Tag Archives: me/cfs

The problem with causation

Chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) patients are making a name for themselves these days, and not in a good way. The current brouhaha over new studies that have been submitted, then held, then whatever else is going on is bringing out the worst in the XMRV cheerleaders. I recently wrote about compassion for patients who are not in a good place to think critically, but even my own compassion is stretched to the limit, and frequently breaks, when it comes to the screaming impatience and conspiracy theorizing that can be seen on sites like Phoenix Rising.

Some CFS patients, let’s say the extremists, expect XMRV to be a combined Messiah/Holy Grail/panacea for all their ills. As I’ve mentioned before, some are even taking antiretroviral medication already, something that is highly dangerous and is not currently recommended by any reputable physician. The problem stems from an overall difficulty I see in chronic illness communities: the correlation fallacy. Which is to say, “correlation does not imply causation.” This simply means that just because two things appear to be connected does not necessarily mean that they are.

CFS, like many chronic illnesses, is a concatenation of unpredictable symptoms. While it’s common for exertion to push patients into a crash, we might also stay in bed all day, and the next day be crashed for no apparent reason. (In this context I use “crash” like many patients, to mean an especially disabling flare-up of symptoms.) This is one of the most annoying aspects of the illness. Quite a while ago I described exactly that situation to my doctor, and asked why it happened, and his answer was this: “You have CFS.” Right. That’s the way it goes.

In addition, like myself, many people with CFS have other conditions that either exacerbate our symptoms or result in fun new ones. So, although I must reiterate that there are specific criteria (well, half a dozen sets of criteria, but that’s another story) for diagnosing CFS from symptoms, most if not all of us experience symptom weirdness and ups and downs without rhyme or reason.

And yet, patients happily share stories of great success with dubious or even flat-out quack treatments. “I started using this herb, and the next day I started feeling better!” someone will chirp. Despite the fact that the selfsame person may recently have been bemoaning the capricious nature of our illness and how it’s so hard to make plans when you never know how you’re going to feel (true), now it’s become perfectly clear that taking this herb caused an upswing.

“Correlation does not imply causation” is one of the clarion calls of the critical thinker and the evidence-based physician. And yet these false correlations happen all the time. As you know, I try to come from a place of understanding, but the cognitive dissonance displayed in the above example really blows right past me. Whether it’s low-dose naltrexone (LDN), CoQ10, or even conventional pharmaceuticals, it’s usually pretty difficult to determine (and especially not in the space of a couple of days) whether any one treatment caused a major improvement. And that’s not even taking into account the placebo effect.

I don’t begrudge people feeling better. Nor do I discount the placebo effect for people who cannot get relief any other way. But what sometimes happens next is that other people who have had similar experiences will post about it as well. And then the other major fallacy found in chronic illness communities arises, where patient anecdotes are mistaken for hard data. Mostly, this isn’t too big of a deal. After all, science has so far failed us, so we do turn to others to find out what has helped them, and possibly try it ourselves. As I’ve said many times, I’m not entirely against this. The problem happens when people come to consider this information to be as valid as evidence-based medicine. Communities are wonderful for commiserating and sharing stories, but relying on these stories as a source of scientific data is dangerous.

Especially when it comes to XMRV. I’ve seen people deciding that everyone on a FB page or a forum should get tested for XMRV “and then we’ll have more results.” No. Those are still anecdotes, and given that the evidence-based studies can barely get it together on how to select a patient cohort and all the other complicated issues with testing CFS patients (such as severity of disease, which isn’t always taken into account), it’s ridiculous to imagine that half a dozen tests on people from all over the country or the world will contribute to a scientific body of evidence.

Finally, something I see missing from an enormous amount of XMRV discussion is the fact that even if it is shown to have a strong correlation with CFS, that does not imply causation. There isn’t even solid evidence of a correlation yet and people are jumping all over causation, with the antiretrovirals, rushing out to get expensive and useless tests, worrying themselves to death over whether they’ve spread the illness to others, and so forth. It’s perfectly likely that even if a correlation is found, the retrovirus may simply be a dormant infection to which people with CFS are especially susceptible. Or any number of other possibilities besides XMRV being a causative agent. I wish I were seeing less anxiety and more patience.

I get that some of the hoopla doesn’t even really have to do with medicine. It has to do with perception. The notion that a virus causes CFS is enormously attractive to patients who have been dismissed, invalidated, and marginalized for years. Proof of a somatic cause would mean even more than a cure — it would mean no more people trying to, say, cure CFS with neurolinguistic programming (NLP), as a fellow patient related to me the other day. The hope for that may be even stronger than the hope for a cure.

But again, hope, belief, fear…these do not aid in the calm assessment of the scientific process or of the data it (eventually) provides. Patients are falling back on emotion when they should be hanging on to rationality. No, it’s not fun. It’s easier and more comfortable to get together with other patients and howl instead of making the effort to think things through with a clear head. But that effort is absolutely crucial, especially considering the very negative views on our community that are starting to develop due to a visible and vocal segment of it. We’ve spent all this time trying to get attention, and now that we have it, we’re being seen by outsiders as a bunch of hysterical loonies. This is why I continue to plead for rationality and critical thinking in the CFS community.

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Bitten and shy

There is an ongoing war, as well there should be, waged by the proponents of medical science against those who reject, demonize, deny or misuse it. The war takes place on many fronts and on many levels, and some successes include the continuing downfall of Andrew Wakefield and the pronouncement by the British Medical Association that homeopathy is “witchcraft.”

Skeptics generally don’t have much use for people who have rejected medical science, or “allopathy” as some of those people would have it. (A term, by the way, invented by the guy who made up homeopathy.) Such people are usually characterized as, variously or in combination, stupid, ignorant, denialist, uneducated, brainwashed, crazy, deluded, superstitious, and even dangerous, to themselves or others.

And some of them are. The homeopath who killed his daughter by refusing actual medical treatment for her eczema is dangerous and possibly crazy. Religious objectors to blood transfusions and chemotherapy are superstitious. The scared parents of autistic children who throw in their lot with the anti-vaccination movement are poorly educated on the topic of vaccines. And then there’s people like the Health Ranger and J.B. Handley and so on, people who I won’t dignify with a link, but to whom I am happy to apply some if not all of the above epithets — and worse.

But there’s a certain population that I believe deserves greater compassion and understanding. People with long-term, incurable chronic illnesses may often come to reject science-based medicine because they themselves have come to actual harm from it, and sometimes repeatedly. I’m not talking about hypochondria or persecution complexes. I’m talking about people who have undergone actual trauma, mental or physical, at the hands of medical doctors. For example, this link is not from the most reliable site, but the incidents related are far from unheard of in the ME/CFS community — misdiagnoses, harmful biases, lack of understanding about the illness, and worse.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not giving anyone a pass. I went through a hellish time when I was diagnosed with Graves’ and the incompetent idiot of an endocrinologist overdosed me so heavily on anti-thyroid medication, it took a year for me to recover from being seriously hypothyroid, during which time several other problems arose that have left me disabled. After that it took uninterested doctor after uninterested doctor before I found one who not only gave a crap that I was no longer able to function, but even cared enough to treat me! Oh yes, I was bitter. But rejecting science altogether because of your bad experiences is like never reading a book again because you thought Twilight was a piece of excrement. All of this taught me how to better evaluate doctors, and since then my experiences with physicians have improved greatly.

So this is not an apologia, but rather a plea for understanding. The people I’m talking about haven’t simply slipped into a life of hippy-dippy naturopathy due to the toxins in the air and the mercury in vaccines. They have been physically injured, had their illnesses worsened, been humiliated and brushed off and laughed at and completely invalidated by physicians, all the while struggling to cope with being sick or disabled. Not only has science “failed” these patients (as they see it) by not having provided a cure or even a treatment for some of those illnesses, but its individual representatives have personally failed them as well. These people don’t just imagine they’ve been done wrong by science, like the antivaxxers — they legitimately have been, just as my being overmedicated and spending months in “hypo hell” were not figments of my imagination.

If you put yourself into that position, I don’t think it’s too hard to see why someone might eventually give up on science, especially someone who has undergone years if not decades of these problems. Maybe they turn to homeopaths and naturopaths, who of course profess deep caring and understanding because they literally have nothing else to offer…but it’s attractive to patients who have been routinely dismissed by “allopaths.” Or maybe they glom on to what looks like science — such as a single, as yet unreplicated XMRV study — but refuse to let the actual scientific process take place before canonizing its researcher and creating a cult of personality, not of logic or evidence. Neither situation is positive and, again, I am not excusing people on the basis of what they’ve gone through. It is very hard to hang on to one’s critical thinking in these situations, but that doesn’t make it okay to give in to paranoia and superstition.

From a page titled "Nazi Connections to Allopathy." Seriously.

When it comes to winning back the minds of patients who have retreated from science as a reaction to their experiences, perhaps skeptics need to take a different tack. Some people go down the rabbit hole and never come back, of course. (And I always wonder about those anti-science converts and what’s going to happen on the day that science produces a cure or treatment for their illness, the one that homeopathy will never come up with. Will they reject it on principle? Unlikely.) I’m not talking about them, because why fight a battle you can’t win? But I truly believe skeptics need to stop lumping all these “denialists” into the same camp. Promoters of science-based medicine will occasionally throw a bone in the direction of “feeling sympathy for these people but…“, a statement unlikely to reach someone who has heard this line zillions of times. True compassion, however, just might.

We skeptics constantly exhort people to stay open-minded and thoughtful about these subjects, but the same onus is upon us. Assumptions about the reasons and motivations behind people’s rejection of medical science do nobody any good. Sick, exhausted, cognitively impaired patients do not deserve to be tarred with the same brush as those who actively seek the defamation and destruction of medical scientists. To people for whom there is no medicine other than Western scientific medicine, any rejection of that may seem intolerable, no matter what the reason. But the reason truly matters, because when you ignore that, you may be ignoring someone you could help, if only you hadn’t written them off like they’ve been written off so many times before.

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A delicious friend is me!

Although I adore games like Mass Effect and Bioshock, being disabled by chronic illness means I’m not always able to handle, physically or mentally, real-time combat and tasks requiring hand-eye coordination. For those times when my brain wants to play something but my body wants me to curl up and not pick my head up off the pillow, I’ve become a great fan of turn-based games played in a web browser.

One of the best known, and one I’ve written about before, is Kingdom of Loathing (KoL). You are given a base 40 turns a day, which can be increased to hundreds depending on the food, drink, equipment, and other items you use. While there is a daily limit of 200 turns you can store up (in other words, you can’t stop playing for a couple of months and come back to thousands of turns), there is no limit to how much time you can spend playing all the turns you’ve generated. Other games, such as the delightful Paradox! The Musical (not an entirely disinterested plug), Metroplexity, and Game! hew pretty closely to KoL’s model of turn generation.

As much as I enjoy the intricate puzzles and engaging writing of the above titles, they can prove a roadblock to chronically ill gamers who may be especially limited by cognitive dysfunction, or are unable to read a lot or spend too much time on the computer. Echo Bazaar, by Failbetter Games, manages to create a remarkably vivid and intriguing world while keeping gameplay simple, and effectively forcing a casual approach.

Echo Bazaar takes place in Fallen London, which is what became of Victorian London when it was mysteriously carried away, down a mile beneath the surface. Inhabitants are defined by four character traits — Dangerous, Watchful, Persuasive, and Shadowy — and these traits, along with myriad other story-related characteristics (such as Hedonist or Ruthless), contacts (such as Bohemians, Constables, the Church, or Hell), and menaces like Wounds or Nightmares, develop your character as he, she, or it pursues an overarching Ambition. The gameplay is a mixture of card game and RPG, with an ambiance that evokes Lovecraft, steampunk, and other familiar themes while managing to keep Fallen London feeling mysterious and unique, not derivative. While it is text-based like the other games mentioned, the story is meted out in tantalizing tidbits rather than requiring a large investment of time to read.

Players of Echo Bazaar are rewarded for patience, due to its unusual turn-generation model, speaking of tantalizing tidbits; people who are used to the more common methods found in other games can be frustrated here, but it’s one reason I recommend it for chronically ill gamers. You are given 70 actions a day, which cannot be increased. You can “bank” a maximum of 10 actions and as you use them, they refresh at the rate of one every 7 minutes. This does mean that you are losing turns as soon as your candle refills if you aren’t logged in, so the best attitude to take is a very relaxed one. Don’t worry about playing optimally, or not having a chance to play on a given day. You don’t have to compete with anyone (PvP, in the form of the game “Knife and Candle,” is entirely optional) and as yet there is no “end” to the game past 90 to all stats. So it’s perfectly suited for people who want a casual but engrossing experience, who can only log in once or twice a day but will always find their 10 turns awaiting and will proceed slowly, but inevitably.

(One might observe that it is a bit cruel of the folks at Failbetter to invent such a fascinating world in which to get lost…and then to limit one’s time in that world so harshly. If one were to be gauche about it.)

If you’re on Twitter and you don’t play the game, you may consider it either a curiosity or a pain in the ass, depending on how considerate are your friends who play. Echo Bazaar requires you to log in with a Twitter account, but if you want, that can be the limit of your involvement. Players are enticed to tweet at least once a day, since every 24 hours you get the option to refill your actions immediately, giving you 20 to play at once instead of 10. However, this is not required, and you can also edit what you say aside from the link. (Which, as some reviewers have gotten wrong, is not a referral link. I loathe those games.) I usually replace the default text with something tailored for my character, and I also enjoy tweeting out some of the funnier, creepier, and most intriguing bits, so I created a separate account to avoid spamming my main account’s followers.

This brings me to my final point about the game. I’m not much for multiplayer anymore, since even if I do have the energy to game, I may not have the energy to interact with strangers. This is an area where I really enjoy Echo Bazaar‘s design. There are myriad benefits to interacting with fellow players, who are people you follow (mutually or not) on Twitter. However, it all takes place in an appropriately genteel manner, as if through a matchmaker. You send an invitation to something — possibly a “visit” to decrease the menace of your Nightmares — through the game, and the recipient gets an automated DM from the @EchoBazaar account. That person can then accept the invitation, conferring benefits on both of you, or reject it. (Update: Thanks to another player for pointing out that some of the “benefits” received from these interactions aren’t necessarily positive, depending on your goal.) There is no actual chat interface or need to form a group, which cuts down greatly on my own energy costs when playing a game. However, especially if you do create a separate account, you can get involved in conversations with your fellow players, in character or otherwise…and even with the Masters of the Bazaar and other notorious inhabitants of the Neath. The level of personal interaction is completely up to you.

I’m utterly enchanted by Echo Bazaar, and in a way I want more — more actions per day, more hints about…well, everything, and just who is this mysterious Cheesemonger? But the truth is I really enjoy the fact that it can be played with one finger while lying on my side, and that due to the mechanics it’s in my favor not to get obsessed. You’ll find me exploring the dark corners of Fallen London when my body’s put the kibosh on playing anything more taxing. And you can find my character, Ms. Antoinette Divertimenta, on Twitter. I await your visit, delicious friend.

(art © Failbetter Games)

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