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174 JAMC • 27 JUILL. 1999; 161 (2) © 1999 Canadian Medical Association L ia Lee was three months old when the spirit first caught her. Her sis- ter slammed a door, and then Lia rolled her eyes and went into an epileptic fit. Her family had no doubt that the door- slamming provoked an evil spirit, a dab, to cause the fit, and that the fit made Lia special as well as ill. Lia’s parents took her to hospital. Born in Laos, Lia’s parents are Hmong, members of a once-remote Indochinese hill tribe with a distinct culture that, despite persecu- tion and repeated migrations, has been kept intact for more than 4000 years. Like most Hmong refugees in the United States, they neither spoke nor understood English. There were no in- terpreters at the hospital, and the fit was over by the time they arrived. Lia’s family is among the more than 10 000 Hmong who have settled in the unlikely town of Merced, a community of 61 000 in California’s Central Valley that boasts the Yosemite Dental Society Smile Contest and the Romp ’n Stom- pers Square Dance. The cultural mis- match is apparent in all aspects of their lives, not least with respect to medical care. Health care workers have found the Hmong problematic because of communication difficulties, their lack of compliance (that awful word for an even worse concept) in taking medica- tions and keeping follow-up appoint- ments, and their custom of being vis- ited in hospital by numerous wailing, chanting, gong-banging, chicken-sacri- ficing relatives. When Lia was examined her lungs were found to be congested, and she was sent home with a prescription for antibiotics. In the next three months she had at least 20 more fits, and she was still fitting the third time she was seen in hospital. On that occasion she was examined by Dr. Dan Murphy, a family practice resident who was inter- ested in Hmong culture. He did a full work-up, which meant that Lia’s par- ents had to consent to procedures they could not have understood. She was discharged with three prescriptions. Despite an “explanation” in sign lan- guage, her parents had no idea what the medicine was for, how much to give, or when. Lia’s mother, who had learned to write her name to satisfy what she viewed as a strange Amer- ican penchant for signing forms, had signed a piece of paper saying she would bring Lia for follow-up. Not having under- stood why she should bring Lia back, she didn’t. Thus began a trage- dy that reached Shakespearian proportions. During the next three years, Lia’s seizing grew far worse. She showed increasing signs of developmental delay. Tests showed that she was not being given her medica- tions. The two pediatricians in charge of the department, Peggy Philp and Neil Ernst, became increasingly desperate. They were, Fadiman writes, two of the most dedicated doctors you could find anywhere. Every time Lia was admitted, even at three o’clock in the morning, one of them would drive to the hospital to see her. They wanted to ensure that a language barrier would not stand in the way of Lia’s care. But the problem was not just that Lia’s parents did not un- derstand English or understand the doc- tors. The doctors did not understand their patient or her culture. In those three years Lia’s drug regi- men was changed 22 times. Lia’s par- ents found that many of the drugs made her worse, and when that hap- pened they discontinued them. The droves of social workers who visited their home were met with polite stone- walling. Most eventually went into burn-out. Philp and Ernst, con- vinced that Lia was sliding downhill be- cause she was not being given her medication, had her taken into care. Thus Lia’s parents discovered that in the land of the free doctors can take your children away. Lia continued to get worse. While she was in care, with a wonderful fam- ily who followed doctors’ orders to the letter, she still got worse. Meanwhile, social workers and newly- recruited translators worked hard to make the Lees understand the need for giving the drugs correctly. Nearly a year later, when the Lees were deemed ready, Lia was returned home. And still Culture collision The spirit catches you and you fall down: a Hmong child, her American doctors, and the collision of two cultures Anne Fadiman New York: Farrar Straus & Giroux, New York; 1998 348pp. $19.95 (paper) ISBN 0-374-52564-1 The Left Atrium A. M. Todkill Fred Sebastian

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Page 1: The Left Atrium - CMAJ

174 JAMC • 27 JUILL. 1999; 161 (2)

© 1999 Canadian Medical Association

Lia Lee was three months old whenthe spirit first caught her. Her sis-

ter slammed a door, and then Lia rolledher eyes and went into an epileptic fit.Her family had no doubt that the door-slamming provoked an evil spirit, a dab,to cause the fit, and that the fit madeLia special as well as ill. Lia’s parentstook her to hospital. Born in Laos, Lia’sparents are Hmong, members of aonce-remote Indochinese hill tribe witha distinct culture that, despite persecu-tion and repeated migrations, has beenkept intact for more than 4000 years.Like most Hmong refugees in theUnited States, they neither spoke norunderstood English. There were no in-terpreters at the hospital, and the fitwas over by the time they arrived.

Lia’s family is among the more than10 000 Hmong who have settled in theunlikely town of Merced, a communityof 61 000 in California’s Central Valleythat boasts the Yosemite Dental SocietySmile Contest and the Romp ’n Stom-pers Square Dance. The cultural mis-match is apparent in all aspects of theirlives, not least with respect to medicalcare. Health care workers have foundthe Hmong problematic because ofcommunication difficulties, their lack ofcompliance (that awful word for aneven worse concept) in taking medica-tions and keeping follow-up appoint-ments, and their custom of being vis-ited in hospital by numerous wailing,chanting, gong-banging, chicken-sacri-ficing relatives.

When Lia was examined her lungswere found to be congested, and shewas sent home with a prescription forantibiotics. In the next three monthsshe had at least 20 more fits, and she

was still fitting the third time she wasseen in hospital. On that occasion shewas examined by Dr. Dan Murphy, afamily practice resident who was inter-ested in Hmong culture. He did a fullwork-up, which meant that Lia’s par-ents had to consent to procedures theycould not have understood. She wasdischarged with three prescriptions.Despite an “explanation” in sign lan-guage, her parents had no idea what themedicine was for, how much to give, or when. Lia’smother, whohad learned towrite her nameto satisfy whatshe viewed as a strange Amer-ican penchantfor signingforms, hadsigned a pieceof paper sayingshe wouldbring Lia forfollow-up. Nothaving under-stood why sheshould bringLia back, shedidn’t. Thusbegan a trage-dy that reachedShakespearianproportions.

During thenext three years, Lia’s seizing grew farworse. She showed increasing signs ofdevelopmental delay. Tests showed thatshe was not being given her medica-tions. The two pediatricians in charge ofthe department, Peggy Philp and Neil

Ernst, became increasingly desperate.They were, Fadiman writes, two of themost dedicated doctors you could findanywhere. Every time Lia was admitted,even at three o’clock in the morning,one of them would drive to the hospitalto see her. They wanted to ensure that alanguage barrier would not stand in theway of Lia’s care. But the problem wasnot just that Lia’s parents did not un-derstand English or understand the doc-tors. The doctors did not understandtheir patient or her culture.

In those three years Lia’s drug regi-men was changed 22 times. Lia’s par-ents found that many of the drugsmade her worse, and when that hap-pened they discontinued them. Thedroves of social workers who visitedtheir home were met with polite stone-walling. Most eventually went into

burn-out. Philpand Ernst, con-vinced that Liawas slidingdownhill be-cause she wasnot being givenher medication,had her takeninto care. ThusLia’s parentsdiscovered thatin the land ofthe free doctorscan take yourchildren away.Lia continued to get worse.While she wasin care, with awonderful fam-ily who followeddoctors’ ordersto the letter, shestill got worse.

Meanwhile, social workers and newly-recruited translators worked hard tomake the Lees understand the need forgiving the drugs correctly. Nearly ayear later, when the Lees were deemedready, Lia was returned home. And still

Culture collisionThe spirit catches you and you fall down: a Hmong child, her American doctors, and the collision of two culturesAnne FadimanNew York: Farrar Straus & Giroux, New York; 1998348pp. $19.95 (paper) ISBN 0-374-52564-1

The Left AtriumA

.M. T

odki

ll

Fre

d S

ebas

tian

Page 2: The Left Atrium - CMAJ

The Left Atrium

CMAJ • JULY 27, 1999; 161 (2) 175

she got worse, even when tests showedthat she was receiving the proper dosesof medication.

Three months later, at a respite carecentre, Lia fell off a swing and wentinto the worst status epilepticus herdoctors had ever seen. No one knowswhether she was fitting because shefell, or whether she fell because she fit-ted. She developed a Pseudomonasaeruginosa bacteremia and sank into avegetative state. Her fits had stoppedforever. She was quadriplegic, inconti-nent and brain dead. The doctors senther home to die in the arms of heradoring family.

That was in 1986. Lia is still alive.

Her family removed the hated nasogas-tric tube when she was brought home,and so they no longer qualify for freeformula. Her doctors keep her suppliedwith free samples instead. Lia’s motherspoons formula down her throat and isadept at getting her to swallow it with-out gagging. She grows special herbsfor Lia. She has the shaman in, and sac-rifices pigs and chickens on auspiciousoccasions. She chews food in her ownmouth and then feeds it, like a motherbird, to Lia. Fadiman writes that shehas seen other children in persistentvegetative states in institutions. Theyhave pallid skin, are a bag of bones, andsmell faintly of urine. In contrast, Lia

looks beautiful and smells delicious.Read this book. It is superbly writ-

ten, utterly fair-minded, impeccably re-searched and has the pace of a literarynovel. Among the enthusiastic endorse-ments posted on the Amazon Web siteis the following comment by Dan Mur-phy: “Never have I felt so fairly treatedin defeat, and never have I felt so muchrespect for an author’s skilful distilla-tion of a tragically murky confrontationof cultures.”

Caroline Richmond

Caroline Richmond is a freelance writerliving in London, England.

Bathers in High Park Sanitarium, Toronto, Ont., July 26, 1914. The sign in the background advertises “Battle Creek Sanitar-ium methods in the treatment of Rheumatism, [?] Anemia, [word illegible], Diabetes, Goitre, Constipation and diseases ofthe Heart, Kidneys and Nervous System.” Founded by Adventists, the sanitarium at Battle Creek, Michigan, promoted hy-drotherapy, exercise and a vegetarian diet. In 1894 its chief physician, John Harvey Kellogg, and his brother William KeithKellogg invented corn flakes as a dietary substitute for bread.

John

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One thousand words