Losing Informed Consent
Losing Informed Consent
A couple of weeks ago, I was the faculty attending on Labor and Delivery. We were inducing a woman with severe preeclampsia and an IUGR fetus. Things went well until she was five centimeters dilated, at which point the fetal tracing went rapidly from category one to category three.
I quickly explained the situation to the patient with a resident and a nurse in the room. She heard the reasons I was recommending a cesarean section, a brief discussion of its risks, and an even briefer discussion of the alternatives (continue labor, placing the fetus at risk of permanent injury or death). She had no questions, and since she had already signed a cesarean consent at the beginning of the induction, we proceeded to the operating room to perform a cesarean.
"Informed consent isn’t about a signed consent form, it’s about seeking out what information is important to our patients and providing it to them."
- Paul Burcher, MD, PhD
The patient needed general anesthesia because she had a low platelet count. During the induction of anesthesia but before intubation, the circulating nurse announced that she couldn’t find the “informed consent” and that we could not proceed. My response involved a reference to bull manure and the comment that informed consent had just happened and that she had witnessed it herself. The anesthesiologist agreed, and the cesarean section occurred without delay.
The (Non)Ambiguous Nature of Informed Consent
This case exemplifies the ambiguity around “informed consent.” The nurse was referring to a document—a signed piece of paper. I was referencing a conversation—a process involving sharing information and answering questions. From a legal perspective, informed consent seems to represent the document. From an ethical perspective, however, it is the process, not the paper, that embodies informed consent. Of course, ultimately, both have a role to play, and in the case of a significant procedure, it is best to have both sides of this informed consent coin documented.
However, I suggest that the signed document represents an artifact—a physical symbol that two parties agree that the real nature of informed consent has been fulfilled. The piece of paper is derivative. A signed document that lacks the ethical underpinning of a complete and valid consent discussion is meaningless. A lawyer would probably give a slightly different answer, but this is an ethics blog, not a discussion of medical malpractice.