What's your favourite medical myth?

“It was really hot in the office, Doctor, but it was freezing outside. I had to keep going in and out and now I’ve got the flu”.
As a general practitioner, this variable ambient temperature-induced respiratory virus hypothesis is probably the most common myth I hear from my patients.
A medical blog features other prevalent myths presented at the Pediatric Academic Societies’ Annual Meeting in Toronto this year.
While physicians routinely endorse the constant acquisition of new knowledge, the authors said, continuing education focuses on a quest to stay up-to-date with the latest medical breakthroughs.
“While striving to stay current, physicians seldom pause to examine the beliefs that they already hold as true”, they argued, outlining “Ten medical myths even doctors believe”.

1. People should drink at least eight glasses of water a day.
2. We only use ten percent of our brains.
3. Hair and fingernails continue to grow after death.
4. Reading in dim light ruins your eyesight.
5. Shaving hair causes it to grow back faster, darker, and coarser.
6. Eating turkey makes people especially drowsy.
7. Wireless devices create significant electromagnetic interference in hospitals.
8. Some physicians are black clouds.
9. Rectal temperature can be accurately estimated by adding 1degreeC to the axillary temperature.
10. Halloween candy tampering presents a significant health risk to children.

The authors concluded all of these beliefs ranged from unproven to untrue on the basis of expert consensus, extensive literature reviews or clinical trials.
I’d heard them all, with the exception of number six which just sounds plain crazy, and number eight which I don’t claim to understand.
And I’m particularly glad if the researchers are correct about number one because despite my best intentions my water intake is definitely suboptimal.
The blogger who brought the list to my attention, a US neonatologist, had a myth he’d like tested - whether or not eating sugar causes children to become 'hyper'.
What's your favourite medical myth?

Would you get into med school today?

Ever wonder how you’d fare getting into medicine these days?
Try this sample Australian Undergraduate Medical Admission Test (UMAT) question:

A woman reflects on the treatment of her husband, who has Alzheimer’s disease, in the emergency department.

“The job of the emergency team was to keep my husband alive. The problem: he was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s. It was time for him to die; his mind was gone, his body failing. He spent his days in diapers, spoon-fed, bed-bound. For 24 hours, despite my protestations and his carefully-written will, the doctors transfused him with pint after pint of blood. I have since forgiven them; they were only doing their job. They have one mission: to save lives. That my husband had Alzheimer’s was not their concern; that he was bleeding to death was”.

From the wife’s perspective, the emergency team was
A diligent but misguided
B negligent and incompetent
C sympathetic but indecisive
D competent and understanding

Which of the following would have most helped the wife in this situation?
A having the various medical procedures explained to her more fully
B being reassured that her husband was getting the best treatment available
C being given permission to leave the emergency room if she found it distressing
D feeling that her concerns were understood and appreciated by the medical staff

You get the idea, good questions, but part of me can’t help wondering how I would have performed when I was just 17. Or whether these are the sorts of issues you’re meant to learn to deal with and understand in medical school, rather than know at a tender age.
If you believe the Australian Council for Educational Research, the group that develops the UMAT, the expensive coaching that’s become almost de rigueur for candidates doesn’t help students do well at the tests.

On the other hand, the Australian Medical Student Association says the courses, costing up to $1700, threaten to undermine the integrity of admission tests for medical schools.

AMSA sounds so convinced coaching works that it has claimed the “exploitative” and “commercially-driven” programs raise questions of equity because they’re expensive and infrequently delivered in rural and remote areas.

My question to ACER is this. Do we have rigorous research that proves coaching doesn’t improve results? If so, can we see it?

(If you answered A and D, you are correct)

Just stick to the massage please

For me few experiences are as relaxing as a massage, or at least I thought so until last week. With an hour free before a stressful medical appointment, I’d booked a massage at a local Ella Bache shop.

Within seconds of my arrival, it went horribly wrong when the masseuse handed me a mostly medical form titled “Confidential Client Information”.
Some of the questions were entirely reasonable, for instance my name, address and phone number, and whether I had any “specific areas of pain”. I would have even been happy to state any conditions people massaging my body should be aware of.

But why she needed to know my occupation, let alone the name, address and phone number of my “physician” was beyond me, especially given I was not asked permission for my “physician” to be contacted, presuming I had only one.
It got worse.

“Please list any recent or past injuries or medical conditions, including surgery” the form asked above a small space, in other words “give me your entire medical and surgical history in thirty words or less”.

Then came a rag-bag list of symptoms and diagnoses, such as headaches, insomnia, epilepsy, diabetes, cancer, numbness, dizziness, fatigue and “cold/flu/fever”, asking if any “of the following are relevant to you”.
My entreaty for a massage sans paperwork fell on deaf ears in this “No form, no massage” environment. Exactly who made the rules wasn’t clear, nor whether anyone actually read the form closely or what actions would be taken if I had ticked one of the aforesaid boxes, for instance declaring that a cold was “relevant” to me.

My reluctance was obvious. “But what if you’ve had a stroke?” the masseuse asked, to her credit trying to maintain her composure while I progressively lost mine and left.

An hour later I’d had a massage 10 minutes longer and $10 cheaper at a Chinese establishment with no questions asked.

Friends have since suggested the paperwork is an insurance requirement, but if so, it merely prompts more questions.

Why do some massage outlets get away with asking lots of stupid questions while others ask none? How qualified are those asking the questions, and how does having the information protect their customers?

Would you get into med school today?

Ever wonder how you’d fare getting into medicine these days?
Try this sample Undergraduate Medical Admission Test (UMAT) question:

A woman reflects on the treatment of her husband, who has Alzheimer’s disease, in the emergency department.
“The job of the emergency team was to keep my husband alive. The problem: he was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s. It was time for him to die; his mind was gone, his body failing. He spent his days in diapers, spoon-fed, bed-bound. For 24 hours, despite my protestations and his carefully-written will, the doctors transfused him with pint after pint of blood. I have since forgiven them; they were only doing their job. They have one mission: to save lives. That my husband had Alzheimer’s was not their concern; that he was bleeding to death was”.

From the wife’s perspective, the emergency team was
A diligent but misguided
B negligent and incompetent
C sympathetic but indecisive
D competent and understanding

Which of the following would have most helped the wife in this situation?
A having the various medical procedures explained to her more fully
B being reassured that her husband was getting the best treatment available
C being given permission to leave the emergency room if she found it distressing
D feeling that her concerns were understood and appreciated by the medical staff

You get the idea, good questions, but part of me can’t help wondering how I would have performed when I was just 17. Or whether these are the sorts of issues you’re meant to learn to deal with and understand in medical school, rather than know at a tender age.
If you believe the Australian Council for Educational Research, the group that develops the UMAT, the expensive coaching that’s become almost de rigueur for candidates doesn’t help students do well at the tests.
On the other hand, the Australian Medical Student Association says the courses, costing up to $1700, threaten to undermine the integrity of admission tests for medical schools.
AMSA sounds so convinced coaching works that it has claimed the “exploitative” and “commercially-driven” programs raise questions of equity because they’re expensive and infrequently delivered in rural and remote areas.
My question to ACER is this. Do we have rigorous research that proves coaching doesn’t improve results? If so, can we see it?

Answers are A and D.