Sunday, 16 June 2019

Close Encounters of the Dying Kind


It was Scarlett O’Hara, in Gone with the Wind, who said ‘Death, taxes and childbirth! There’s never a convenient time for any of them’. And death, dying and staying alive all featured in my thoughts last week. I think it was just one of those weeks. It started when I read of Emily Pringle, who was involved in a car accident and ruptured an artery in her neck. She was making a national awareness-raising appeal for more male blood donors to come forward. I didn’t realise, but twice as many women as men donate blood, and the number of male donations has fallen by nearly a third since 2014. What I also didn’t understand fully was that male blood is often more suitable for creating blood products such a plasma and platelets, and that men typically have higher iron levels than women. 

My second encounter was the reporting of two people who had died recently. The first was the remarkable Grace Jones (nicknamed Amazing Grace), who was Britain’s oldest person. Her death was confirmed last week after reaching the fabulous age of 112. She was reportedly fit and active right up the point of her death. The second report was of the death of Leonard Bailey, who died aged 76. He was a transplant surgeon, who became famous (or infamous depending on your view) for transplanting the heart of a baboon into a child dying of congenital hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Back in 1984, when he performed the baboon transplant operation, this condition was nearly always fatal. These days, although still a critical condition, much more can be done to help those born with this condition. Sadly, the patient who received the baboon heart only survived for a further 21 days. Dr Bailey performed the first successful heart transplant in a child the next year and went on to perform 375 more over his career as a doctor.  

Last week, like love, death felt as if it was all around us. And it probably was. Globally it’s estimated that 55 million people die each year, which is less than half the number of births. When this number is broken down, it reveals a staggering set of statistics: 151,600 people die each day, that’s 6,316 people each hour, or 105 people each minute, with nearly two people dying each second (1.80). In that very same second, there will also have been four births.

Where and when people die was something we considered at our monthly Quality and Safety Committee. Each month we look at our mortality data. There are two measures that we and all other NHS Trusts use: Summary Hospital-level Mortality Indicator (SHMI) and the Hospital Standardised Mortality Ratio (HSMR). Both of these measures look at the actual number of deaths of patients following hospitalisation and the number that would be expected to die based on average national mortality figures. SHMI data also includes those patients who die within 30 days of being discharged from hospital.  In England during 2018, there were some 9.2 million discharges from which 293,000 deaths were recorded either whilst the patient was in hospital or within 30 days of their discharge. 

While the actual number of deaths in hospital has steadily fallen in our Trust, 48% of all people who die in the borough, do so in hospital. This figure reflects the national average (of 46.9%) of all deaths occurring in hospital. However, in looking at the data, we found that the Trust has a higher proportion of deaths at the weekend of people who have very short admission (0-2 days) than the national average. The Trust operates a seven-day service, with access to the expertise and experience of the doctors and nurses being constant. Any lack of availability of expertise wouldn’t account for this statistic. So, the question we asked ourselves, was whether these patients were being sent into hospital to die?

There were certainly a significantly high number of weekend deaths for patients who were aged 75 and above, and whilst many had been admitted from their own home, there were a lot of patients who had been brought in from care homes. Work is going on to explore any variation in the level of community and primary care services during the weekend to ensure those patients requiring end of life care can have this provided at home. However, discussions with families has revealed that although most wanted their loved one to die at home, many were frightened at the prospect or didn’t live close enough to be with and support their loved one in their last few days and hours of their life. Thankfully, for many people they will only experience the death of another infrequently. For doctors and nurses, this is not the case. Death is part of the professional world they inhabit. I’m sure many nurse readers of this blog will have had to make that phone call to relatives advising them to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Death and dying are not easy subjects to talk about and I think all those involved in palliative and end of life care are truly special people.

I would like to end this posting on a lighter note. Last week I was an examiner in a PhD viva. The student’s work looked at the impact of acculturation (assimilation into the host country’s culture) on the mental health of refugees coming to live in the UK. It was an enjoyable viva and the student did very well in defending her thesis. It was even better to hear how her participants who had come to live in the UK, had gone on to build lives that showed their resilience, courage and humour. To quote the classic ‘Simple Minds’ song, they were truly alive and kicking! 

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