BehindTheMedspeak: Rick James - 'He didn't die of a drug overdose.'

Really?

So said the Los Angeles County Coroner's office Thursday last, releasing the autopsy results.

The coroner's office emphasized that "none of the nine drugs (alprazolam (Xanax), diazepam (Valium), bupropion (Wellbutrin), citalopram (Celexa), hydrocodone (Vicodin), digoxin, chlorpheniramine, methamphetamine and cocaine) found circulating in his system was found to be at a life-threatening level."

That's interesting.

Let's play a game.

Suppose the life-threatening level of each of those drugs is 10.

And suppose, for the sake of argument, each of the nine drugs in James' bloodstream at the time of the autopsy had a level of 2.

Two's not so bad; not life-threatening, not even close.

2 x 9 = 18.

Is 18 > 10?

You do the math.

As one who routinely administers potentially fatal drugs IV as part of my daily routine in the operating room, I find it laughable that the coroner's office would conclude that James died of "acute cardiac dysfunction [a heart attack] due to idiopathic cardiomyapathy."

Let's take a look at the Medspeak in the previous sentence.

Because that's what we do here, when we go "BehindTheMedspeak." But I digress.

Everyone dies of "acute cardiac dysfunction" - in the end.

Everyone who's ever lived on this earth, and everyone alive today - yes, alas, even vous et moi - will die of "acute cardiac dysfuntion."

Because that's just a fancy-pants/white coat term for "your heart stops beating."

"Idiopathic cardiomyopathy" means James' heart was enlarged, but they can't say why.

Doesn't mean much.

Most professional athletes have this condition, as well as lots of recreational runners.

No, James died of a combined drug overdose.

Trust me on this: I'm a doctor.

James, who sang "Super Freak'' and other hits, died on August 6 at his home in Los Angeles. He was 56.