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Shared decision making: what do clinicians need to know and why should they bother?

To the Editor: The article by Hoffman and colleagues1 outlines the importance of fully involving people in decisions about their health care. There is an ethical imperative to ensure that both patients and the community obtain the best value possible from the resources that are used to provide health care. A low-technology intervention that can help meet the expectations for better value care should be warmly embraced. We now need to find practical ways to increase the use of shared decision making in routine practice.

As Hoffman et al note, this will require concerted effort across the system. Health professionals need the skills required to use shared decision-making approaches. Professionals and patients need high-quality decision aids that can help identify patient preferences where there are multiple options for treatment. And there is clearly a need for research that measures the uptake and effects of shared decision making in specific clinical areas.

In October 2014, the Australian Commission on Safety and Quality in Health Care sponsored visits by two international experts in shared decision making, to explore what we can learn from overseas experience in this area. Professors Richard Thomson (Newcastle University, United Kingdom) and Dawn Stacey (University of Ottawa, Canada) led workshops that aimed to identify cost-effective ways of ensuring that high-quality patient decision aids are accessible, available and used in Australia.

In the coming year, the Commission will be working with educational and consumer groups to develop content for an online risk communication training module for health professionals.

We will also be undertaking work to develop and promote patient decision aids in specific areas. Recently, the Commission led Australia’s contribution to a study by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development exploring inter- and intra-country variation for selected procedures (detailed Australian results can be found at http://www.safetyandquality.gov.au/publications/exploring-healthcare-variation-in-australia).

We are now building on this work to develop an Australian atlas of health care variation. The Commission will work with clinical and consumer groups to identify areas where there are substantial, potentially unwarranted areas of variation. It will also work to promote greater use of shared decision making in these areas, including the development of patient decision aids and training for health professionals in their use.

Shared decision making: what do clinicians need to know and why should they bother?

To the Editor: The ideas expressed by Hoffman and colleagues1 are laudable. In an ideal situation, shared care as described can offer benefits to patients and doctors in choosing patient-centred appropriate care.

However, for older patients with multiple morbidities and complex acute health care problems, the evidence to guide investigations and treatments is often lacking or not directly applicable. The basic knowledge of health care that patients need to possess in order to understand the risks and side effects of interventions — and even their knowledge about the natural history and processes of disease — is often absent or inadequate.2 Further, many older people have cognitive impairment that does not allow a sufficiently sophisticated assessment of risk and benefit.

In the clinical scenario provided in Hoffman et al, there was a single-system problem with good evidence. Even in this situation, I suspect that shared decision making would be challenging with a tired, distressed mother and a screaming child.

We should also be mindful that shared decision making should not result in doctors abdicating responsibility for making difficult decisions.3

Shared decision making: what do clinicians need to know and why should they bother?

In reply: We thank Picone and Levinson for their comments on our article. Levinson raises concerns about situations involving clinical decisions in which evidence is lacking (eg, for patients with complex multiple morbidities), urgent and emotional consultations, and management of patients with cognitive impairment. Certainly, such situations make clinical care encounters more difficult. We acknowledge that shared decision making may not always be possible, and that sometimes the process may need to extend to family or a health care proxy. Nor will it always be desired by every patient or for every health care decision. Nevertheless, it should at least be offered. When there are multiple morbidities, with each needing a decision, one approach is to address each in turn, dealing with interactions between them, as we do for other clinical modalities.

Decisions are not helped by being rushed. The use of decision support tools is not limited to within-consultation use — many can also be used before and after consultations, which can enable loved ones to be better involved. Research into less-traditional models of shared decision making and exploration of how it can involve teams of health professionals, family caregivers and older patients has begun to emerge,1 and this will help to inform future practice.

We disagree that shared decision making might result in “doctors abdicating responsibility for making difficult decisions”. This is one of the misperceptions that we address in our article. The shared decision-making process involves ensuring that the best information — and the consequences of each option — is clearly laid out for everyone involved (including the clinician).

Workplace aggression in clinical medical practice: associations with job satisfaction, life satisfaction and self-rated health

Workplace aggression is a prevalent phenomenon, particularly in health care work.1,2 In clinical medical practice, aggression prevalence rates of up to 75% for non-physical forms and 33% for physical forms in the previous 6, 12 or 24 months have been reported.3,4 In our earlier Australian research, workplace aggression was found to be most prevalent among the younger and primarily hospital-based non-specialists and specialists in training.4 Additionally, it was found to be associated with clinicians who have a greater external control orientation, work a greater number of and more unpredictable hours, feel they have a poor support network of other doctors like them, and consider most of their patients to have complex health and social problems and unrealistic expectations of how the clinician can help them.5

Few studies have investigated the likely consequences of workplace aggression for medical clinicians, mostly related to patient aggression.3 Clinicians who have been exposed to such aggression have reported experiencing feelings of vulnerability or inadequacy,6 diminished confidence or enthusiasm for treating patients,7,8 and lower job satisfaction and higher psychological stress9 than those not exposed. Aggression-related apprehension has been reported as resulting in general practitioners restricting patient access to services, including by raising consultation fees or refusing to take new patients, and through partial or complete withdrawal of after-hours services.10,11 There has been little research investigating the differential impact of aggression from internal sources (co-workers) as compared with external sources (patients, patients’ relatives or carers and others).

One approach to understanding the likely effects of workplace aggression on clinicians is to consider aggressive behaviour as the stressor, the immediate physiological and psychological reactions as the stress, and the medium- and longer-term consequences as the strain.12 From this perspective, exposure to workplace aggression increases role strains and, as a consequence, individual vulnerabilities to poorer health, wellbeing and functioning. In this study, therefore, we aimed to determine the extent to which workplace aggression from internal and external sources was associated with job satisfaction, health status and life satisfaction in a large sample of medical practitioners providing clinical services in Australia.

Methods

This exploratory, cross-sectional study of workplace aggression in Australian clinical medical practice was conducted in the third wave of the annual Medicine in Australia: Balancing Employment and Life (MABEL) longitudinal survey, between 1 March 2010 and 30 June 2011. As previously reported, 16 327 GPs and GP registrars, specialists, specialists in training and hospital non-specialists were surveyed in accordance with the MABEL study protocol.4,5,13 The sample comprised 12 068 contactable respondents from previous waves of the MABEL survey and 4259 clinicians new to, or re-entering, the Medical Directory of Australia by May 2010.5 Of the total sample, 9449 (57.9%) responded and indicated that they worked in clinical practice in Australia.4,5,13 Comprising 16% of the Australian clinical medical workforce, the profile of respondents was broadly representative of Australian clinical medical practitioners.4 The University of Melbourne Faculty of Business and Economics Human Ethics Advisory Group and the Monash University Standing Committee on Ethics in Research Involving Humans approved the conduct of the study.

Variables employed

The MABEL questionnaires were tailored for each of the four subpopulations (doctor types). Demographic and other profile variables included sex, age, international medical graduate (IMG) status, and location by state or territory and Australian Standard Geographical Classification (ASGC) of remoteness.14 Personal control orientation, “the extent to which one regards one’s life-chances as being under one’s own control in contrast to being fatalistically ruled”,15 was measured with a revalidated, four-item version of the Pearlin Mastery Scale, scored from 1 to 7 on a continuous scale, with higher scores indicating greater external control orientation.5

As we have previously described, workplace aggression was defined as:

Any workplace aggression directed toward you in the last 12 months while you were working in medicine (ie, any circumstance or location in which you performed your role as a medical practitioner), including:

verbal or written abuse, threats, intimidation or harassment — such as ridicule, abusive email, racism, bullying, contemptuous treatment and non-physical threats or intimidation; and

physical threats, intimidation, harassment or violence — such as a raised hand or object, unwanted touching, damage to property and sexual or other physical assault.4,5,13

Estimates of the frequency of verbal or written and physical aggression experienced from co-workers, patients, patients’ relatives or carers, and others external to the workplace in the previous 12 months were elicited with ordinal response scales, from “not at all” to “frequently (once or more each week)”, with most clinicians indicating that they had experienced aggression “infrequently (a few times in 12 months)” or “not at all”.4 The aggression prevalence variables were subsequently transformed into binary variables (0 = no, 1 = yes), indicating whether or not respondents had experienced any workplace aggression from internal sources (co-workers) or from external sources (patients, patients’ relatives or carers and others external to the workplace) in the previous 12 months.

Items relating to work hours, conditions and resources, and perceived patient population characteristics have previously been found to be associated with workplace aggression exposure in the previous 12 months.5 Respondents were asked to indicate the extent to which they agreed or disagreed with four work and patient items (“I have a poor support network of other doctors like me”, “It is difficult to take time off when I want to”, “My patients have unrealistic expectations about how I can help them” and “The majority of my patients have complex health and social problems”) on a five-point ordinal-response scale (0 = strongly disagree, 1 = disagree, 2 = neutral, 3 = agree, 4 = strongly agree). These were transformed into binary variables about the median to facilitate analysis and interpretation. Two items requested self-reported hours worked in the most recent usual week, excluding on-call work, and hours worked in the most recent usual week in 10 practice settings categories. These provided the basis for an imputed “total hours worked” variable and researcher-developed variables for total hours in the most recent usual week in “public and non-government organisation (NGO) sector work”, “private sector work”, and “residential and aged care sector work”. A small number of outliers reporting more than 120 hours worked per week were excluded from analyses.

The three outcome variables comprised measures of clinician wellbeing. Respondents were asked to respond to the question “All things considered, how satisfied are you with your life in general?” on a 10-point integer scale with bipolar anchor points (1 = “very dissatisfied”, 10 = “very satisfied”). Self-rated health status was measured by asking respondents “In general, would you say your health is: ‘excellent’ (0), ‘very good’ (1), ‘good’ (2), ‘fair’ (3) or ‘poor’ (4)?”, the scores of which were subsequently reverse-coded. Job satisfaction was measured with a variant of the 10-item short-form version of a 16-item job satisfaction scale,16 with each item comprising a 5-point scale (0 = very dissatisfied, 1 = moderately dissatisfied, 2 = not sure, 3 = moderately satisfied, 4 = very satisfied). The scale was revalidated in confirmatory factor analysis in the MABEL Wave 3 dataset, with the specification of a latent factor of intrinsic job satisfaction, comprising four items (χ2 = 1.78, 2 degrees of freedom, P = 0.41), as described in the Appendix. The three outcome variables were binarised around the mean for “intrinsic job satisfaction” (yes, > 3.1247; no, ≤ 3.1247; range, 0–4), and about the median for “satisfaction with life in general” (yes, 8–10; no, 1–7) and “self-rated health” (yes = “excellent”, no = “very good, good, fair or poor”).

Statistical analyses

Logistical regression modelling was performed for each of the variables of job satisfaction, life satisfaction and self-rated health to identify associations with internal and external workplace aggression exposure. Modelling was undertaken in univariate analyses (Model 1), adjusting for the profile variables only (Model 2) and additionally adjusting for the variables of work hours, conditions and resources, and patient characteristics (Model 3). All statistical analyses were conducted with Stata version 11.2 (StataCorp).

Results

Respondent profile data are summarised in Box 1. Respondent ages ranged from 23 to 91 years (n = 9345; mean, 46.4 years; 95% CI, 46.1–46.6 years). Mastery scores ranged from 1 to 7 (n = 9145; mean, 2.55; median, 2.17; interquartile range [IQR], 1.83–3.17). Binary predictor and outcome variable data are summarised in Box 2. Overall, 2503/9208 medical practitioners (27.2%) reported experiencing internal aggression at work, and 6168/9122 (67.6%) reported experiencing aggression from external sources in the previous 12 months.

Hours worked in the most recent usual week ranged from 0 to 120 hours (n = 9243; mean, 42.6 hours; 95% CI, 42.3–42.9 hours). Hours worked in public and NGO sector services ranged from 0 to 120 hours (n = 9126; mean, 20.9 hours; 95% CI, 20.4–21.3 hours), and in private sector services ranged from 0 to 110 hours (n = 9126; mean, 19.3 hours; 95% CI, 18.9–19.7 hours). Hours worked in residential and aged care sector services ranged from 0 to 58 hours in a somewhat skewed distribution (n = 9145; mean, 0.51 hours; median, 0).

In univariate analyses (Model 1), exposure to internal aggression was negatively associated with intrinsic job satisfaction (n = 8989; odds ratio [OR], 0.39; 95% CI, 0.36–0.43), satisfaction with life in general (n = 8963; OR, 0.49; 95% CI, 0.44–0.53) and self-rated health (n = 8988; OR, 0.79; 95% CI, 0.72–0.87). Exposure to external aggression was also negatively associated with intrinsic job satisfaction (n = 8909; OR, 0.47; 95% CI, 0.43–0.51), satisfaction with life in general (n = 8877; OR, 0.58; 95% CI, 0.52–0.63) and self-rated health (n = 8903; OR, 0.78; 95% CI, 0.71–0.85). In Model 2, adjusting for doctor type, sex, age, IMG status, mastery and ASGC of remoteness, internal aggression remained associated with intrinsic job satisfaction (n = 8593; OR, 0.52; 95% CI, 0.47–0.58), satisfaction with life in general (n = 8759; OR, 0.62; 95% CI, 0.56–0.69) and self-rated health (n = 8775; OR, 0.81; 95% CI, 0.73–0.91). In the final logistic regression analyses (Model 3), adjusting for the profile-, work- and patient-related variables, exposure to internal and external workplace aggression in the previous 12 months remained consistently negatively associated with intrinsic job satisfaction, satisfaction with life and self-rated health. Results for Model 3 are summarised in Box 3 (internal aggression) and Box 4 (external aggression).

Discussion

This study provides important evidence that workplace aggression from internal and external sources is likely to have a negative impact on the wellbeing of clinicians, even when accounting for the effects of a range of personal, work and patient factors. In relation to internal aggression, the results reflect those of research conducted in UK nurses17 and across professions.18 In contrast, external aggression has been associated only with lower job satisfaction in UK nurses.17 While the outcomes of this study highlight the potential risk of aggression from patients, their relatives or carers and other people outside the workplace to clinician wellbeing, the results point to an even greater likely impact of aggression from co-workers on intrinsic job satisfaction and life satisfaction, even when adjusting for all other factors.

There are several possible explanations for the relative strengths of these effects. First, co-worker aggression could be expected to have a greater negative impact because of the greater likelihood of repeated and ongoing exposure to an internal perpetrator, compared with an external perpetrator, and because they are, wholly or in part, organisational or professional insiders.18 Second, being targeted by those with whom one ostensibly shares the altruistic goals of providing the best possible care may be multiply distressing, particularly for younger and less experienced clinicians, who may not possess the skills or resources to effectively manage aggressive behaviour, especially from more experienced or more senior colleagues.5

In contrast, in relation to external aggression, even where ongoing contact with a perpetrator may occur, aggressive behaviour may, at least partially, be excused or understood in the context of the perpetrator’s medical condition or psychosocial circumstances, such as in relation to the perpetrator’s experience of cognitive impairment or arousal, frustration or distress. Additionally, as external aggression is a relatively common experience in medicine,4 it may be considered a “normal” feature of clinical work, unwelcome though it may be.1820 Further, because aggression from external sources is more visible, individuals and organisations may be better equipped to deal with it than with aggression from co-workers.17

Within the stressor–strain framework, individual coping mechanisms and a range of social, environmental and organisational supports may be more readily mobilised to respond to and moderate the impact of external aggression, compared with internal aggression. This may include, at least in some clinical practice contexts, perpetrators being referred to another clinician or service, or having their service access modified or restricted, such as within the framework of a tailored management plan, or having their service access withdrawn.10,11 Equivalent options are likely to be less available for the targets of internal aggression.

Although not investigated directly in our study, clinician exposure to workplace aggression may also present a risk to the quality and safety of patient care. There is some evidence of health worker experiences of aggression being associated with lower patient-rated quality of care,21 self-reported medical errors22 and diminished work productivity, efficiency and effectiveness.23,24 There is also some evidence of associations between workplace aggression exposure and decisions to reduce or terminate workforce participation,8,17,20 which may ultimately restrict community access to quality medical care. In totality, the extent to which workplace aggression may impact on individual clinicians and medical outcomes highlights the need to implement and evaluate strategies to more effectively prevent and minimise workplace aggression in clinical practice settings.13

There were several limitations to this study. Self-reported data were obtained from a cross-section of medical practitioners, which may have limited the reliability of some responses. Additionally, the attribution or direction of causality could not be determined. For example, reverse causality, whereby clinicians experiencing diminished wellbeing may be more likely to attribute the behaviours of others as aggressive or provoke aggressive responses from others, cannot be ruled out. Further, other factors not included in the modelling may also be associated with wellbeing, such as workplace characteristics. While a definition of workplace aggression was provided, survey responses were subject to clinicians’ perceptions of their experiences.

The strengths of this study are that data were drawn from a large sample of clinical practitioners in Australia, sampling biases were minimal and the profile of respondents was broadly representative of the national population. In relation to the survey instrument, the workplace aggression items were a small component of the MABEL questionnaires, limiting self-selection bias by those who had experienced aggression. In addition, aggression questionnaire items elicited estimates of exposure in an explicit frequency range, minimising recall bias and maximising response accuracy.25 All other questionnaire items represented perceptions or estimates of frequency.

Workplace aggression is a prevalent problem in clinical medical practice and the consequences may be considerable. It is a major professional and health workforce policy concern, in terms of occupational health and safety, and the potential impact on care quality, safety and access. The results of this research provide further evidence to support more concerted efforts to prevent and minimise workplace aggression, and its impact, in medical practice settings. Additionally, the results provide a baseline for further research on the consequences of workplace aggression in Australian clinical medical practice.

1 Respondent profile variables*

Variable

Frequency (%)


Doctor type

 

GPs and GP registrars

3515 (37.2%)

Specialists

3875 (41.0%)

Hospital non-specialists

1171 (12.4%)

Specialists in training

888 (9.4%)

Total

9449

Sex

 

Female

4040 (42.8%)

Total

9438

State or territory

 

ACT

177 (1.9%)

NSW

2550 (27.0%)

NT

102 (1.1%)

Qld

1707 (18.1%)

SA

748 (7.9%)

Tas

309 (3.3%)

Vic

2882 (30.5%)

WA

974 (10.3%)

Total

9449

ASGC of remoteness

 

Major city

7142 (76.0%)

Inner regional

1493 (15.9%)

Outer regional

542 (5.8%)

Remote and very remote

222 (2.4%)

Total

9399

International medical graduate

Yes

1878 (20.0%)

Total

9389


ACT = Australian Capital Territory. ASGC = Australian Standard Geographical Classification. GP = general practitioner. NSW = New South Wales. NT = Northern Territory. Qld = Queensland. SA = South Australia. Tas = Tasmania. Vic = Victoria. WA = Western Australia. * Subject to rounding error.

2 Binary predictor and outcome variables*

Variable

“Yes” outcome


Any internal aggression

2503/9208 (27.2%)

Any external aggression

6168/9122 (67.6%)

Poor support network

2114/9280 (22.8%)

Difficult to take time off

3846/9302 (41.3%)

Unrealistic patient expectations

2897/9185 (31.5%)

Complex patient problems

6146/9190 (66.9%)

Intrinsic job satisfaction§

4646/9125 (50.9%)

Satisfaction with life in general

5291/9170 (57.7%)

Self-rated health**

3385/9195 (36.8%)


* Subject to rounding error. † Yes = “infrequently”, “occasionally”, “often” or “frequently”; no = “not at all”. ‡ Yes = “agree” or “strongly agree”; no = “strongly disagree”, “disagree” or “neutral”. § Yes = “very satisfied”, > 3.2147; no = “not very satisfied”, ≤ 3.2147; range, 0–4. ¶ Yes = “very satisfied” (8–10); no = “not very satisfied” (1–7); range, 1–10. ** Yes = “excellent”; no = “very good”, “good”, “fair” or “poor”.

3 Logistic regression models of clinician wellbeing in relation to experiences of internal aggression (Model 3)

 

Intrinsic job satisfaction* (n = 7977)


Satisfaction with life in general (n = 8112)


Self-rated health (n = 8126)


Variables

OR

95% CI

OR

95% CI

OR

95% CI


Any internal aggression§

0.59

0.53–0.66

0.67

0.60–0.76

0.86**

0.77–0.96

Doctor type††

           

Specialists

1.50

1.31–1.72

1.16‡‡

1.00–1.34

1.44

1.26–1.65

Hospital non-specialists

0.58

0.46–0.73

1.08

0.86–1.35

1.06

0.85–1.31

Specialists in training

1.34‡‡

1.06–1.69

0.95

0.75–1.21

1.05

0.84–1.31

Sex§§

1.26

1.13–1.41

1.06

0.94–1.19

1.06

0.95–1.18

Age¶¶

1.02

1.02–1.03

1.01**

1.00–1.01

0.97

0.96–0.97

International medical graduates***

0.80

0.70–0.90

0.83**

0.73–0.95

0.88

0.78–1.00

Mastery (0, internal, to 7, external)¶¶

0.68

0.65–0.71

0.44

0.41–0.46

0.61

0.59–0.65

ASGC of remoteness†††

           

Inner regional

1.18‡‡

1.03–1.35

1.10

0.95–1.27

1.11

0.97–1.27

Outer regional

1.46**

1.18–1.82

0.96

0.77–1.20

1.06

0.86–1.31

Remote and very remote

1.29

0.93–1.80

0.95

0.67–1.35

0.83

0.59–1.15

Annual leave taken¶¶

1.02‡‡

1.00–1.04

1.05

1.03–1.07

1.03

1.02–1.05

Hours worked in usual week¶¶

1.00

0.99–1.01

0.99**

0.98–1.00

1.00

1.00–1.01

Hours worked, public and NGO sector services¶¶

0.99**

0.98–1.00

1.00

0.99–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.00

Hours worked, private sector services¶¶

1.00

0.99–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.01

Hours worked, residential and aged care sector services¶¶

1.01

0.98–1.03

1.01

0.98–1.03

1.00

0.97–1.02

Poor support network‡‡‡

0.58

0.51–0.65

0.67

0.59–0.76

0.81**

0.71–0.91

Difficult to take time off‡‡‡

0.70

0.63–0.78

0.71

0.63–0.79

0.83**

0.74–0.92

Unrealistic patient expectations‡‡‡

0.65

0.59–0.73

0.82**

0.73–0.92

0.99

0.89–1.10

Complex patient problems‡‡‡

0.92

0.83–1.03

0.89‡‡

0.79–1.00

0.89‡‡

0.80–0.98


ASGC = Australian Standard Geographical Classification. NGO = non-government organisation. OR = odds ratio. * > 3.1247 v ≤ 3.2147 (range 0–4). † 8–10 v 1–7 (range, 1–10; 1 = completely dissatisfied, 10 = completely satisfied). ‡ “Excellent” v “very good”, “good”, “fair” and “poor”. § Reference group — “not at all”. ¶ P < 0.001. ** P < 0.01. †† Reference group — “GPs and GP registrars”. ‡‡ P < 0.05. §§ Reference group — “male”. ¶¶ Continuous variable. *** Reference group — “Australian medical graduates”. ††† Reference group — “major city”. ‡‡‡ Reference group — “strongly disagree”, “disagree” and “neutral”.

4 Logistic regression models of clinician wellbeing in relation to experiences of external aggression (Model 3)

 

Intrinsic job satisfaction* (n = 7912)


Satisfaction with life in general (n = 8044)


Self-rated health (n = 8059)


Variables

OR

95% CI

OR

95% CI

OR

95% CI


Any external aggression§

0.75

0.67–0.84

0.87**

0.78–0.98

0.83

0.74–0.92

Doctor type††

           

Specialists

1.39

1.21–1.59

1.12

0.97–1.29

1.41

1.23–1.61

Hospital non-specialists

0.55

0.44–0.69

1.05

0.83–1.31

1.03

0.83–1.28

Specialists in training

1.25

0.99–1.57

0.92

0.73–1.17

1.02

0.81–1.28

Sex‡‡

1.23

1.10–1.38

1.04

0.93–1.17

1.06

0.95–1.18

Age§§

1.02

1.01–1.03

1.01¶¶

1.00–1.02

0.97

0.96–0.97

International medical graduate***

0.80¶¶

0.71–0.91

0.84¶¶

0.73–0.95

0.88**

0.78–1.00

Mastery (0, internal, to 7, external)§§

0.67

0.64–0.70

0.43

0.41–0.46

0.62

0.59–0.65

ASGC of remoteness†††

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inner regional

1.14

0.99–1.30

1.09

0.94–1.26

1.10

0.96–1.26

Outer regional

1.43¶¶

1.15–1.77

0.97

0.77–1.21

1.04

0.84–1.29

Remote and very remote

1.27

0.91–1.77

0.95

0.67–1.35

0.85

0.61–1.20

Annual leave taken§§

1.02

1.00–1.03

1.04

1.02–1.06

1.04

1.02–1.05

Hours worked in usual week§§

1.00

0.99–1.01

0.99¶¶

0.98–1.00

1.00

1.00–1.01

Hours worked public and NGO sector services§§

0.99¶¶

0.98–1.00

1.00

0.99–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.00

Hours worked private sector services§§

1.00

1.00–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.01

1.00

0.99–1.01

Hours worked, residential and aged care sector services§§

1.00

0.98–1.03

1.01

0.98–1.03

1.00

0.97–1.02

Poor support network‡‡‡

0.58

0.51–0.65

0.67

0.59–0.76

0.80¶¶

0.71–0.91

Difficult to take time off‡‡‡

0.69

0.62–0.77

0.71

0.63–0.79

0.84¶¶

0.75–0.93

Unrealistic patient expectations‡‡‡

0.68

0.61–0.76

0.82¶¶

0.73–0.92

0.99

0.89–1.11

Complex patient problems‡‡‡

0.94

0.84–1.05

0.89

0.80–1.00

0.91

0.82–1.01


ASGC = Australian Standard Geographical Classification. NGO = non-government organisation. OR = odds ratio. * > 3.1247 v ≤ 3.2147 (range, 0–4). † 8–10 v 1–7 (range, 1–10; 1 = “completely dissatisfied”, 10 = “completely satisfied”). ‡ “Excellent” v “very good”, “good”, “fair” or “poor”. § Reference group — “not at all”. ¶ P < 0.001. ** < 0.05. †† Reference group — “GPs and GP registrars”. ‡‡ Reference group — “male”. §§ Continuous variable. ¶¶ P < 0.01. *** Reference group — “Australian medical graduates”. ††† Reference group — “major city”. ‡‡‡ Reference group — “strongly disagree”, “disagree” and “neutral”.

A personal reflection on staff experiences after critical incidents

The effects of adverse iatrogenic events extend beyond patients and families to health care staff and organisations

Errors are common during the delivery of complex care in the Australian health care system.1 Adverse iatrogenic events (critical incidents) resulting in patient harm or death may be the most distressing for all involved. Many of these errors are preventable, but investments in programs to prevent health care-related adverse events have had varying success.2,3

After critical incidents occur, emphasis is rightly placed primarily on the immediate, interim and long-term care of the patient and family. At the same time, health care organisations must also manage the staff involved in the incident and ensure appropriate responses to reduce the risk of future events.

This is a personal account of how individual health care workers and organisations may respond, and then recover, after a devastating critical incident. Possible ideal responses after a critical incident and preventive workplace cultures are also considered.

Personal reflection

During my intensive care medicine training, I was involved in a team failure that resulted in the injury and subsequent death of a young family man due to a medical intervention. While I was not directly responsible, I was part of the team responsible for this lethal injury. My team members and I learned many profound and lasting lessons from that terrible day. A culmination of interhospital and intrahospital system problems and failures in team planning and communication contributed to this man’s death. Over subsequent years, these factors were explored and acted on at personal, departmental, hospital and coronial levels. I met the man’s family on the last day of the inquest. I promised them that I would incorporate what I had learned into my practice and share it with others to try to prevent similar tragedies. This short insight into my journey through the aftermath is part of that promise.

Immediately after the critical incident, I experienced many personal, emotional and professional challenges.4 When the patient subsequently died from his treatment injuries, these feelings were exacerbated by the knowledge of the devastating financial and social outcomes for his family. I believe my team members underwent similar experiences at different times after the event, before the inquest and beyond. Due to different shifts and roster rotations, ongoing clinical workload and our varied coping strategies, I did not have many opportunities to discuss these experiences with other members of the immediately involved team.

Sharing my experiences of the event and its aftermath with others in the hospital enabled me to make sense of the situation and to identify meaningful action for my own personal and professional recovery.5 Many of my experiences matched those described by Scott and colleagues in their six-stage adverse event recovery process: 1) chaos and accident response; 2) intrusive reflections phase; 3) restoration of personal integrity; 4) enduring the “inquisition”; 5) obtaining emotional first aid; and 6) moving on.6 My recovery began with the realisation that this must be a fully grasped, lifelong, patient-centred learning and quality improvement opportunity.

I felt many of the expected emotional responses, in fluctuating intensity, including self-critical thoughts, loneliness, shame, guilt, sleep disturbance, and profound and hurtful feelings of professional insecurity. I witnessed other staff members experiencing varying levels and periods of functional impairment in the workplace. I managed to avoid serious workplace difficulties7 by using institutional, peer and family supports — by seeking company, participating in open disclosure discussions and quality review sessions, and accessing mentors. As a result, I did not require professional treatment or sick leave.

I received feedback about my personal and professional performance by discussing, listening and reflecting during and in between these opportunities — often with solemnity, sheepishness, anger, frustration, trepidation, grief and dismay. I had periods of deep and painful reflection. I also had opportunities for open and non-judgemental discussion in both private and workplace settings with my own family and friends and with colleagues from different professions and disciplines. At the same time, ongoing risk management, quality improvement and medicolegal processes enabled further clarification of “what happened”. In retrospect, I am grateful for the structured processes that supported my psychological work in understanding the incident.

Others in my team had different needs, and some appeared to experience differing levels of support from the health care organisation. Many resorted to relying on the informal support of family, friends and peers when the structured organisational support did not meet their needs.

Organisational response

The organisational response to this critical incident was multifaceted and prolonged. Initially, within the first 24 hours, the staff involved completed written statements of their personal understanding of events. This was followed by a team debriefing led by senior staff. Meetings involving the wider departmental staff, mentors and administrators took place over the ensuing days, weeks and months, with later formal departmental presentations. Further recapping with the legal team around the inquest hearing was highly valuable.

The patient’s family were engaged in open disclosure processes from the time of the event. They were regularly informed of the patient’s progress before his death and the ongoing hospital responses. Departmental responses included a root-cause analysis to determine all contributory factors. “Human factors” were considered predominant reasons.

The departmental nursing and medical leaders and clinical governance and medicolegal teams conducted a detailed review and improvement of equipment, policies, guidelines, processes and procedures. Case presentations and reviews at quality and safety sessions and hospital grand rounds disseminated knowledge gained and lessons learned from the incident. Reports were also prepared for the insurers and medicolegal department. Staff orientation, induction and training processes were changed to include multidisciplinary crisis resource management, to improve the staff’s technical and non-technical skills.

My active and passive involvement in these processes, and associated formal and informal dialogue, assisted with my understanding of the event.

“Moving on” to future prevention

Emerging literature about the emotional and professional burdens carried by health care staff after critical incidents describes the patient and family as “first victims” and the staff involved as “second victims”.8 These terms seem pejorative, negative and unhelpful, yet I cannot find suitable alternatives. This terminology derives from the perceived gap between the support provided to staff by the employing health care organisation and the support that staff actually require, particularly when compared with the support (rightly) offered to the aggrieved patient and family.

A thematic analysis of interviews with Scandinavian multidisciplinary health care staff after adverse events explored their responses in detail.7 The range, depth and variability of emotional responses were confirmed, along with significant self-reported changes in professional performance and self-confidence. Variability in each individual’s post-event personal and professional needs was also noted. The authors recommended coordinated, structured, transparent and systematic organisational responses for patient and family support, coupled with personal and professional support for staff.

After this critical incident, my personal recovery continued through the interaction of individual and organisational responses. I pursued external learning to acquire the knowledge and skills required to prevent further such incidents in my own practice. As such, I do not believe I am a second victim. Rather, I am a member of a responsible team. We have learned and helped others by conceptually placing the bereaved family at the centre of our own recovery. This long and challenging process demonstrates the power and importance of patient-centred quality and safety initiatives. After critical incidents occur, structured immediate, interim and long-term care of patients, families and staff is needed to enable enlightened improvement. Health care staff may already be carrying a disproportionate and under-recognised mental health burden and may need more attention than is often given.5,9

Developing health care organisations to be high-reliability organisations (HROs) may help to reduce second-victim scenarios.1012 HROs are characterised by their ability to manage complex, time-pressured and demanding sociotechnical tasks while avoiding catastrophic failure. Their organisational performance is often matched by an ability to expand capacity in a crisis. This is achieved through planning for variability in human performance by accepting the possibility of failure. HROs have evolved multiple redundant preventive and adaptive systems that integrate safety, quality and workplace learning. Any error is reported and proactively examined, and prevention strategies are subsequently developed and integrated into the workplace systems. These active system responses are said to cause the “dynamic non-event” of critical incident prevention.10

However, even with the best preventive systems, critical incidents will still occur. After a critical incident, it is essential for health care staff to seek help for themselves, in addition to the support provided to the patient and family. Constructive and supportive incident responses for patients, families and staff must be activated and maintained over months to years. Lessons learned must be integrated into workplace systems. I implore readers to become proactive agents of personal and institutional change for building resilience and reliability, in honour of your patients. Remove the need for anyone to be labelled a second victim.

Cancer health inequality persists in regional and remote Australia

High-quality oncology care in rural Australia requires ongoing government commitment

One in two men and one in three women in Australia will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetime, with malignant disease accounting for 30% of all deaths.1 Over the past 30 years, cancer incidence has increased by 27%, during which time 5-year survival has improved from 47% to 66%.2

The cost of cancer care has increased rapidly with advances in early diagnosis, surgical techniques, systemic therapy and radiotherapy. However, despite malignancy contributing to over 30% of mortality, direct cancer health costs comprise only 7% of the health budget for chronic diseases.3

The scale of the rural cancer inequality

About a third of Australia’s population resides in regional and remote areas.4 For almost 20 years, the poorer cancer survival with increasing rurality has been well documented.5 Proponents of equitable cancer services for rural populations have included the Clinical Oncology Society of Australia and Cancer Council Australia, accompanied by prescient editorials in the MJA.6,7 Over the decade to 2010, the disparity in cancer outcomes between rural and urban patients remained unchanged with 7% higher mortality, equating to almost 9000 additional rural deaths during this period.8 The disparity was greatest with oesophageal cancer and melanoma (where tertiary care is essential to maximise cure), with no evident gap in breast cancer mortality rates.

Despite an improvement in national prostate cancer survival since the 1990s, those living in non-metropolitan areas continue to have 18%–32% poorer survival.9 In Queensland, rectal cancer mortality increases by 6% for every 100 km that patients reside from the closest radiotherapy centre. Early breast cancer patients in rural New South Wales are more likely to receive suboptimal curative therapies, with an 84% higher breast cancer mortality.10

Diagnostic delays are common with increasing rurality, due to an undersupply of medical practitioners in these areas. Early detection is also limited by fewer diagnostic facilities such as computed tomography scanning and tissue biopsy services, resulting in an increase in late presentations with de-novo metastatic disease.

Cancer outcomes are particularly poor for Indigenous patients living in regional and remote communities. Cancer is underreported in this group, and death rates are 45% higher than in the non-Indigenous population.11

In 2008, only 27 medical oncologists were located in rural locations, comprising 6% of the national medical oncologist workforce. A further six medical oncologists attended rural outreach clinics on a part-time basis.12

Recent progress

Significant progress has been achieved in recent years, particularly with the establishment of the regional cancer centre (RCC) initiative announced by the federal government in 2010. Twenty-six RCC projects received total funding of $694 million in capital works.13

Despite this funding, significant inequalities remain in access to specialist oncology services, especially in areas that are not recipients of RCC funding.

Novel approaches are being increasingly adopted in rural areas to improve both the efficiency and quality of cancer services including telehealth, shared care and surgical oncology networks.

The increasing adoption of telehealth has resulted in improved service provision and substantial cost saving, particularly for remote communities such as Mount Isa.14 Telehealth facilities also allow regional sites to link to tertiary metropolitan centres for multidisciplinary team discussion.11

Shared care is a common strategy in Canada, and is increasingly being adopted by Australian general practitioners with an interest in cancer therapy, who are integrated with prevention, screening, detection and treatment of cancer.11 This is particularly pertinent to remote communities, where the patients are geographically distant to the treating oncologist and are best managed by their primary care physician.

Cancer screening rates in rural Australia have improved in recent years. The trend for prostate-specific antigen screening between 1995 and 2009 has seen a significant improvement in the rural–urban rate ratio from 0.76 to 0.93.15 Further, the National Bowel Cancer Screening Program in South Australia has seen higher uptake in regional than metropolitan areas.16 However, screening rates remain poor among remote and Indigenous communities, especially for Pap testing, which accounts for substantially higher cervical cancer incidence and mortality in these groups.17

Cooperation between state or territory and federal governments is essential to ensure appropriate recurrent funding, which guarantees the long-term sustainability of RCCs.

The way forward

High-quality oncology care in rural Australia is a challenge that requires ongoing commitment from state, territory and federal governments. There is no clearly defined staffing profile for a rural oncology unit, and establishing this should be a significant priority. The Clinical Oncology Society of Australia has recommended a staffing and service mix for RCCs, including medical specialists, allied health staff, oncology pharmacists, care coordinators, data managers and clinical trials coordinators (https://www.cosa.org.au/media/1151/cosa_rr-workshop-2012_report_final.pdf). Implementing a national standard staffing profile is essential to deliver uniform care throughout rural areas.

Expanding telehealth hardware infrastructure and maintaining Medicare telehealth incentives will ensure the strength of this modality.

In order to assess the effectiveness of initiatives such as shared care, telehealth and care coordinators, data collection is essential. Data collection and management can be improved in rural areas through the adoption of electronic medical records and dedicated data managers to evaluate the success of programs. This will also allow cancer centres to measure the impact of novel pilot programs.

With the expansion of radiation oncology and chemotherapy services under the RCC initiative, many rural patients are no longer required to travel to metropolitan areas for cancer therapy. However, exceptions remain; for example, positron emission tomography scanning and specialised surgery such as cardiothoracic, pancreatic or oesophageal surgery. Further, many patients continue to travel substantial distances to RCCs and are eligible for state and territory government subsidies. State-based road travel subsidies for rural patients are as low as 16 cents per kilometre,18 which is significantly below the Australian Tax Office tax-deductible rate of 65 cents per business kilometre. The cost of attending regional or tertiary centres for cancer therapy continues to remain a barrier to improved cancer survival rates.

In conclusion, cancer survival outcomes remain poor in rural areas, especially for cancers requiring complex multidisciplinary care, such as oesophageal cancer. Significant progress has been achieved in recent years with the expansion of RCCs, but ongoing commitment is required at state, territory and federal levels to ensure equitable cancer care for all Australians, regardless of where they reside.

Use of advance directives by South Australians: results from the Health Omnibus Survey Spring 2012

Advance directives (ADs) have been championed as a remedy for providing evidence of the medical, financial, health care and lifestyle options a person would choose at a time when they may lack capacity for decision making.1 A review of the literature in this area found that these instruments can be useful, but are not widely used due to a variety of factors which inhibit their effectiveness.1,2 In Australia, barriers to effective completion of ADs include poor understanding and application of the different AD forms.2 There is a lack of actual published data on completion rates of specific types of ADs used in Australia.2 As primary care involves assessing individuals at increased risk of chronic diseases and hospital care, low rates of completion of ADs in particular age or other demographic groups may suggest the potential for AD completion initiatives led by general practitioners. This would, in turn, lead to better outcomes from a primary health care, patient management and family carer perspective.

The aim of this study was to determine the proportion of South Australians who have completed the medical, financial, health care or lifestyle ADs in South Australia and/or a will (an instrument often believed to be an AD2). Demographic variables associated with completion or non-completion of these instruments were also investigated.

Methods

Data were collected through the South Australian Health Omnibus Survey (HOS) from 5200 households selected for interview between 4 September and 12 December (spring) 2012. The HOS included a non-replacement sample of people aged 15 years or older. Participants in the spring 2012 survey had an age range of 15 to 97 years. Complete methods for the HOS have been described in detail elsewhere.3 In brief, a random stratified sampling technique was used, defined by a random starting point with 10 households sampled per collection district using a fixed-skip interval. Data were stratified by sex (male/female), age (18–24, 25–34, 35–44, 45–54, 55–64 and ≥ 65 years) and area of residence (metropolitan/rural/regional). In non-metropolitan locations, samples were self-weighting. A cluster size of 10 households was also used for each of the 130 collection districts. Data were weighted by the inverse of the individual’s probability of selection as well as by the response rate in metropolitan and country regions, then reweighted to benchmarks derived from the 2011 estimated resident population based on the 2011 Census, providing a demographic description of the population by age and sex.

All variables were weighted to better align each individual case with the distributions of age, sex and metropolitan or rural/regional location for the total population.

In this study, we report the findings from one survey question relating to the type of AD completed by respondents. Four legal ADs are recognised in SA — enduring power of attorney (EPA), enduring power of guardianship (EPG), medical power of attorney (MPA) and anticipatory direction.

To clarify the specific documents in question, an introductory statement about ADs in general and a brief definition of each AD was provided to participants at the interview stage (Appendix 1). We used the term “living will” instead of anticipatory direction in this introductory statement as the living will has had more consistent use in the literature and by the public.1,2 However, for the purposes of this report, we use anticipatory direction to mean any type of living will document rather than it being limited to medical decisions about end of life.

The study was approved by the Flinders University Social and Behavioural Research Ethics Committee (Project No. 5748).

Statistical analysis

Data were analysed using SPSS version 19 (IBM SPSS Statistics). All analyses were performed using weighted data, and only weighted results are reported unless otherwise specified. Univariate analysis of individual AD document completion with demographic information was performed using χ2 tests of association. A multivariate binary logistic regression was used to assess the independent associations between non-completion of any of the documents and demographic variables. All demographic variables were included in the multivariate model regardless of their statistical significance. Associations for which a two-tailed P value of < 0.05 were obtained were considered statistically significant.

Results

Frequency of document completion

From the 5063 households contacted, 3055 interviews were completed, representing a 60.3% response rate and a 64.4% participation rate (Appendix 2). Wills were the most commonly reported completed instruments (48%), even though they are not ADs. For the recognised legal ADs in SA, more respondents reported having completed the EPA (22%) than any of the health care-related documents — EPG (13%), MPA (11%), anticipatory direction (12%) (Appendix 3).

Individual document completion

Appendix 3 shows that there was an inverse association between rates of completion of individual documents and age across all documents, with those aged 65 years and older showing a much higher completion rate than those in the youngest age category of 15–24 years. People who were married or widowed were more likely to have completed the financial documents — EPA (29% married and 54% widowed) and a will (65% married and 81% widowed) — compared with those who had never married, or who had separated or divorced (EPA, 4% never married and 10% separated/divorced; will, 11% never married and 27% separated/divorced; < 0.001 for each). There was no difference between the sexes in completion rates of documents, or between metropolitan and rural/regional respondents, except for the EPA and will where the frequency of rural/regional respondent completion rates was slightly higher than that for metropolitan respondents (EPA, 26% rural/regional v 20% metropolitan; P = 0.002, and will, 53% rural v 47% metropolitan; P = 0.004). Those still studying at school or elsewhere had the lowest percentage of completion of documents compared with those with other education levels. Those in the “never worked, student, home duties” category had the lowest percentage compared with those earning an income (results not shown).

Non-completion of any documents

The Box shows the results of the multivariate binary logistic regression for the reported non-completion of any documents. Non-completion rates for any of the four types of AD documents were significantly and independently associated with age (P < 0.001), area of residence (P = 0.031), country of birth (P < 0.001), marital status (P < 0.001), education level (P = 0.003), occupation (P = 0.001) and annual income (P < 0.001).

Discussion

Our findings show for the first time that, although completion rates remain highest in the 65 years and older age group, there is still a significant proportion of older people not completing health care ADs. Older people may not be aware that these documents exist, may not accept their role and value, or may choose not to complete them. Some older people may assume or prefer that health professionals will initiate discussions around these documents at the appropriate time.5

It is interesting and encouraging that younger people (aged 45–64 years) seem to be completing ADs. GPs and other health care professionals are likely to have increasing and ongoing patient encounters with generational groups like the baby boomers (born 1946–1965) as they age. Providing an opportunity to discuss ADs with those aged 45 years and over can facilitate completion of ADs at a time when patients are in relatively good health, as well as build an understanding of factors that may influence health care decision making for them in the future.

While anyone aged over 18 years can complete an AD in SA, those aged 18 to 45 years are far less likely to complete these documents. Targeted health promotion in this group similar to the recent organ donation campaign could increase awareness and promote the benefits of completed ADs in the event of a health care crisis in the future.

The documents most often reported as completed by the general public were a will and, of the four formal ADs in SA, the EPA, a financial instrument, rather than the health care instruments EPG, MPA and anticipatory direction or living will. The relatively high completion rate of EPAs and wills indicates that taking care of our financial assets is an accepted responsibility for many in the community. This could provide a useful context for encouraging people to complete other life-planning documents when GPs are made aware of life-plan changes for a patient (eg, admission to residential aged care, retirement or travelling overseas or interstate). Being open to discussing ADs at this time may provide future benefits to patients, health care practitioners, and families if a future health care crisis occurs.

Given that rural and regional area of residence and non-married or non-working status were each associated with reduced odds of completing most ADs, GPs working in the country or in areas with a high proportion of non-married and non-working individuals might find it especially useful to promote the role of ADs and the value of identifying a trusted substitute decisionmaker to help with future decisions.

While our study has shown that rates of completion of ADs, especially health care and lifestyle ADs, continue to be low, the use of these documents by younger age groups is encouraging and indicates that broadening GP discussion of ADs to include younger age groups might be important in meeting patient goals of future care. Our findings also indicate that those in lower socioeconomic groups may be vulnerable to having their personal autonomy in health care decision making thwarted unless they are given targeted direction on ADs. Detail about the sociodemographic characteristics of those most likely not to have completed ADs provides a useful framework that could help GPs provide these groups with targeted health promotion using relevant community health services.

Analysis of data from the South Australian Health Omnibus Survey Spring 2012 showing the prevalence and independent odds of the 3055 respondents not completing any advance directive documents*

Demographic characteristic

No. not completing
documents

Percentage of total (95% CI)

Odds ratio (95% CI)

P


Age (years)

       

15–24

451

93% (90%–95%)

55.3 (31.3–97.7)

< 0.001

25–44

670

69% (66%–72%)

24.9 (17.3–36.1)

< 0.001

45–64

270

27% (24%–30%)

4.4 (3.2–6.3)

< 0.001

≥ 65

60

10% (8%–12%)

1.0

 

Area of residence

       

Metropolitan

1097

49% (47%–51%)

1.0

 

Rural/regional

354

43% (40%–47%)

0.8 (0.6–1.0)

0.031

Country of birth

       

Australia

1055

47% (44%–49%)

1.0

 

Other

396

50% (47%–54%)

2.0 (1.6–2.4)

< 0.001

Marital status

       

Married

483

31% (28%–33%)

1.0

 

De facto

225

68% (63%–73%)

2.8 (2.1–3.8)

< 0.001

Separated/divorced

109

42% (36%–48%)

1.8 (1.3–2.4)

0.001

Widowed

24

14% (9%–19%)

1 (0.6–1.7)

0.993

Never married

609

86% (83%–88%)

3.1 (2.3–4.2)

< 0.001

Education level

       

Left school in Year 12 or before

372

40% (37%–43%)

1.5 (1.1–1.9)

0.003

Still studying at school or elsewhere

277

85% (81%–89%)

1.2 (0.7–2.0)

0.574

Trade/apprenticeship, certificate/diploma

467

42% (39%–45%)

1.0

 

Bachelor degree or higher

335

49% (45%–53%)

1.5 (1.1–2.0)

0.005

Occupation

       

Professional

410

43% (40%–46%)

1.0

 

Clerical and sales

315

38% (35%–42%)

1.02 (0.0.8–1.3)

0.879

Blue collar

446

49% (46%–52%)

1.6 (1.3–2.2)

0.001

Never worked, student, home duties

146

69% (63%–76%)

2.2 (1.4–3.6)

0.001

Annual income

       

0–$40 000

210

36% (32%–40%)

1.2 (0.9–1.7)

0.208

$40 001–$80 000

294

51% (46%–55%)

1.0

 

≥ $80 001

397

42% (39%–45%)

0.6 (0.5–0.8)

< 0.001

Not stated

550

58% (55%–61%)

0.8 (0.6–1.1)

0.227


* Multivariate binary logistic regression analysis; numbers and percentages may not add to totals or 100% as data are weighted and rounded to whole decimals. † Australian and New Zealand Standard Classification of Occupations codes.4

Evaluation of legal capacity by doctors and lawyers: the need for collaborative assessment

Legal and medical professionals are increasingly being asked to assess the capacity of individuals to make wills (an individual’s testamentary capacity), enduring powers of attorney (EPAs) and advance health directives (AHDs), as well as other legal instruments. Australian society is ageing and consequently the number, as well as the complexity, of assessments being conducted is increasing.

A range of medical conditions may interfere with, or eliminate, a person’s legal capacity to execute a will, EPA or AHD. Collaboration between legal and medical professionals in the assessment process is therefore particularly important. Miscommunication and misunderstanding occur between legal and medical professionals about the roles and responsibilities of each when conducting such assessments — is it legal or medical capacity being assessed?1 — which can be exacerbated by inadequate professional education. Given that loss of legal capacity has significant consequences, assessment needs to be consistent and transparent. Currently, no nationally recognised system for this process exists in Australia.2 At the moment, there is an unsatisfactory, ad hoc implementation of various methods tailored to suit individual practitioners, be they legal or medical. This is legally, medically and ethically concerning.3

This article considers the challenges in assessing testamentary and decision-making capacity. While flexible assessment processes are clearly needed, there also needs to be consensus over clear and consistent principles and guidelines from which to begin. We suggest how a best-practice approach can be made. For the purposes of this article, mental capacity is the general ability to understand the purpose, aim, significance and consequences of entering into particular transactions; and legal capacity is a person’s ability to enter into such a transaction, or having a particular legally recognised status.

The current assessment environment

Advances in the medical understanding of the range of patterns of cognitive dysfunction in different types of dementia have made assessing testamentary capacity more complex.4 The growing need for assessments, and the anecdotally reported fear of litigation if assessments are not satisfactorily conducted, requires a re-evaluation of existing assessment paradigms.

The jurisdictional medley of state and territory legislative and common law provisions for substitute decision making also exacerbates an already challenging situation. This results in different provisions, either legislative and/or common law, applying in different jurisdictions throughout Australia. New South Wales,5 Queensland,6 Victoria7 and the federal government8 have all conducted reviews in the past 5 years. AHDs have also been the subject of recent interest.9,10 However, no review has suggested or developed national capacity assessment guidelines.

Addressing the challenges of capacity assessment

Legal professionals are not trained to assess the effect of medical conditions, such as different types of dementia, on legal capacity. Medical professionals are not trained to assess the notion of legal capacity. Despite the disconnect from each other as a result, the professions together possess the skills necessary to satisfactorily assess capacity. We offer some suggestions to address the challenges of capacity assessment.

General proposals for a collaborative process

Legal and medical professionals should know what is being assessed, how and by whom. To further this end, clear communication is fundamental.11 In addition, legal and medical professionals need more continuing professional education,12 conducted within and between the professions.

A lack of terminological clarity and communication has made unclear the proper assignment of roles to legal and medical professionals and has increased the lack of clarity of process. There has been discussion regarding the separation of capacity as a medical, and competency as a legal, construct; however, it is unlikely that such an attempted separation would have any practical effect.13 Nevertheless, definitional clarity is needed and clear labelling of terms should be given — for example, legal competency or capacity and medical competency or capacity.

Requesting a medical assessment of capacity

A legal professional should first carefully consider whether medical assessment is necessary, recognising that a decision to seek it could concede that capacity is an issue if a third party contests the validity of a testamentary or enduring document. Assessments can also be undertaken to anticipate future legal proceedings that may question the individual’s capacity.

Members of the legal profession should be responsible for providing to medical professionals situation-specific information about a person’s legal capacity to be assessed.14 The issue of obtaining consent from a person to assess their capacity when they potentially lack the capacity to do so is also of fundamental importance but is outside the scope of this article.

Assessment should consider the individual’s ability to understand, appreciate and communicate the reasons for his or her choices.15 Adequate assessment involves weighing the individual’s ability to receive, understand, retain and recall relevant information; select between options for a course of action; understand the reasons for a decision; apply any information received to the circumstances; evaluate the benefits and risks of the choice; communicate the choice; and then persevere with that choice, at least until the decision is acted on.16 This will take into account the individual’s specific circumstances, including any relevant medical factors, as well as social and cultural factors.17

A three-stage process of assessment

Ideally, there will be three stages of investigation. First, an initial assessment should be undertaken by a legal professional. Second, clinical assessment by a medical professional should be undertaken (if necessary). Third, there should be a final determination of whether the individual has legal capacity for the specific task in question.

In this process, it is fundamental to acknowledge that capacity is task- and time-specific in nature. Thought must also be given to the clinical models available for assessment and the benefits and disadvantages of the model(s) being considered, for example, the limitations of the Mini-Mental State Examination.18 It is also necessary to consider what has triggered questions about an individual’s capacity.19 Care must be taken to avoid setting the bar too high in assessing competency or legal capacity because there is a risk of finding people incompetent who actually do have the capacity necessary at law to undertake the specific task.

Consideration must also be given to who should assess capacity.20 A legal professional can proceed without medical input when there is no or little evidence of diminished legal capacity. If there are mild problems, but their magnitude is insufficient to conclude that the individual cannot make decisions commensurate with adequate legal capacity, the legal professional can proceed but should consider seeking a medical opinion. If there is more pronounced evidence of diminished capacity, the legal professional should proceed cautiously, consulting with an appropriate medical professional.19 Formal medical capacity assessment should be undertaken if the individual clearly lacks legal capacity.19

Requests for medical assessment of capacity

Whenever medical assessment is sought, the referral letter from the lawyer should contain information about the individual’s background, values and preferences, and reasons for contacting the lawyer; the legal capacity being assessed; and any known medical, social or environmental factors affecting capacity.19,20 Medical professionals should feel comfortable in refusing to assess capacity unless there is adequate information.20 The legal and medical professionals involved should discuss whether a written medical report is necessary, whether it would be useful, and what format it should take.19 Consent from the individual in question is imperative before any assessment can occur.20 The expense and disruption for an individual of seeking a medical assessment should also be considered.19

Information gathering by the lawyer or doctor, such as speaking to family members and friends, may also occur. Any circumstances discovered in this process that potentially affect the individual’s capacity,20 such as “stress, grief, depression, reversible medical conditions, hearing or vision loss, or educational, socio-economic, or cultural background”,19 also need to be considered and recorded in the assessment. Building trust with the individual, educating him or her about the process, accommodating any sensory (including hearing) impediments, and accommodating cultural and linguistic differences contribute importantly to a more accurate picture of that person’s capacity and should be taken into account.19,20 The recording of the assessment process is important, through extensive file notes and perhaps video recording.

While national Australian guidelines are lacking, there are invaluable resources, such as the NSW Attorney General’s Capacity Toolkit21 and the six-step capacity-assessment model.16 The handbooks prepared for lawyers,19 judges22 and psychologists18 by the American Bar Association Commission on Law and Aging and the American Psychological Association are also potentially useful. Similarly, the British Medical Association and the Law Society have produced a guide for legal and medical professionals.20

Assessing testamentary capacity

The existence of testamentary capacity is a legal decision. Contemporaneous determinations during the life of a testator (the person making a will) are preferable to retrospective assessments after the testator’s death, which are practically and evidentially problematic.

When assessing specific testamentary capacities, reference must be made to the principles established in the 1870 case of Banks v Goodfellow,23 which sets out that the testator should understand the nature and effect of making a will, have an appreciation of the people who are natural beneficiaries, and understand the obligation to provide for people who are dependent on him or her.20 The testator should realise the effects and consequences of the testamentary provision that he or she is making.20 However, an assessment should go further than merely regurgitating the elements established in Banks. Legal professionals have a responsibility to ensure that medical professionals have adequate information to be able to report on an assessment of an individual’s testamentary capacity. A medical professional should request further information if uncertain.

Assessing decision-making capacity

The legal tests for determining decision-making capacity differ from those for testamentary capacity, especially for EPAs, which require a higher standard. For EPAs, the concept of understanding should also include that the individual comprehends the powers to be given and can state or restrict those powers; the time at which the power given under the enduring document commences; that once the power comes into effect, the attorney will be able to use and have full authority over the powers given; that the individual may revoke the enduring power of attorney at any time, provided he or she is capable of doing so;24 and that an enduring power of attorney continues despite the individual losing capacity and being unable to oversee the attorney or revoke the power. There is currently no accepted clinical model to assess financial capacity.

Professional liability considerations

With testamentary and decision-making capacity assessment becoming more complex, it is possible that a practitioner’s liability and the assessment process itself may be subject to increasing scrutiny, as will any attendant ethical issues. Careful assessment protocols can assist in obviating questions of professional liability.19

Conclusion

There is an increasing acknowledgement of the need for, and movement towards, an interdisciplinary approach to assessing legal capacity in the context of wills, EPAs and AHDs. A focused education campaign among the medical and legal professions, as well as in the general community, will be necessary, and national systems need to be developed. In the absence of these, to satisfactorily assess testamentary and decision-making capacity, medical professionals must be aware of the relevant legal tests that require clearer understanding of the expectations each profession has of the other. It is only through an interdisciplinary approach that satisfactory assessments of capacity in testamentary and decision-making contexts will occur.

Honey, I shrunk the kids (but it was probably worth it)

Anxious parents can take some comfort from two recent reviews that explore the impact of inhaled corticosteroids on the growth of children with mild to moderate persistent asthma. The first, which included 25 trials with more than 8400 children, concluded that steroids reduce growth during the first year of treatment (by about half a centimetre). The reduction is less pronounced in subsequent years, and seems minor compared with the known benefits of these drugs for controlling asthma. The second review, which included data on 3400 children from 22 trials, found that lower doses of corticosteroids have less impact on growth, supporting the “minimal effective dose” approach (doi: 10.1002/14651858.CD009471.pub2; 10.1002/14651858.CD009878.pub2).

Of course, when it comes to obesity, shrinking is desirable. The recently updated review of surgery for weight loss in adults, which now includes 22 trials with 1800 participants, found that compared with no surgery, body mass index was six units lower 1 to 2 years after surgery. This finding extended to improvements in health-related quality of life and aspects of diabetes. The review highlights potentially important differences in surgical procedures; for example, three studies found that gastric bypass achieved greater weight loss than adjustable gastric bands. Given that most trials followed participants for only 1 or 2 years, the long-term effects of surgery remain unclear (doi: 10.1002/14651858.CD003641.pub4).

There’s no doubting the effects of topical antifungal treatments for tinea cruris and tinea corporis. A new review, which includes 129 trials involving over 18 000 participants, contains that all-too-rare phrase, “All of the treatments examined appeared to be effective”. Terbinafine and naftifine were found to be effective, with only mild and infrequent side effects. Similarly, other topical antifungal treatments, particularly azoles, were also effective, but the high or unclear risk of bias of many studies made it difficult to pick a clear winner (doi: 10.1002/14651858.CD009992.pub2).

With shiftwork and non-standard working hours becoming an increasingly common feature of modern life (to say nothing of parenting), what can we do to counteract sleepiness and sleep disturbances? A new review of pharmacological interventions included 15 small trials involving 700 shiftworkers. It found that melatonin increases sleep length (by about 25 minutes) compared with placebo but not sleep quality, and that both modafinil and armodafinil increased alertness and reduced sleepiness but were associated with adverse events, meaning that neither drug is approved for shiftworkers in Europe. And what of the familiar staple, caffeine? In one trial, caffeine reduced sleepiness during night shifts, when workers also napped before shifts. Nothing about whether the analysis was barista-adjusted (doi: 10.1002/14651858.CD009776.pub2).

For more on these and other reviews, check out the ever-growing Cochrane Library at www.thecochranelibrary.com.

New TGA warning label for use of NSAIDs in fluid-depleted children

To the Editor: Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) have been very widely used for many years in Australia and elsewhere, in both prescription and non-prescription settings.

Although their potential for gastrointestinal side effects is generally well understood within the community, the capacity for NSAIDs to cause renal damage, even after short-term use in susceptible individuals, is less well appreciated.

It has been well documented that the use of NSAIDs in those who are fluid-depleted, including their short-term use in otherwise healthy individuals, can lead to renal failure, albeit reversible.1,2

On 23 May this year, the Therapeutic Goods Administration updated its Medicines Advisory Statements on labels for non-prescription medicines. Included was a warning about paediatric products containing NSAIDs.3 The wording of the advisory statement is “Ask your doctor or pharmacist before use of the medicine in children suffering from dehydration through diarrhoea and/or vomiting”.

As the person who initiated the request to have this warning label added, my intention was to have this warning added to all non-prescription NSAID-containing products for both adults and children, because we know that people who are renally compromised for any reason are at risk of kidney damage from the use of NSAIDs. This, of course, includes those taking some antihypertensive medications containing a diuretic, the well known “triple whammy” effect.4,5

Nevertheless, I hope that the warning label on paediatric products containing NSAIDs will alert parents and carers to be vigilant if giving these medicines to children in their care, and to check with their doctor or pharmacist if the child is fluid-depleted from diarrhoea or vomiting.