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Received April 18, 2001; revised June 17, 2001; accepted July 3, 2001. From the Department of Psychiatry, Harvard Medical School, and the Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, Massachusetts. Address correspondence to Dr. Powell, 3 Newsome Park, Jamaica Plain, MA 02130.
| ABSTRACTS |
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Key Words: Psychopharmacology Psychodynamic Psychotherapy
| INTRODUCTION |
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| THE LURE OF ACTION |
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Most people with psychological pain today are treated first with medications given by a primary care physician,4 and yet nearly half of medical outpatients who begin an antidepressant discontinue treatment within the first month.5 With the newest generation of psychiatric medications, dangerous side effects and lethality in overdose are at a new low and physicians prescribe more readily than ever. However, primary care professionals are called on to perform many different functions for patients, and they may not have the training or the time to examine the meaning of medication-giving and medication-taking. More and more, psychiatrists' practices are filled with patients who have not responded to this initial treatment and who expect an expertly and quickly delivered prescription.
Psychiatrists may play many different roles with patients: therapist-prescriber, separate psychopharmacologist, or nonmedicating psychotherapist. Psychiatrists in any of these positions may unwittingly use the act of prescribing to shift from a therapy role that is perceived as passive into a more directive, "doctorly" role, countering feelings of helplessness in the room. When treating a patient with severe difficulties, this role change can sneak up on the most seasoned psychodynamic therapist. When medication trials are ineffective, these patients are often labeled "treatment-resistant." They seem to be crying out for a full psychological assessment and an exploration of the meaning of taking medication, yet this step is often skipped in favor of yet another psychopharmacologic intervention.
In the psychopharmacology setting, the patient and therapist commonly convey feelings by speaking in "pharmacologese": bothersome side effects substitute for painful affects and defenses, or the need for refills or "prns" expresses the wish for more from the therapist. The shorter time typically allotted for psychopharmacology visits sends the message that the needs being served by medications do not deserve full exploration. Could an alternate explanation for "treatment resistance" or "noncompliance" be that these patients and their treaters suffer from an incomplete understanding of the idiosyncratic meaning of medication? By silently deferring all medication issues to other treatment team members, who may not be willing or able to explore these with the patient, therapists may find themselves in the midst of a split transference.
| SPLIT TRANSFERENCE |
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A similar phenomenon can occur even when the prescriber also conducts the psychotherapy. A patient and therapist may unconsciously agree on a deal that ensures certain feelings are to be dealt with by medication and others by therapy. The idea of medication may become a container for the negative transference that the patient feels the therapist cannot bear, or for the hope that is more easily invested in a pill than a person. When considering these powerful possibilities, it is perhaps no surprise that noncompliance with medication and other treatments has been reported to range from 25% to 75%.14 Mintz (personal communication, February 12, 2001) and colleagues at the Austen Riggs Hospital have examined the impact of the dual prescriber/therapist role versus a separate prescriber and therapist on the medication compliance of inpatients. These investigators retrospectively evaluated compliance by patients who had integrated treatment versus separate treatment and found that patients in an integrated treatment were, on average, 11% to 13% more compliant with their medication regimens.
Regardless of the structure of the treatment team, all treaters interested in helping the patient more fully understand him- or herself (separately from, but in addition to, helping the patient get better) may be surprised by the wealth of information available from inquiring about the medication life.
| INVITING THE MEDICATION EXPERIENCE INTO THE TREATMENT DIALOGUE |
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The therapist's countertransferential feelings about prescribing are often directly related to the patient's level of functioning and organization.15,16 Understanding who is prescribing (therapist-prescriber versus an outside prescriber), what is prescribed, when the prescription is offered or requested, and why (e.g., a reaction to an event in the therapy or a request from the patient) are all pieces of the therapeutic puzzle. These insights can be helpful in understanding and helping the patient, whether or not medication is ever actually prescribed or taken.
The busy psychopharmacologist or primary care physician may ask, "How can I possibly make time for this kind of history-taking?" Shifting the focus from the time spent during a single visit to the time devoted over the long run of a treatment course may help the physician remember that understanding the patient's medication life is often time-conserving, especially when the patient's feelings interfere with treatment compliance. Often, the patient's medication life lies just beneath the surface of other items we commonly cover during visits, such as treatment history. For instance, a patient with a background of adverse reactions to medications may be saying, in action rather than words, that she can't stand to take another pill. The physician may ask a simple question such as, "How do you really feel about taking this medication, anyway?" to open the door to a more direct discussion. Another small investment in time that can reap great benefits is to contact the patient's other providers during a visit, in the patient's presence. Although this may accomplish only an initial outreach at the moment of the call, it sends the message to the patient that you want to be informed about his entire treatment. The manner in which the patient responds to this effort to contact other treaters can also be a source of useful information. These are only a few examples of methods that, when employed over time, can help reveal the richness of the patient's medication life.
| USING THE MEDICATION LIFE TO IMPROVE THE WHOLE TREATMENT |
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Much of modern psychopharmacologic principle assumes that the person taking the pill is a static substrate of a medication's biochemical action. Perhaps in exploring the therapist's and the patient's feelings about pharmacologic treatment, changes can occur to that substrate to make medication interventions more likely to be successful. This seems especially true for the "treatment-resistant" patient, who has become sensitized to the topic of medication and his or her "failure" to respond. The temptation to the pharmacotherapist to prescribe in this situation is especially strong and may prevent a full exploration. The needs of both patient and therapist are often better served by a pause in the action to allow for a use of the transferential and countertransferential reactions to medication to further understand the patient. The patient may know more than we about why she should not, now or perhaps ever, use the pills. Details such as where one patient chooses to store her medications, or why another fears a specific constellation of side effects, may be clues to deeper meaning in that patient's internal life.
| CASE EXAMPLES |
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Ms. A. is an engaging 23-year-old recovering drug abuser with a history of childhood sexual abuse and a diagnosis of posttraumatic stress disorder and borderline personality features. During our initial psychopharmacology consultation, I inquired about her medication life when I noticed that she carried her medications on her person, in a bottle with a wad of cotton at the top. I heard how deeply mistrustful and hypervigilant this woman had learned to be from her harrowing childhood and subsequent years living on the streets. She reported that in the culture of the homeless, a pill-carrying person is assumed ill, and therefore less able to defend herself from attack or theft. Therefore, the sound of pills rattling in a bottle conveyed dangerous vulnerability to this woman, yet she felt a deep comfort from carrying them on her person and being reminded that relief and care were only a swallow away. She carefully maintained the cotton padding in her pill bottle to avoid giving herself away.Ms. A. developed a positive working alliance with her therapist and remained on a stable course of nefazodone for her anxiety symptoms. Six months after the beginning of treatment, Ms. A.'s therapist announced his plans to discontinue work at the clinic. Almost immediately upon hearing this news, Ms. A. began repetitively taking bottles full of prescription and over-the-counter medications, in parasuicidal gestures, and calmly informing a clinician almost immediately afterward. This maneuver, usually performed just before or after a session, infuriated her treaters to the boiling point; we all wished to fire her as a patient. The complex meaning of her medications became a crucial therapeutic point as Ms. A. drew the team into her experience: caring relationships eventually ended with either abusive neglect or violent rejection.
As her psychopharmacologist, I felt angry and helpless. The very medications I prescribed were simultaneously comforting to her and were being transformed into a weapon the patient used to hurt herself and her treatment relationships. We were in a bind, as I felt that to withhold the medications risked repeating the pattern of neglect in her life. If I continued to prescribe the medications, we would all feel abused by her swallowing them by the bottleful and would risk rejecting her.
We came to understand that Ms. A. desperately wished to rid herself of her dependency on the treatment team after the pain of losing her therapist, and yet she could not bring herself to leave the treatment on her own. By ingesting the contents of each bottle, she rejected and incorporated her treaters at the same time. Had the team enacted its wish to evict her from treatment, Ms. A. would have been lost and her deepest fears of rejection confirmed. Instead, we discovered a way to use the understanding that the patient was actually trying her best to avoid neglect and abuse at the hands of those whom she had trusted. This information served to soothe the treatment team, allowing us to remain a safe and therapeutic container for this woman's powerful affects and actions. Over time, the treatment team's calm was conveyed to the patient, who was then able, a month later, to stop acting out her painful feelings with the medications.
Mr. Z. is a 42-year-old man with recurrent major depressive disorder, the unemployed son of a mother whose success in the working world kept her busy and often away from the family throughout the patient's childhood. As his therapist was referring him to me for medication treatment, he warned me of Mr. Z.'s intense resistance to taking medication. His stance was based on fears that any medication would make him intolerably, irrevocably nauseated. The patient's previous medication trials were brief, limited by his experience of unacceptable side effects.Extensive exploration by his therapist revealed Mr. Z.'s formative experiences with being ill in his family, particularly how his occasional childhood vomiting was so repulsive to his mother as to warrant isolation and rejection for days thereafter. Mr. Z. felt this rejection by his mother to mean that he himself was full of badness and therefore unlovable. His previous experiences with taking medication had often led to nausea and the return of feeling himself to be overwhelmingly bad. He could not tolerate this state and usually stopped the medication before an adequate trial had been attained. He was loath to report the nausea to his previous prescribers for fear that he would be viewed as a disgusting complainer. In this way, he unwittingly reenacted his childhood experience of distance between himself and his caretaker (mother) when he was most in need of reassurance and care.
This crucial historical information enabled me to provide a more comprehensive treatment plan, which included frequent communication and close monitoring of side effects to counter the patient's fantasy that I would dismiss these concerns and, like his mother, withdraw from him. This plan reassured the patient, enabling him to tolerate a therapeutic trial of much-needed antidepressant medication despite episodic nausea. He became less depressed and anxious, and after 6 months of treatment he entered graduate school. He continues to struggle with the meaning of medication in his life, but now with words rather than the somatic symptoms that had interfered with treatments in the past.
These cases illustrate a mutual learning, which provides a rich avenue for exploration of the meaning of taking a pill. Without such dynamic understanding, these treatments were heading toward becoming a repetition of past disappointments for both patients.
| SUMMARY |
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| ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS |
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| REFERENCES |
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This article has been cited by other articles:
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N. Kontos, J. Querques, and O. Freudenreich The Problem of the Psychopharmacologist Acad Psychiatry, June 1, 2006; 30(3): 218 - 226. [Abstract] [Full Text] [PDF] |
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