Don't ask why doctors kill patients; ask why they kill themselves

What has happened to our doctors?

For many people, the decision whether or not to take the COVID shots was one they preferred to delegate to their doctor. For good reason, because the vast majority of Americans trust their own doctors, especially if they have a personal relationship built up over years of advice and treatment.

For many people, their instinct when faced with a serious respiratory illness that had progressed to the point of having difficulty breathing, was to rush to the hospital where they trusted that medical professionals would treat them — and heal them, with or without a positive COVID test.

And for many people, their trust in the medical profession was shattered during the COVID years. And they are left wondering: Why?

What happened to doctors — and nurses — people who invested years of their life and countless dollars to train so that they could heal people? Why had they suddenly become part of the problem rather than part of the solution?

Cogs in the corporate medical system

Perhaps the clue is in that word: “part.” America’s doctors and nurses are part of a system, one with pressure to prioritize dollars over human lives. A potentially remorseless system.

Many of the doctors who risked their careers and spoke up ended up losing their careers, their reputations, their family lives. Those who remained silent lost their integrity, and many of them know it.

In memory of Dr. Jacob Neufeld

Perhaps the story of Dr. Jacob Neufeld will give some insight into why so many of America’s doctors are no longer healers. His story, tragically, is one of many.

It is told by Dr. Pamela Wible, M.D., a doctor and suicidologist who runs a free doctor suicide helpline and, in her words, “performs psychological autopsies.”

Many people aren’t aware that of all the professions, doctors are the most likely to commit suicide. Dr. Neufeld took his life, and one of his last wishes was that his story would help other doctors from ending up where he did.

Dr. J and his kids

Dr. Jacob Neufeld, known as “Dr. J” by his patients, was a triple-board-certified pediatric physiatrist, one of just a few hundred doctors in the United States who specialized in treating severely disabled children with cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, and spinal cord injuries. He founded the Journal of Pediatric Rehabilitation Medicine and published many articles in his field.

But he was best known for his huge heart and total devotion to “his kids.” Dr. Wible describes how,

He gave families his cell number. He did house calls for homebound kids (and their anxious moms). And when God called his little ones home, he was the doc parents called to sit with them and hold their hands as their children passed away.

It was always a challenge, but the challenge became greater when his hospital placed a cap on the length of his patient visits. He had just 20 minutes to see each (hospitalized) child. It wasn’t anywhere near enough time to sit down with the child and his family, listen to their concerns, answer their questions, and update them on anything new. 

Anxious to spend more time with his kids, Neufeld skipped meals. He’d arrive early and work late. He did house calls and was available 24/7 by phone.

Broken promises

Then, in 2012, a hospital in Boise, Idaho, made Dr. Neufeld an offer that he felt he couldn’t refuse. He would be medical director of the hospital’s new pediatric rehab center, and the hospital would fund his research and journal. The hospital also promised that while he would be the director of the unit, he wouldn’t be the only pediatric physiatrist on staff—there would be backup for him when he needed it.

He accepted the offer and relocated to Idaho.

In no time he was back to giving of himself entirely, both within the hospital and at “his” children’s events where he volunteered.

But all too soon things started going wrong.

The hospital breached its contract with Dr. Neufeld and reneged on its promise to ensure there would be a second doctor in his unit when a surgeon left and was not replaced. He was now the only doctor in all of Idaho who could perform certain complicated medical procedures for patients with severe muscle spasms, which meant that he was effectively on-call 24/7/365. 

Worried for the lives of his patients, Dr. Neufeld begged the hospital to hire more specialists—to no avail. Eventually, he sought the advice of a lawyer regarding accountability in the event that a child died “on his watch.”

Dr. Wible suggests that this was one reason why the hospital eventually turned against him:

Was an attorney outside the system consulted? Yes. Going outside the system may be related to the retaliation.

Cutting costs, costs lives

What retaliation? How could a hospital turn against a doctor it had wooed from another state?

It only makes sense when viewing a hospital as a business.

Dr. Wible describes how it works:

To increase profits, hospitals push volume while replacing registered nurses with nurse’s aides, physicians with physician assistants. The few docs still standing have packed schedules and must supervise their “assistants.”

Can’t hack it? Leave. By resignation, termination, retirement, even suicide.

Or ascend the corporate ladder as a physician executive. An executive’s job is to execute. Meaning both carry out an order and carry out a death sentence. Hospital executives carry out orders that have led to deaths of patients — and doctors like Jay Neufeld. 

A hospital can save — that is, make — millions of dollars by cutting costs, and if lives are lost, that’s on the doctor, not the institution. And so, 

Getting one doc to do the job of two or three is a huge financial win. A hospital can save millions by intentionally not hiring physicians to help Neufeld.

Who can work 24/7/365?

But Dr. Neufeld’s hospital still wasn’t satisfied. In early 2017, when his contract was due to be renewed, he was presented with a 30-percent pay cut. Other than that, his job conditions were identical — he was still the only specialist in his field, he was still constantly de facto on-duty, and his hospital employers were still taking advantage of his ethics and devotion.

Once again, Dr. Neufelt attempted to point out the dangers inherent in the situation. Just a few months ago, he had asked for — and been granted — a very short family vacation, along with the promise of a competent doctor being available for his patients while he was gone. Relieved, he headed to the airport with his wife — only to be recalled by the hospital because a patient needed a complex procedure performed and only he could do it. The backup had never been hired.

Now he reminded his boss of this incident and once again asked for review.

He got it, but not quite the way he expected.

$100,000 or your license

Dr. Neufeld was called into his boss’ office where he faced his boss along with three administrators. His request for a review of the specific case was denied — instead, he was given two choices: Sign his new contract with the 30-percent pay cut, or be sent to a psychiatrist who would determined whether he was “impaired.”

Says Dr. Wible:

Ethical doctors are so painfully naïve; they just can’t think like criminals.

Not recognizing the plot for what it was, Dr. Neufeld assumed the psychiatric exam would be genuine and that he would be confirmed as what he was—a competent, caring, capable doctor. He consented to the exam, never imagining that he might actually be declared “impaired” and forced to stop working (anywhere) and undergo “treatment” at the institution chosen by his employer.

But that’s what happened, and Dr. Neufeld was forced to travel over two thousand miles to an addiction center in Mississippi and be hospitalized there for a week while he was “evaluated.” For this treatment, he was obligated to pay $100,000. Refusing to comply meant losing his license. He complied.

Declared “unfit to practice [corporate] medicine”

Physician survivors of that particular institute have told Dr. Wible that it's a place where psychiatrists “lack integrity” and where the “treatment” is a “mind-twisting, gaslighting horror show.”

Dr. Neufeld had been told by his hospital that his treatment would be confidential but when he arrived at the addiction center, minus any addiction, he was told to sign away his rights to confidentiality or be reported as noncompliant.

He signed, but it was all to no avail. After two weeks his report came back to his hospital declaring him “unfit to practice medicine,” unless he agreed to a six-week hospitalization back at the same addiction center.

After Dr. Neufeld was finally discharged, the new contract offered to him included 12 conditions, many of which were insulting and demeaning, not to mention that they prevented him from giving his all to his patients, as he had once been doing:

• He needed to have a “workside monitor” who would oversee his work
• He and his wife had to begin marriage counseling, both as a couple and individually
• He had to keep “regular” work hours
• He was not allowed to volunteer for any committees
• He was not permitted to give his cell number to patients’ families
• He had to complete a monthly “Boundary Violation Index” which effectively prevented him from making house calls
• He would remain under surveillance for years to come, including twice-yearly visits to the addiction center for check-ups

Gaslit and betrayed

Worse still, the report claimed that Dr. Neufeld “avoided accountability” and blamed others for failings, and that he “might still face challenges recognizing and respecting authority.” 

He was also diagnosed with “mild major depression,” narcissism, and perfectionism. The report also stated that he had “trouble delegating.” There was no mention of the inconvenient fact that there was nobody he could delegate to, nor that he had begged for assistance numerous times only to be rebuffed.

And discarded

Devastating as it was to accept his new terms of employment, Dr. Neufeld had no other option. He signed.

Apparently his employer had not anticipated this turn of events. She had never intended his return to work. In fact, she had already ordered his office contents packed in boxes and when he turned up at the hospital, he was not even granted access to them. 

Dr. J hanged himself.

Dr. Wible writes:

I consider Dr. J’s suicide a homicide. Capital punishment—since he didn’t generate enough capital.

Dr. J didn't kill a single patient. But his hospital killed him

Dr. Neufeld left behind a suicide video in which he said:

In the end, I do blame everything on the mismanagement for handling of this whole thing by my hospital ... I just can’t seem to overcome the disappointment, shame, my own failure, and my inability to communicate the deep pain that I feel from my failure, my depression, my burnout, the lack of help...

It’s clearly documented that there was no call coverage for my patients for years. It was just me. There was no help at all...

They wouldn’t let me go back to work...

Please God forgive me, forgive me for all my sins ... I did not hurt anybody. Nobody died. There were no serious mistakes...

He then appealed for change:

Hospitals have to do a better job at helping doctors ... We are being disposed of ... My hospital has clearly failed and people need to understand that you have got to help more doctors. That you can’t treat us this way. It’s cruel ... I hope that maybe someone will pay attention to this because I don’t want more doctors to do what I am about to do.

To be continued…