Making a Habit of Positive Change
By Seth LaFlamme, Life University D.C. Student
There’s a lot of talk out there about today being the best time ever to be a chiropractor. It’s easy, while in school, to have a difficult time seeing that fact. As we are all aware, the healthcare industry in our country (which we would posit as the sick care industry) is failing the United States miserably, and contributing a great deal to bankrupting us as a bonus. Things are ripe for a change, and the question then becomes, “In what shape will that change arrive?” To a large extent, that will be determined by the next generation of leaders in chiropractic, and how they are able to guide us in molding the nature of that change. It would make sense, then, to have strong people at the forefront who understand the chinks in the current system, possess a strong vision for where it needs to go, and have a strong tolerance for change in their own lives. In that case, who better than a former pharmaceutical sales rep whose path to Life University started with nick-of-time salvation from Harrington rod surgery, wound through the dusty basement libraries of hospitals, and led to him selling all his worldly goods, and moving to the opposite end of the country to do what’s right? Who better than Jason Olafsson?
By his own admission, Jason was raised in a family that held a firm adherence to the medical model. “I was raised in a small town in Michigan, and in that town – it’s called Clarkston – and in that town everybody goes to the same doctor, and if you get sick, you’re put on penicillin, no matter what you’ve got,” he says, breaking into a wide, full-face smile, and eyeing the voice recorder on the table between us, as if amused that he’s worthy of an interview. It is a reaction that’s not shy or wary, but truly, honestly surprised by the recognition. He goes on to talk about being diagnosed with a twenty-two or twenty-three degree progressive scoliosis at the age of seven. It was at a twice-yearly visit to the orthopedic surgeon when Jason’s family learned that the only option for Jason was a back brace until the age of eighteen, and then Harrington rod surgery.
It was then that something shifted, and Jason’s mother – in his words – said, “I’m not going to do that.” The orthopedist also told her under no circumstances to take Jason to a chiropractor. Eager to find any other solution, she did just the opposite since the orthopedist didn’t seem to be able to help. The chiropractor succeeded in reducing Jason’s scoliosis such that at the next six-month appointment with the orthopedist, the scoliosis had been reduced to eight degrees, and that was the last appointment with the orthopedist for them. Three or four years of care later, and his curvature was reduced to two degrees. A seed was planted, although the chiropractor was still just the “back doctor” in Jason’s eyes.
Jason admits he had thought about becoming a chiropractor then, but when he got into college, the extra four years of school seemed a little excessive, and he went into the sales field after earning his bachelor’s in business. Still interested in helping others somehow through his work, about two years out of school Jason was introduced to the idea of becoming a drug rep. Great pay, a job related to health care, benefits and a company car; it was truly an offer he couldn’t refuse.
At first, the work was great. “When I got into the field I loved my job. The managers were hands-off – you get in your car at eight in the morning and come back at five at night, and you basically just go talk to people. You bring an office lunch and take doctors out for really expensive dinners at night.” After a little while, Jason noticed doctors would start insinuating he hadn’t spent enough money on them to get them to prescribe his drug. That was when some of the experienced hands from the industry clued him in that a doctor’s back pocket is sometimes the key to deciding what drug he will prescribe. One technique to do that was to hold “round table discussions” on diabetes (the class of drug Jason worked with), where one doctor was a paid “moderator.” The doctor who acted as moderator was paid for basically a fun night out to the tune of around $1000 to essentially plug the drug to his friends in a short talk before dinner. This job would rotate so everyone got their turn. Jason’s budget for all this (Meals, “round tables,” etc.): around $40,000 per year.
It was about that time when he started to think maybe it wasn’t about patient care, but, “how much can I spend on these guys; how many dinners can I bring them to; how many lunches can I bring into their office and how much am I spending on them?” Those types of considerations, in Jason’s estimation, were what drove 95% of the business in his territory. Other techniques, such as covering negative aspects to a drug on a fact sheet with one’s thumb added fuel to the fire. It was then that, since he was good at his job and able to complete his day in four or five hours, he started spending time in the libraries located in various hospital basements.
While there, leafing through endocrinology and diabetes journals and the like, Jason gradually started piecing together an alarming picture of business-driven patient care. His company’s rule was to heavily push for early administration of their drug (a form of insulin); and the carefully constructed studies seemed to show this application of the company’s drug helped patients much more than other pharmaceuticals or methods of treatment. However, the studies were all skewed, according to Jason. The experimental group often got diet and exercise modifications (which kept weight gain and other ill effects at bay) along with the drug. The studies were not true head-to-head comparisons of competing drugs and treatment methods at all; they were carefully constructed setups to make his product shine and others fail. Further, he uncovered a shocking pattern: early insulin administration to a moderately overweight type II diabetic patient led to more weight gain which led to greater insulin resistance in a surprisingly backward, self-feeding cycle. This led to a decrease, rather than an increase in patient well-being. The result was greater dependence on the diabetes drug. It was not too long before the other shoe dropped.
“I was sitting in a meeting, and my manager said, ‘You know, the best thing about our drug is that once a patient gets on it, they’re on it for the rest of their lives, and we make money on every script,’ and I about fell off my chair.” He continues, “I just was blown away, and I was still going to my chiropractor – my back doctor – and he gave me Virgil Strang’s Essential Principles of Chiropractic.” A few days later, Jason returned the book to his “back doctor,” jazzed about what he had read (cover to cover), and full of renewed passion for his original career goals. He was amazed he’d never heard of this aspect of chiropractic before, and was excited to talk about it. Jason had walked in thinking he would ask his doc about being a chiropractor. As he handed back the book, before he could say more than how much he had loved it, the chiropractor beat him to the punch, and said, “You should be a chiropractor.” The timing couldn’t have been any better.
It was a bolt from the blue. Jason and his wife sold their house and cars, left their jobs, and moved down to Atlanta so he could go to Life. Here at school, Jason is not just a student, and a husband, and a father of two, but also runs a CARES team (caresteam.org) with his wife, Juliet, in association with Apartment Life. Together, they organize events and foster a feeling of community at apartment complexes. The reasoning behind CARES is that, according to a recent Gallup poll, apartment complexes are among the loneliest places a person can live, and more than half of city residents live this way. For someone so passionate about people, an after-school job like this makes perfect sense.
Somehow, he also finds time to lift weights, catch the Detroit Lions games on TV, get in family time, and talk philosophy with his fellow students. When I ask him what motivates him to get up every day, he doesn’t miss a beat saying, “My passion for people and my passion for my future patients.” Clearly, to Jason it’s not about him at all, but about service and touching the community.
So, is now a better time than ever to become a chiropractor? With devoted, people-focused, principle- and purpose-driven future DC’s like Jason and many others coming through Life University right now, what choice have we but to look forward to the bright potential the future holds?
