Tuesday, May 21, 2019
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
What do we really want from health funding?
Even in this golden age of medical and surgical
wizardry and developing gene science, all wrapped and ribboned in IT, we owe
our health to things which won’t appear in budgets or election platforms in the
‘health’ category.
Although our relatively clean air, potable water, dependable
quality food supply, education and low levels of poverty matter intensely in
keeping us healthy, you will not find a line for them in the spreadsheets of
those seeking our vote – at least not in the section labelled ‘health’.
True, The Climate and Health Alliance has welcomed the recent commitment by the
federal ALP to a National Strategy on Climate, Health and Well-being, but this
is unusual and there’s many a slip ‘twixt strategy and action.
The recent federal budget reversed the perverse freeze on
rebates for general practice, thank goodness. But with the medical literature
revealing growing scepticism about ‘pay for performance’, more money into PIPs
seems odd. Medical research through the future fund fared well.
But more generally we are treated to the spectacle of
goodies falling out of Santa’s Christmas sack – a few hundred thousand for each
of two dozen clinics, scanners, screening programs, special allowances and
other items designed to be enjoyed even as the dollars are quickly consumed.
The days of big projects in health – like Medicare – the
equivalent of Snowy Mountains II, appear to be over, yet integrated care and
the new data technologies call for such responses.
With rising numbers of people needing care for multiple chronic
diseases, questions are being asked – not about the amount we spend on health
care, but about where the money is going, and whether we citizens are getting
value, in terms of quality of life, for our taxes.
There must be a limit to spending on health care or it could
swallow the entire budget. Both as individuals and as a nation, we have many
calls on our treasury, of which health care is just one. Other countries
roll spending on health and social welfare into one budget, and you can see
why. In the US, the Department of Health, Education and Welfare was formed in
1953 and operated until 1980.
But whatever the administrative architecture, spending on
health – public and individual – competes with defence, education, and many
other warranted demands of a civil society.
Given our specific interest in funding for health care, just
how crucial is money to good health care? Would more money improve life
expectancy? Would it improve quality of life?
International experience demonstrates that there is an upper
limit to the amount a country can spend on health care leading to improvements
in life expectancy. The US overspends wildly. If you imagine a graph that
plots expenditure against life expectancy, you will see that big gains occur in
health in poorer countries once they increase expenditure from low
levels. Little dollops, big gains. The assumption here is that, if
a country can afford to increase spending on health care, it will also have
invested in other features of prosperity, such as better food, clean water,
sanitation and immunisation.
But the graph does not continue upward for ever. A
limit is reached where increasing investment does not achieve further gains in
life expectancy.
While life expectancy is a robust proxy measure for health,
it does not measure quality of life, a health marker for which we have scant
data. But it is the best available globally so we use it. Comparisons of
life expectancy show that:
“in 1800 no country had a life
expectancy above 40 [Shakespeare was an ‘old man’ in his 40s when he wrote
Lear] In the UK life expectancy before 1800 was very low, but since then it has
increased drastically.
“In less than 200 years the UK
doubled life expectancy at birth, and similar remarkable improvements also took
place in other European countries during the same period.… People in some
sub-Saharan African countries still have a life expectancy of less than 50
years, compared to 80 years in countries such as Japan …
“A century ago life expectancy
in India and South Korea was as low as 23 years – and a century later, life
expectancy in India almost tripled, and in South Korea almost quadrupled.“
These gains in longevity run in parallel not only with
increasing prosperity, but with ever more years of age-related disability and
chronic illness. For relatively small investments huge dividends can be
reaped
In Australia, we have reached the top part of the graph
where greater expenditure in health care is not likely to increase life
expectancy. Our life expectancies are among the best in the world. This
is not to deny the value in the incredibly expensive therapies which can help treat
some patients with cancer and other precision targets, but they are exceptions.
There’s a billboard on a nearby church that asks, “What do
you really want?” This is a fair question to ask of our health
care system. As a society we can, and already do, spend more on health
care because of its value in achieving improved quality of life.
A desperate and expensively acquired few more days or weeks
of life, or a better life-long quality of life? The answer might well
guide our health investment differently. It may require quite different
budgetary commitments to the ones we usually make when we think of ‘funding
health’ Worth considering when Santa comes our way.
Published in he Medical Observer 16 April 2019 https://bit.ly/2GrF2GT
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
The cracking tale of two 'murders' by a bum that I know
I killed two chairs at Christmas. Not
intentionally and not the leaders of my two least favourite committees. Both
were made of wood.
The first murder occurred in a
playground in our neighbourhood where, with friends from our street, we were enjoying
a happy Christmas afternoon catch-up.
The chair was a wooden folder, in its
senior years, and gave up when I went to sit on it. Fortunately, my landing
strip was designed for falling children and with help I tottered to my feet,
none the worse for wear save for the sad loss of a slice of delicious pavlova I
had been cradling at the time of the crash.
The second chair murder occurred in
the sitting room of a holiday rental in January by the sea. I attempted to
stand up after watching too much wonderful tennis and the chair gave way, the
rear legs splaying with a puff of bamboo dry rot, tipping me on to the floor
and landing on the point of my right shoulder.
You can guess the rest; and now my
infra and supraspinatus muscles are resting, with their tendons snapped, with
nothing to do.
What to make of these ‘tragedies’?
First, they both happened extremely
quickly. One moment I was okay and within a nanosecond I was sprawled. I
suppose that is no surprise but, rather as with sudden cardiac death, the message
is with falls that unless you prevent them well ahead of the provocative
trigger, you have no hope.
Get rid of unsafe chairs, engineer
hotspots out of our roads, and encourage smokers to quit.
But second, I wondered what kind of prevention algorithm I would need to
avoid future chair murders. Should I check all wooden chairs that I encounter,
test their legs and if they are folding chairs make sure the mechanism is
clicking closed correctly? Rather boring and probably not practical.
And if I extended this principle to
things other than chairs, would I have time in the day to do things other than
all the preventive surveillance required?
Third, and a derivative of the second
point, these two falls made me stop and consider what we might call the
time-economics of prevention more generally.
I recall decades ago a conversation
with a single mother from western Sydney who told me just how scarce her time
was for anything beyond survival.
An early start to the day to get
children fed and to school, then to work a full day to pay bills, home in the
early evening to handle kids and household chores.
The attraction of takeaway food was
overwhelming and there was no time for exercise. By dinner she was exhausted.
Cigarettes provided comfort.
Time is at the heart of it all
Time — whether there is so
little of it you can’t prevent a fall or a crash or a heart attack, or enough
of it to satisfy so many competing demands on it — is a dimension of
prevention.
For both reasons — at times too
little, at times too heavy the competing demands — we should be sensitive
to this ‘social determinant’ of health in our communications and plans for
prevention.
It’s wise and humane not to ask
people to do what’s impossible.
Oh, and don’t be like me: keep
in mind the well-being of old chairs!
Professor Leeder is an emeritus professor of public health and community
medicine at the Menzies Centre for Health Policy and School of Public Health,
University of Sydney.
https://bit.ly/2tEjj7r
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
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