I am an evidenced-based cat. How did I get that way? Like many of my human colleagues, I started out as a stray, wandering here and there, looking for something substantial to sink my teeth into. Then, one cold December morning in 2005 a PT tech rescued me from under his front porch and took me to work. That was my first day of clinical education. Of course, my patient contact was limited by those pesky Medicare regulations, and so I was relegated to assisting the tech with folding laundry. (I still have a soft spot in my heart for warm towels just out of the dryer.) The boss named me Smokey (that’s Smokey with an “e;” the “e” stands for evidence) and she took me home, where I proceeded to disrupt the entire household, especially the two older pre-existing cats. I entered the house and the other cats “educated” me. This is what is meant by entry-level education. The PT is now my guardian. (Guardian is a politically correct euphemism for “the lady who pays the mortgage, buys my food, and changes the litter box.) Anyway, I settled in and worked very hard to earn the respect of my older siblings. Then my guardian decided that we should enroll in the Regis tDPT program, and I became her mentor. And here we are.
One of my main areas of interest is the lumbar spine. (If you had 7 lumbar vertebrae, you would be interested in the lumbar spine, too.) Anyway, I am particularly interested in the nuances of the clinical decision making process, and so I am well versed in the CPR that everyone is talking about. I am speaking of course of the Cat Prediction Rule, which states that if you have one cat, you will be happy, if you have two cats, you will be happier, and if you have 3 or more cats, you will be happiest. The evidence is quite clear on this—just check the litter-ature.
So, the Obamas should get a cat, right? In fact, the CPR says they should get 3 or more cats. Right? Alas, no, and here is where the “conscientious, explicit, and judicious use of current best evidence in making decisions about the care of individual patients” comes in. (Please, no jokes about thinking “outside the box” as that is a bit of a sore spot at home.) It seems that little Malia is allergic to cats and dogs, and so a hypoallergenic dog was required. So, despite the Cat Prediction Rule that shows that the vast majority of people would be happy with a cat, and the more cats the happier, in this instance a cat is simply contraindicated. And some day, when stem cell research helps find a cure for feline dander allergy, Malia and Sasha can finally get those cats! On a personal note, I would like to point out that Bo sports a tuxedo look and two white front paws remarkably similar to my own. As a fellow quadruped, I wish Bo Obama well, and I hope he is able to remain above the political fray, avoiding any White House leaks, unwanted stimulus "packages," or other adverse outcomes. (A word to the wise, Bo--finding evidence and leaving evidence are two entirely different concepts.) And, The New York Times reports that Bo is actually named after an Obama relative’s cat—now that’s what I call reaching across the aisle!
I'm Smokey the Evidence-Based Cat, and these are Shades of Gray.