most of the diabetes education myself, especially insulin starts. I believe that patients can only learn so much at one sitting, and I will have them back within a week to review how they have done and continue their education. Some patients are quick learners, and some are very slow. I bill the subsequent follow-ups as office visits. In almost all cases, I become the patient's primary care doctor. I emphasize the importance of tight control of blood pressure and lipids, as well as glucose control.

What has been the biggest breakthrough that you have seen in diabetes?
One of the biggest breakthroughs has been the advances in glucose monitoring. The new meters make it possible for almost everyone to self-monitor their blood glucose levels. In addition, the new human insulins and lispro have resulted in almost universal improvement in control.

Are you doing many diabetes clinical trials in your office?
My office has been a good site for diabetes studies. We did a study adding troglitazone (Rezulin) to sulfonylurea (Glynase) and had the largest enrollment in the country. Many of my patients 3 years out are still euglycemic. I am currently starting a monotherapy study comparing troglitazone to metformin (Glucophage). These two agents have made the treatment of type 2 diabetes much more successful and rewarding.

What do you find rewarding about treating patients with diabetes?
The treatment of diabetes has markedly improved for both type 1 and type 2 just in the last several years. When I was first in practice, half of patients with type 1 diabetes were dead within 20 years. Looking at my daughter, who was 2 when her disease was first diagnosed, these statistics were going through my head. The results of the Diabetes Control and Complications Trial and the United Kingdom Prospective Diabetes Study clearly demonstrated that controlling glucose levels to as near to normal as possible dramatically reduces the risk of diabetes-related complications. This has given me great encouragement that she will live a normal life. I share this wish for all my patients.

At this time, there is no severe penalty for doctors caring for patients with diabetes in Olympia. This was not true in Sacramento. Treatment for diabetes can be very expensive, but treating the complications is much more expensive. The trend of putting physicians at risk for the cost of care I find very frightening, especially when it comes to diabetes. Having less frequent monitoring, using older insulin schedules, and prescribing only sulfonyureas may save money in the short run, but these practices will hurt in the long haul.


Claresa Levetan, MD, is director of diabetes education at Medlantic Research Institute in Washington, D.C. She is an associate editor of Clinical Diabetes.


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Updated 7/99
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