Wêrom de lêst fan chronyske syktebehandeling op pasjinten rêst
March 30, 2025 · Frisian News
Health systems push responsibility for managing diabetes, heart disease, and other chronic conditions onto patients themselves, leaving many without the tools or knowledge to cope. Medical professionals expect people to monitor symptoms, take medications correctly, and change lifestyles without adequate support or training.
FryskMargot van der Berg sit yn har keuken yn Utrecht, omjûn troch sân oranje medisinfleskes. Op 58-jierrige leeftyd beheart se type 2 diabetes, hege bloeddruk en niergebrék yn it begjinstadium. Har dokters hawwe har folders oer dieet en beweging jûn, resepten útskreaun en sein dat se oer trije moannen weromkomme moat. Sûnt dy tiid hat se neat fan de klinyk heard. As har bloedsuikerweardes omheech sjitte, belt se har dokter. De resepsjonist seit har better oantekeningen te meitsjen en freget har de weardes fia e-mail yn te stjoeren. Van der Berg wurket foltiid en praat allinne basis Ingelsk, dochs is sy har eigen casemanager, har eigen monitor, har eigen ûndersiker wurden.
Dit ferhaal werhellet him yn hiel Europa en dêrbûten. Sûnenssystemen behannelje chronyske sykte as in auto dy't de fabryk ferliet en nea wer weromkomt foar ûnderhâld. Dokters skriuwe resepten út, pasjinten drage it gewicht fan it neifolgjen dêrfan. Nimmen belt om te kontrôlearjen oft medisinen bywurkingen feroarsaakje. Nimmen folget oft in pasjint pillen echt ynnimt lykas foarskreaun of it gewoan opjout. It papierwurk ferspriedt him oer meardere kliniken en sikehûzen, dy't net mei-inoar prate. As eat fout giet, moatte pasjinten harren eigen medyske skiednis gearstalle en hieltyd opnij oan ferskate spesjalisten útlizze.
De redenen binne struktureel en finansjeel. Sikehûzen en kliniken mite súkses oan trochfier: hoefolle pasjinten se sjogge, hoe gau se harren fuortstjoere. Se profitearje net fan it op lange termyn sûn hâlden fan minsken. Fersekerders betelje foar klinykbesiten en sikehûsopnames, net foar telefoangesprekken, herinnerings-sms'kes of wyklikse kontrôles dy't in krisis foarkomme kinne. In ferpleger dy't in oere besteget oan it helpen fan in pasjint syn oandoening te begripen, genereart gjin ynkomsten. In pasjint dy't nachts nei de spoedeaske help belt mei in foarkombare komplikaasje, genereart wol ynkomsten, dus it systeem ferset him net tsjin dy útkomst.
Ûnderwilens moatte pasjinten lykas Van der Berg eksperts yn har eigen oandoeningen wurde. Se keapje bloedsuikermjitters en bloeddrúkmjitters. Se lêze websites en sjogge YouTube-fideo's, wêrfan in protte misleidend of ferkeard binne. Se gokke hokker iten effekt op harren hat omdat nimmen harren yn fieding oplaat hat. Se slane doses oer of nimme se ferkeard omdat de ynstruksjes harren betize. Guon falle yn ûntkenning en stopje folslein mei it kontrôlearjen fan har bloedsuiker. Oaren sakje yn in spiraal fan eangst en folgje sifers obsessyf, wêrby't se har gedrach feroarje op basis fan ûnfolsleine ynformaasje.
De kleau tusken wat dokters ferwachtsje en wat se wurklik stypje, wurdt elk jier grutter. Sûnenssystemen hawwe in skyn fan soarch opboud, wêrby't it swiere deistiche wurk op minsken falt dy't nea foar ferpleger, apteker of specialist yn fieding keazen hawwe. Echte feroaring soe fereaskje dat kliniken harsels tariede foar echt pasjintbehear, net allinne diagnoaze en resepsje. It soe fereaskje dat fersekerders previnsje betelje. It soe systemen fereaskje dy't mei-inoar en mei harren pasjinten prate. Dy feroaring kostet jild fan tefoaren, en dejingen dy't budzjetten kontrôlearje, antwurdzje net oan chronyk sike pasjinten. Se antwurdzje oan bestjoeren, oandielhâlders en politisy dy't selden it gewicht fiele dat Van der Berg alle dagen draacht.
Margot van der Berg sits in her kitchen in Utrecht, surrounded by seven orange medication bottles. At 58, she manages type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, and early-stage kidney disease. Her doctors have given her pamphlets about diet and exercise, handed her prescriptions, and told her to check back in three months. Since then, she has heard nothing from the clinic. When her blood sugar levels spike, she calls her doctor. The receptionist tells her to keep better records and asks her to email her readings. Van der Berg works full time and speaks only basic English, yet somehow she has become her own case manager, her own monitor, her own researcher.
This story repeats across Europe and beyond. Health systems treat chronic disease like a car that leaves the factory and never returns for maintenance. Doctors write prescriptions, patients bear the weight of following them. Nobody calls to check if medications cause side effects. Nobody tracks whether a patient actually takes pills as directed or simply gives up. The paperwork sprawls across multiple clinics and hospitals, none of which speak to each other. When something goes wrong, patients must piece together their own medical history and explain it again and again to different specialists.
The reasons are structural and financial. Hospitals and clinics measure success by throughput: how many patients they see, how quickly they move them through. They do not profit from keeping people healthy long term. Insurance companies pay for clinic visits and hospital admissions, not for phone calls, text reminders, or weekly check-ins that might prevent a crisis. A nurse spending an hour helping a patient understand their condition generates no revenue. A patient who calls the emergency room at midnight with a preventable complication does generate revenue, so the system does not resist that outcome.
Meanwhile, patients like Van der Berg must become experts in their own conditions. They buy blood sugar monitors and blood pressure cuffs. They read websites and watch YouTube videos, many of them misleading or wrong. They guess at which foods affect them because nobody trained them in nutrition. They skip doses or take them wrong because the instructions confuse them. Some fall into denial and stop checking their blood sugar altogether. Others spiral into anxiety, obsessively tracking numbers and changing their behavior based on incomplete information.
The gap between what doctors expect and what they actually support grows wider each year. Health systems have built an illusion of care, one where the hard daily work falls on people who never chose to become nurses, pharmacists, or nutritionists. Real change would require clinics to staff themselves for actual patient management, not just diagnosis and prescription. It would require insurance to pay for prevention. It would require systems that speak to each other and to their patients. That change costs money upfront, and the people who control budgets do not answer to chronically ill patients. They answer to boards, shareholders, and politicians who rarely feel the weight that Van der Berg carries every single day.
Published March 30, 2025 · Frisian News · Ljouwert, Fryslân