Cardiac Screening
October 31, 2014
Sudden death among 12 to 25-year-olds is “a low event rate occurrence.”
“There is insufficient information to support the view that ECGs in asymptomatic young people for cardiac disease is appropriate or possible on a national basis for the United States, in competitive athletics or in the general population.”
“At present, there is no mechanism available in the United States to effectively create national programs of such magnitude, whether limited to athletics or including the wider population of all young people.”
“There is insufficient evidence that particularly large-scale/mass screening initiatives are feasible or cost effective within the current US healthcare infrastructure . . .”
“The ECG . . . cannot be regarded as an ideal or effective test when applied to large healthy populations.”
“An additional, but unresolved, ethical issue concerns whether students who voluntarily engage in competitive athletic programs should have advantage of cardiovascular screening, while others who choose not to be involved in such activities (but may be at the same or similar risk) are in effect excluded from the same opportunity.”
The AHA’s Sept. 14 AHA writing group “does not believe the available data support significant public health benefit from using the 12-lead ECG as a universal screening tool. The writing group, however, does endorse the widespread dissemination of automated external defibrillators which are effective in saving young lives on the athletic field and elsewhere.”
Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.