
By Marion Davis, Staff Writer
She was born in 1972, her back cut open by a spina
bifida lesion. He calls her “Faith,” perhaps because when her parents brought
her to him at the Johns Hopkins Child Neurology Program, and he told them what
she’d need to survive, faith guided their actions.
After consulting with their minister, they took her home, to let God decide.
Dr. John M. Freeman thought, based on British research, that if left untreated,
the girl would develop meningitis and die promptly. But three months later,
Faith was back, her lesion closed, but sick with meningitis. He sent her home,
convinced she couldn’t be saved.
But Faith lived. At four months, she returned, her meningitis gone, but her
head swollen from hydrocephalus – water in the brain, a common problem with spina bifida patients.
Freeman knew how terribly hydrocephalus could end, but this time, the parents
were with him. Clearly, they’d decided, God wanted Faith to live. They
proceeded with full treatment. At a lecture Wednesday at
Did he do the right thing with Faith, he asked? Was it right to let her parents
take her home like that, and then to work so aggressively to save her? What
would Faith say?
He’s never had the courage to go ask her, but he did ask two other former
patients, at a Christmas party in 1998, as he was preparing to write on ethics
and spina bifida. By then, folic acid had been shown
to prevent the birth defect, and ultrasounds could detect it in pregnant women,
many of whom then chose to have abortions.
The patients were now in their 20s, college graduates with jobs, but
wheelchair-bound and living with their parents, with no social life. When
Freeman asked for their input, they said, “Tell them we’d wish we’d never been
born.”
“I was dumbfounded,” Freeman said. He realized he’d been “arrogant,” he said,
too sure that he knew best, too “paternalistic.” After much pondering, he’s now
realized he doesn’t know the right answers. He’s been out of the
Freeman spoke at
Since then, his parents, Richard and Debra Siravo, have created a foundation to
raise funds for epilepsy research, education and camps and scholarships for
epileptic children. They also created a lectureship at
The title of Freeman’s lecture was “Paternalism to Humility: A Thirty-Year
Journey.” But while Freeman elicited knowing chuckles when he recalled the
“doctor knows best” view of the 1950s, he also expressed strong concerns about
more modern attitudes.
“I worry about the rise of patients’ rights and consumerism,” he said. The
shift toward patient autonomy since the 1960s – the notion that patients and
their families should decide, period – didn’t always result in the best
outcomes, he noted. “I’m glad that patient autonomy is changing into a dialogue
between physicians and the families.”
Freeman also expressed concern about the role of money in life-and-death
decisions – both on an individual level, and in the big picture. He cited a
highly controversial paper by then-Colorado Gov. Richard D. Lamm
that warned that technological advances “are exceeding our ability to afford
them,” and that the high cost of the most aggressive medical interventions came
at the expense of more basic care for other patients, and various other social
needs.
If, at one point, we do provide universal health care, Lamm
wrote, rationing will be necessary; the question will be what should be
rationed, and at what point in life.
Freeman said he doesn’t believe cost should be a factor in care decisions for
individual patients, but Lamm’s arguments do give him
pause, and he’s come to believe that there is a broader social responsibility
that should inform the health care system. The question is what society wants,
he said, and that’s not clear.
After half a century in medicine, Freeman said he’s come to value paternalism
again, coupled with compassion, and to favor some limits on patient autonomy.
But his paternalism has become “far less certain,” he added. More and more, he
doubts that he knows what’s right.
Still, Freeman wants doctors to keep seeking the answers. People have asked him
whether other pediatric neurologists ask the same ethical questions he does, he
said, and he replies, “I sure hope so.” In reality, however, “I don’t see my
colleagues talking about these issues.”
Published 10/29/2005
Issue 20-29