Medicine

In this summer's searing heat, Americans know they should protect their most vulnerable, the babies and the old. But there are millions of others also at risk: people who have chronic illnesses or use some popular prescription drugs.Conditions such as diabetes, kidney disease, asthma and cardiac problems interfere with the body's ability to stay cool. And certain medicines -- including some anti-depressants and heart drugs -- often make it more difficult to handle the heat.Many people leading active lives have been surprised to find they can't cope with the high temperatures.

NEWPORT BEACH, Calif. -- Frederick L. Will, my father, recently died here. He was, as used to be said, well-stricken in years, nearly 89 of them, and suffered many of the afflictions that often accumulate in very elderly bodies. He was, it is safe to say, not sorry when the Dark Angel tapped him on his shoulder and said it was time to go.In earlier ages, much was made of ars moriendi, the art of dying, of having "a good death." Nowadays, science often overwhelms that art. When death approaches the elderly on measured tread, they are apt to become tangled in the toils of modern medicine.

Stomach bothering you? It could be exposure to internal cold winds, or perhaps you're not wearing the right clothes.Pain in the bones and joints? Maybe you need to put your back in balance by showing more compassion toward the aged.Not exactly the kinds of diagnoses you get from your HMO. But they might be what you would hear from a Tibetan physician.This weekend in Washington, more than 1,200 Western medical professionals will get an intensive look at Tibet's long history of Buddhism-based medical practice.

Has your prescription been changed recently even though the old drug was working just fine? If so, you may be an unwitting victim of a war being waged in the pharmacy.Once upon a time, doctors prescribed medicine without interference. They tried to use their clinical experience and judgment to make the best decision for the patient.Nowadays, many doctors are finding that their choices are limited by the patient's insurance plan.For years, John took Zantac for severe heartburn brought on by a hiatal hernia.

At 93, Thomas Bourne Turner is almost as old as the 20th century, but he's certainly in a lot better shape.Dr. Turner is dean emeritus of the Johns Hopkins Medical School, a position so exalted in American medicine that it inspires awe in distinguished physicians not unlike the respect West Point generals command in old soldiers.Yet he is engagingly unaffected, unpretentious and egalitarian, qualities perhaps nurtured by his deep roots in Calvert County. He aspired only to be a country doctor when he left to study medicine.

GROZNY, Russia -- The international aid agencies at work in Chechnya cut their teeth on African disasters but are learning that a war against civilians in a country like Russia presents a different set of problems.The foreigners -- the International Red Cross, the Paris-based Medecins sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders), an English agency called Merlin -- are not in charge here. The Russians are.They are trying to set up relief operations in a country that has a highly structured -- if not always sophisticated -- medical system.

Everyone makes mistakes. The clerk at the store may give out the wrong change, or the post office may deliver your letter to the wrong address. And who hasn't gotten a wrong number on the telephone?Such errors are inconvenient or annoying. The mistakes people make in hospitals and drugstores, however, could be life-threatening. Unfortunately, they appear to be all too common.A new study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association reveals a high rate of adverse drug events in two of the country's finest hospitals.

TOKYO -- In the shadow of the pulsating neon lights of Akihabara, the humming, electrified part of Tokyo where Japan's most advanced gadgets are sold, the 17th-century-vintage Kinokuniya pharmacy sells old recipes of herbs and minerals and animal extracts.Japan, a society that reaches into the 21st century for so much of its needs, reaches back into an ancient culture to heal itself.Testimonials to the effectiveness of these medicines are not hard to find. Tomiko Yamaguchi, 72, said her shaking from Parkinson's disease had become so severe that she would be jarred awake during the middle of the night.

Drug company executives are crying the blues. Their industry has taken some heavy hits in recent weeks.The General Accounting Office compared drug prices in the United States and Great Britain and found that Americans are paying a lot more for the same medicine. Rep. Henry Waxman, D-Calif., complains that "the U.S. is substantially subsidizing low drug prices for the rest of the world."Congress also accuses the industry of not living up to its promise to keep drug prices in line with inflation.

Washington. -- President Clinton's drive to tame health-care costs must contend with a perverse statistical omen fresh out of the computers: The number of applicants for medical school reached an all-time high this year -- 42,625 individuals competing for 16,000 first-year slots. Five years ago, with the same number of openings available, only 26,000 applied for admission.Humanitarian values have always driven many young men and women to pursue medical careers. But the craving to do good would seem to be insufficient to account for a 64 percent surge in applicants in a mere five years.

Paul Schenker, a retired Baltimore surgeon who had been the oldest alumnus of the University of Maryland School of Medicine and City College, died Monday of heart failure at Sinai Hospital. He was 106. He was born in Baltimore, the son of Russian immigrants. His father was a tailor and his mother was a homemaker, and he was raised in the 1900 block of E. Pratt St. As a youngster, he sold newspapers on street corners. "He remembered selling newspapers the day the Titanic went down," said a daughter, Donna M. Shapiro of Pikesville.

Dr. Thaddeus Edmund "Thad" Prout, a retired endocrinologist and first chief of medicine at Greater Baltimore Medical Center whose work helped get several potentially dangerous drugs withdrawn from the market, died of dementia Dec. 3 at Copper Ridge nursing home in Sykesville. He was 83. "It was a very impressive career, his doctoring, teaching and leadership. You don't have to look far around GBMC to see the imprint of his work," Dr. Thomas F. Lansdale III, an internist and current chief of medicine at the Towson hospital, said yesterday.

School's out, and, for many parents, it's time to send the kids off to summer camp. About 10 million American children will head to camp in the coming weeks, according to the American Camp Association. Parents who are packing the swimsuits and hiking boots should also consider their child's health and safety. Whether it's day camp or sleep-away camp, in-state or out-of-state, it's important for parents to know the facility's safety and emergency policies, and to take precautions to keep kids healthy while away from home.

Dr. Lee Tannenbaum has opened an office in Bel Air to diagnose and treat addiction disorders. A specialist certified by the American Society of Addiction Medicine, he concentrates on the prevention, diagnosis and treatment of many forms of addiction, including those related to alcohol, nicotine, prescription painkillers and heroin. About 3,500 physicians nationwide are certified in addiction medicine, he said. "Addiction isn't a personal failing or voluntary behavior that can be easily controlled," Tannenbaum said.

My mum lives in New Zealand and would love to visit us, but she is petrified that her nitroglycerin heart medicine will set off the security alarm. Is there any way to reassure her? If her luggage is screened with a swab to detect explosives, residue from her nitroglycerin medicine might be detected. Nitrates in her medication are similar to those found in explosives. If she has her prescription and a note from her doctor with her, the Transportation Security Administration authorities shouldn't give her any grief.

One was a distinguished Army surgeon, destined to go down in history as the man who solved one of medicine's most baffling and vexing mysteries. The other, a lesser-known clinician who'd studied in Baltimore, was a fearless medical adventurer who placed his own life on the line in the search for a cure. Together, just more than a century ago, Walter Reed and James Carroll helped rid the world of the yellow fever menace - but not before surviving a personal relationship that veered from mutual respect to jealousy and distrust before their time together was through.

FOR DR. LULU Oguda, an African physician treating HIV/AIDS patients in Malawi, the choice between holding out for name-brand medicines or using generic imitators available at less than half the price is easy. "We are able to treat two or three people rather than one with every $500 to $600 we allocate for the program," she told a Senate subcommittee last week. What's more, she said, the generic combinations are easier to take - two pills a day instead of six - improving chances that none will be missed.

He rose early and worked late. He performed hundreds of autopsies and wrote a landmark medical textbook. At a time when medical students weren't even allowed near patients, he brought them into the hospital wards. It was there, at the bedside, that William Osler believed doctors should be: listening, examining, scribbling down notes. A hundred years after he practiced medicine, many physicians still consider him the greatest doctor of all time. They train in the system he set up, they follow his strategies in examining patients.

SINGAPORE - The International Medical Center that Johns Hopkins operates here in Ward 86 of National University Hospital is usually busy these days, with patients logging more than 750 visits a month. Still, four years after it opened, some people call up to make an appointment with Dr. Johns Hopkins himself - unaware that they've reached not a lone physician with a foreign name, but a clinic run by one of the world's most respected medical institutions. "Initially I think people [at Hopkins]

Chip Skowron had visions of happily practicing and teaching orthopedics after finishing the Yale School of Medicine with M.D. and Ph.D. degrees in 1998. Then, he met what he calls the "harsh" reality of being a doctor. It was during the long shifts of his hospital residency that Skowron learned it would mean managing mounting paperwork, worrying about rising malpractice premiums, being on call 24 hours a day and probably moving his family frequently as a teaching physician. He left medicine in 2001, joined hedge fund SAC Partners in New York, and has never looked back.