Assessment Perspectives and the Human Matrix




We have already seen how a deeper understanding of the person beneath the diagnosis can suggest powerful methods for securing a sound initial treatment plan, while simultaneously maximizing engagement and the likelihood of a second meeting. One critical way-station on our map of the initial interview remains untapped – the cognitive art of assessment. By “assessment” we are referring to the fashion in which the clinician “puts all of the puzzle pieces together” from the patient’s history. The clinician will arrive at his or her initial formulation of what the problems are, what are the various forces at work contributing to the patient’s problems, and what are some of the possibilities for transforming these problems. This fourth way-station in our map is arguably the major gateway to our fifth, and final way-station – collaborative treatment planning (Figure 7.1).


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Figure 7.1 Map of the interviewing process. 

In our first six chapters we have focused upon clinician behaviors as manifested in specific interviewing techniques and strategies. But it is not only the interviewer’s behaviors that define an interview; interviewing is also a cognitive art. In this regard, the initial interviewer’s mind is alive with assessment possibilities – potential clues to healing.


Much cognitive work is occurring while the interview unfolds, for the interviewer, in addition to gathering the database, must also “listen” to the database as it reveals itself. The ultimate goal of the initial interview – in addition to enhancing the likelihood of a second interview – is to collaboratively develop an initial treatment plan that seeds hope by the end of the interview and, indeed, begins the healing process. It is from the interviewer’s and patient’s assessment of what is right and what is wrong that treatment options come to mind. It is this cognitive assessment that creates the bridges leading into effective treatment planning. These cognitive skills, utilized throughout the initial encounter, are the focus of this chapter.


I must emphasize that this is not a chapter about how to choose specific therapies and design concrete treatment plans. Such a topic as treatment planning is both complex and vast – well beyond the scope of a book focused on the interviewing process. The interested reader is directed to the many outstanding texts on treatment planning.24 Instead, this is a chapter about the cognitive processes and decisions that a clinician must make during the interview itself about what data to gather in the first place and how to use this data to collaboratively develop treatment plan options with the patient. I believe that a fundamental familiarity with the basic principles of treatment planning is an essential part of an interviewing course, for a clinician cannot truly understand how to interview effectively if one does not understand the reason for the interview – what information is needed for a treatment plan and why.


This chapter explores three assessment perspectives by which clinicians can organize, during the interview itself and immediately afterwards, the massive stream of information encountered in an initial interview in such a way that the database provides signposts pointing towards possible treatment options. In essence, a sound assessment perspective can generate a listing, in the interviewer’s mind, of possible treatment interventions to collaboratively share with the patient. Such ongoing organization can also significantly enhance the clinician’s ability to rapidly create a final assessment document (whether dictated, typed, or written), a skill of marked importance in this age of managed care and tight time constraints, as well as representing the final task of the initial interview.


Frequently I have seen clinicians falter, not because they lack adequate knowledge about the use of specific treatment modalities, but because the use of certain modalities never comes to mind. They become lost in the database, emphasizing certain information while ignoring, or not even obtaining, other pertinent data. We are dealing with an information processing problem, a not unexpected dilemma considering the vastness of the information involved in understanding another person’s problems. In this chapter we will study a common-sense approach to creating a realistic list of viable treatment options. No attempt is made to suggest the pros and cons of any specific treatment; rather, the focus is upon bridging from the process of data gathering in the body of the interview to collaboratively creating an initial, albeit tentative, treatment plan in the closing phase of the interview.


This chapter also demonstrates that the treatment opportunities that come to mind for the clinician appear to be directly related to both the data collected and the method of organizing the data. For example, a clinician who does not learn to ask questions concerning the neurovegetative symptoms suggestive of a medication-responsive depression will most likely not think to utilize such a medication. Likewise, a clinician is less likely to think of intervening via social work channels if current stressors are ignored.


To avoid such tunnel vision, clinicians can organize their data into schemata that emphasize conceptualization from multiple viewpoints. In this chapter we will look at three such systems. Through them, the power of a well-organized database to lead to effective treatment planning will become apparent.


We shall look at the following three assessment perspectives: (1) the diagnostic perspective provided by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5 version),5 (2) matrix treatment planning, and (3) the perspective provided by understanding the “core pains” of the patient. Although overlapping at their interfaces, each of these perspectives generates unique clues for treatment planning. Consequently, it is often expedient to create an initial treatment plan utilizing all three perspectives. I have found single-perspective treatment planning to be generally unsatisfactory, akin to beginning a watercolor with only half of the necessary paints. The value of multi-faceted treatment plans, which integrate care longitudinally, has been well described in a variety of areas by authors such as Kim Mueser and Robert Drake concerning dual diagnoses6 and McKinnis-Dittrich with elders.7


Each of the three assessment perspectives provides the following benefits for usefully organizing clinical information:



1. An easy and rapid method of checking, during the interview itself, whether pertinent data regions for treatment planning have been explored, thus decreasing errors of omission


2. A reliable method of reminding the clinician to borrow from different data perspectives when collaboratively formulating a treatment plan with the patient


3. A flexible approach to delineating a list of potential treatment modalities with the patient


In addition, outside of the domain of the initial interview, a clinician who understands how to effectively utilize these three bridges into treatment planning will have learned a set of skills that are invaluable in ongoing treatment planning, especially when there appears to be a roadblock. These treatment-planning perspectives often allow treatment teams to create new and refreshing transformations of stalled moments in ongoing care. We will begin by reviewing a database gleaned from an actual initial interview. Following this presentation, the information from each of the three perspectives mentioned above will be examined, observing the utility in the initial interview provided by each viewpoint.



Clinical Presentation: the Initial Interview


When I first saw Ms. Baker (Debbie) she was sitting in the waiting room. Her eyes were hiding behind a pair of large, pink-framed sunglasses. These frames were bordered by her shortly bobbed brown hair. She had a round face and a rather short frame. She was wearing a neon-pink T-shirt and a pair of freshly washed jeans. Wrapped around her left wrist was a wide leather band with the name Paul tooled into it.


When I asked if she was “Ms. Baker” she pertly looked up, smiled and replied, “Yes, I’m Ms. Baker, but not for long.” I asked what she meant, and she replied, “Oh, I’m getting married in a month.”


Once in my office, she related a story of a longstanding problem with fluctuating moods. She spoke in a quiet voice, frequently casting her eyes to the floor, as if to avoid seeing the impact of her words upon my face. She displayed no evidence of derailment (loose associations), thought blocking, pressured speech, or illogical thought. She gave no evidence of responding to hallucinations and denied both auditory and visual hallucinations.


With regard to her moodiness, she stated that her moods frequently changed throughout the day. It was not at all unusual for her to feel various moods, including anger and rejection, during the course of a single day. Although she reported intermittent periods of feeling decreased energy, decreased interest in activities, decreased libido, and difficulty falling asleep, she denied any periods of 2 weeks or more in which these symptoms were persistent. She denied manic or hypomanic symptoms past or present.


She lived in a world of imagined fear, persistently worried that she would be abandoned. At night she would become angered if her partner fell asleep first, because she would quickly become engulfed by her fear of being alone. These fears fostered an intense dependency, which she readily admitted was a major handicap. She went out of her way to please her partner, allowing all major decisions to be made by her, including the upcoming wedding plans. This dependency also surfaced with the string of therapists lying in her wake. Her most recent therapist had to have her forcibly removed from his office by the police, an act marking the end of their contact.


As one might have surmised, impulse control was not a strong point. For instance, several years earlier she had managed to toss a picnic table bench through a friend’s picture window while enraged. Moreover, she had a history of popping pills in small suicidal gestures about every 2 to 3 months over the past 3 years.


Her relationship with her parents was very strained, and she felt she had always been marked as the black sheep of the family. She had one sister 2 years older than she, who was employed as an accountant and was reported as happily married. One of her earliest memories consisted of standing behind the front door weeping as her father walked away down the stone path. As she cried, her mother shook her violently, pulling her away from the doorway.


To my surprise, the wristband bearing the name Paul had nothing to do with past or present friends or her partner. Instead it referred to herself, for she often fantasized that she was Paul Newman. This vivid fantasy game was indulged by her partner, who would call her Paul when they decided to play this game of pseudo-identity. At no time did Debbie, nor her partner, lose sight that this was merely a fantasy, although she longed to be anyone but herself. When talking of her fantasy identity, she would occasionally cry softly, as if punctuating her story with tears.



The Diagnostic Perspective of the DSM and ICD Systems


The Healing Power of Differential Diagnosis


For clinicians, differential diagnosis serves one major purpose – to discover information that may lead to more effective methods of helping the patient. Diagnosis should not be an intellectual game or a pastime used to placate insurance companies. Over the years I have found the DSM systems (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), including the DSM-IV and the DSM-5,8 as well as the International Classification of Diseases (ICD) nomenclatures,9 to be invaluable in helping me to initiate the healing process, serving as a robust bridge to treatment planning. A formal diagnostic schema provides this bridge to treatment planning in many ways.


Like the common language we have developed for discussing the interviewing process itself, the art of differential diagnosis allows one to conceptualize the complexities of the patient’s presentation more clearly, while alerting the clinician to hidden problems. Differential diagnosis can also provide valuable information concerning prognosis, possible treatment modalities, and pitfalls to be avoided in dealing with certain syndromes (i.e., a psychotherapist who has spotted that the patient fits the criteria for a dependent personality disorder in the initial interview will be careful to avoid psychotherapeutic missteps in subsequent sessions that could lead to a pathologic dependence on the therapist).


A particularly important benefit of performing a sound differential diagnosis with all patients in an initial interview is the ability of a clinician adept at such skills to uncover a hidden diagnosis that a patient will not share spontaneously because of problems with stigma, embarrassment, or lack of self-awareness that a problem exists. Such a hidden diagnosis, if left hidden, can lead to problems, including severe ramifications such as untreated substance abuse and even suicide, all because the patient was afraid to share the symptoms unless directly asked about them, a surprisingly common phenomenon.


For instance, as we saw in Chapter 2, many patients with obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) will develop reactive depressions to the problems caused by having the OCD. Because of fears of appearing crazy or strange, they will present to the therapist complaining only of their depression or marital problems. Likewise, a college student presenting with depressive or anxious symptoms may have severe bulimia or substance abuse underlying it, which is not shared spontaneously secondary to stigma. For these reasons, the art of diagnostic formulation remains a cornerstone of sound assessment during an initial interview.


In my opinion, many treatment failures are the result of such untreated hidden diagnoses. Studies such as the National Comorbidity Survey (NCS) have shown marked comorbidity among commonly presenting mental disorders including depression, panic disorder, OCD, and alcohol dependence.10 In a community sample, over 56.3% of patients presenting with a major depression had another current psychiatric disorder.11 The rate of comorbidity is even higher with another commonly presenting disorder – generalized anxiety disorder – where rates of comorbidity have been reported of more than 90% in both a clinical and community sample.12 By doing a sound differential on all patients, no matter “how obvious” the presenting symptoms may be for a mood or anxiety disorder, one may uncover a disorder that is even more problematic or might even be the root of the patient’s problems.


In addition, diagnostic systems such as the DSM-5 and ICD-10 allow both clinicians and researchers the opportunity to share their successful experiences in treating a specific disorder in a common language. When a clinician discovers a treatment plan that is useful in relieving a resistant major depression, these findings may be applicable to a patient being treated by a fellow clinician, who might benefit from the shared knowledge. Formal differential diagnosis is a practical passport to the knowledge housed in journals, books, and the minds of our fellow clinicians.


A clinical vignette will make this abstract discussion more concrete. I was working with a couple whose marriage was riddled with a nasty streak of passive aggression and strained communication. After several sessions, the marital therapy seemed to be bogging down. The husband, a rather narcissistic man, kept insisting that nothing was being done for him. In reviewing my notes, I discovered that the referring clinician had diagnosed the husband as suffering from a dysthymic disorder. I had recently read an article reporting that certain types of dysthymic disorders responded well to antidepressant medication. My patient fit one of these descriptions and consequently was begun on an appropriate antidepressant. He quickly found significant relief.


However, to the chagrin of both the patient and his spouse, their marital friction remained painfully present. Up to this point, he had balked at couples therapy, categorically stating, “My problems are all from my depression. Trust me, there is nothing wrong with my marriage.” With marked marital discord remaining despite relief from his depressive symptoms, he no longer had an excuse for avoiding the work of therapy, thanks to the antidepressant suggested by his DSM diagnosis. Suddenly the marital therapy could move ahead more effectively. This vignette illustrates the power of a common diagnostic language to provide a clinician with knowledge discovered by others. Without the diagnosis of dysthymia, and its relation to the article that I had just read, this pivotal treatment intervention would not have been tried.


Let us explore in more detail how diagnoses can be valuable in suggesting possible treatment modalities. For instance, major depressions frequently respond to antidepressants and may also benefit from concurrent psychotherapy or, frequently, from psychotherapy alone. Bipolar disorder (manic phase) is usually approached with lithium, antipsychotic medications, or antiseizure medications such as carbamazepine, lamotrigine, and valproic acid. Phobias are frequently alleviated by using cognitive and behavioral techniques. Mild to moderate forms of major depression can be approached using dynamic and cognitive psychotherapies, behavioral approaches, or numerous counseling techniques. Uncovering the presence of a borderline personality disorder can suggest the use of specific evidence-based interventions such as Marsha Linnehans’ dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT)13 or recent time-limited transference-based therapies.14 The above list merely represents a terse survey, but it nevertheless highlights the power of a diagnostic system to help in developing a diverse treatment approach.


Finally, diagnosis can play a key role in the healing process from a completely different perspective than the clinician’s viewpoint. Correct diagnoses, shared sensitively, can be surprisingly comforting to patients who have had no idea what was plaguing them other than there “must be something really wrong with me” or “I must be a weak person.” Underlying biologic disorders such as bipolar disorder or adult attention-deficit disorder not only can destroy effective functioning, they can savage self-esteem and self-image. Such patients often go for years without any knowledge that they have an underlying biologic disruption, which has been the root cause of their ruined marriages, lost jobs, failed grades, and financial collapses. In such cases, patients often view themselves as the sole creators of their distress and failures. These types of self-degrading cognitions can lead to untold suffering and can also provide fertile soil for suicide. Learning that there exists a different explanation for their inability to function – than they had believed – can be powerfully healing, as we saw with the woman who presented with depression but had severe OCD as her primary diagnosis in Chapter 2.



Limitations of Formal Diagnostic Systems Such as the DSM and ICD


Before proceeding, it seems expedient to review some of the important limitations of traditional diagnostic approaches, such as the DSM-5. Only through knowledge of a system’s weaknesses can its strengths be utilized safely.


One of the most obvious limitations remains the fact that diagnoses are labels. As labels, they can be abused. One such abuse occurs when clinicians fall into the trap of using diagnoses as stereotypical explanations for human behavior. It should be remembered that a diagnosis provides no particular knowledge about any given patient. It merely suggests possible characteristics that may or may not be generalizable to the patient in question. In addition, as we saw in Chapter 6, it is critical to uncover the person beneath the diagnosis, a point elegantly stated by the gifted physician Sir William Osler, many years ago, when he commented, “It is much more important to know what sort of patient has a disease than to know what sort of disease a patient has.”15


Moreover, diagnostic formulations are evolving processes and as such should be periodically re-examined. There is a realistic danger that patients can become stuck with inappropriate diagnoses, a problem that can only be avoided through persistent reappraisal. In a similar fashion, the clinician should remain healthily aware of the potential ramifications of certain diagnostic labels with regard to the patient’s culture and family. By way of example, the label of schizophrenia can result in the loss of a job or in the development of a scapegoating process within a given family. Considerations of these problematic aspects of diagnosis related to cultural issues should be integral parts of sound clinical care.


In this regard, the kulturbrille effect, introduced in our last chapter, can cause problems such as over-pathologizing, if the interviewer is not aware of cultural norms. For instance, where I trained in medicine at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, it was not uncommon for patients to talk about “root-working,” which was a culturally accepted folk belief that some people could perform malicious magic by burying and manipulating certain roots. Obviously, with some people who were suffering with schizophrenia this became part of a delusional belief system. But it was important for clinicians to realize that all patients who discussed root-work were not necessarily psychotic. In some patients it was merely an accepted belief and not evidence of psychopathology. In advanced diagnostic systems such as the DSM nomenclature and ICD, it is stressed that clinicians should be aware of such cultural norms so as to avoid such misattributions.


The issue of the significance of a specific diagnostic label to the patient himself or herself can be of marked importance. For this reason, I frequently ask patients if anyone has given them a diagnosis in the past. If the answer is “yes,” one can follow with questions such as, “What is your understanding of the word schizophrenia?” or “Do you think that diagnosis is right?” The answers to these questions can provide valuable insight into the patient’s self-image, intellectual level, and previous care.


With these limitations in mind, we can now begin our exploration of the DSM-5 in more detail. In 1980, the DSM-III system introduced many of the innovations, such as multiaxial formulation, that formed the foundation of the contemporary DSM systems. A bridge between the two systems called the DSM-III-R appeared in 1987, and added its own new ideas and refinements. The DSM-IV itself was published in 1994. In 2000, the DSM-IV-TR (Text Revision) was published, which did not change any diagnostic criteria but added much useful information about psychopathology and the subtleties of the diagnostic system to enhance the system as an educational tool, while keeping its mat­erial updated to reflect advances in evidence-based research.


It is to the DSM-5 system that we will now turn. We will not attempt to review diagnostic criteria now, because these are discussed in subsequent chapters. Instead we will look at those principles that help to make diagnostic formulation possible in the first 50 minutes. As diagnostic systems evolve they necessarily experiment with various changes, many of which are good, and occasionally, a few are not so good. There are some significant improvements in the DSM-5, but we will begin our study by noting what I, personally, feel is a potential regression in the system. This book focuses on contemporary practice, but I feel that this brief exploration of historical context can help the reader to be a better clinician both now and in the future.



The Loss of Multiaxial Formulation: a Historical Footnote


To me, one of the most compelling aspects of the DSM-III and the DSM-IV-TR was the fact that these systems pushed the interviewer to consider various contextual perspectives while formulating a diagnostic picture. Each perspective was placed upon one of five axes.


On Axis I, clinicians were prompted to delineate the patient’s presentation in terms of the classic psychiatric diagnoses such as major depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, anorexia nervosa, OCD, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Indeed, all psychiatric disorders – with the exception of personality disorders and intellectual disabilities – were listed on this first axis. It was on Axis II that clinicians were to list personality disorders as well as personality traits, whether the traits were problematic or sometimes beneficial in nature. Medical disorders and other biologic conditions such as pregnancy were placed on the third axis. It was on Axis IV that the clinician could help place the patient into their contextual matrix by addressing processes such as family, friendships, living conditions, financial concerns, and cultural issues. Finally, on the last axis, the interviewer considered in what fashion the above concerns and disorders were impacting on the patient’s relatively recent and immediate functioning.


The beauty of the system was the fashion in which it emphasized a holistic approach to conceptualizing the patient’s presentation while simultaneously preventing biological reductionism. This multiaxial approach metacommunicated that the field of psychiatry emphasized the importance of a contextual understanding of the patient. Indeed, the multiaxial system demanded that clinicians look at the patient contextually.


The DSM-5 has removed the mutiaxial system and, to my knowledge, is now the only major international diagnostic system that is not multiaxial. I mention it as being odd (a personal opinion) in that it seems to fly in the face of the current emphasis upon person-centered medicine, whether one is dealing with diabetes and cancer or schizophrenia. It should be noted that the final arbiters of the DSM-5 still felt that contextual factors, whether they be cultural, interpersonal, or environmental are important. Indeed, they recommend that such factors be routinely addressed in separate notations with all patients, but this recommendation seems to be undermined by the elimination of specific axes where it was required that these factors would be routinely addressed.


I feel that the lack of these axes, especially in our current age of time constraints, may invite a lack of attention to core aspects of care by harried clinicians. For instance, placing personality function and disorders on a separate axis in the DSM-IV-TR reminded clinicians that it is always important to understand the personality functioning of the patient and how it might impact on Axis I disorders such as OCD or schizophrenia. It further pushed clinicians to sensitively uncover the unique personality attributes of each patient, for such personality predispositions can be invaluable in understanding how a patient responds to his or her symptoms as well as in collaboratively developing treatment plans that fit the needs of that patient’s unique personality traits.


In any case, despite the lack of formal axes in the DSM-5, I myself find it useful when listing the DSM-5 diagnoses to always address the presence or absence of personality disorders and medical disorders separately, to remind myself (and the reader of my clinical assessment) of the importance of such factors. By way of illustration, in the chapters on differential diagnosis in Part II of this book, I will demonstrate how to do so in our clinical vignettes.


Later in this chapter, we will see that factors such as psychological, social, and spiritual aspects are comprehensively addressed in the two other treatment planning frameworks that I suggest routinely employing in addition to the DSM-5: matrix treatment planning and understanding the core pains of the patient.



Major Psychiatric Disorders (Other Than Personality Disorders)


At first glance the DSM-5 may appear confusing because of the large number of diagnostic entities that it contains. But there is little need for concern. The craft in using this system lies in approaching the task by first uncovering the general diagnostic probabilities and then delineating the specific diagnoses (Figure 7.2).


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Figure 7.2 Basic approach to diagnostic utilization with adults (patient with a major depressive disorder). 

As the initial interviewer listens during the opening phase and the body of the interview, the symptoms of the patient will suggest diagnostic regions worthy of more elaborate expansion. This primary delineation will lead the clinician to one or more of the following easily remembered regions of adult psychopathology:



1. Schizophrenia Spectrum and Other Psychotic Disorders


2. Mood Disorders (including major depressive disorders, bipolar disorders, etc.)


3. Anxiety Disorders


4. Obsessive–Compulsive and Related Disorders


5. Trauma/Stress-Related Disorders (includes acute stress disorder, PTSD, adjustment disorders, etc.)


6. Dissociative Disorders


7. Somatic Symptom and Related Disorders (somatic symptom disorder, illness anxiety disorder, conversion disorder, etc.)


8. Feeding and Eating Disorders


9. Substance-Related and Addictive Disorders


10. Neurocognitive Disorders (delirium, dementia, etc.)


11. Other miscellaneous disorders (gender dysphoria, disruptive and impulse-control disorders, sleep–wake disorders, paraphilic disorders, etc.)


12. Mental disorders due to a general medical condition (e.g., personality change secondary to a frontal lobe tumor, etc.)


13. V-codes and other conditions that may be a focus of clinical attention


Looked at in this simplified fashion, the first step in utilizing the DSM-5 appears considerably more manageable than at first glance. In order to succeed, the clinician must be well grounded in psychopathology, as will be discussed in Part II of this book. This knowledge base will allow the interviewer to quickly determine which of the thirteen areas are most pertinent. As the interview progresses, the clinician can reflect upon whether each of these broad areas has at least been considered, thus avoiding errors of omission.


Once the primary delineation has been made, the interviewer can proceed with the secondary delineation, in which the specific diagnoses subsumed under the broad diagnostic areas are explored and the more exact DSM-5 differential diagnosis is determined. Thus, if the clinician suspects a mood disorder, the clinician will eventually hunt for criteria substantiating specific mood diagnoses such as major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder, dysthymia, cyclothymic disorder, other specified or unspecified depressive disorders, and other specified or unspecified bipolar disorders. This secondary delineation would be performed in each broad diagnostic area deemed pertinent.


As already described in Chapters 3 and 4, these explorations occur during the main body of the interview. Most importantly, they are done in a highly flexible fashion, always patterning the questioning in the style most compatible with the needs of the patient and the clinical situation. Consequently, the clinician expands these diagnostic regions in a unique fashion with each patient, mixing them with various other content regions and process regions. When done well, the result is an interview that feels unstructured to the patient yet delineates an accurate diagnosis.


V-codes represent conditions not attributable to a mental disorder that might be useful as areas for the focus of therapeutic intervention. Examples include academic problems, occupational problems, uncomplicated bereavement, low interest and follow-through with medications, marital problems, parent–child problems, and others. Sometimes these codes are used because no mental disorder is present, and the patient is coping with one of the stresses just listed. They can also be used if the clinician feels that not enough information is available to rule out a psychiatric syndrome, but, in the meantime, an area for specific intervention is being highlighted. Finally, these V-codes can be used with a patient who carries a specific psychiatric syndrome but for whom that syndrome is not the immediate problem or the focus of intervention. For example, an individual with chronic schizophrenia in remission may present with marital distress.



Personality Disorders


The basic approach to differential diagnosis with personality disorders follows the same two-step delineation that we found to be useful in delineating the non-personality related psychiatric disorders above. In the first delineation, one asks whether the interviewee’s story suggests evidence of long-term interpersonal dysfunction that has remained relatively consistent from adolescence onwards. If so, the patient may very well fulfill the criteria for a personality disorder or disorders.


After determining that a personality disorder may very well be present, the clinician proceeds with the secondary delineation in which specific regions of personality diagnoses are expanded. This secondary delineation will result in the generation of a differential from the following list:



1. Paranoid personality disorder


2. Schizoid personality disorder


3. Schizotypal personality disorder


4. Histrionic personality disorder


5. Narcissistic personality disorder


6. Antisocial personality disorder


7. Borderline personality disorder


8. Avoidant personality disorder


9. Dependent personality disorder


10. Obsessive–compulsive personality disorder


11. Other specified personality disorder


12. Unspecified personality disorder


In Chapter 14 we will examine in great detail the many fascinating subtleties involved in exploring personality structure during an initial interview. One area not covered by the DSM-5 but sometimes of great value in understanding personality functioning is the role of defense mechanisms. Defense mechanisms range from those commonly seen in neurotic disorders such as rationalization and intellectualization to those seen in more severe disorders such as denial, projection, and splitting.


Understanding a person’s unconscious defense mechanisms (in classic psychoanalytic thought, defense mechanisms are viewed as being generally unconscious) can help the interviewer to uncover a more accurate picture of the person beneath the diagnosis. Defense mechanisms represent unconscious coping skills that protect a person from intense anxiety and/or unconscious ideas, images, or desires that would create intense guilt or shame. A detailed exploration of the various defense mechanisms, as they unfold in ongoing psychotherapy, is beyond the scope of this book, but the interested reader will find an excellent survey of them in the DSM-IV-TR, where a proposed possible axis called “the Defensive Functioning Scale” is outlined.16



Non-Psychiatric Medical Conditions


Non-psychiatric medical conditions such as diabetes, hypertension, seizures, etc., were listed on Axis III in the DSM-IV-TR. In the DSM-5, such disorders are now merged into a listing of the psychiatric disorders that are present.


The importance of an awareness of the potential presence of non-psychiatric medical disorders cannot be emphasized too much. In my opinion, all patients who exhibit psychological complaints for an extended time period should be evaluated by a physician, nurse clinician, or physician’s assistant to rule out any underlying physiologic condition or causative agent. To not perform this examination is to risk a real disservice to the patient, because entities such as endocrine disorders and malignancies can easily present with psychological symptoms. The astute clinician will always keep in mind that one can easily misattribute depression or anxiety that is being caused by an undiagnosed medical illness, such as hyperthyroidism, a low-grade encephalitis, or a frontal lobe brain tumor, to a current stressor. Just about anybody who develops a medical illness will have unrelated concurrent stressors in his or her life, for stress is a common aspect of living.


A person with an undiagnosed, slow-growing brain tumor that is resulting in a moderately severe depression with angry outbursts could be undergoing a severe financial loss with foreclosure that is completely unrelated to the brain tumor. An unwary clinician can quickly ascribe the depression and anger to the foreclosure (because the patient also is ascribing the depression and anger to his finances and loss of his house), thus missing the real cause of the mood disturbance and disruptive behaviors – a potentially fatal brain tumor. Proceeding with psychotherapy, without having uncovered the malignancy via a referral to a medical specialist, will result in precious time lost as the malignancy continues to grow and potentially metastasize. A keen persistence in ruling out the presence of a contributing non-psychiatric medical disorder can help clinicians to avoid such potentially dangerous red herrings.


It should also be remembered that the presence of a serious medical condition such as diabetes or congestive heart failure (even when it is unrelated to any psychiatric symptoms or disorders) represents a major stressor to the patient. Such conditions can significantly impact on the patient’s resiliency and ability to cope with his or her psychiatric disorder. Such considerations are of immediate importance in collaborative treatment planning and mobilizing familial/social/medical supports.


In this same light, a medical review of systems and a past medical history should become a standard part of an initial psychiatric assessment. Other physical conditions that are not diseases may also provide important information concerning the holistic state of the interviewee. For instance, it is relevant to know if the interviewee is pregnant or a trained athlete, because these conditions may point towards germane biologic and psychological issues, sometimes indicating potential strengths, such as routine exercise or yoga practice, that can be capitalized upon as parts of the treatment plan.



Psychosocial Context and Stressors


Although there is no specific axis for assessing psychosocial factors in the DSM-5, their importance is emphasized. Indeed, the DSM-5 recommends routinely assessing psychosocial factors and documenting the assessment as a special notation in all diagnostic assessments. Unfortunately, as mentioned earlier, I fear that without the mandate of a specific axis requiring an exploration of these factors, they may frequently be under-explored.


Nevertheless, this exploration, when done well, allows the interviewer to examine the crucial interaction between the patient and the environment in which he or she lives. All too often interviewers can be swept away by the complexities, intrigues, and symptoms of specific psychiatric disorders, failing to uncover the reality-based problems confronting the people coping with these disorders. These reality-based concerns frequently suggest avenues for therapeutic intervention as well as uncovering unexpected support systems.


By way of illustration, an interviewer may discover that secondary to a job layoff, the home of the patient is about to be foreclosed. Such information may suggest the need to help the patient make contact with a specific social agency or may suggest referral to a social worker.


This area of inquiry also remains of paramount importance in the successful use of crisis intervention counseling, time-limited therapies, and solution-focused therapies. Any time a patient presents in crisis, it is generally useful to determine what perceived stressors have brought the patient to the point of seeking professional help. A question such as the following is often useful: “What stresses have you been coping with recently?” or “What was going on for you that made you decide to actually come here tonight as opposed to coming tomorrow or some other time?”



Level of Current Functioning and Impairment


Once again, the DSM-5 has eliminated a designated axis for recording information regarding the patient’s level of function (formally Axis V in the DSM-IV-TR). However, the DSM-5 does acknowledge the importance of such explorations. In this regard, the World Health Organization’s Disability Assessment Scale (WHODAS) is included in Section III of the DSM-5, but the WHODAS is not easy to use in the tight time constraints of an initial assessment. The absence of a designated axis for requiring a sound assessment of current functioning, to me, invites potentially inferior exploration.


A robust assessment of actual current functioning pushes the clinician to carefully review evidence of immediate coping skills as affected by symptomatology. It is important to utilize behavioral incidents in this exploration, for patients, if merely asked for their opinions, may give misleading answers. By way of example, an acutely psychotic patient who does not want to be admitted to hospital may reply with a simple “not often” when asked, “Are the voices bothering you frequently?” Utilizing validity techniques such as behavioral incidents and symptom amplification as described in Chapter 5, the clinician may find that the dialogue develops more along the following lines:



Clin.: Looking at the last 2 days, how many times have you heard the voices per day, 10 times a day, 30 times a day, 60 times? (symptom amplification)


Pt.: (pausing and glancing away for a moment) Probably, well … maybe a good 30 times a day.


Clin.: What types of things do they say? (behavioral incident)


Pt.: (pause) They tell me I’m ugly. So what else is new.


Clin.: What do you feel when the voices say mean things like that to you? (behavioral incident)


Pt.: It hurts, but I try to push them out of mind.


Clin.: Do they ever tell you to hurt yourself? (behavioral incident)


Pt.: You could say that.


Clin.: What exactly do they tell you? (behavioral incident)


Pt.: They tell me to kill myself because I’m too ugly to live.


By starting with a symptom amplification and then repeatedly using the behavioral incident technique, the clinician has found not only that the voices are bothersome but also that they are frequent and potentially dangerous.


The clinician may find it to be opportune, during the exploration of current functioning, to ask directly about elements of the wellness triad, hunting for strengths, skills, and interests as described in Chapter 6, for all of these attributes may be of value in helping the patient to cope more effectively with their current problems. Also keep in mind with regard to current functioning that sources outside the patient, such as family, friends, roommates, and employers frequently provide more valid information than the patient. Once again, when questioning collaborative sources, behavioral incidents can be used to enhance validity.



Clinical Application of the DSM-5


To begin applying our first assessment perspective, the DSM-5, we must first organize our data. We will then ask ourselves what, if any, treatment modalities are suggested by the diagnoses we have generated. With regard to major psychiatric diagnoses (other than personality disorders), Debbie’s presentation suggests several diagnostic entities. The primary delineation suggests that her symptoms are those of some type of mood disorder. Regarding the secondary delineation into the specific mood disorders present, she does not appear to currently fit the criteria for a major depressive disorder, but she may represent a variant of persistent depressive disorder (dysthymia). As mentioned earlier, the presence of this disorder might suggest the short-term use of an antidepressant. Dysthymia can also be approached using a variety of psychotherapeutic modalities, including cognitive–behavioral therapy (CBT) and psychodynamic models.


Her history suggests no strong evidence for entities such as schizophrenia or other psychotic processes, although the clinician may want to explore her vivid fantasy productions in more detail to rule out the possibility of delusional material or dissociative identity disorder. There is no evidence of a neurocognitive disorder such as delirium or dementia. Several areas not well explored are the areas of anxiety disorders, obsessive–compulsive disorders, trauma-related disorders, and dissociative disorders. In a later interview these omissions can be easily addressed.


Here we see how the use of a diagnostic paradigm can help prevent problematic errors of omission. Even the best clinician, and I have encountered this process many times in my own work, will not have time to scan for all potentially pertinent diagnoses because of the tight time constraints under which we all work. Through the use of a diagnostic schema such as the DSM-5, one can quickly, and reliably, spot diagnostic areas that were inadvertently missed, opening up the chance to appropriately explore for potentially hidden diagnoses in the next interview. To miss a diagnosis such as PTSD (possibly related to childhood abuse) in a patient with Debbie’s presentation could lead to missed opportunities for treatment intervention, including such opportunities as a survivor’s group.


Regarding personality dysfunction, several possibilities are emerging that may provide important clues as to how to proceed. Many of her symptoms, such as her frequent angry outbursts, her numerous overdoses, and her deep fears of abandonment and being alone, suggest the possibility of the diagnosis of a borderline personality and perhaps a dependent personality. Both of these diagnoses serve to warn the clinician that Debbie may be predisposed to becoming overly dependent upon the clinician. Dependency issues may be important areas for focus in the upcoming therapy. Also of importance is the fact that a large body of literature exists concerning the treatment of the borderline personality, literature that can be easily tapped by the clinician. As a triage agent, the diagnostic label of a borderline personality may also suggest the wisdom of not assigning this patient to a newly trained or poorly skilled therapist, because such patients are frequently difficult to manage. Regarding personality dysfunction, one might further explore entities such as a histrionic personality, a schizotypal personality, or an antisocial personality.


As mentioned earlier, all patients should be conceptualized within the context of their personality structures and predispositions, no matter how striking the presenting symptoms of the patient’s non-personality related symptoms may be. In this fashion, diagnoses such as borderline personality will not be missed. By not recognizing processes such as the potential for borderline dependency early in therapy, the therapist risks missing the diagnosis until well into therapy, by which time the patient may have already become markedly enmeshed and dependent on the therapist. By this point, much painful acting out may have occurred for the patient, and smooth transitions to other treatment options, such as DBT, will have been made more difficult. All of this pain could be avoided by screening for this diagnosis in the initial interview, as was done with Debbie.


An exploration of possible non-psychiatric medical conditions brings many important points to mind. In the first place, Debbie’s depressive symptoms suggest the possibility of a mood disorder due to a general medical condition. She needs a medical examination. If the initial clinician is a psychiatrist, then this clinician has omitted a good medical review of systems. This omission will need to be rectified. Pertinent laboratory work will be ordered, and a physical examination may be indicated.


But the exploration of non-psychiatric medical conditions does not end here. The history of episodic violence may suggest an underlying seizure disorder (caused by head trauma) that may have been routinely missed by previous clinicians. Once again, the interviewer will want to ask questions pertinent to this diagnosis and may consider ordering an electroencephalogram (EEG) or referral to a neurologist. Her worsening of symptoms near her menstrual periods also adds the possibility of a premenstrual dysphoric disorder, which may suggest the use of medications to relieve cramping and an antianxiety agent used for a day or two near her periods to decrease her premenstrual tension or the addition of a low-dose selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) antidepressant.


A final medical consideration concerns Debbie’s obesity. One wonders whether there may be an organic etiology for her obesity, such as hypothyroidism or polycystic ovarian disorder. One also wonders as to whether her weight represents a powerful psychological concern, which she was hesitant to discuss because of stigma.


Even though there is no specific axis devoted to assessing psychosocial factors, as mentioned earlier the DSM-5 system suggests that a careful exploration of psychosocial factors should be a part of any evaluation. With regard to Debbie, one questions what the impact of the upcoming wedding will be. Even for the most stable of people, weddings are stressful. Her wedding stresses may be further amplified by cultural bigotries related to same-sex marriage, once again an arena for supportive counseling in future sessions. A review of psychosocial factors also indicates that the interviewer has not explored current stressors very well yet. With regard to triage and the determination of when Debbie should be seen next, it would be useful for the interviewer to have a much clearer picture of the current stressors.


Regarding Debbie’s current functioning, the information is sparse here, reflecting a relative weakness in the database thus far collected. Keep in mind that such database weaknesses are common, and inevitable, in initial interviews, for there is not enough time to collect a perfect database. But it is our diagnostic perspective that prompts us to recognize these weak areas, a recognition that will allow us to explore these important topics in future sessions. A more thorough examination of current functioning would be of value in determining disposition. One also wonders what skills Debbie may possess that may be utilized in her treatment. For instance, her possibly overactive fantasy life, if toned down, may represent a fertile imagination, which could be an asset in her development as an individual. Current functioning and the availability of immediate social supports clearly warrant further exploration.


The above discussion illustrates the immense power of diagnostic systems such as the DSM-5 or the ICD-10 as methods of organizing data in a fashion that generates treatment options and also for “pointing out” areas of important clinical information that may have been overlooked. In addition, if utilized as intended, a clinician employing the DSM-5 system should be routinely looking for the person beneath the diagnosis by better understanding the patient’s personality functioning, biological health, and the complexities of the patient’s psychosocial and environmental stresses.


But these factors may be under-emphasized or overlooked by clinicians because of the absence of specific axes emphasizing their inherent importance in the DSM-5 system. In addition, there are other elements of a holistic assessment (such as spirituality, family dynamics, and cross-cultural nuance) not emphasized by the system. Consequently, even when used as intended, in my opinion, this assessment perspective alone can yield an incomplete picture of the patient. We will now turn to an assessment system that directly focuses upon the areas of relative weakness in the DSM-5, perspectives that may provide us with new insights into Debbie and how to help her.



Matrix Treatment Planning



Nothing exists in isolation. Whether a cell or a person, every system is influenced by the configuration of the systems of which each is a part, that is, by its environment.


George L. Engel17



Introduction


Matrix treatment planning provides a stimulating and practical method of organizing and utilizing the data gained from the initial interview that complements the DSM-5 or the ICD-10. The term “matrix treatment planning,” which I am introducing to the clinical literature in this chapter, is a recent term that I prefer to the more standard and traditionally accepted term “biopsychosocial treatment planning.” They describe the same system.


Although they describe the same system, as we shall soon see, I believe there are advantages to the newer term and the re-emphasis it places upon the interactional principles behind the biopsychosocial model as it was first delineated.


The goal in this section is to provide the initial interviewer with a reasonable conceptualization of what matrix treatment planning offers, how it is used, and its ramifications concerning what information needs to be gathered in an initial interview (as well as during ongoing psychotherapy). To accomplish this task in the sophisticated fashion that it warrants, we will examine exactly what is meant by matrix treatment planning, including the ideas from which it evolved (the biopsychosocial model) and from which it is still evolving.


As with our exploration of the DSM-5 system, there is no attempt to describe the pros and cons of specific treatment interventions here. Rather, the intention is to describe how to maximize the use of matrix treatment planning during the collaborative planning undertaken with the patient in the closing phase of the interview. Although not the intention of this chapter, I believe the reader will find that these principles will also be of use in long-term treatment planning.


Indeed, initially, our exploration of matrix treatment planning will require a somewhat extended side-trip from our interviewing map. The type of sophisticated understanding that a clinician needs in order to effectively undertake collaborative treatment planning, in the closing phase of the initial interview, will demand a focused attention upon some of the core principles of treatment planning itself.


Before we begin our exploration of the interface between the initial interview and matrix treatment planning, I would like to add a cautionary note to the reader. At times, some of the nuances of matrix treatment planning may appear somewhat complex, perhaps even overwhelming. Truth be told, they are complex. They are also intricate, delicate, and richly practical.


The goal of this chapter is not for the beginning student to understand and be able to immediately utilize all of the principles of matrix treatment planning delineated in the following pages. The goal is to leave the reader with a fascination and a genuine appreciation of the power of matrix treatment planning to heal. If successful, the reader will leave the chapter with a lively motivation to learn how to effectively employ the concept of the human matrix.


As you read, you will develop a sophisticated understanding of how matrix treatment planning principles can be elegantly interwoven into the initial intake. I believe it is important, in a beginning course on interviewing, to immediately see how this integration is gracefully achieved by a skilled interviewer, so as to have a model from which to work from the very beginning of your initiation into clinical interviewing.


As you continue into your more advanced years of training, you will participate in a variety of courses, internships, and clinical rotations that will provide you ample opportunities to learn how to implement the principles described in the following pages. Indeed, it is my hope that in the remaining years of your training (and post-training) you will frequently return to this chapter to help you integrate the many new skills you will be encountering.


Thus, sit back and enjoy the ride. The following pages describing the interface between the initial interview and matrix treatment planning are intended to provide an enticing and practical preview of the process. Nothing more. It will hopefully provide, in the years to come, a goal towards which you can work and a model from which you can more easily achieve that goal.

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May 13, 2017 | Posted by in PSYCHIATRY | Comments Off on Assessment Perspectives and the Human Matrix

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