Opinion

Here we are. Again. It’s cold and it’s gray. The sun rises late and sets early, so that it feels like midnight by 8 p.m. Indoor venues are risky with the highly contagious Omicron variant, and I feel like we are all pushing the replay button on 2021’s miserable winter.

In some ways, it’s worse: In 2021 we had the hope that vaccines would pull us out of the pandemic and we had guidance on all that we should not be doing. In January, we were gaming the various Internet sites to get a coveted vaccine for ourselves or our family and friends, then lining up to get jabbed. We did not yet know that it wouldn’t be enough – that we’d need boosters, that Delta and Omicron would defy the vaccines. Yes, the vaccines work miracles to prevent severe disease and death, but the worry of passing the virus to someone who is vulnerable or unvaccinated(!), or both, remains – and now we can wonder how we’ll ever get out of this mess with hopeful talk of an endemic, while we wait on the next variant. I like certainty, and this pandemic is one big screaming reminder that certainty about anything is just a pleasant notion, death and taxes excluded, of course.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Kris Lukish, vice president of human resources at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, started an update to the hospital employees with: “As we begin 2022, it feels like we are experiencing dejà vu, or ‘Groundhog Day,’ or ‘50 First Dates.’ In ‘50 First Dates,’ Drew Barrymore wakes up each day reliving one specific day. It never changes. I realize our world may seem a little like that right now. We thought we’d turned a corner with COVID, and instead we saw a rapid rise in cases and hospitalizations due to the Omicron variant, higher than in previous surges.”

In 2021, many of us skipped holiday travel and ate outdoors. My morning coffee group moved to Zoom and it wasn’t until late spring, when community rates of COVID nose-dived, that I began seeing patients in my office for the first time in over a year. Since many of my patients are over 60, I tested myself with a home antigen test before going into the office. I changed my schedule so sessions began on the half-hour to be sure the suite’s waiting room would be empty, and I purchased an air purifier, cracked the window open, and figured everyone was as safe as we could reasonably be.

By the first Monday in January 2022, the positivity rate in Maryland was just shy of 30%. Twitter circulated anecdotes about false negatives with the home antigen test kits, and I decided it was safest to return to all-virtual appointments.

Mona Masood, DO, is cofounder of the Physician Support Line, a call-in service for doctors that started in March 2020. She has noted a change in the problems physicians face.

“We’re seeing a lot of empathy fatigue,” Dr. Masood said. “It’s not unexpected with a prolonged situation like this – the trauma has doctors in survival mode and they need to be present for themselves, their families, and their patients. People are emotionally drained, and we’re stretching them to the limit. Now at the front lines, doctors are getting a lot of backlash. There are the conspiracy theories, and people who challenge their knowledge and training and it leads them to ask if they should be doing this work. Some callers are thinking about leaving medicine and asking: ‘Is this what I signed up for?’ and these are large decisions that are being made in a specific context.

“The other thing we’re hearing is from trainees – residents and fellows – who are expected to carry a lot of work on the COVID units. Some are being told that they can’t graduate because they haven’t finished their other training requirements. This type of systemic issue produces moral injury.”

Dr. Masood talked about what running the support line has been like for her. “I know people want to give more in a catastrophe, and I was realistic that the enthusiasm might die off. I would go as long as psychiatrists volunteer, and the most incredible thing is that it hasn’t stopped. Some of the original people are no longer with us, but others have come aboard, and it’s been incredible to be a part of this.”

In her Jan. 26, 2022, newsletter, epidemiologist Katelyn Jetelina, PhD, MPH, tried to be reassuring about the future. “In order to know how this will end, we need to look at how other pandemics ended,” Dr. Jetelina wrote. “First, recognize the last part of that sentence ... pandemics end. Every epi curve comes down. This pandemic will end, too. Hold that fact close to you.”

She wrote about the three ways that pandemics end. The SARS pandemic of 2002 lasted 1.5 years as public health measures were effective, in large part because the disease was spread only by symptomatic patients. Vaccines offer a second way to end pandemics, as they have for polio and smallpox. “If the globe works together, we could possibly eradicate SARS-CoV-2 with vaccines. [Now that we have numerous animal reservoirs, though, this is close to impossible.]”

Finally, Dr. Jetelina noted that the 1918 flu changed from a pandemic situation to being endemic. “Over time, the virus attenuated, it became less severe.” Society acclimates to a virus with a low mortality rate. “The vast majority of scientists think an endemic state is the future of SARS-CoV-2. I agree.” And she goes on to define endemic as a steady state, but not the absence of suffering. She likens it to malaria and tuberculosis, illnesses with high global mortality.

“An endemic will come without an announcement or headlines, we won’t know we’re there until well after we’ve arrived.” She wrote of the uncertainty that faces us moving forward: We don’t know how much, or how long, immunity from Omicron infections will last, or if future variants will cause more or less severe disease. She casted her vote for global vaccinations, boosters, masks, better ventilation, communication, empathy, and tolerance to end the pandemic.

In Maryland, hospitalizations and positivity are starting to decline from the postholiday surge. I have figured out that I am not good at predicting what will happen next, and the experts don’t seem to be much better. I’d like a headline ending, the kind we looked to be heading toward last June.

I’ve told my patients who want to come in person that I will reassess in March. We have written our own rules, and mine are somewhere in the middle – I don’t go to public indoor spaces unmasked, but I do see vaccinated family and friends in our homes without masks. I don’t want to be responsible for transmitting a potentially fatal illness to a vulnerable patient. Honestly, this makes no sense, but since there is a video option, I feel I should not risk passing a potentially lethal virus to my patients. I just hope I’m not writing this same article again in January 2023.

Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins. Dr. Miller has no conflicts of interest.

Here we are. Again. It’s cold and it’s gray. The sun rises late and sets early, so that it feels like midnight by 8 p.m. Indoor venues are risky with the highly contagious Omicron variant, and I feel like we are all pushing the replay button on 2021’s miserable winter.

In some ways, it’s worse: In 2021 we had the hope that vaccines would pull us out of the pandemic and we had guidance on all that we should not be doing. In January, we were gaming the various Internet sites to get a coveted vaccine for ourselves or our family and friends, then lining up to get jabbed. We did not yet know that it wouldn’t be enough – that we’d need boosters, that Delta and Omicron would defy the vaccines. Yes, the vaccines work miracles to prevent severe disease and death, but the worry of passing the virus to someone who is vulnerable or unvaccinated(!), or both, remains – and now we can wonder how we’ll ever get out of this mess with hopeful talk of an endemic, while we wait on the next variant. I like certainty, and this pandemic is one big screaming reminder that certainty about anything is just a pleasant notion, death and taxes excluded, of course.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Kris Lukish, vice president of human resources at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, started an update to the hospital employees with: “As we begin 2022, it feels like we are experiencing dejà vu, or ‘Groundhog Day,’ or ‘50 First Dates.’ In ‘50 First Dates,’ Drew Barrymore wakes up each day reliving one specific day. It never changes. I realize our world may seem a little like that right now. We thought we’d turned a corner with COVID, and instead we saw a rapid rise in cases and hospitalizations due to the Omicron variant, higher than in previous surges.”

In 2021, many of us skipped holiday travel and ate outdoors. My morning coffee group moved to Zoom and it wasn’t until late spring, when community rates of COVID nose-dived, that I began seeing patients in my office for the first time in over a year. Since many of my patients are over 60, I tested myself with a home antigen test before going into the office. I changed my schedule so sessions began on the half-hour to be sure the suite’s waiting room would be empty, and I purchased an air purifier, cracked the window open, and figured everyone was as safe as we could reasonably be.

By the first Monday in January 2022, the positivity rate in Maryland was just shy of 30%. Twitter circulated anecdotes about false negatives with the home antigen test kits, and I decided it was safest to return to all-virtual appointments.

Mona Masood, DO, is cofounder of the Physician Support Line, a call-in service for doctors that started in March 2020. She has noted a change in the problems physicians face.

“We’re seeing a lot of empathy fatigue,” Dr. Masood said. “It’s not unexpected with a prolonged situation like this – the trauma has doctors in survival mode and they need to be present for themselves, their families, and their patients. People are emotionally drained, and we’re stretching them to the limit. Now at the front lines, doctors are getting a lot of backlash. There are the conspiracy theories, and people who challenge their knowledge and training and it leads them to ask if they should be doing this work. Some callers are thinking about leaving medicine and asking: ‘Is this what I signed up for?’ and these are large decisions that are being made in a specific context.

“The other thing we’re hearing is from trainees – residents and fellows – who are expected to carry a lot of work on the COVID units. Some are being told that they can’t graduate because they haven’t finished their other training requirements. This type of systemic issue produces moral injury.”

Dr. Masood talked about what running the support line has been like for her. “I know people want to give more in a catastrophe, and I was realistic that the enthusiasm might die off. I would go as long as psychiatrists volunteer, and the most incredible thing is that it hasn’t stopped. Some of the original people are no longer with us, but others have come aboard, and it’s been incredible to be a part of this.”

In her Jan. 26, 2022, newsletter, epidemiologist Katelyn Jetelina, PhD, MPH, tried to be reassuring about the future. “In order to know how this will end, we need to look at how other pandemics ended,” Dr. Jetelina wrote. “First, recognize the last part of that sentence ... pandemics end. Every epi curve comes down. This pandemic will end, too. Hold that fact close to you.”

She wrote about the three ways that pandemics end. The SARS pandemic of 2002 lasted 1.5 years as public health measures were effective, in large part because the disease was spread only by symptomatic patients. Vaccines offer a second way to end pandemics, as they have for polio and smallpox. “If the globe works together, we could possibly eradicate SARS-CoV-2 with vaccines. [Now that we have numerous animal reservoirs, though, this is close to impossible.]”

Finally, Dr. Jetelina noted that the 1918 flu changed from a pandemic situation to being endemic. “Over time, the virus attenuated, it became less severe.” Society acclimates to a virus with a low mortality rate. “The vast majority of scientists think an endemic state is the future of SARS-CoV-2. I agree.” And she goes on to define endemic as a steady state, but not the absence of suffering. She likens it to malaria and tuberculosis, illnesses with high global mortality.

“An endemic will come without an announcement or headlines, we won’t know we’re there until well after we’ve arrived.” She wrote of the uncertainty that faces us moving forward: We don’t know how much, or how long, immunity from Omicron infections will last, or if future variants will cause more or less severe disease. She casted her vote for global vaccinations, boosters, masks, better ventilation, communication, empathy, and tolerance to end the pandemic.

In Maryland, hospitalizations and positivity are starting to decline from the postholiday surge. I have figured out that I am not good at predicting what will happen next, and the experts don’t seem to be much better. I’d like a headline ending, the kind we looked to be heading toward last June.

I’ve told my patients who want to come in person that I will reassess in March. We have written our own rules, and mine are somewhere in the middle – I don’t go to public indoor spaces unmasked, but I do see vaccinated family and friends in our homes without masks. I don’t want to be responsible for transmitting a potentially fatal illness to a vulnerable patient. Honestly, this makes no sense, but since there is a video option, I feel I should not risk passing a potentially lethal virus to my patients. I just hope I’m not writing this same article again in January 2023.

Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins. Dr. Miller has no conflicts of interest.

Here we are. Again. It’s cold and it’s gray. The sun rises late and sets early, so that it feels like midnight by 8 p.m. Indoor venues are risky with the highly contagious Omicron variant, and I feel like we are all pushing the replay button on 2021’s miserable winter.

In some ways, it’s worse: In 2021 we had the hope that vaccines would pull us out of the pandemic and we had guidance on all that we should not be doing. In January, we were gaming the various Internet sites to get a coveted vaccine for ourselves or our family and friends, then lining up to get jabbed. We did not yet know that it wouldn’t be enough – that we’d need boosters, that Delta and Omicron would defy the vaccines. Yes, the vaccines work miracles to prevent severe disease and death, but the worry of passing the virus to someone who is vulnerable or unvaccinated(!), or both, remains – and now we can wonder how we’ll ever get out of this mess with hopeful talk of an endemic, while we wait on the next variant. I like certainty, and this pandemic is one big screaming reminder that certainty about anything is just a pleasant notion, death and taxes excluded, of course.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Kris Lukish, vice president of human resources at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, started an update to the hospital employees with: “As we begin 2022, it feels like we are experiencing dejà vu, or ‘Groundhog Day,’ or ‘50 First Dates.’ In ‘50 First Dates,’ Drew Barrymore wakes up each day reliving one specific day. It never changes. I realize our world may seem a little like that right now. We thought we’d turned a corner with COVID, and instead we saw a rapid rise in cases and hospitalizations due to the Omicron variant, higher than in previous surges.”

In 2021, many of us skipped holiday travel and ate outdoors. My morning coffee group moved to Zoom and it wasn’t until late spring, when community rates of COVID nose-dived, that I began seeing patients in my office for the first time in over a year. Since many of my patients are over 60, I tested myself with a home antigen test before going into the office. I changed my schedule so sessions began on the half-hour to be sure the suite’s waiting room would be empty, and I purchased an air purifier, cracked the window open, and figured everyone was as safe as we could reasonably be.

By the first Monday in January 2022, the positivity rate in Maryland was just shy of 30%. Twitter circulated anecdotes about false negatives with the home antigen test kits, and I decided it was safest to return to all-virtual appointments.

Mona Masood, DO, is cofounder of the Physician Support Line, a call-in service for doctors that started in March 2020. She has noted a change in the problems physicians face.

“We’re seeing a lot of empathy fatigue,” Dr. Masood said. “It’s not unexpected with a prolonged situation like this – the trauma has doctors in survival mode and they need to be present for themselves, their families, and their patients. People are emotionally drained, and we’re stretching them to the limit. Now at the front lines, doctors are getting a lot of backlash. There are the conspiracy theories, and people who challenge their knowledge and training and it leads them to ask if they should be doing this work. Some callers are thinking about leaving medicine and asking: ‘Is this what I signed up for?’ and these are large decisions that are being made in a specific context.

“The other thing we’re hearing is from trainees – residents and fellows – who are expected to carry a lot of work on the COVID units. Some are being told that they can’t graduate because they haven’t finished their other training requirements. This type of systemic issue produces moral injury.”

Dr. Masood talked about what running the support line has been like for her. “I know people want to give more in a catastrophe, and I was realistic that the enthusiasm might die off. I would go as long as psychiatrists volunteer, and the most incredible thing is that it hasn’t stopped. Some of the original people are no longer with us, but others have come aboard, and it’s been incredible to be a part of this.”

In her Jan. 26, 2022, newsletter, epidemiologist Katelyn Jetelina, PhD, MPH, tried to be reassuring about the future. “In order to know how this will end, we need to look at how other pandemics ended,” Dr. Jetelina wrote. “First, recognize the last part of that sentence ... pandemics end. Every epi curve comes down. This pandemic will end, too. Hold that fact close to you.”

She wrote about the three ways that pandemics end. The SARS pandemic of 2002 lasted 1.5 years as public health measures were effective, in large part because the disease was spread only by symptomatic patients. Vaccines offer a second way to end pandemics, as they have for polio and smallpox. “If the globe works together, we could possibly eradicate SARS-CoV-2 with vaccines. [Now that we have numerous animal reservoirs, though, this is close to impossible.]”

Finally, Dr. Jetelina noted that the 1918 flu changed from a pandemic situation to being endemic. “Over time, the virus attenuated, it became less severe.” Society acclimates to a virus with a low mortality rate. “The vast majority of scientists think an endemic state is the future of SARS-CoV-2. I agree.” And she goes on to define endemic as a steady state, but not the absence of suffering. She likens it to malaria and tuberculosis, illnesses with high global mortality.

“An endemic will come without an announcement or headlines, we won’t know we’re there until well after we’ve arrived.” She wrote of the uncertainty that faces us moving forward: We don’t know how much, or how long, immunity from Omicron infections will last, or if future variants will cause more or less severe disease. She casted her vote for global vaccinations, boosters, masks, better ventilation, communication, empathy, and tolerance to end the pandemic.

In Maryland, hospitalizations and positivity are starting to decline from the postholiday surge. I have figured out that I am not good at predicting what will happen next, and the experts don’t seem to be much better. I’d like a headline ending, the kind we looked to be heading toward last June.

I’ve told my patients who want to come in person that I will reassess in March. We have written our own rules, and mine are somewhere in the middle – I don’t go to public indoor spaces unmasked, but I do see vaccinated family and friends in our homes without masks. I don’t want to be responsible for transmitting a potentially fatal illness to a vulnerable patient. Honestly, this makes no sense, but since there is a video option, I feel I should not risk passing a potentially lethal virus to my patients. I just hope I’m not writing this same article again in January 2023.

Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins. Dr. Miller has no conflicts of interest.

A recent STAT article by Usha Lee McFarling identified orthopedic surgery as “the whitest specialty.” That’s a problem many, perhaps most, orthopedic surgeons are aware of. But seeing it stated so bluntly is jolting. It’s disconcerting to think that the orthopedic community is making so little progress toward achieving the principal ideal articulated in our country’s fundamental declaration of moral values: that all people are created equal and that they have inalienable rights – in our case, that everyone, Black, brown, as well as White, has the right to the same high level of medical care.

Unfortunately, as study after study has shown, minorities do not enjoy the right to equitable care. Instead, they are subject to disparities in treatment and outcomes that speak to the prejudices that are built into the health care system and are present – sometimes consciously, but most often subconsciously – in the minds of physicians. One important contributing element to these disparities is the paucity of minority practitioners. Studies have also shown that Black patients, for example, respond better to Black physicians, who so often share a psychological and cultural sympathy unavailable to most White physicians. It’s for that reason that being identified as “the whitest specialty” is so immensely troubling.

In researching her STAT article, Ms. McFarling spoke with American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons leaders, practicing surgeons, residents, and med students about the dearth of minority and female orthopedic surgeons. What she heard was perplexity and frustration about why better progress hasn’t been made toward correcting the gross underrepresentation of everyone other than White men. The AAOS, she noted, was one of the first specialties to recognize the lack of diversity and over the years has put in great effort to address the problem, creating task forces, committees, and diversity awards and sponsoring conferences and discussions. Yet progress has been glacial, at best.

From her respondents, Ms. McFarling heard an array of reasons for this. Black, Hispanic, and Native American persons are underrepresented in medical schools, so the pool of potential applicants for orthopedic residencies is shallow to begin with. STEM studies are notoriously inadequate in poorer primary and secondary schools, in which so many minority students are educated. The MCAT and USMLE Step 1 test, which play a role in acceptance to residencies, have been shown to be biased. The specialty has few Black or brown role models and, consequently, few advocates and a lack of mentorship. Overt bias may be fairly rare (though microaggressions are still a common and ongoing problem), but most minority and female orthopedic surgeons feel strongly that implicit or subconscious bias is entrenched and works against acceptance to residencies, success in residencies, and advancement in the field.

One of this article’s authors (AW) saw all these factors at work as a resident, then as an admissions committee member at both Yale and Harvard. But the fact is that other medical specialties face exactly these problems and barriers, and yet have been substantially more successful in overcoming them.

What seems to be distinctive about orthopedics is that the mindset which perpetuated (and still perpetuates) the old, lily-white, male predominance in medicine seems stronger, more ingrained, and more resistant to change than it is among physicians in other specialties. In this regard, Kristy Weber, MD, the first female president of the AAOS, told Ms. McFarling that the critical first step to bringing in more women or people of color is changing the culture. There seems to be a consensus about that.

So, what does that mean, given that the AAOS has made serious efforts in that regard that have clearly been less than effective?

The answer, as we see it, is first – to not give in to frustration. The time frames involved in changing customary states of mind are typically elongated, and the deeper the habituation, the longer transformation takes. Deep changes always mean a long, hard slog. For transformations of this sort to take place, the requirements are a general agreement on the value of the transformation, exposure to the destructive consequences of the customary modus operandi, and persuasion for why change needs to happen.

In orthopedics, the first requirement has been met. The AAOS espouses diversity and inclusion as a high-level value. In terms of the second two requirements – exposure and persuasion – orthopedic surgeons have been witness to events, campaigns, conferences, et cetera. But these have not been enough, which means that efforts need to be focused, enlarged, sustained, determined, and innovative.

Does the orthopedic surgery community have the ability to do that?

The answer is: Yes, it does.

Currently the orthopedic surgeon community boasts a number of organizations, groups, and individuals pushing for change, in addition to the AAOS’s Diversity Advisory Board. The predominantly African American J. Robert Gladden Orthopaedic Society, the Ruth Jackson Orthopaedic Society of female orthopedic physicians, and the Association of Latino Orthopaedic Surgeons are all energetic advocates, as is Nth Dimensions, the Perry Initiative, and various ad hoc and individual endeavors.

These are all strong proponents for their own groups in their own way. But history has shown in so many cases that concerted rather than individual action empowers advocacy, and what orthopedic surgery needs in its current situation of gross underrepresentation of minorities and women is an enhanced campaign to raise awareness and redouble persuasion.

One of many examples of the power of collective action is the Association of Minority Health Professions Schools founded by Dr. Louis Sullivan in 1977.* Dr. Sullivan (later secretary of the Department of Health & Human Services) was at that time the founding dean of Morehouse School of Medicine. Morehouse had been launched on a shoestring and needed funding urgently. Other Black health schools, such as Meharry Medical College and Tuskegee College of Veterinary Medicine, were in even more pressing financial need. The coalition of schools that Dr. Sullivan organized became a powerful force in Congress and the National Institutes of Health, magnitudes more effective in raising funds from government and other sources than the best individual efforts of the separate institutions.

Dr. Sullivan’s association is only one of a multitude of historical examples of the effectiveness of unified action. AAOS currently has no single officer charged with bringing together the efforts of the change assets that already exist. It could, perhaps should, have someone in that position. AAOS could invest that same office with a mandate to survey the other medical specialties and bring to bear the most effective diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) practices in their arsenals.

Finally, despite the attention AAOS has brought to DEI needs, a look at the organization’s strategic goals, its core values, and its “key enablers” finds not a single mention of diversity or inclusion. Given the country’s current focus on the need for equality, given the poor performance of the orthopedic surgery specialty in terms of inclusion, the obvious question is: Should there not be an official declaration positing diversity as a primary AAOS desideratum?

There is recent precedent for this in the American College of Physicians/American Board of Internal Medicine’s Physician Charter on Professionalism, which includes “social justice” as a primary goal of medical practice. This highlights and reinforces the humanitarian strivings of the profession. In light of the paralysis illuminated by Ms. McFarling’s STAT article, a clear, concise declaration by the AAOS of the value and need for DEI as a central component of the organization’s values should be high on the AAOS order of business. A commitment in that form would serve as a powerful catalyst for bringing orthopedic surgery into step with its sister specialties, as well as affirming the core egalitarian principle that underlies all of medical care.

Dr. White is the Ellen and Melvin Gordon Distinguished Professor of Medical Education and Professor of Orthopedic Surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston. Dr. Chanoff is a founding board member of the Augustus A. White III Institute for Healthcare Equity. Neither Dr. White nor Dr. Chanoff reported any conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Correction, 2/1/22: An earlier version of this article omitted the title of "Dr." before Dr. Louis Sullivan's name.

A recent STAT article by Usha Lee McFarling identified orthopedic surgery as “the whitest specialty.” That’s a problem many, perhaps most, orthopedic surgeons are aware of. But seeing it stated so bluntly is jolting. It’s disconcerting to think that the orthopedic community is making so little progress toward achieving the principal ideal articulated in our country’s fundamental declaration of moral values: that all people are created equal and that they have inalienable rights – in our case, that everyone, Black, brown, as well as White, has the right to the same high level of medical care.

Unfortunately, as study after study has shown, minorities do not enjoy the right to equitable care. Instead, they are subject to disparities in treatment and outcomes that speak to the prejudices that are built into the health care system and are present – sometimes consciously, but most often subconsciously – in the minds of physicians. One important contributing element to these disparities is the paucity of minority practitioners. Studies have also shown that Black patients, for example, respond better to Black physicians, who so often share a psychological and cultural sympathy unavailable to most White physicians. It’s for that reason that being identified as “the whitest specialty” is so immensely troubling.

In researching her STAT article, Ms. McFarling spoke with American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons leaders, practicing surgeons, residents, and med students about the dearth of minority and female orthopedic surgeons. What she heard was perplexity and frustration about why better progress hasn’t been made toward correcting the gross underrepresentation of everyone other than White men. The AAOS, she noted, was one of the first specialties to recognize the lack of diversity and over the years has put in great effort to address the problem, creating task forces, committees, and diversity awards and sponsoring conferences and discussions. Yet progress has been glacial, at best.

From her respondents, Ms. McFarling heard an array of reasons for this. Black, Hispanic, and Native American persons are underrepresented in medical schools, so the pool of potential applicants for orthopedic residencies is shallow to begin with. STEM studies are notoriously inadequate in poorer primary and secondary schools, in which so many minority students are educated. The MCAT and USMLE Step 1 test, which play a role in acceptance to residencies, have been shown to be biased. The specialty has few Black or brown role models and, consequently, few advocates and a lack of mentorship. Overt bias may be fairly rare (though microaggressions are still a common and ongoing problem), but most minority and female orthopedic surgeons feel strongly that implicit or subconscious bias is entrenched and works against acceptance to residencies, success in residencies, and advancement in the field.

One of this article’s authors (AW) saw all these factors at work as a resident, then as an admissions committee member at both Yale and Harvard. But the fact is that other medical specialties face exactly these problems and barriers, and yet have been substantially more successful in overcoming them.

What seems to be distinctive about orthopedics is that the mindset which perpetuated (and still perpetuates) the old, lily-white, male predominance in medicine seems stronger, more ingrained, and more resistant to change than it is among physicians in other specialties. In this regard, Kristy Weber, MD, the first female president of the AAOS, told Ms. McFarling that the critical first step to bringing in more women or people of color is changing the culture. There seems to be a consensus about that.

So, what does that mean, given that the AAOS has made serious efforts in that regard that have clearly been less than effective?

The answer, as we see it, is first – to not give in to frustration. The time frames involved in changing customary states of mind are typically elongated, and the deeper the habituation, the longer transformation takes. Deep changes always mean a long, hard slog. For transformations of this sort to take place, the requirements are a general agreement on the value of the transformation, exposure to the destructive consequences of the customary modus operandi, and persuasion for why change needs to happen.

In orthopedics, the first requirement has been met. The AAOS espouses diversity and inclusion as a high-level value. In terms of the second two requirements – exposure and persuasion – orthopedic surgeons have been witness to events, campaigns, conferences, et cetera. But these have not been enough, which means that efforts need to be focused, enlarged, sustained, determined, and innovative.

Does the orthopedic surgery community have the ability to do that?

The answer is: Yes, it does.

Currently the orthopedic surgeon community boasts a number of organizations, groups, and individuals pushing for change, in addition to the AAOS’s Diversity Advisory Board. The predominantly African American J. Robert Gladden Orthopaedic Society, the Ruth Jackson Orthopaedic Society of female orthopedic physicians, and the Association of Latino Orthopaedic Surgeons are all energetic advocates, as is Nth Dimensions, the Perry Initiative, and various ad hoc and individual endeavors.

These are all strong proponents for their own groups in their own way. But history has shown in so many cases that concerted rather than individual action empowers advocacy, and what orthopedic surgery needs in its current situation of gross underrepresentation of minorities and women is an enhanced campaign to raise awareness and redouble persuasion.

One of many examples of the power of collective action is the Association of Minority Health Professions Schools founded by Dr. Louis Sullivan in 1977.* Dr. Sullivan (later secretary of the Department of Health & Human Services) was at that time the founding dean of Morehouse School of Medicine. Morehouse had been launched on a shoestring and needed funding urgently. Other Black health schools, such as Meharry Medical College and Tuskegee College of Veterinary Medicine, were in even more pressing financial need. The coalition of schools that Dr. Sullivan organized became a powerful force in Congress and the National Institutes of Health, magnitudes more effective in raising funds from government and other sources than the best individual efforts of the separate institutions.

Dr. Sullivan’s association is only one of a multitude of historical examples of the effectiveness of unified action. AAOS currently has no single officer charged with bringing together the efforts of the change assets that already exist. It could, perhaps should, have someone in that position. AAOS could invest that same office with a mandate to survey the other medical specialties and bring to bear the most effective diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) practices in their arsenals.

Finally, despite the attention AAOS has brought to DEI needs, a look at the organization’s strategic goals, its core values, and its “key enablers” finds not a single mention of diversity or inclusion. Given the country’s current focus on the need for equality, given the poor performance of the orthopedic surgery specialty in terms of inclusion, the obvious question is: Should there not be an official declaration positing diversity as a primary AAOS desideratum?

There is recent precedent for this in the American College of Physicians/American Board of Internal Medicine’s Physician Charter on Professionalism, which includes “social justice” as a primary goal of medical practice. This highlights and reinforces the humanitarian strivings of the profession. In light of the paralysis illuminated by Ms. McFarling’s STAT article, a clear, concise declaration by the AAOS of the value and need for DEI as a central component of the organization’s values should be high on the AAOS order of business. A commitment in that form would serve as a powerful catalyst for bringing orthopedic surgery into step with its sister specialties, as well as affirming the core egalitarian principle that underlies all of medical care.

Dr. White is the Ellen and Melvin Gordon Distinguished Professor of Medical Education and Professor of Orthopedic Surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston. Dr. Chanoff is a founding board member of the Augustus A. White III Institute for Healthcare Equity. Neither Dr. White nor Dr. Chanoff reported any conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Correction, 2/1/22: An earlier version of this article omitted the title of "Dr." before Dr. Louis Sullivan's name.

A recent STAT article by Usha Lee McFarling identified orthopedic surgery as “the whitest specialty.” That’s a problem many, perhaps most, orthopedic surgeons are aware of. But seeing it stated so bluntly is jolting. It’s disconcerting to think that the orthopedic community is making so little progress toward achieving the principal ideal articulated in our country’s fundamental declaration of moral values: that all people are created equal and that they have inalienable rights – in our case, that everyone, Black, brown, as well as White, has the right to the same high level of medical care.

Unfortunately, as study after study has shown, minorities do not enjoy the right to equitable care. Instead, they are subject to disparities in treatment and outcomes that speak to the prejudices that are built into the health care system and are present – sometimes consciously, but most often subconsciously – in the minds of physicians. One important contributing element to these disparities is the paucity of minority practitioners. Studies have also shown that Black patients, for example, respond better to Black physicians, who so often share a psychological and cultural sympathy unavailable to most White physicians. It’s for that reason that being identified as “the whitest specialty” is so immensely troubling.

In researching her STAT article, Ms. McFarling spoke with American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons leaders, practicing surgeons, residents, and med students about the dearth of minority and female orthopedic surgeons. What she heard was perplexity and frustration about why better progress hasn’t been made toward correcting the gross underrepresentation of everyone other than White men. The AAOS, she noted, was one of the first specialties to recognize the lack of diversity and over the years has put in great effort to address the problem, creating task forces, committees, and diversity awards and sponsoring conferences and discussions. Yet progress has been glacial, at best.

From her respondents, Ms. McFarling heard an array of reasons for this. Black, Hispanic, and Native American persons are underrepresented in medical schools, so the pool of potential applicants for orthopedic residencies is shallow to begin with. STEM studies are notoriously inadequate in poorer primary and secondary schools, in which so many minority students are educated. The MCAT and USMLE Step 1 test, which play a role in acceptance to residencies, have been shown to be biased. The specialty has few Black or brown role models and, consequently, few advocates and a lack of mentorship. Overt bias may be fairly rare (though microaggressions are still a common and ongoing problem), but most minority and female orthopedic surgeons feel strongly that implicit or subconscious bias is entrenched and works against acceptance to residencies, success in residencies, and advancement in the field.

One of this article’s authors (AW) saw all these factors at work as a resident, then as an admissions committee member at both Yale and Harvard. But the fact is that other medical specialties face exactly these problems and barriers, and yet have been substantially more successful in overcoming them.

What seems to be distinctive about orthopedics is that the mindset which perpetuated (and still perpetuates) the old, lily-white, male predominance in medicine seems stronger, more ingrained, and more resistant to change than it is among physicians in other specialties. In this regard, Kristy Weber, MD, the first female president of the AAOS, told Ms. McFarling that the critical first step to bringing in more women or people of color is changing the culture. There seems to be a consensus about that.

So, what does that mean, given that the AAOS has made serious efforts in that regard that have clearly been less than effective?

The answer, as we see it, is first – to not give in to frustration. The time frames involved in changing customary states of mind are typically elongated, and the deeper the habituation, the longer transformation takes. Deep changes always mean a long, hard slog. For transformations of this sort to take place, the requirements are a general agreement on the value of the transformation, exposure to the destructive consequences of the customary modus operandi, and persuasion for why change needs to happen.

In orthopedics, the first requirement has been met. The AAOS espouses diversity and inclusion as a high-level value. In terms of the second two requirements – exposure and persuasion – orthopedic surgeons have been witness to events, campaigns, conferences, et cetera. But these have not been enough, which means that efforts need to be focused, enlarged, sustained, determined, and innovative.

Does the orthopedic surgery community have the ability to do that?

The answer is: Yes, it does.

Currently the orthopedic surgeon community boasts a number of organizations, groups, and individuals pushing for change, in addition to the AAOS’s Diversity Advisory Board. The predominantly African American J. Robert Gladden Orthopaedic Society, the Ruth Jackson Orthopaedic Society of female orthopedic physicians, and the Association of Latino Orthopaedic Surgeons are all energetic advocates, as is Nth Dimensions, the Perry Initiative, and various ad hoc and individual endeavors.

These are all strong proponents for their own groups in their own way. But history has shown in so many cases that concerted rather than individual action empowers advocacy, and what orthopedic surgery needs in its current situation of gross underrepresentation of minorities and women is an enhanced campaign to raise awareness and redouble persuasion.

One of many examples of the power of collective action is the Association of Minority Health Professions Schools founded by Dr. Louis Sullivan in 1977.* Dr. Sullivan (later secretary of the Department of Health & Human Services) was at that time the founding dean of Morehouse School of Medicine. Morehouse had been launched on a shoestring and needed funding urgently. Other Black health schools, such as Meharry Medical College and Tuskegee College of Veterinary Medicine, were in even more pressing financial need. The coalition of schools that Dr. Sullivan organized became a powerful force in Congress and the National Institutes of Health, magnitudes more effective in raising funds from government and other sources than the best individual efforts of the separate institutions.

Dr. Sullivan’s association is only one of a multitude of historical examples of the effectiveness of unified action. AAOS currently has no single officer charged with bringing together the efforts of the change assets that already exist. It could, perhaps should, have someone in that position. AAOS could invest that same office with a mandate to survey the other medical specialties and bring to bear the most effective diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) practices in their arsenals.

Finally, despite the attention AAOS has brought to DEI needs, a look at the organization’s strategic goals, its core values, and its “key enablers” finds not a single mention of diversity or inclusion. Given the country’s current focus on the need for equality, given the poor performance of the orthopedic surgery specialty in terms of inclusion, the obvious question is: Should there not be an official declaration positing diversity as a primary AAOS desideratum?

There is recent precedent for this in the American College of Physicians/American Board of Internal Medicine’s Physician Charter on Professionalism, which includes “social justice” as a primary goal of medical practice. This highlights and reinforces the humanitarian strivings of the profession. In light of the paralysis illuminated by Ms. McFarling’s STAT article, a clear, concise declaration by the AAOS of the value and need for DEI as a central component of the organization’s values should be high on the AAOS order of business. A commitment in that form would serve as a powerful catalyst for bringing orthopedic surgery into step with its sister specialties, as well as affirming the core egalitarian principle that underlies all of medical care.

Dr. White is the Ellen and Melvin Gordon Distinguished Professor of Medical Education and Professor of Orthopedic Surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston. Dr. Chanoff is a founding board member of the Augustus A. White III Institute for Healthcare Equity. Neither Dr. White nor Dr. Chanoff reported any conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Correction, 2/1/22: An earlier version of this article omitted the title of "Dr." before Dr. Louis Sullivan's name.

The American Heart Association recently released a scientific statement concerning hypertension in pregnancy, which laid out the variety of disorders, the epidemiology, the future impact of pregnant persons, and the current debates regarding treatment and diagnosis.

This statement addresses all stages from preconception through post pregnancy and outlines the many prevention and treatment options available. Although family physicians were not specifically called out to be partners in the statement, we have a large role to play for both our pregnant patients and those of reproductive age who are not pregnant.

Preconception health

One of the first things pointed out was preconception health. Regardless of whether each individual family physician provides prenatal care, we can all focus on preconception health for those of reproductive age.

The statement from the AHA points out that “lifestyle changes before and during pregnancy may ameliorate both maternal and fetal risks.”

As many already do, family physicians should focus on encouraging their patients to practice healthy eating and exercise prior to pregnancy to help establish routines that will decrease the risk of hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

Focusing on care prior to pregnancy also allows the primary care provider to be involved in quickly linking patients to prenatal care, as it is well established that early and complete prenatal care is important for improving outcomes.

Later-in-life pregnancy

The AHA also highlights that many are choosing to have pregnancies at older ages and with greater comorbidities than in past years. This is another area in which family physicians can provide important care.

We can help by first identifying the chronic conditions, such as hypertension and diabetes, that make the hypertensive disorders of pregnancy more likely. We should then focus on the treatment of these conditions during the preconception time so that they are well controlled prior to pregnancy.

We should also preferentially choose medications that our patients will be able to continue in pregnancy, so that control may be maintained throughout pregnancy.

The statement particularly highlights the avoidance of antihypertensives that are renin-angiotensin system blockers.

We can also help prepare our patients for the additional medications, testing, and precautions they will likely require during their pregnancy so that they know what to expect.

Family physicians are also already starting to utilize home blood pressure monitoring and can introduce this method so that patients may continue to monitor their blood pressures during pregnancy.

Throughout pregnancy, the new statement calls in the current debates of when prenatal care providers should be diagnosing hypertensive disorders and the goals of treatment.

Prenatal care providers can use shared decision-making for medication choices and blood pressure goals. They can also continue to encourage the healthy lifestyle choices such as diet and exercise to reduce the risk of poor outcomes.

This AHA also indicates that prenatal care providers can integrate the use of home blood pressure monitoring as they monitor the blood pressure for patients with hypertensive disorders of pregnancy.
 

Postpartum care

The postpartum period is another crucial time for family physicians and other primary care providers to greatly impact their patients with hypertensive diseases of pregnancy.

They can work to ensure that blood pressure is closely monitored and controlled, including by prescribing diuretics, which are typically not used during pregnancy.

If a patient’s blood pressure does not go down on its own, the primary care provider can begin treatment for hypertension outside of pregnancy. This can decrease their long-term cardiac risk factors and provide control prior to any future potential pregnancies.

Providing care during this postpartum time also offers a great opportunity to again encourage lifestyle options that may decrease risk.

Family physicians and other primary care providers can also encourage their patient to be involved in registries that gather data on hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

In the new statement, the AHA acknowledges the great number of things that are not yet known or fully understood and the health inequities that many face.

Family physicians are positioned to help advocate for their patients and utilize a team-based approach to help provide resources to patients. We must continue to be there for our patients at every stage of their lives to help them live their healthiest lives possible.

The statement also indicates that there may be genetic factors at play more than social determinants of health. It is important to identify what those are for the best care of our patients while ensuring we are doing our best to provide our patients with the resources they need.

Dr. Wheat is a family physician at Erie Family Health Center and program director of Northwestern University’s McGaw Family Medicine residency program, both in Chicago. Dr. Wheat serves on the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. You can contact her at [email protected].

The American Heart Association recently released a scientific statement concerning hypertension in pregnancy, which laid out the variety of disorders, the epidemiology, the future impact of pregnant persons, and the current debates regarding treatment and diagnosis.

This statement addresses all stages from preconception through post pregnancy and outlines the many prevention and treatment options available. Although family physicians were not specifically called out to be partners in the statement, we have a large role to play for both our pregnant patients and those of reproductive age who are not pregnant.

Preconception health

One of the first things pointed out was preconception health. Regardless of whether each individual family physician provides prenatal care, we can all focus on preconception health for those of reproductive age.

The statement from the AHA points out that “lifestyle changes before and during pregnancy may ameliorate both maternal and fetal risks.”

As many already do, family physicians should focus on encouraging their patients to practice healthy eating and exercise prior to pregnancy to help establish routines that will decrease the risk of hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

Focusing on care prior to pregnancy also allows the primary care provider to be involved in quickly linking patients to prenatal care, as it is well established that early and complete prenatal care is important for improving outcomes.

Later-in-life pregnancy

The AHA also highlights that many are choosing to have pregnancies at older ages and with greater comorbidities than in past years. This is another area in which family physicians can provide important care.

We can help by first identifying the chronic conditions, such as hypertension and diabetes, that make the hypertensive disorders of pregnancy more likely. We should then focus on the treatment of these conditions during the preconception time so that they are well controlled prior to pregnancy.

We should also preferentially choose medications that our patients will be able to continue in pregnancy, so that control may be maintained throughout pregnancy.

The statement particularly highlights the avoidance of antihypertensives that are renin-angiotensin system blockers.

We can also help prepare our patients for the additional medications, testing, and precautions they will likely require during their pregnancy so that they know what to expect.

Family physicians are also already starting to utilize home blood pressure monitoring and can introduce this method so that patients may continue to monitor their blood pressures during pregnancy.

Throughout pregnancy, the new statement calls in the current debates of when prenatal care providers should be diagnosing hypertensive disorders and the goals of treatment.

Prenatal care providers can use shared decision-making for medication choices and blood pressure goals. They can also continue to encourage the healthy lifestyle choices such as diet and exercise to reduce the risk of poor outcomes.

This AHA also indicates that prenatal care providers can integrate the use of home blood pressure monitoring as they monitor the blood pressure for patients with hypertensive disorders of pregnancy.
 

Postpartum care

The postpartum period is another crucial time for family physicians and other primary care providers to greatly impact their patients with hypertensive diseases of pregnancy.

They can work to ensure that blood pressure is closely monitored and controlled, including by prescribing diuretics, which are typically not used during pregnancy.

If a patient’s blood pressure does not go down on its own, the primary care provider can begin treatment for hypertension outside of pregnancy. This can decrease their long-term cardiac risk factors and provide control prior to any future potential pregnancies.

Providing care during this postpartum time also offers a great opportunity to again encourage lifestyle options that may decrease risk.

Family physicians and other primary care providers can also encourage their patient to be involved in registries that gather data on hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

In the new statement, the AHA acknowledges the great number of things that are not yet known or fully understood and the health inequities that many face.

Family physicians are positioned to help advocate for their patients and utilize a team-based approach to help provide resources to patients. We must continue to be there for our patients at every stage of their lives to help them live their healthiest lives possible.

The statement also indicates that there may be genetic factors at play more than social determinants of health. It is important to identify what those are for the best care of our patients while ensuring we are doing our best to provide our patients with the resources they need.

Dr. Wheat is a family physician at Erie Family Health Center and program director of Northwestern University’s McGaw Family Medicine residency program, both in Chicago. Dr. Wheat serves on the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. You can contact her at [email protected].

The American Heart Association recently released a scientific statement concerning hypertension in pregnancy, which laid out the variety of disorders, the epidemiology, the future impact of pregnant persons, and the current debates regarding treatment and diagnosis.

This statement addresses all stages from preconception through post pregnancy and outlines the many prevention and treatment options available. Although family physicians were not specifically called out to be partners in the statement, we have a large role to play for both our pregnant patients and those of reproductive age who are not pregnant.

Preconception health

One of the first things pointed out was preconception health. Regardless of whether each individual family physician provides prenatal care, we can all focus on preconception health for those of reproductive age.

The statement from the AHA points out that “lifestyle changes before and during pregnancy may ameliorate both maternal and fetal risks.”

As many already do, family physicians should focus on encouraging their patients to practice healthy eating and exercise prior to pregnancy to help establish routines that will decrease the risk of hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

Focusing on care prior to pregnancy also allows the primary care provider to be involved in quickly linking patients to prenatal care, as it is well established that early and complete prenatal care is important for improving outcomes.

Later-in-life pregnancy

The AHA also highlights that many are choosing to have pregnancies at older ages and with greater comorbidities than in past years. This is another area in which family physicians can provide important care.

We can help by first identifying the chronic conditions, such as hypertension and diabetes, that make the hypertensive disorders of pregnancy more likely. We should then focus on the treatment of these conditions during the preconception time so that they are well controlled prior to pregnancy.

We should also preferentially choose medications that our patients will be able to continue in pregnancy, so that control may be maintained throughout pregnancy.

The statement particularly highlights the avoidance of antihypertensives that are renin-angiotensin system blockers.

We can also help prepare our patients for the additional medications, testing, and precautions they will likely require during their pregnancy so that they know what to expect.

Family physicians are also already starting to utilize home blood pressure monitoring and can introduce this method so that patients may continue to monitor their blood pressures during pregnancy.

Throughout pregnancy, the new statement calls in the current debates of when prenatal care providers should be diagnosing hypertensive disorders and the goals of treatment.

Prenatal care providers can use shared decision-making for medication choices and blood pressure goals. They can also continue to encourage the healthy lifestyle choices such as diet and exercise to reduce the risk of poor outcomes.

This AHA also indicates that prenatal care providers can integrate the use of home blood pressure monitoring as they monitor the blood pressure for patients with hypertensive disorders of pregnancy.
 

Postpartum care

The postpartum period is another crucial time for family physicians and other primary care providers to greatly impact their patients with hypertensive diseases of pregnancy.

They can work to ensure that blood pressure is closely monitored and controlled, including by prescribing diuretics, which are typically not used during pregnancy.

If a patient’s blood pressure does not go down on its own, the primary care provider can begin treatment for hypertension outside of pregnancy. This can decrease their long-term cardiac risk factors and provide control prior to any future potential pregnancies.

Providing care during this postpartum time also offers a great opportunity to again encourage lifestyle options that may decrease risk.

Family physicians and other primary care providers can also encourage their patient to be involved in registries that gather data on hypertensive disorders in pregnancy.

In the new statement, the AHA acknowledges the great number of things that are not yet known or fully understood and the health inequities that many face.

Family physicians are positioned to help advocate for their patients and utilize a team-based approach to help provide resources to patients. We must continue to be there for our patients at every stage of their lives to help them live their healthiest lives possible.

The statement also indicates that there may be genetic factors at play more than social determinants of health. It is important to identify what those are for the best care of our patients while ensuring we are doing our best to provide our patients with the resources they need.

Dr. Wheat is a family physician at Erie Family Health Center and program director of Northwestern University’s McGaw Family Medicine residency program, both in Chicago. Dr. Wheat serves on the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. You can contact her at [email protected].

Some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity.

The first thing I noticed about Mr. Barry as I entered the intensive care unit was his left foot: Half of it was black, shriveled, and gangrenous, jutting out from under the white blanket. The soft rays of the morning sun illuminated his gaunt, unshaven, hollow cheeks. Sedated on propofol, with a green endotracheal tube sticking out of his chapped lips, he looked frail. His nurse, Becky, had just cleaned him after he passed tarry, maroon-colored stool. As she turned him over, I saw that the skin over his tailbone was broken. He had a large decubitus ulcer, the edges of which were now dried and black. The Foley bag, hanging next to his bed, was empty; there had been no urine for several hours now.

No one knew much about Mr. Barry. I don’t mean his current medical status – I mean what he did in life, who he loved, whether he had kids, what he valued. All we knew was that he was 83 years old and lived alone. No prior records in our system. No advanced directives. No information on any family. One of his neighbors called 911 after he was not seen for at least 10 days. Emergency medical services found Mr. Barry in bed, nearly lifeless. In the emergency room, he was noted to be in shock, with a dangerously low blood pressure. He was dry as a bone with markedly elevated sodium levels. His laboratory makers for kidney and liver function were deranged. He was admitted to the medical ICU with a diagnosis of hypovolemic shock and/or septic shock with multiorgan dysfunction. With 48 hours of supportive management with intravenous fluids and antibiotics, he did not improve. Blood cultures were positive for gram-positive cocci. The doses for medications used to maintain the blood pressure increased steadily. He also developed gastrointestinal bleeding.
 

Futile vs. potentially inappropriate

I was called for a cardiology consult because he had transient ST elevation in inferolateral leads on the monitor. Given his clinical scenario, the likelihood of type 1 myocardial infarction from plaque rupture was low; the ST elevations were probably related to vasospasm from increasing pressor requirement. Diagnostic cardiac catheterization showed clean coronary arteries. Continuous renal replacement therapy was soon started. Given Mr Barry’s multiorgan dysfunction and extremely poor prognosis, I recommended making all efforts to find his family or surrogate decision-maker to discuss goals of care or having a two-physician sign-off to place a DNR order.

Despite all efforts, we could not trace the family. We physicians vary individually on how we define value as related to life. We also vary on the degree of uncertainty about prognostication that we are comfortable with. This is one of the reasons the term “futility” is controversial and there is a push to use “potentially inappropriate” instead. The primary team had a different threshold for placing a DNR order and did not do it. That night, after I left the hospital, Mr Barry had a PEA (pulseless electrical activity) arrest and was resuscitated after 10 minutes of CPR. The next day, I noticed his bruised chest. He was on multiple medications to support his blood pressure.
 

My patient and a Hemingway protagonist

Whether by coincidence or irony, I started reading Ernest Hemingway’s short story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” the same day that I met Mr. Barry. He reminded me of the story’s protagonist, Harry, lying on the cot with a gangrenous leg, waiting to die. Harry could sense death approaching. He reminisced about his past. All he wanted was to drink his “whiskey-soda.” “Darling, don’t drink that. We have to do everything we can,” his wife said. “You do it. I am tired,” Harry said, and continued to drink his whiskey-soda.

Mr. Barry looked tired. Tired of life? I can’t say with certainty. However, if I had to guess, the medical team’s heroics meant nothing to him. Unfortunately, he was not awake like Harry and could not do what he wished. I wondered what snippets of his life flashed before him as he lay on his bed at home for days. Did he want to have a whiskey-soda before dying? But we are not letting him die. Not easily anyway. We have to do everything we can: medications, coronary angiogram, dialysis, multiple rounds of CPR. Why?

In this country, we need permission to forgo CPR. If there are no advanced directives or next of kin available to discuss end-of-life care, performing CPR is the default status for all hospitalized patients, irrespective of the underlying severity of the illness. A unilateral DNR order written by a physician in good conscience (in a medically futile situation), but to which the patient has not consented, is generally invalid in most U.S. states. If health directives are not available, CPR will be administered on the presumption that the patient would want us to “do everything we can.” The medicolegal consequences and fear of not administering CPR is more profound than being found wrong and defying a patient’s wishes against CPR.

In patients with outside-hospital cardiac arrest, especially if related to ventricular fibrillation, early bystander CPR improves the survival rate. Hence, it makes sense for first responders and paramedics to administer CPR as the default option, focusing on the technique, rather than thinking about its utility based on the patient’s underlying comorbidities.

In the inpatient setting, however, physicians have enough information to comprehensively evaluate the patient. In a cohort of 5,690 critically ill ICU patients, obtained from a U.S. registry, the rate of survival to discharge after inpatient cardiac arrest is very low at 12.5%. Chronic health conditions, malignancy, end-stage renal disease, multiorgan dysfunction, need for vasopressor support, prior CPR, initial rhythm of asystole, or PEA advanced age were all associated with a less than 10% survival rate after CPR.

Dying is a process. Administering CPR to a dying patient is of little to no value. For Mr. Barry, it resulted in a bruised chest and broken ribs. James R. Jude, MD, one of the pioneers of closed chest compression, or modern-day CPR, wrote in 1965 that “resuscitation of the dying patient with irreparable damage to lungs, heart, kidneys, brain or any other vital system of the body has no medical, ethical, or moral justification. The techniques described in this monograph were designed to resuscitate the victim of acute insult, whether be it from drowning, electrical shock, untoward effect of drugs, anesthetic accident, heart block, acute myocardial infarction, or surgery.”

Yet, doctors continue to provide futile treatments at end of life for a variety of reasons: concerns about medico-legal risks, discomfort or inexperience with death and dying, uncertainty in prognostication, family requests, and organizational barriers such as lack of palliative services that can help lead end-of-life care discussions. Despite knowing that CPR has little benefit in critically ill patients with terminal illness and multiorgan dysfunction, we often ask the patient and their surrogate decision-makers: “If your heart stops, do you want us to restore your heart by pressing on the chest and giving electric shocks?” The very act of asking the question implies that CPR may be beneficial. We often do not go over the risks or offer an opinion on whether CPR should be performed. We take a neutral stance.

Anoxic brain injury, pain from broken ribs, and low likelihood of survival to discharge with acceptable neurologic recovery are rarely discussed in detail. Laypeople may overestimate the chances of survival after CPR and they may not comprehend that it does not reverse the dying process in patients with a terminal illness. When you ask about CPR, most families hear: “Do you want your loved one to live?” and the answer is nearly always “Yes.” We then administer CPR, thinking that we are respecting the patient’s autonomy in the medical decision-making process. However, in end-of-life care, elderly patients or surrogates may not fully understand the complexities involved or the outcomes of CPR. So, are we truly respecting their autonomy?
 

When to offer CPR?

In 2011, Billings and Krakauer, palliative care specialists from Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, suggested that we focus on understanding our patient’s values and goals of care, and then decide whether to offer CPR, rather than taking a neutral stance. With this approach, we continue to respect the patient’s autonomy and also affirm our responsibility in providing care consistent with medical reality. We need to have the humility to accept that death is inevitable. Taking care of the dying to ensure a peaceful and dignified death is as much our moral and ethical responsibility as respecting a patient’s autonomy.

It has been 10 years since a group of physicians from Columbia University Medical Center, Harvard Medical School, MGH, and Boston Children’s Hospital proposed changes to how we determine resuscitation status. Instead of assuming that CPR is always wanted, they suggested three distinct approaches: consider CPR when the benefits versus risks are uncertain, and the patient is not end stage; recommend against CPR when there is a low likelihood of benefit and high likelihood of harm (e.g., patients with anoxic brain injury, advanced incurable cancer, or end-stage multiorgan dysfunction); and do not offer CPR to patients who will die imminently and have no chance of surviving CPR (e.g., patients with multiorgan dysfunction, increasing pressor requirements, and those who are actively dying without a single immediately reversible cause). I agree with their proposal.

Mr. Barry was actively dying. Unfortunately, we had neither his advanced directives nor access to family members or surrogates to discuss values and goals of care. Given the futility of administering CPR again, and based on our humanitarian principles, a moral and ethical responsibility to ensure a peaceful dying process, I and another ICU attending placed the DNR order. He passed away, peacefully, within a few hours.

That evening, as I was sitting on my porch reading the last page of “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” my phone pinged. It was an email asking me to complete the final attestation for the death certificate. I imagined that Mr. Barry knew where he was going. He probably had his own special place – something beautiful and majestic, great and tall, dazzlingly white in the hot sun, like the snow-capped mountain of Kilimanjaro that Harry saw at the time of his death.

Dr. Mallidi is a general cardiologist at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital, UCSF. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity.

The first thing I noticed about Mr. Barry as I entered the intensive care unit was his left foot: Half of it was black, shriveled, and gangrenous, jutting out from under the white blanket. The soft rays of the morning sun illuminated his gaunt, unshaven, hollow cheeks. Sedated on propofol, with a green endotracheal tube sticking out of his chapped lips, he looked frail. His nurse, Becky, had just cleaned him after he passed tarry, maroon-colored stool. As she turned him over, I saw that the skin over his tailbone was broken. He had a large decubitus ulcer, the edges of which were now dried and black. The Foley bag, hanging next to his bed, was empty; there had been no urine for several hours now.

No one knew much about Mr. Barry. I don’t mean his current medical status – I mean what he did in life, who he loved, whether he had kids, what he valued. All we knew was that he was 83 years old and lived alone. No prior records in our system. No advanced directives. No information on any family. One of his neighbors called 911 after he was not seen for at least 10 days. Emergency medical services found Mr. Barry in bed, nearly lifeless. In the emergency room, he was noted to be in shock, with a dangerously low blood pressure. He was dry as a bone with markedly elevated sodium levels. His laboratory makers for kidney and liver function were deranged. He was admitted to the medical ICU with a diagnosis of hypovolemic shock and/or septic shock with multiorgan dysfunction. With 48 hours of supportive management with intravenous fluids and antibiotics, he did not improve. Blood cultures were positive for gram-positive cocci. The doses for medications used to maintain the blood pressure increased steadily. He also developed gastrointestinal bleeding.
 

Futile vs. potentially inappropriate

I was called for a cardiology consult because he had transient ST elevation in inferolateral leads on the monitor. Given his clinical scenario, the likelihood of type 1 myocardial infarction from plaque rupture was low; the ST elevations were probably related to vasospasm from increasing pressor requirement. Diagnostic cardiac catheterization showed clean coronary arteries. Continuous renal replacement therapy was soon started. Given Mr Barry’s multiorgan dysfunction and extremely poor prognosis, I recommended making all efforts to find his family or surrogate decision-maker to discuss goals of care or having a two-physician sign-off to place a DNR order.

Despite all efforts, we could not trace the family. We physicians vary individually on how we define value as related to life. We also vary on the degree of uncertainty about prognostication that we are comfortable with. This is one of the reasons the term “futility” is controversial and there is a push to use “potentially inappropriate” instead. The primary team had a different threshold for placing a DNR order and did not do it. That night, after I left the hospital, Mr Barry had a PEA (pulseless electrical activity) arrest and was resuscitated after 10 minutes of CPR. The next day, I noticed his bruised chest. He was on multiple medications to support his blood pressure.
 

My patient and a Hemingway protagonist

Whether by coincidence or irony, I started reading Ernest Hemingway’s short story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” the same day that I met Mr. Barry. He reminded me of the story’s protagonist, Harry, lying on the cot with a gangrenous leg, waiting to die. Harry could sense death approaching. He reminisced about his past. All he wanted was to drink his “whiskey-soda.” “Darling, don’t drink that. We have to do everything we can,” his wife said. “You do it. I am tired,” Harry said, and continued to drink his whiskey-soda.

Mr. Barry looked tired. Tired of life? I can’t say with certainty. However, if I had to guess, the medical team’s heroics meant nothing to him. Unfortunately, he was not awake like Harry and could not do what he wished. I wondered what snippets of his life flashed before him as he lay on his bed at home for days. Did he want to have a whiskey-soda before dying? But we are not letting him die. Not easily anyway. We have to do everything we can: medications, coronary angiogram, dialysis, multiple rounds of CPR. Why?

In this country, we need permission to forgo CPR. If there are no advanced directives or next of kin available to discuss end-of-life care, performing CPR is the default status for all hospitalized patients, irrespective of the underlying severity of the illness. A unilateral DNR order written by a physician in good conscience (in a medically futile situation), but to which the patient has not consented, is generally invalid in most U.S. states. If health directives are not available, CPR will be administered on the presumption that the patient would want us to “do everything we can.” The medicolegal consequences and fear of not administering CPR is more profound than being found wrong and defying a patient’s wishes against CPR.

In patients with outside-hospital cardiac arrest, especially if related to ventricular fibrillation, early bystander CPR improves the survival rate. Hence, it makes sense for first responders and paramedics to administer CPR as the default option, focusing on the technique, rather than thinking about its utility based on the patient’s underlying comorbidities.

In the inpatient setting, however, physicians have enough information to comprehensively evaluate the patient. In a cohort of 5,690 critically ill ICU patients, obtained from a U.S. registry, the rate of survival to discharge after inpatient cardiac arrest is very low at 12.5%. Chronic health conditions, malignancy, end-stage renal disease, multiorgan dysfunction, need for vasopressor support, prior CPR, initial rhythm of asystole, or PEA advanced age were all associated with a less than 10% survival rate after CPR.

Dying is a process. Administering CPR to a dying patient is of little to no value. For Mr. Barry, it resulted in a bruised chest and broken ribs. James R. Jude, MD, one of the pioneers of closed chest compression, or modern-day CPR, wrote in 1965 that “resuscitation of the dying patient with irreparable damage to lungs, heart, kidneys, brain or any other vital system of the body has no medical, ethical, or moral justification. The techniques described in this monograph were designed to resuscitate the victim of acute insult, whether be it from drowning, electrical shock, untoward effect of drugs, anesthetic accident, heart block, acute myocardial infarction, or surgery.”

Yet, doctors continue to provide futile treatments at end of life for a variety of reasons: concerns about medico-legal risks, discomfort or inexperience with death and dying, uncertainty in prognostication, family requests, and organizational barriers such as lack of palliative services that can help lead end-of-life care discussions. Despite knowing that CPR has little benefit in critically ill patients with terminal illness and multiorgan dysfunction, we often ask the patient and their surrogate decision-makers: “If your heart stops, do you want us to restore your heart by pressing on the chest and giving electric shocks?” The very act of asking the question implies that CPR may be beneficial. We often do not go over the risks or offer an opinion on whether CPR should be performed. We take a neutral stance.

Anoxic brain injury, pain from broken ribs, and low likelihood of survival to discharge with acceptable neurologic recovery are rarely discussed in detail. Laypeople may overestimate the chances of survival after CPR and they may not comprehend that it does not reverse the dying process in patients with a terminal illness. When you ask about CPR, most families hear: “Do you want your loved one to live?” and the answer is nearly always “Yes.” We then administer CPR, thinking that we are respecting the patient’s autonomy in the medical decision-making process. However, in end-of-life care, elderly patients or surrogates may not fully understand the complexities involved or the outcomes of CPR. So, are we truly respecting their autonomy?
 

When to offer CPR?

In 2011, Billings and Krakauer, palliative care specialists from Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, suggested that we focus on understanding our patient’s values and goals of care, and then decide whether to offer CPR, rather than taking a neutral stance. With this approach, we continue to respect the patient’s autonomy and also affirm our responsibility in providing care consistent with medical reality. We need to have the humility to accept that death is inevitable. Taking care of the dying to ensure a peaceful and dignified death is as much our moral and ethical responsibility as respecting a patient’s autonomy.

It has been 10 years since a group of physicians from Columbia University Medical Center, Harvard Medical School, MGH, and Boston Children’s Hospital proposed changes to how we determine resuscitation status. Instead of assuming that CPR is always wanted, they suggested three distinct approaches: consider CPR when the benefits versus risks are uncertain, and the patient is not end stage; recommend against CPR when there is a low likelihood of benefit and high likelihood of harm (e.g., patients with anoxic brain injury, advanced incurable cancer, or end-stage multiorgan dysfunction); and do not offer CPR to patients who will die imminently and have no chance of surviving CPR (e.g., patients with multiorgan dysfunction, increasing pressor requirements, and those who are actively dying without a single immediately reversible cause). I agree with their proposal.

Mr. Barry was actively dying. Unfortunately, we had neither his advanced directives nor access to family members or surrogates to discuss values and goals of care. Given the futility of administering CPR again, and based on our humanitarian principles, a moral and ethical responsibility to ensure a peaceful dying process, I and another ICU attending placed the DNR order. He passed away, peacefully, within a few hours.

That evening, as I was sitting on my porch reading the last page of “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” my phone pinged. It was an email asking me to complete the final attestation for the death certificate. I imagined that Mr. Barry knew where he was going. He probably had his own special place – something beautiful and majestic, great and tall, dazzlingly white in the hot sun, like the snow-capped mountain of Kilimanjaro that Harry saw at the time of his death.

Dr. Mallidi is a general cardiologist at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital, UCSF. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity.

The first thing I noticed about Mr. Barry as I entered the intensive care unit was his left foot: Half of it was black, shriveled, and gangrenous, jutting out from under the white blanket. The soft rays of the morning sun illuminated his gaunt, unshaven, hollow cheeks. Sedated on propofol, with a green endotracheal tube sticking out of his chapped lips, he looked frail. His nurse, Becky, had just cleaned him after he passed tarry, maroon-colored stool. As she turned him over, I saw that the skin over his tailbone was broken. He had a large decubitus ulcer, the edges of which were now dried and black. The Foley bag, hanging next to his bed, was empty; there had been no urine for several hours now.

No one knew much about Mr. Barry. I don’t mean his current medical status – I mean what he did in life, who he loved, whether he had kids, what he valued. All we knew was that he was 83 years old and lived alone. No prior records in our system. No advanced directives. No information on any family. One of his neighbors called 911 after he was not seen for at least 10 days. Emergency medical services found Mr. Barry in bed, nearly lifeless. In the emergency room, he was noted to be in shock, with a dangerously low blood pressure. He was dry as a bone with markedly elevated sodium levels. His laboratory makers for kidney and liver function were deranged. He was admitted to the medical ICU with a diagnosis of hypovolemic shock and/or septic shock with multiorgan dysfunction. With 48 hours of supportive management with intravenous fluids and antibiotics, he did not improve. Blood cultures were positive for gram-positive cocci. The doses for medications used to maintain the blood pressure increased steadily. He also developed gastrointestinal bleeding.
 

Futile vs. potentially inappropriate

I was called for a cardiology consult because he had transient ST elevation in inferolateral leads on the monitor. Given his clinical scenario, the likelihood of type 1 myocardial infarction from plaque rupture was low; the ST elevations were probably related to vasospasm from increasing pressor requirement. Diagnostic cardiac catheterization showed clean coronary arteries. Continuous renal replacement therapy was soon started. Given Mr Barry’s multiorgan dysfunction and extremely poor prognosis, I recommended making all efforts to find his family or surrogate decision-maker to discuss goals of care or having a two-physician sign-off to place a DNR order.

Despite all efforts, we could not trace the family. We physicians vary individually on how we define value as related to life. We also vary on the degree of uncertainty about prognostication that we are comfortable with. This is one of the reasons the term “futility” is controversial and there is a push to use “potentially inappropriate” instead. The primary team had a different threshold for placing a DNR order and did not do it. That night, after I left the hospital, Mr Barry had a PEA (pulseless electrical activity) arrest and was resuscitated after 10 minutes of CPR. The next day, I noticed his bruised chest. He was on multiple medications to support his blood pressure.
 

My patient and a Hemingway protagonist

Whether by coincidence or irony, I started reading Ernest Hemingway’s short story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” the same day that I met Mr. Barry. He reminded me of the story’s protagonist, Harry, lying on the cot with a gangrenous leg, waiting to die. Harry could sense death approaching. He reminisced about his past. All he wanted was to drink his “whiskey-soda.” “Darling, don’t drink that. We have to do everything we can,” his wife said. “You do it. I am tired,” Harry said, and continued to drink his whiskey-soda.

Mr. Barry looked tired. Tired of life? I can’t say with certainty. However, if I had to guess, the medical team’s heroics meant nothing to him. Unfortunately, he was not awake like Harry and could not do what he wished. I wondered what snippets of his life flashed before him as he lay on his bed at home for days. Did he want to have a whiskey-soda before dying? But we are not letting him die. Not easily anyway. We have to do everything we can: medications, coronary angiogram, dialysis, multiple rounds of CPR. Why?

In this country, we need permission to forgo CPR. If there are no advanced directives or next of kin available to discuss end-of-life care, performing CPR is the default status for all hospitalized patients, irrespective of the underlying severity of the illness. A unilateral DNR order written by a physician in good conscience (in a medically futile situation), but to which the patient has not consented, is generally invalid in most U.S. states. If health directives are not available, CPR will be administered on the presumption that the patient would want us to “do everything we can.” The medicolegal consequences and fear of not administering CPR is more profound than being found wrong and defying a patient’s wishes against CPR.

In patients with outside-hospital cardiac arrest, especially if related to ventricular fibrillation, early bystander CPR improves the survival rate. Hence, it makes sense for first responders and paramedics to administer CPR as the default option, focusing on the technique, rather than thinking about its utility based on the patient’s underlying comorbidities.

In the inpatient setting, however, physicians have enough information to comprehensively evaluate the patient. In a cohort of 5,690 critically ill ICU patients, obtained from a U.S. registry, the rate of survival to discharge after inpatient cardiac arrest is very low at 12.5%. Chronic health conditions, malignancy, end-stage renal disease, multiorgan dysfunction, need for vasopressor support, prior CPR, initial rhythm of asystole, or PEA advanced age were all associated with a less than 10% survival rate after CPR.

Dying is a process. Administering CPR to a dying patient is of little to no value. For Mr. Barry, it resulted in a bruised chest and broken ribs. James R. Jude, MD, one of the pioneers of closed chest compression, or modern-day CPR, wrote in 1965 that “resuscitation of the dying patient with irreparable damage to lungs, heart, kidneys, brain or any other vital system of the body has no medical, ethical, or moral justification. The techniques described in this monograph were designed to resuscitate the victim of acute insult, whether be it from drowning, electrical shock, untoward effect of drugs, anesthetic accident, heart block, acute myocardial infarction, or surgery.”

Yet, doctors continue to provide futile treatments at end of life for a variety of reasons: concerns about medico-legal risks, discomfort or inexperience with death and dying, uncertainty in prognostication, family requests, and organizational barriers such as lack of palliative services that can help lead end-of-life care discussions. Despite knowing that CPR has little benefit in critically ill patients with terminal illness and multiorgan dysfunction, we often ask the patient and their surrogate decision-makers: “If your heart stops, do you want us to restore your heart by pressing on the chest and giving electric shocks?” The very act of asking the question implies that CPR may be beneficial. We often do not go over the risks or offer an opinion on whether CPR should be performed. We take a neutral stance.

Anoxic brain injury, pain from broken ribs, and low likelihood of survival to discharge with acceptable neurologic recovery are rarely discussed in detail. Laypeople may overestimate the chances of survival after CPR and they may not comprehend that it does not reverse the dying process in patients with a terminal illness. When you ask about CPR, most families hear: “Do you want your loved one to live?” and the answer is nearly always “Yes.” We then administer CPR, thinking that we are respecting the patient’s autonomy in the medical decision-making process. However, in end-of-life care, elderly patients or surrogates may not fully understand the complexities involved or the outcomes of CPR. So, are we truly respecting their autonomy?
 

When to offer CPR?

In 2011, Billings and Krakauer, palliative care specialists from Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, suggested that we focus on understanding our patient’s values and goals of care, and then decide whether to offer CPR, rather than taking a neutral stance. With this approach, we continue to respect the patient’s autonomy and also affirm our responsibility in providing care consistent with medical reality. We need to have the humility to accept that death is inevitable. Taking care of the dying to ensure a peaceful and dignified death is as much our moral and ethical responsibility as respecting a patient’s autonomy.

It has been 10 years since a group of physicians from Columbia University Medical Center, Harvard Medical School, MGH, and Boston Children’s Hospital proposed changes to how we determine resuscitation status. Instead of assuming that CPR is always wanted, they suggested three distinct approaches: consider CPR when the benefits versus risks are uncertain, and the patient is not end stage; recommend against CPR when there is a low likelihood of benefit and high likelihood of harm (e.g., patients with anoxic brain injury, advanced incurable cancer, or end-stage multiorgan dysfunction); and do not offer CPR to patients who will die imminently and have no chance of surviving CPR (e.g., patients with multiorgan dysfunction, increasing pressor requirements, and those who are actively dying without a single immediately reversible cause). I agree with their proposal.

Mr. Barry was actively dying. Unfortunately, we had neither his advanced directives nor access to family members or surrogates to discuss values and goals of care. Given the futility of administering CPR again, and based on our humanitarian principles, a moral and ethical responsibility to ensure a peaceful dying process, I and another ICU attending placed the DNR order. He passed away, peacefully, within a few hours.

That evening, as I was sitting on my porch reading the last page of “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” my phone pinged. It was an email asking me to complete the final attestation for the death certificate. I imagined that Mr. Barry knew where he was going. He probably had his own special place – something beautiful and majestic, great and tall, dazzlingly white in the hot sun, like the snow-capped mountain of Kilimanjaro that Harry saw at the time of his death.

Dr. Mallidi is a general cardiologist at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital, UCSF. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The goal of advanced ovarian cancer surgery is to remove all gross disease, or all visible and palpable disease implants. This became the established standard when improved survival was consistently observed among patients who had undergone complete surgical resection. Traditionally, definitions of no gross residual disease have been left in the hands, and eyes, of the surgeon. However, new technology has emerged which affords surgeons the ability to visualize ovarian cancer deposits that are imperceptible to the naked eye. But will this improve upon the poor cure rates for advanced ovarian cancer?

Many are familiar with the traditional definitions of “optimal” (less than 1 cm–sized deposits at any one location) and “suboptimal” (greater than 1 cm–sized deposits remaining) when referring to surgical cytoreduction of ovarian cancer. This nomenclature was introduced to define, categorize, and prognosticate patient groups after surgery. In recent years we have moved away from these descriptive definitions of ovarian cancer resection, borrowing from surgical oncology measures of surgical outcomes where “R0” defines surgical resection with negative margins, “R1” includes resection with positive microscopic margins (negative for tumor intraoperatively, but positive on microscopic pathology), and “R2” refers to macroscopic residual disease remaining.¹

In ovarian cancer, surgeons have adopted the expression R0 to include patients in whom there is no gross visible or palpable residual disease, a special, favorable subgrouping of the previous “optimal” group. R1 is applied to patients with macroscopic, residual disease that fits within the traditional “optimal” cytoreduction classification (<1 cm in any one location). Obviously, these are significant variations to the traditional surgical oncology definitions, but not without supporting data. For example, patients with no gross residual disease (now defined as “R0”) have been observed to have improved survival, compared with patients who are “optimally” debulked but with R1 (<1 cm) residual disease.² Therefore, this new goal of complete surgical resection has replaced the previous standard of “optimal” cytoreduction in which small macroscopic residual disease was acceptable.

Whether or not a surgery is completed with no gross residual disease is a subjective assessment made by the surgeon, and in practice, highly inaccurate. When a posttrial ad hoc analysis of 1,873 patients with advanced ovarian cancer who had been enrolled in a Gynecologic Oncology Group cooperative trial correlated surgeons’ assessments of “optimal” cytoreduction with objective postoperative radiographic findings (performed, on average, less than 1 month postoperatively) they found that postoperative CT scans identified lesions >1 cm in 40% of cases that had been characterized by surgeons as an “optimal” cytoreduction.³ Most commonly, discrepant lesions were identified in the upper abdominal quadrants and retroperitoneal aortic nodal regions. Therefore, surgeons’ subjective assessment of cytoreduction is prone to error, and given how important the completeness of cytoreduction is for clinical outcomes, there is interest in discovering methods to improve upon surgeons’ ability to discriminate volume of disease.

Pafolacianine (Cytalux, On Target Laboratories) is a novel drug that binds a fluorescent molecule to folic acid targeting the folate alpha receptors which are overexpressed on nonmucinous epithelial ovarian cancer cells compared with adjacent nonmalignant tissues.⁴ The drug is intravenously infused preoperatively and then visualized with companion near-infrared imaging devices during surgery to visualize its fluorescent signal where it is bound to ovarian cancer implants. In a phase 2 study of 178 patients with confirmed or suspected ovarian cancer, pafolacianine was able to detect implants of ovarian cancer in 26.9% of cases where the surgeon’s visual inspection was negative.⁵ Of note, the false-positive rate of this drug was not trivial, at 20%. Based on this efficacy data, the drug has been granted FDA approved for use in ovarian cancer surgery to augment the surgeon’s visualization of cancer. However, important questions remain unanswered by these preliminary data.

Will removal of additional microscopic ovarian cancer implants, only seen by pafolacianine, improve the survival of patients with ovarian cancer, and what effect will the addition of this extra surgery have on their surgical morbidity and risk? The use of pafolacianine to augment ovarian cancer debulking surgeries pivots on the premise that ovarian cancer outcomes are determined by surgical “effort” more than the biology of the disease. Otherwise said: The more we surgically remove, the more we cure. But this seems an old-fashioned notion, increasingly challenged by data. It has been shown that, when ovarian cancer debulking surgeries are necessarily more radical because of extensive disease distribution, prognosis is worse, compared with those patients with less extensive disease distribution.⁶ The effect of surgical effort contributes less than that of predetermined patterns of disease presentation. Additionally, genomic traits are different in tumors that are objectively determined to be not amenable to optimal cytoreduction, compared with resectable tumors.⁷ These data suggest that it is the disease, more than the surgeon, that most influences outcomes.

Additionally, the question of whether surgical removal of microscopic disease improves ovarian cancer survival has already been addressed with negative findings. The LION trial randomized 647 women with advanced ovarian cancer to primary cytoreductive surgery either with or without routine lymphadenectomy of clinically negative nodes.⁸ This study found no survival benefit to resecting clinically negative, microscopically positive nodes. In light of these data, it is difficult to imagine that there would be different results with the resection of microscopic peritoneal disease implants identified by pafolacianine.

While pafolacianine promises to move us closer to a true “R0” (negative margins) resection of ovarian cancer, is this even a feasible goal in a disease that is widely metastatic, particularly in the peritoneal cavity? What do “negative margins” mean in the peritoneal cavity? The sensitivity of pafolacianine in detecting microscopic disease is obviously not so high that it can guarantee patients a complete resection of a disseminated disease, and we still do not know what absolute benefit is derived from moving a little bit further on the continuum of surgical resection.

Perhaps augmentation of debulking is not the only, or best, use of pafolacianine for ovarian cancer surgery. Perhaps it might serve a role in diagnostics or staging of the disease rather than for a therapeutic purpose. In the meantime, we await ongoing clinical trials in this space to better inform clinicians what benefits, or harms, they might expect from the addition of this new drug as we continue to define the “optimal” surgical procedure for advanced ovarian cancer.

Dr. Emma Rossi is assistant professor in the division of gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Hermanek P, Wittekind C. Semin Surg Oncol 1994;10:12-20.

2. Elattar A et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev 2011 Aug 10;2011(8):CD007565.

3. Eskander RN et al. Gynecol Oncol 2018;149:525-30.

4. Randall LM et al. Gynecol Oncol 2019;155:63-8.

5. Food and Drug Administration. FDA approves pafolacianine for identifying malignant ovarian cancer lesions. 2021 Dec 1.

6. Horowitz NS et al. J Clin Oncol 2015;33:937-43.

7. Lee S et al. Cell Rep. 2020;31:107502.

8. Harter P et al. N Engl J Med 2019;380:822-32.

The goal of advanced ovarian cancer surgery is to remove all gross disease, or all visible and palpable disease implants. This became the established standard when improved survival was consistently observed among patients who had undergone complete surgical resection. Traditionally, definitions of no gross residual disease have been left in the hands, and eyes, of the surgeon. However, new technology has emerged which affords surgeons the ability to visualize ovarian cancer deposits that are imperceptible to the naked eye. But will this improve upon the poor cure rates for advanced ovarian cancer?

Many are familiar with the traditional definitions of “optimal” (less than 1 cm–sized deposits at any one location) and “suboptimal” (greater than 1 cm–sized deposits remaining) when referring to surgical cytoreduction of ovarian cancer. This nomenclature was introduced to define, categorize, and prognosticate patient groups after surgery. In recent years we have moved away from these descriptive definitions of ovarian cancer resection, borrowing from surgical oncology measures of surgical outcomes where “R0” defines surgical resection with negative margins, “R1” includes resection with positive microscopic margins (negative for tumor intraoperatively, but positive on microscopic pathology), and “R2” refers to macroscopic residual disease remaining.¹

In ovarian cancer, surgeons have adopted the expression R0 to include patients in whom there is no gross visible or palpable residual disease, a special, favorable subgrouping of the previous “optimal” group. R1 is applied to patients with macroscopic, residual disease that fits within the traditional “optimal” cytoreduction classification (<1 cm in any one location). Obviously, these are significant variations to the traditional surgical oncology definitions, but not without supporting data. For example, patients with no gross residual disease (now defined as “R0”) have been observed to have improved survival, compared with patients who are “optimally” debulked but with R1 (<1 cm) residual disease.² Therefore, this new goal of complete surgical resection has replaced the previous standard of “optimal” cytoreduction in which small macroscopic residual disease was acceptable.

Whether or not a surgery is completed with no gross residual disease is a subjective assessment made by the surgeon, and in practice, highly inaccurate. When a posttrial ad hoc analysis of 1,873 patients with advanced ovarian cancer who had been enrolled in a Gynecologic Oncology Group cooperative trial correlated surgeons’ assessments of “optimal” cytoreduction with objective postoperative radiographic findings (performed, on average, less than 1 month postoperatively) they found that postoperative CT scans identified lesions >1 cm in 40% of cases that had been characterized by surgeons as an “optimal” cytoreduction.³ Most commonly, discrepant lesions were identified in the upper abdominal quadrants and retroperitoneal aortic nodal regions. Therefore, surgeons’ subjective assessment of cytoreduction is prone to error, and given how important the completeness of cytoreduction is for clinical outcomes, there is interest in discovering methods to improve upon surgeons’ ability to discriminate volume of disease.

Pafolacianine (Cytalux, On Target Laboratories) is a novel drug that binds a fluorescent molecule to folic acid targeting the folate alpha receptors which are overexpressed on nonmucinous epithelial ovarian cancer cells compared with adjacent nonmalignant tissues.⁴ The drug is intravenously infused preoperatively and then visualized with companion near-infrared imaging devices during surgery to visualize its fluorescent signal where it is bound to ovarian cancer implants. In a phase 2 study of 178 patients with confirmed or suspected ovarian cancer, pafolacianine was able to detect implants of ovarian cancer in 26.9% of cases where the surgeon’s visual inspection was negative.⁵ Of note, the false-positive rate of this drug was not trivial, at 20%. Based on this efficacy data, the drug has been granted FDA approved for use in ovarian cancer surgery to augment the surgeon’s visualization of cancer. However, important questions remain unanswered by these preliminary data.

Will removal of additional microscopic ovarian cancer implants, only seen by pafolacianine, improve the survival of patients with ovarian cancer, and what effect will the addition of this extra surgery have on their surgical morbidity and risk? The use of pafolacianine to augment ovarian cancer debulking surgeries pivots on the premise that ovarian cancer outcomes are determined by surgical “effort” more than the biology of the disease. Otherwise said: The more we surgically remove, the more we cure. But this seems an old-fashioned notion, increasingly challenged by data. It has been shown that, when ovarian cancer debulking surgeries are necessarily more radical because of extensive disease distribution, prognosis is worse, compared with those patients with less extensive disease distribution.⁶ The effect of surgical effort contributes less than that of predetermined patterns of disease presentation. Additionally, genomic traits are different in tumors that are objectively determined to be not amenable to optimal cytoreduction, compared with resectable tumors.⁷ These data suggest that it is the disease, more than the surgeon, that most influences outcomes.

Additionally, the question of whether surgical removal of microscopic disease improves ovarian cancer survival has already been addressed with negative findings. The LION trial randomized 647 women with advanced ovarian cancer to primary cytoreductive surgery either with or without routine lymphadenectomy of clinically negative nodes.⁸ This study found no survival benefit to resecting clinically negative, microscopically positive nodes. In light of these data, it is difficult to imagine that there would be different results with the resection of microscopic peritoneal disease implants identified by pafolacianine.

While pafolacianine promises to move us closer to a true “R0” (negative margins) resection of ovarian cancer, is this even a feasible goal in a disease that is widely metastatic, particularly in the peritoneal cavity? What do “negative margins” mean in the peritoneal cavity? The sensitivity of pafolacianine in detecting microscopic disease is obviously not so high that it can guarantee patients a complete resection of a disseminated disease, and we still do not know what absolute benefit is derived from moving a little bit further on the continuum of surgical resection.

Perhaps augmentation of debulking is not the only, or best, use of pafolacianine for ovarian cancer surgery. Perhaps it might serve a role in diagnostics or staging of the disease rather than for a therapeutic purpose. In the meantime, we await ongoing clinical trials in this space to better inform clinicians what benefits, or harms, they might expect from the addition of this new drug as we continue to define the “optimal” surgical procedure for advanced ovarian cancer.

Dr. Emma Rossi is assistant professor in the division of gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Hermanek P, Wittekind C. Semin Surg Oncol 1994;10:12-20.

2. Elattar A et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev 2011 Aug 10;2011(8):CD007565.

3. Eskander RN et al. Gynecol Oncol 2018;149:525-30.

4. Randall LM et al. Gynecol Oncol 2019;155:63-8.

5. Food and Drug Administration. FDA approves pafolacianine for identifying malignant ovarian cancer lesions. 2021 Dec 1.

6. Horowitz NS et al. J Clin Oncol 2015;33:937-43.

7. Lee S et al. Cell Rep. 2020;31:107502.

8. Harter P et al. N Engl J Med 2019;380:822-32.

The goal of advanced ovarian cancer surgery is to remove all gross disease, or all visible and palpable disease implants. This became the established standard when improved survival was consistently observed among patients who had undergone complete surgical resection. Traditionally, definitions of no gross residual disease have been left in the hands, and eyes, of the surgeon. However, new technology has emerged which affords surgeons the ability to visualize ovarian cancer deposits that are imperceptible to the naked eye. But will this improve upon the poor cure rates for advanced ovarian cancer?

Many are familiar with the traditional definitions of “optimal” (less than 1 cm–sized deposits at any one location) and “suboptimal” (greater than 1 cm–sized deposits remaining) when referring to surgical cytoreduction of ovarian cancer. This nomenclature was introduced to define, categorize, and prognosticate patient groups after surgery. In recent years we have moved away from these descriptive definitions of ovarian cancer resection, borrowing from surgical oncology measures of surgical outcomes where “R0” defines surgical resection with negative margins, “R1” includes resection with positive microscopic margins (negative for tumor intraoperatively, but positive on microscopic pathology), and “R2” refers to macroscopic residual disease remaining.¹

In ovarian cancer, surgeons have adopted the expression R0 to include patients in whom there is no gross visible or palpable residual disease, a special, favorable subgrouping of the previous “optimal” group. R1 is applied to patients with macroscopic, residual disease that fits within the traditional “optimal” cytoreduction classification (<1 cm in any one location). Obviously, these are significant variations to the traditional surgical oncology definitions, but not without supporting data. For example, patients with no gross residual disease (now defined as “R0”) have been observed to have improved survival, compared with patients who are “optimally” debulked but with R1 (<1 cm) residual disease.² Therefore, this new goal of complete surgical resection has replaced the previous standard of “optimal” cytoreduction in which small macroscopic residual disease was acceptable.

Whether or not a surgery is completed with no gross residual disease is a subjective assessment made by the surgeon, and in practice, highly inaccurate. When a posttrial ad hoc analysis of 1,873 patients with advanced ovarian cancer who had been enrolled in a Gynecologic Oncology Group cooperative trial correlated surgeons’ assessments of “optimal” cytoreduction with objective postoperative radiographic findings (performed, on average, less than 1 month postoperatively) they found that postoperative CT scans identified lesions >1 cm in 40% of cases that had been characterized by surgeons as an “optimal” cytoreduction.³ Most commonly, discrepant lesions were identified in the upper abdominal quadrants and retroperitoneal aortic nodal regions. Therefore, surgeons’ subjective assessment of cytoreduction is prone to error, and given how important the completeness of cytoreduction is for clinical outcomes, there is interest in discovering methods to improve upon surgeons’ ability to discriminate volume of disease.

Pafolacianine (Cytalux, On Target Laboratories) is a novel drug that binds a fluorescent molecule to folic acid targeting the folate alpha receptors which are overexpressed on nonmucinous epithelial ovarian cancer cells compared with adjacent nonmalignant tissues.⁴ The drug is intravenously infused preoperatively and then visualized with companion near-infrared imaging devices during surgery to visualize its fluorescent signal where it is bound to ovarian cancer implants. In a phase 2 study of 178 patients with confirmed or suspected ovarian cancer, pafolacianine was able to detect implants of ovarian cancer in 26.9% of cases where the surgeon’s visual inspection was negative.⁵ Of note, the false-positive rate of this drug was not trivial, at 20%. Based on this efficacy data, the drug has been granted FDA approved for use in ovarian cancer surgery to augment the surgeon’s visualization of cancer. However, important questions remain unanswered by these preliminary data.

Will removal of additional microscopic ovarian cancer implants, only seen by pafolacianine, improve the survival of patients with ovarian cancer, and what effect will the addition of this extra surgery have on their surgical morbidity and risk? The use of pafolacianine to augment ovarian cancer debulking surgeries pivots on the premise that ovarian cancer outcomes are determined by surgical “effort” more than the biology of the disease. Otherwise said: The more we surgically remove, the more we cure. But this seems an old-fashioned notion, increasingly challenged by data. It has been shown that, when ovarian cancer debulking surgeries are necessarily more radical because of extensive disease distribution, prognosis is worse, compared with those patients with less extensive disease distribution.⁶ The effect of surgical effort contributes less than that of predetermined patterns of disease presentation. Additionally, genomic traits are different in tumors that are objectively determined to be not amenable to optimal cytoreduction, compared with resectable tumors.⁷ These data suggest that it is the disease, more than the surgeon, that most influences outcomes.

Additionally, the question of whether surgical removal of microscopic disease improves ovarian cancer survival has already been addressed with negative findings. The LION trial randomized 647 women with advanced ovarian cancer to primary cytoreductive surgery either with or without routine lymphadenectomy of clinically negative nodes.⁸ This study found no survival benefit to resecting clinically negative, microscopically positive nodes. In light of these data, it is difficult to imagine that there would be different results with the resection of microscopic peritoneal disease implants identified by pafolacianine.

While pafolacianine promises to move us closer to a true “R0” (negative margins) resection of ovarian cancer, is this even a feasible goal in a disease that is widely metastatic, particularly in the peritoneal cavity? What do “negative margins” mean in the peritoneal cavity? The sensitivity of pafolacianine in detecting microscopic disease is obviously not so high that it can guarantee patients a complete resection of a disseminated disease, and we still do not know what absolute benefit is derived from moving a little bit further on the continuum of surgical resection.

Perhaps augmentation of debulking is not the only, or best, use of pafolacianine for ovarian cancer surgery. Perhaps it might serve a role in diagnostics or staging of the disease rather than for a therapeutic purpose. In the meantime, we await ongoing clinical trials in this space to better inform clinicians what benefits, or harms, they might expect from the addition of this new drug as we continue to define the “optimal” surgical procedure for advanced ovarian cancer.

Dr. Emma Rossi is assistant professor in the division of gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Hermanek P, Wittekind C. Semin Surg Oncol 1994;10:12-20.

2. Elattar A et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev 2011 Aug 10;2011(8):CD007565.

3. Eskander RN et al. Gynecol Oncol 2018;149:525-30.

4. Randall LM et al. Gynecol Oncol 2019;155:63-8.

5. Food and Drug Administration. FDA approves pafolacianine for identifying malignant ovarian cancer lesions. 2021 Dec 1.

6. Horowitz NS et al. J Clin Oncol 2015;33:937-43.

7. Lee S et al. Cell Rep. 2020;31:107502.

8. Harter P et al. N Engl J Med 2019;380:822-32.

“Why did the other doctor say that?”

I get that question here and there, and it’s always irritating. How should I know?

Generally it’s referring to something they say their family doctor told them: A scan that showed normal pressure hydrocephalus or multiple sclerosis, but when I actually get the neuroradiologist’s report it was normal. Sometimes it’s an alleged side effect from a drug for which I can find nothing in the literature or something that requires urgent surgery in spite of all objective evidence to the contrary.

These appointments are always frustrating. The patient is upset that what they’ve been told (or at least think they’ve been told) is incorrect. They’ve spent a few weeks doing medical research on Google for a condition they don’t have. They’re angry at me for shooting them down. They’re angry at the person who referred them for not being right. They’re angry that they wasted their time coming to me.

And then they ask me why the other doctor said that. I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Medicine is a less-than-perfect science. Maybe they were looking at the wrong report. Maybe they’d gotten an incorrect “wet read” by phone. (How many doctors today even know where the term came from?) Maybe they were having a bad day, were overwhelmed, and misread something.

There’s also the possibility that the other doctor didn’t say it at all. Many people will only hear what they want to hear. Or they’ve already decided what they have and are claiming “the other doctor” told them just to give credence to it, even if it’s not true.

Such visits often end on an ugly note. The patient doesn’t want to be billed because I didn’t say what they wanted me to say. Or pay a copay. Or just get up and leave.

I try, very hard, to be polite when this happens. I don’t know what really went on at the other office – if what’s claimed even happened at all. Even if the patient is telling the truth, all doctors, like all people, make mistakes. It’s not like they were trying to be wrong or deceptive. I don’t fault my colleagues if they make an error, and hope they feel the same way about me.

But it’s still frustrating when it occurs. In many cases I’m left dictating a polite note back to the referring physician, explaining what happened. I chalk it up to a communication error, or experience, or even just a difficult patient. I never really know for sure.

I don’t think any of us are here to willfully deceive patients. We want to do our best for them. It’s frustrating when something happens to lead them to believe otherwise.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

“Why did the other doctor say that?”

I get that question here and there, and it’s always irritating. How should I know?

Generally it’s referring to something they say their family doctor told them: A scan that showed normal pressure hydrocephalus or multiple sclerosis, but when I actually get the neuroradiologist’s report it was normal. Sometimes it’s an alleged side effect from a drug for which I can find nothing in the literature or something that requires urgent surgery in spite of all objective evidence to the contrary.

These appointments are always frustrating. The patient is upset that what they’ve been told (or at least think they’ve been told) is incorrect. They’ve spent a few weeks doing medical research on Google for a condition they don’t have. They’re angry at me for shooting them down. They’re angry at the person who referred them for not being right. They’re angry that they wasted their time coming to me.

And then they ask me why the other doctor said that. I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Medicine is a less-than-perfect science. Maybe they were looking at the wrong report. Maybe they’d gotten an incorrect “wet read” by phone. (How many doctors today even know where the term came from?) Maybe they were having a bad day, were overwhelmed, and misread something.

There’s also the possibility that the other doctor didn’t say it at all. Many people will only hear what they want to hear. Or they’ve already decided what they have and are claiming “the other doctor” told them just to give credence to it, even if it’s not true.

Such visits often end on an ugly note. The patient doesn’t want to be billed because I didn’t say what they wanted me to say. Or pay a copay. Or just get up and leave.

I try, very hard, to be polite when this happens. I don’t know what really went on at the other office – if what’s claimed even happened at all. Even if the patient is telling the truth, all doctors, like all people, make mistakes. It’s not like they were trying to be wrong or deceptive. I don’t fault my colleagues if they make an error, and hope they feel the same way about me.

But it’s still frustrating when it occurs. In many cases I’m left dictating a polite note back to the referring physician, explaining what happened. I chalk it up to a communication error, or experience, or even just a difficult patient. I never really know for sure.

I don’t think any of us are here to willfully deceive patients. We want to do our best for them. It’s frustrating when something happens to lead them to believe otherwise.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

“Why did the other doctor say that?”

I get that question here and there, and it’s always irritating. How should I know?

Generally it’s referring to something they say their family doctor told them: A scan that showed normal pressure hydrocephalus or multiple sclerosis, but when I actually get the neuroradiologist’s report it was normal. Sometimes it’s an alleged side effect from a drug for which I can find nothing in the literature or something that requires urgent surgery in spite of all objective evidence to the contrary.

These appointments are always frustrating. The patient is upset that what they’ve been told (or at least think they’ve been told) is incorrect. They’ve spent a few weeks doing medical research on Google for a condition they don’t have. They’re angry at me for shooting them down. They’re angry at the person who referred them for not being right. They’re angry that they wasted their time coming to me.

And then they ask me why the other doctor said that. I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Medicine is a less-than-perfect science. Maybe they were looking at the wrong report. Maybe they’d gotten an incorrect “wet read” by phone. (How many doctors today even know where the term came from?) Maybe they were having a bad day, were overwhelmed, and misread something.

There’s also the possibility that the other doctor didn’t say it at all. Many people will only hear what they want to hear. Or they’ve already decided what they have and are claiming “the other doctor” told them just to give credence to it, even if it’s not true.

Such visits often end on an ugly note. The patient doesn’t want to be billed because I didn’t say what they wanted me to say. Or pay a copay. Or just get up and leave.

I try, very hard, to be polite when this happens. I don’t know what really went on at the other office – if what’s claimed even happened at all. Even if the patient is telling the truth, all doctors, like all people, make mistakes. It’s not like they were trying to be wrong or deceptive. I don’t fault my colleagues if they make an error, and hope they feel the same way about me.

But it’s still frustrating when it occurs. In many cases I’m left dictating a polite note back to the referring physician, explaining what happened. I chalk it up to a communication error, or experience, or even just a difficult patient. I never really know for sure.

I don’t think any of us are here to willfully deceive patients. We want to do our best for them. It’s frustrating when something happens to lead them to believe otherwise.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Violence against women remains a global dilemma in need of attention. Physical violence in particular, is the most prevalent type of violence across all genders, races, and nationalities.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says more than 43 million women and 38 million men report experiencing psychological aggression by an intimate partner in their lifetime. Meanwhile, 11 million women and 5 million men report enduring sexual or physical violence and intimate partner violence (IPV), and/or stalking by an intimate partner during their lifetimes, according to the CDC.1

COVID pandemic’s influence

Isolation tied to the COVID-19 pandemic has been linked to increased IPV. A study conducted by researchers at the University of California, Davis, suggested that extra stress experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic caused by income loss, and the inability to pay for housing and food exacerbated the prevalence of IPV early during the pandemic.⁶

That study, where researchers collected in surveys of nearly 400 adults in the beginning in April 2020 for 10 weeks, showed that more services and communication are needed so that frontline health care and food bank workers, for example, in addition to social workers, doctors, and therapists, can spot the signs and ask clients questions about potential IPV. They could then link survivors to pertinent assistance and resources.

Furthermore, multiple factors probably have played a pivotal role in increasing the prevalence of IPV during the COVID-19 pandemic. For instance, disruption to usual health and social services as well as diminished access to support systems, such as shelters, and charity helplines negatively affected the reporting of domestic violence.

Long before the pandemic, over the past decade, international and national bodies have played a crucial role in terms of improving the awareness and response to domestic violence.^7,8 In addition, several policies have been introduced in countries around the globe emphasizing the need to inquire routinely about domestic violence. Nevertheless, mental health services often fail to adequately address domestic violence in clinical encounters. A systematic review of domestic violence assessment screening performed in a variety of health care settings found that evidence was insufficient to conclude that routine inquiry improved morbidity and mortality among victims of IPV.⁹ So the question becomes: How can we get our patients to tell us about these experiences so we can intervene?
 

Gender differences in perpetuating IPV

Several studies have found that abuse can result in various mental illnesses, such as depression, PTSD, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Again, men have a disproportionately higher rate of perpetrating IPV, compared with women. This theory has been a source of debate in the academic community for years, but recent research has confirmed that women do perpetuate violence against their partners to some extent.^10,11

Some members of the LGBTQ+ community also report experiencing violence from partners, so as clinicians, we also need to raise our awareness about the existence of violence among same-sex couples. In fact, a team of Italian researchers report more than 50% of gay men and almost 75% of lesbian women reported that they had been psychologically abused by a partner.¹² More research into this area is needed.
 

Our role as health care professionals

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force advises that all clinic visits include regular IPV screening.¹³ But these screenings are all too rare. In fact, a meta-analysis of 19 trials of more than 1,600 participants showed only 9%-40% of doctors routinely test for IPV.¹⁴ That research clearly shows how important it is for all clinicians to execute IPV screening. However, numerous challenges toward screening exist, including personal discomfort, limited time during appointments, insufficient resources, and inadequate training.

One ongoing debate revolves around which clinician should screen for IPV. Should the psychiatrist carry out this role – or perhaps the primary care physician, nurse, or social worker? These issues become even more fraught when clinicians worry about offending the patient – especially if the clinician is a male.¹⁵

The bottom line is that physicians should inquire about intimate partner violence, because research indicates that women are more likely to reveal abuse when prompted. In addition, during physician appointments, they can use the physician-patient therapeutic connection to conduct a domestic violence evaluation, give resources to victims, and provide ongoing care. Patients who exhibit treatment resistance, persistent pain, depression, sleeplessness, and headaches should prompt psychiatrists to conduct additional investigations into the likelihood of intimate partner violence and domestic abuse.

W also should be attentive when counseling patients about domestic violence when suggesting life-changing events such as pregnancy, employment loss, separation, or divorce. Similar to the recommendations of the USPSTF that all women and men should be screened for IPV, it is suggested that physicians be conscious of facilitating a conversation and not being overtly judgmental while observing body cues. Using the statements such as “we have been hearing a lot of violence in our community lately” could be a segue to introduce the subject.

Asking the question of whether you are being hit rather than being abused has allowed more women to open up more about domestic violence. While physicians are aware that most victims might recant and often go back to their abusers, victims need to be counseled that the abuse might intensify and lead to death.

For women who perpetuate IPV and survivors of IPV, safety is the priority. Physicians should provide safety options and be the facilitators. Studies have shown that fewer victims get the referral to the supporting agencies when IPV is indicated, which puts their safety at risk. In women who commit IPV, clinicians should assess the role of the individual in an IPV disclosure. There are various treatment modalities, whether the violence is performed through self-defense, bidirectionally, or because of aggression.

With the advancement of technology, web-based training on how to ask for IPV, documentation, acknowledgment, and structured referral increase physicians’ confidence when faced with an IPV disclosure than none.¹⁶ Treatment modalities should include medication reconciliation and cognitive-behavioral therapy – focusing on emotion regulation.

Using instruments such as the danger assessment tool can help physicians intervene early, reducing the risk of domestic violence and IPV recurrence instead of using clinical assessment alone.¹⁷ Physicians should convey empathy, validate victims, and help, especially when abuse is reported.

Also, it is important to evaluate survivors’ safety. Counseling can help people rebuild their self-esteem. Structured referrals for psychiatric help and support services are needed to help survivors on the long road to recovery.

Training all physicians, regardless of specialty, is essential to improve prompt IPV identification and bring awareness to resources available to survivors when IPV is disclosed. Although we described an association between IPV victims becoming possible perpetrators of IPV, more long-term studies are required to show the various processes that influence IPV perpetration rates, especially by survivors.

We would also like international and national regulatory bodies to increase the awareness of IPV and adequately address IPV with special emphasis on how mental health services should assess, identify, and respond to services for people who are survivors and perpetrators of IPV.

Dr. Kumari, Dr. Otite, Dr. Afzal, Dr. Alcera, and Dr. Doumas are affiliated with Hackensack Meridian Health at Ocean Medical Center, Brick, N.J. They have no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Preventing intimate partner violence. 2020 Oct 9.

2. Yu R et al. PLOS Med. 16(12):e1002995. doi: 10.1371/journal.pmed.1002995.

3. Oram S et al. Epidemiol Psychiatr Sci. 2014 Dec;23(4):361-76.

4. Munro OE and Sellbom M. Pers Ment Health. 2020 Mar 11. doi: 10.1002/pmh.1480.

5. Sahraian A et al. Asian J Psychiatry. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1016/j.ajp.2020.102062.

6. Nikos-Rose K. “COVID-19 Isolation Linked to Increased Domestic Violence, Researchers Suggest.” 2021 Feb 24. University of California, Davis.

7. World Health Organization. “Responding to intimate partner violence and sexual violence against women.” WHO clinical policy guidelines. 2013.

8. National Institute for Health and Care Excellence. “Domestic violence and abuse: Multi-agency working.” PH50. 2014 Feb 26.

9. Feder GS et al. Arch Intern Med. 2006;166(1):22-37.

10. Gondolf EW. Violence Against Women. 2014 Dec;20(12)1539-46.

11. Hamberger LK and Larsen SE. J Fam Violence. 2015;30(6):699-717.

12. Rollè L et al. Front Psychol. 21 Aug 2018. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01506.

13. Paterno MT and Draughon JE. J Midwif Women Health. 2016;61(31):370-5.

14. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2021 May 31;5(5)CD012423.

15. Larsen SE and Hamberger LK. J Fam Viol. 2015;30:1007-30.

16. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2017 Feb;2017(2):CD012423.

17. Campbell JC et al. J Interpers Violence. 2009;24(4):653-74.

Violence against women remains a global dilemma in need of attention. Physical violence in particular, is the most prevalent type of violence across all genders, races, and nationalities.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says more than 43 million women and 38 million men report experiencing psychological aggression by an intimate partner in their lifetime. Meanwhile, 11 million women and 5 million men report enduring sexual or physical violence and intimate partner violence (IPV), and/or stalking by an intimate partner during their lifetimes, according to the CDC.1

COVID pandemic’s influence

Isolation tied to the COVID-19 pandemic has been linked to increased IPV. A study conducted by researchers at the University of California, Davis, suggested that extra stress experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic caused by income loss, and the inability to pay for housing and food exacerbated the prevalence of IPV early during the pandemic.⁶

That study, where researchers collected in surveys of nearly 400 adults in the beginning in April 2020 for 10 weeks, showed that more services and communication are needed so that frontline health care and food bank workers, for example, in addition to social workers, doctors, and therapists, can spot the signs and ask clients questions about potential IPV. They could then link survivors to pertinent assistance and resources.

Furthermore, multiple factors probably have played a pivotal role in increasing the prevalence of IPV during the COVID-19 pandemic. For instance, disruption to usual health and social services as well as diminished access to support systems, such as shelters, and charity helplines negatively affected the reporting of domestic violence.

Long before the pandemic, over the past decade, international and national bodies have played a crucial role in terms of improving the awareness and response to domestic violence.^7,8 In addition, several policies have been introduced in countries around the globe emphasizing the need to inquire routinely about domestic violence. Nevertheless, mental health services often fail to adequately address domestic violence in clinical encounters. A systematic review of domestic violence assessment screening performed in a variety of health care settings found that evidence was insufficient to conclude that routine inquiry improved morbidity and mortality among victims of IPV.⁹ So the question becomes: How can we get our patients to tell us about these experiences so we can intervene?
 

Gender differences in perpetuating IPV

Several studies have found that abuse can result in various mental illnesses, such as depression, PTSD, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Again, men have a disproportionately higher rate of perpetrating IPV, compared with women. This theory has been a source of debate in the academic community for years, but recent research has confirmed that women do perpetuate violence against their partners to some extent.^10,11

Some members of the LGBTQ+ community also report experiencing violence from partners, so as clinicians, we also need to raise our awareness about the existence of violence among same-sex couples. In fact, a team of Italian researchers report more than 50% of gay men and almost 75% of lesbian women reported that they had been psychologically abused by a partner.¹² More research into this area is needed.
 

Our role as health care professionals

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force advises that all clinic visits include regular IPV screening.¹³ But these screenings are all too rare. In fact, a meta-analysis of 19 trials of more than 1,600 participants showed only 9%-40% of doctors routinely test for IPV.¹⁴ That research clearly shows how important it is for all clinicians to execute IPV screening. However, numerous challenges toward screening exist, including personal discomfort, limited time during appointments, insufficient resources, and inadequate training.

One ongoing debate revolves around which clinician should screen for IPV. Should the psychiatrist carry out this role – or perhaps the primary care physician, nurse, or social worker? These issues become even more fraught when clinicians worry about offending the patient – especially if the clinician is a male.¹⁵

The bottom line is that physicians should inquire about intimate partner violence, because research indicates that women are more likely to reveal abuse when prompted. In addition, during physician appointments, they can use the physician-patient therapeutic connection to conduct a domestic violence evaluation, give resources to victims, and provide ongoing care. Patients who exhibit treatment resistance, persistent pain, depression, sleeplessness, and headaches should prompt psychiatrists to conduct additional investigations into the likelihood of intimate partner violence and domestic abuse.

W also should be attentive when counseling patients about domestic violence when suggesting life-changing events such as pregnancy, employment loss, separation, or divorce. Similar to the recommendations of the USPSTF that all women and men should be screened for IPV, it is suggested that physicians be conscious of facilitating a conversation and not being overtly judgmental while observing body cues. Using the statements such as “we have been hearing a lot of violence in our community lately” could be a segue to introduce the subject.

Asking the question of whether you are being hit rather than being abused has allowed more women to open up more about domestic violence. While physicians are aware that most victims might recant and often go back to their abusers, victims need to be counseled that the abuse might intensify and lead to death.

For women who perpetuate IPV and survivors of IPV, safety is the priority. Physicians should provide safety options and be the facilitators. Studies have shown that fewer victims get the referral to the supporting agencies when IPV is indicated, which puts their safety at risk. In women who commit IPV, clinicians should assess the role of the individual in an IPV disclosure. There are various treatment modalities, whether the violence is performed through self-defense, bidirectionally, or because of aggression.

With the advancement of technology, web-based training on how to ask for IPV, documentation, acknowledgment, and structured referral increase physicians’ confidence when faced with an IPV disclosure than none.¹⁶ Treatment modalities should include medication reconciliation and cognitive-behavioral therapy – focusing on emotion regulation.

Using instruments such as the danger assessment tool can help physicians intervene early, reducing the risk of domestic violence and IPV recurrence instead of using clinical assessment alone.¹⁷ Physicians should convey empathy, validate victims, and help, especially when abuse is reported.

Also, it is important to evaluate survivors’ safety. Counseling can help people rebuild their self-esteem. Structured referrals for psychiatric help and support services are needed to help survivors on the long road to recovery.

Training all physicians, regardless of specialty, is essential to improve prompt IPV identification and bring awareness to resources available to survivors when IPV is disclosed. Although we described an association between IPV victims becoming possible perpetrators of IPV, more long-term studies are required to show the various processes that influence IPV perpetration rates, especially by survivors.

We would also like international and national regulatory bodies to increase the awareness of IPV and adequately address IPV with special emphasis on how mental health services should assess, identify, and respond to services for people who are survivors and perpetrators of IPV.

Dr. Kumari, Dr. Otite, Dr. Afzal, Dr. Alcera, and Dr. Doumas are affiliated with Hackensack Meridian Health at Ocean Medical Center, Brick, N.J. They have no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Preventing intimate partner violence. 2020 Oct 9.

2. Yu R et al. PLOS Med. 16(12):e1002995. doi: 10.1371/journal.pmed.1002995.

3. Oram S et al. Epidemiol Psychiatr Sci. 2014 Dec;23(4):361-76.

4. Munro OE and Sellbom M. Pers Ment Health. 2020 Mar 11. doi: 10.1002/pmh.1480.

5. Sahraian A et al. Asian J Psychiatry. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1016/j.ajp.2020.102062.

6. Nikos-Rose K. “COVID-19 Isolation Linked to Increased Domestic Violence, Researchers Suggest.” 2021 Feb 24. University of California, Davis.

7. World Health Organization. “Responding to intimate partner violence and sexual violence against women.” WHO clinical policy guidelines. 2013.

8. National Institute for Health and Care Excellence. “Domestic violence and abuse: Multi-agency working.” PH50. 2014 Feb 26.

9. Feder GS et al. Arch Intern Med. 2006;166(1):22-37.

10. Gondolf EW. Violence Against Women. 2014 Dec;20(12)1539-46.

11. Hamberger LK and Larsen SE. J Fam Violence. 2015;30(6):699-717.

12. Rollè L et al. Front Psychol. 21 Aug 2018. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01506.

13. Paterno MT and Draughon JE. J Midwif Women Health. 2016;61(31):370-5.

14. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2021 May 31;5(5)CD012423.

15. Larsen SE and Hamberger LK. J Fam Viol. 2015;30:1007-30.

16. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2017 Feb;2017(2):CD012423.

17. Campbell JC et al. J Interpers Violence. 2009;24(4):653-74.

Violence against women remains a global dilemma in need of attention. Physical violence in particular, is the most prevalent type of violence across all genders, races, and nationalities.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says more than 43 million women and 38 million men report experiencing psychological aggression by an intimate partner in their lifetime. Meanwhile, 11 million women and 5 million men report enduring sexual or physical violence and intimate partner violence (IPV), and/or stalking by an intimate partner during their lifetimes, according to the CDC.1

COVID pandemic’s influence

Isolation tied to the COVID-19 pandemic has been linked to increased IPV. A study conducted by researchers at the University of California, Davis, suggested that extra stress experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic caused by income loss, and the inability to pay for housing and food exacerbated the prevalence of IPV early during the pandemic.⁶

That study, where researchers collected in surveys of nearly 400 adults in the beginning in April 2020 for 10 weeks, showed that more services and communication are needed so that frontline health care and food bank workers, for example, in addition to social workers, doctors, and therapists, can spot the signs and ask clients questions about potential IPV. They could then link survivors to pertinent assistance and resources.

Furthermore, multiple factors probably have played a pivotal role in increasing the prevalence of IPV during the COVID-19 pandemic. For instance, disruption to usual health and social services as well as diminished access to support systems, such as shelters, and charity helplines negatively affected the reporting of domestic violence.

Long before the pandemic, over the past decade, international and national bodies have played a crucial role in terms of improving the awareness and response to domestic violence.^7,8 In addition, several policies have been introduced in countries around the globe emphasizing the need to inquire routinely about domestic violence. Nevertheless, mental health services often fail to adequately address domestic violence in clinical encounters. A systematic review of domestic violence assessment screening performed in a variety of health care settings found that evidence was insufficient to conclude that routine inquiry improved morbidity and mortality among victims of IPV.⁹ So the question becomes: How can we get our patients to tell us about these experiences so we can intervene?
 

Gender differences in perpetuating IPV

Several studies have found that abuse can result in various mental illnesses, such as depression, PTSD, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Again, men have a disproportionately higher rate of perpetrating IPV, compared with women. This theory has been a source of debate in the academic community for years, but recent research has confirmed that women do perpetuate violence against their partners to some extent.^10,11

Some members of the LGBTQ+ community also report experiencing violence from partners, so as clinicians, we also need to raise our awareness about the existence of violence among same-sex couples. In fact, a team of Italian researchers report more than 50% of gay men and almost 75% of lesbian women reported that they had been psychologically abused by a partner.¹² More research into this area is needed.
 

Our role as health care professionals

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force advises that all clinic visits include regular IPV screening.¹³ But these screenings are all too rare. In fact, a meta-analysis of 19 trials of more than 1,600 participants showed only 9%-40% of doctors routinely test for IPV.¹⁴ That research clearly shows how important it is for all clinicians to execute IPV screening. However, numerous challenges toward screening exist, including personal discomfort, limited time during appointments, insufficient resources, and inadequate training.

One ongoing debate revolves around which clinician should screen for IPV. Should the psychiatrist carry out this role – or perhaps the primary care physician, nurse, or social worker? These issues become even more fraught when clinicians worry about offending the patient – especially if the clinician is a male.¹⁵

The bottom line is that physicians should inquire about intimate partner violence, because research indicates that women are more likely to reveal abuse when prompted. In addition, during physician appointments, they can use the physician-patient therapeutic connection to conduct a domestic violence evaluation, give resources to victims, and provide ongoing care. Patients who exhibit treatment resistance, persistent pain, depression, sleeplessness, and headaches should prompt psychiatrists to conduct additional investigations into the likelihood of intimate partner violence and domestic abuse.

W also should be attentive when counseling patients about domestic violence when suggesting life-changing events such as pregnancy, employment loss, separation, or divorce. Similar to the recommendations of the USPSTF that all women and men should be screened for IPV, it is suggested that physicians be conscious of facilitating a conversation and not being overtly judgmental while observing body cues. Using the statements such as “we have been hearing a lot of violence in our community lately” could be a segue to introduce the subject.

Asking the question of whether you are being hit rather than being abused has allowed more women to open up more about domestic violence. While physicians are aware that most victims might recant and often go back to their abusers, victims need to be counseled that the abuse might intensify and lead to death.

For women who perpetuate IPV and survivors of IPV, safety is the priority. Physicians should provide safety options and be the facilitators. Studies have shown that fewer victims get the referral to the supporting agencies when IPV is indicated, which puts their safety at risk. In women who commit IPV, clinicians should assess the role of the individual in an IPV disclosure. There are various treatment modalities, whether the violence is performed through self-defense, bidirectionally, or because of aggression.

With the advancement of technology, web-based training on how to ask for IPV, documentation, acknowledgment, and structured referral increase physicians’ confidence when faced with an IPV disclosure than none.¹⁶ Treatment modalities should include medication reconciliation and cognitive-behavioral therapy – focusing on emotion regulation.

Using instruments such as the danger assessment tool can help physicians intervene early, reducing the risk of domestic violence and IPV recurrence instead of using clinical assessment alone.¹⁷ Physicians should convey empathy, validate victims, and help, especially when abuse is reported.

Also, it is important to evaluate survivors’ safety. Counseling can help people rebuild their self-esteem. Structured referrals for psychiatric help and support services are needed to help survivors on the long road to recovery.

Training all physicians, regardless of specialty, is essential to improve prompt IPV identification and bring awareness to resources available to survivors when IPV is disclosed. Although we described an association between IPV victims becoming possible perpetrators of IPV, more long-term studies are required to show the various processes that influence IPV perpetration rates, especially by survivors.

We would also like international and national regulatory bodies to increase the awareness of IPV and adequately address IPV with special emphasis on how mental health services should assess, identify, and respond to services for people who are survivors and perpetrators of IPV.

Dr. Kumari, Dr. Otite, Dr. Afzal, Dr. Alcera, and Dr. Doumas are affiliated with Hackensack Meridian Health at Ocean Medical Center, Brick, N.J. They have no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Preventing intimate partner violence. 2020 Oct 9.

2. Yu R et al. PLOS Med. 16(12):e1002995. doi: 10.1371/journal.pmed.1002995.

3. Oram S et al. Epidemiol Psychiatr Sci. 2014 Dec;23(4):361-76.

4. Munro OE and Sellbom M. Pers Ment Health. 2020 Mar 11. doi: 10.1002/pmh.1480.

5. Sahraian A et al. Asian J Psychiatry. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1016/j.ajp.2020.102062.

6. Nikos-Rose K. “COVID-19 Isolation Linked to Increased Domestic Violence, Researchers Suggest.” 2021 Feb 24. University of California, Davis.

7. World Health Organization. “Responding to intimate partner violence and sexual violence against women.” WHO clinical policy guidelines. 2013.

8. National Institute for Health and Care Excellence. “Domestic violence and abuse: Multi-agency working.” PH50. 2014 Feb 26.

9. Feder GS et al. Arch Intern Med. 2006;166(1):22-37.

10. Gondolf EW. Violence Against Women. 2014 Dec;20(12)1539-46.

11. Hamberger LK and Larsen SE. J Fam Violence. 2015;30(6):699-717.

12. Rollè L et al. Front Psychol. 21 Aug 2018. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01506.

13. Paterno MT and Draughon JE. J Midwif Women Health. 2016;61(31):370-5.

14. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2021 May 31;5(5)CD012423.

15. Larsen SE and Hamberger LK. J Fam Viol. 2015;30:1007-30.

16. Kalra N et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2017 Feb;2017(2):CD012423.

17. Campbell JC et al. J Interpers Violence. 2009;24(4):653-74.

Depending on the data you’re looking at, 40%-60% of physicians are burned out.

Research studies and the eye test reveal the painfully obvious: Colleagues are tired, winded, spent, and at times way past burned out. People aren’t asking me if they’re burned out. They know they’re burned out; heck, they can even recite the Maslach burnout inventory, forward and backward, in a mask, or while completing a COVID quarantine. A fair share of people know the key steps to prevent burnout and promote recovery.

What I’m starting to see more of is, “Why should I even bother to recover from this? Why pick myself up again just to get another occupational stress injury (burnout, demoralization, moral injury, etc.)?” In other words, it’s not just simply about negating burnout; it’s about supporting and facilitating the motivation to work.

We’ve been through so much with COVID that it might be challenging to remember when you saw a truly engaged work environment. No doubt, we have outstanding professionals across medicine who answer the bell every day. However, if you’ve been looking closely, many teams/units have lost a bit of the zip and pep. The synergy and trust aren’t as smooth, and at noon, everyone counts the hours to the end of the shift.

You may be thinking, Well, of course, they are; we’re still amid a pandemic, and people have been through hell. Your observation would be correct, except I’ve personally seen some teams weather the pandemic storm and still remain engaged (some even more involved).

The No. 1 consult result for the GW Resiliency and Well-Being Center, where I work, has been on lectures for burnout. The R&WC has given so many of these lectures that my dreams take the form of a PowerPoint presentation. Overall the talks have gone very well. We’ve added skills sections on practices of whole-person care. We’ve blitzed the daylights out of restorative sleep, yet I know we are still searching for the correct narrative.

Motivated staff, faculty, and students will genuinely take in the information and follow the recommendations; however, they still struggle to find that drive and zest for work. Yes, moving from burnout to neutral is reasonable but likely won’t move the needle of your professional or personal life. We need to have the emotional energy and the clear desire to utilize that energy for a meaningful purpose.

Talking about burnout in specific ways is straightforward and, in my opinion, much easier than talking about engagement. Part of the challenge when trying to discuss engagement is that people can feel invalidated or that you’re telling them to be stoic. Or worse yet, that the problem of burnout primarily lies with them. It’s essential to recognize the role of an organizational factor in burnout (approximately 80%, depending on the study); still, even if you address burnout, people may not be miserable, but it doesn’t mean they will stay at their current job (please cue intro music for the Great Resignation).

Engagement models have existed for some time and certainly have gained much more attention in health care settings over the past 2 decades. Engagement can be described as having three components: dedication, vigor, and absorption. When a person is filling all three of these components over time, presto – you get the much-sought-after state of the supremely engaged professional.

These models definitely give us excellent starting points to approach engagement from a pre-COVID era. In COVID and beyond, I’m not sure how these models will stand up in a hybrid work environment, where autonomy and flexibility could be more valued than ever. Personally, COVID revealed some things I was missing in my work pre-COVID:

• Time to think and process. This was one of the great things about being a consultation-liaison psychiatrist; it was literally feast or famine.
• Doing what I’m talented at and really enjoy.
• Time is short, and I want to be more present in the life of my family.
• Growth and curiosity are vitally important to me. These have to be part of my daily ritual and practice.

The list above isn’t exhaustive, but I’ve found them to be my own personal recipe for being engaged. Over the next series of articles, I’m going to focus on engagement and factors related to key resilience. These articles will be informed by a front-line view from my colleagues, and hopefully start to separate the myth from reality on the subject of health professional engagement and resilience.

Everyone be safe and well!

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Depending on the data you’re looking at, 40%-60% of physicians are burned out.

Research studies and the eye test reveal the painfully obvious: Colleagues are tired, winded, spent, and at times way past burned out. People aren’t asking me if they’re burned out. They know they’re burned out; heck, they can even recite the Maslach burnout inventory, forward and backward, in a mask, or while completing a COVID quarantine. A fair share of people know the key steps to prevent burnout and promote recovery.

What I’m starting to see more of is, “Why should I even bother to recover from this? Why pick myself up again just to get another occupational stress injury (burnout, demoralization, moral injury, etc.)?” In other words, it’s not just simply about negating burnout; it’s about supporting and facilitating the motivation to work.

We’ve been through so much with COVID that it might be challenging to remember when you saw a truly engaged work environment. No doubt, we have outstanding professionals across medicine who answer the bell every day. However, if you’ve been looking closely, many teams/units have lost a bit of the zip and pep. The synergy and trust aren’t as smooth, and at noon, everyone counts the hours to the end of the shift.

You may be thinking, Well, of course, they are; we’re still amid a pandemic, and people have been through hell. Your observation would be correct, except I’ve personally seen some teams weather the pandemic storm and still remain engaged (some even more involved).

The No. 1 consult result for the GW Resiliency and Well-Being Center, where I work, has been on lectures for burnout. The R&WC has given so many of these lectures that my dreams take the form of a PowerPoint presentation. Overall the talks have gone very well. We’ve added skills sections on practices of whole-person care. We’ve blitzed the daylights out of restorative sleep, yet I know we are still searching for the correct narrative.

Motivated staff, faculty, and students will genuinely take in the information and follow the recommendations; however, they still struggle to find that drive and zest for work. Yes, moving from burnout to neutral is reasonable but likely won’t move the needle of your professional or personal life. We need to have the emotional energy and the clear desire to utilize that energy for a meaningful purpose.

Talking about burnout in specific ways is straightforward and, in my opinion, much easier than talking about engagement. Part of the challenge when trying to discuss engagement is that people can feel invalidated or that you’re telling them to be stoic. Or worse yet, that the problem of burnout primarily lies with them. It’s essential to recognize the role of an organizational factor in burnout (approximately 80%, depending on the study); still, even if you address burnout, people may not be miserable, but it doesn’t mean they will stay at their current job (please cue intro music for the Great Resignation).

Engagement models have existed for some time and certainly have gained much more attention in health care settings over the past 2 decades. Engagement can be described as having three components: dedication, vigor, and absorption. When a person is filling all three of these components over time, presto – you get the much-sought-after state of the supremely engaged professional.

These models definitely give us excellent starting points to approach engagement from a pre-COVID era. In COVID and beyond, I’m not sure how these models will stand up in a hybrid work environment, where autonomy and flexibility could be more valued than ever. Personally, COVID revealed some things I was missing in my work pre-COVID:

• Time to think and process. This was one of the great things about being a consultation-liaison psychiatrist; it was literally feast or famine.
• Doing what I’m talented at and really enjoy.
• Time is short, and I want to be more present in the life of my family.
• Growth and curiosity are vitally important to me. These have to be part of my daily ritual and practice.

The list above isn’t exhaustive, but I’ve found them to be my own personal recipe for being engaged. Over the next series of articles, I’m going to focus on engagement and factors related to key resilience. These articles will be informed by a front-line view from my colleagues, and hopefully start to separate the myth from reality on the subject of health professional engagement and resilience.

Everyone be safe and well!

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Depending on the data you’re looking at, 40%-60% of physicians are burned out.

Research studies and the eye test reveal the painfully obvious: Colleagues are tired, winded, spent, and at times way past burned out. People aren’t asking me if they’re burned out. They know they’re burned out; heck, they can even recite the Maslach burnout inventory, forward and backward, in a mask, or while completing a COVID quarantine. A fair share of people know the key steps to prevent burnout and promote recovery.

What I’m starting to see more of is, “Why should I even bother to recover from this? Why pick myself up again just to get another occupational stress injury (burnout, demoralization, moral injury, etc.)?” In other words, it’s not just simply about negating burnout; it’s about supporting and facilitating the motivation to work.

We’ve been through so much with COVID that it might be challenging to remember when you saw a truly engaged work environment. No doubt, we have outstanding professionals across medicine who answer the bell every day. However, if you’ve been looking closely, many teams/units have lost a bit of the zip and pep. The synergy and trust aren’t as smooth, and at noon, everyone counts the hours to the end of the shift.

You may be thinking, Well, of course, they are; we’re still amid a pandemic, and people have been through hell. Your observation would be correct, except I’ve personally seen some teams weather the pandemic storm and still remain engaged (some even more involved).

The No. 1 consult result for the GW Resiliency and Well-Being Center, where I work, has been on lectures for burnout. The R&WC has given so many of these lectures that my dreams take the form of a PowerPoint presentation. Overall the talks have gone very well. We’ve added skills sections on practices of whole-person care. We’ve blitzed the daylights out of restorative sleep, yet I know we are still searching for the correct narrative.

Motivated staff, faculty, and students will genuinely take in the information and follow the recommendations; however, they still struggle to find that drive and zest for work. Yes, moving from burnout to neutral is reasonable but likely won’t move the needle of your professional or personal life. We need to have the emotional energy and the clear desire to utilize that energy for a meaningful purpose.

Talking about burnout in specific ways is straightforward and, in my opinion, much easier than talking about engagement. Part of the challenge when trying to discuss engagement is that people can feel invalidated or that you’re telling them to be stoic. Or worse yet, that the problem of burnout primarily lies with them. It’s essential to recognize the role of an organizational factor in burnout (approximately 80%, depending on the study); still, even if you address burnout, people may not be miserable, but it doesn’t mean they will stay at their current job (please cue intro music for the Great Resignation).

Engagement models have existed for some time and certainly have gained much more attention in health care settings over the past 2 decades. Engagement can be described as having three components: dedication, vigor, and absorption. When a person is filling all three of these components over time, presto – you get the much-sought-after state of the supremely engaged professional.

These models definitely give us excellent starting points to approach engagement from a pre-COVID era. In COVID and beyond, I’m not sure how these models will stand up in a hybrid work environment, where autonomy and flexibility could be more valued than ever. Personally, COVID revealed some things I was missing in my work pre-COVID:

• Time to think and process. This was one of the great things about being a consultation-liaison psychiatrist; it was literally feast or famine.
• Doing what I’m talented at and really enjoy.
• Time is short, and I want to be more present in the life of my family.
• Growth and curiosity are vitally important to me. These have to be part of my daily ritual and practice.

The list above isn’t exhaustive, but I’ve found them to be my own personal recipe for being engaged. Over the next series of articles, I’m going to focus on engagement and factors related to key resilience. These articles will be informed by a front-line view from my colleagues, and hopefully start to separate the myth from reality on the subject of health professional engagement and resilience.

Everyone be safe and well!

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

The experience of practicing reproductive psychiatry in the context of the pandemic has highlighted unique situations I’ve written about in previous columns that have affected pregnant and postpartum women during the pandemic, such as the management of anxiety and insomnia.

The pandemic has also seen a shift to telemedicine and an opportunity to use virtual platforms to engage with colleagues in our subspecialty across the country. These forums of engagement, which we realize virtually with so many of our colleagues, has prompted me to refine and galvanize what I consider to be some principles that guide frequently encountered clinical scenarios in reproductive psychiatry.

To open 2022, I wanted to revisit the practices I nearly “always” (or conversely, “never”) follow as a reproductive psychiatrist across the numerous clinical situations and variations on the associated clinical themes encountered as we see patients during pregnancy and the postpartum period.
 

Things we ‘always’ do

1. I continue to make maternal euthymia the North Star of treatment before, during, and after pregnancy.

Before pregnancy, maternal euthymia may be realized through optimization of pharmacologic and nonpharmacologic treatments and waiting to conceive until patients are emotionally well. Sustaining euthymia during pregnancy is a critical issue because of the extent to which euthymia during pregnancy predicts postpartum course. According to many studies, postpartum euthymia is the strongest predictor of long-term neurobehavioral outcome and risk for later child psychopathology. At the end of the day, there are few things I would not do with respect to treatment of maternal psychiatric disorder if the upside afforded maternal euthymia.

2. I almost always treat with consistency of medication across the peripartum period.

Although there have been discussions about the wisdom of changing medications, such as antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and mood stabilizers, that have afforded euthymia during pregnancy as patients approach their delivery date, the evidence base supporting switching medications at that time is exceedingly sparse. The time to adjust or to modify is typically not just prior to delivery unless it is to prevent postpartum psychiatric disorder (see below).

3. I simplify regimens before pregnancy if it’s unclear which medications have afforded patients euthymia.

We have a growing appreciation that polypharmacy is the rule in treatment of affective disorder for both unipolar and bipolar illness. Consultation before pregnancy is the ideal time to take a particularly careful history and think about simplifying regimens where adding medicines hasn’t clearly provided enhanced clinical benefit to the patient.

4. When making a treatment plan for psychiatric disorder during pregnancy, I consider the impact of untreated psychiatric disorder (even if not absolutely quantifiable) on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

Perhaps now more than even 5-10 years ago, we have better data describing the adverse effects of untreated psychiatric illness on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

We always try to deliberately consider the effect of a specific treatment on fetal well-being. Less attention (and science) has focused on the effect on pregnancy of deferring treatment; historically, this has not been adequately quantified in the risk-benefit decision. Yet, there is growing evidence of the increased adverse effects of activating the stress axis on everything from intrauterine fetal programming in the brain to effects on obstetrical outcomes such as preterm labor and delivery.

5. I appreciate the value of postpartum prophylaxis for pregnant women with bipolar disorder to mitigate risk of relapse.

We have spoken over the last 20 months of the pandemic, particularly in reproductive psychiatry circles, about the importance of keeping reproductive-age women with bipolar disorder emotionally well as they plan to conceive, during pregnancy, and in the postpartum period. The management of bipolar disorder during this time can be a humbling experience. Clinical roughening can be quick and severe, and so we do everything that we can for these women.

The area in which we have the strongest evidence base for mitigating risk with bipolar women is the value of postpartum prophylaxis during the peripartum period, regardless of what patients have done with their mood-stabilizing medications during pregnancy. Given the risk for postpartum disease, even though there are varying amounts of evidence on prophylactic benefit of specific mood stabilizers (i.e., lithium vs. atypical antipsychotics), the value of prophylaxis against worsening of bipolar disorder postpartum is widely accepted.

The importance of this has been particularly underscored during the pandemic where postpartum support, although available, has been more tenuous given the fluctuations in COVID-19 status around the country. The availability of friends and loved ones as support during the postpartum period has become less reliable in certain circumstances during the pandemic. In some cases, COVID-19 surges have wreaked havoc on travel plans and support persons have contracted the virus, rendering on-site support nonviable given safety concerns. Last-minute shifts of support plans have been responsible for disruption of care plans for new moms and by extension, have affected the ability to protect the sleep of bipolar women, which is critical. Keeping bipolar women well during the postpartum period with plans and backup plans for management remains critical.
 

Things we ‘never’ do

1. I never taper antidepressants (just prior to delivery), I never check plasma levels of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (across pregnancy, or just prior to labor and delivery), and I never use sodium valproate (during pregnancy).

Although there has been some discussion about the potential to mitigate risk for maternal or neonatal toxicity with lowering of agents such as lithium or lamotrigine during pregnancy, I do not routinely check plasma levels or arbitrarily change the dose of antidepressants, lithium, or lamotrigine during pregnancy in the absence of clinical symptoms.

We know full well that plasma levels of medications decline during pregnancy because of hemodilution with lithium and antidepressants and, in the case of lamotrigine, the effects of rising estrogen concentration during pregnancy on the metabolism of lamotrigine. While several studies have shown the decrease of SSRI concentration during pregnancy absent a change in dose of medication, these data have not correlated changes in plasma concentration of SSRI with a frank change in clinical status across pregnancy. Unlike what we see in conditions like epilepsy, where doses are increased to maintain therapeutic plasma levels to mitigate risk for seizure, those therapeutic plasma levels do not clearly exist for the psychiatric medications most widely used to treat psychiatric disorders.

We also almost never use sodium valproate in reproductive-age women despite its efficacy in both the acute and maintenance treatment of bipolar disorder given the risk of both major malformations associated with first-trimester fetal exposure to valproate and the data suggesting longer-term adverse neurobehavioral effects associated with its use during pregnancy.

2. We never suggest patients defer pregnancy based on their underlying psychiatric disorder.

Our role is to provide the best information regarding reproductive safety of psychiatric medications and risks of untreated psychiatric disorder to patients as they and relevant parties weigh the risks of pursuing one treatment or another. Those are private choices, and women and their partners make private decisions applying their own calculus with respect to moving forward with plans to conceive.

3. We never switch antidepressants once a woman has become pregnant.

Although we continue to see patients switched to older SSRIs such as sertraline with documentation of pregnancy, a patient’s road to getting well is sometimes very lengthy. In the absence of indicting reproductive safety data for any particular antidepressant, for patients who have gotten well on an antidepressant, even one for which we have less information, we stay the course and do not switch arbitrarily to an older SSRI for which we may have more reproductive safety data.

If we have the luxury prior to pregnancy to switch a patient to an untried and better studied antidepressant with more data supporting safety, we do so. But this is rarely the case. More often, we see women presenting with a newly documented pregnancy (frequently unplanned, with half of pregnancies across the country still being unplanned across sociodemographic lines) on an antidepressant with varying amounts of reproductive safety information available for the medicine being taken, and frequently after failed previous trials of other antidepressants. In this scenario, we rarely see the time of a newly documented pregnancy as an opportunity to pursue a new trial of an antidepressant without known efficacy for that patient; we stay the course and hope for sustained euthymia on the drug which has afforded euthymia to date.
 

Final thoughts

Dos and don’ts are relative in reproductive psychiatry. We tend to apply available data and clinical experience as we guide patients on a case-by-case basis, considering the most currently available rigorous reproductive safety data, as well as the individual patient’s clinical status and her personal wishes.

Dr. Cohen is the director of the Ammon-Pinizzotto Center for Women’s Mental Health at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) in Boston, which provides information resources and conducts clinical care and research in reproductive mental health. He has been a consultant to manufacturers of psychiatric medications. Email Dr. Cohen at [email protected].

The experience of practicing reproductive psychiatry in the context of the pandemic has highlighted unique situations I’ve written about in previous columns that have affected pregnant and postpartum women during the pandemic, such as the management of anxiety and insomnia.

The pandemic has also seen a shift to telemedicine and an opportunity to use virtual platforms to engage with colleagues in our subspecialty across the country. These forums of engagement, which we realize virtually with so many of our colleagues, has prompted me to refine and galvanize what I consider to be some principles that guide frequently encountered clinical scenarios in reproductive psychiatry.

To open 2022, I wanted to revisit the practices I nearly “always” (or conversely, “never”) follow as a reproductive psychiatrist across the numerous clinical situations and variations on the associated clinical themes encountered as we see patients during pregnancy and the postpartum period.
 

Things we ‘always’ do

1. I continue to make maternal euthymia the North Star of treatment before, during, and after pregnancy.

Before pregnancy, maternal euthymia may be realized through optimization of pharmacologic and nonpharmacologic treatments and waiting to conceive until patients are emotionally well. Sustaining euthymia during pregnancy is a critical issue because of the extent to which euthymia during pregnancy predicts postpartum course. According to many studies, postpartum euthymia is the strongest predictor of long-term neurobehavioral outcome and risk for later child psychopathology. At the end of the day, there are few things I would not do with respect to treatment of maternal psychiatric disorder if the upside afforded maternal euthymia.

2. I almost always treat with consistency of medication across the peripartum period.

Although there have been discussions about the wisdom of changing medications, such as antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and mood stabilizers, that have afforded euthymia during pregnancy as patients approach their delivery date, the evidence base supporting switching medications at that time is exceedingly sparse. The time to adjust or to modify is typically not just prior to delivery unless it is to prevent postpartum psychiatric disorder (see below).

3. I simplify regimens before pregnancy if it’s unclear which medications have afforded patients euthymia.

We have a growing appreciation that polypharmacy is the rule in treatment of affective disorder for both unipolar and bipolar illness. Consultation before pregnancy is the ideal time to take a particularly careful history and think about simplifying regimens where adding medicines hasn’t clearly provided enhanced clinical benefit to the patient.

4. When making a treatment plan for psychiatric disorder during pregnancy, I consider the impact of untreated psychiatric disorder (even if not absolutely quantifiable) on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

Perhaps now more than even 5-10 years ago, we have better data describing the adverse effects of untreated psychiatric illness on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

We always try to deliberately consider the effect of a specific treatment on fetal well-being. Less attention (and science) has focused on the effect on pregnancy of deferring treatment; historically, this has not been adequately quantified in the risk-benefit decision. Yet, there is growing evidence of the increased adverse effects of activating the stress axis on everything from intrauterine fetal programming in the brain to effects on obstetrical outcomes such as preterm labor and delivery.

5. I appreciate the value of postpartum prophylaxis for pregnant women with bipolar disorder to mitigate risk of relapse.

We have spoken over the last 20 months of the pandemic, particularly in reproductive psychiatry circles, about the importance of keeping reproductive-age women with bipolar disorder emotionally well as they plan to conceive, during pregnancy, and in the postpartum period. The management of bipolar disorder during this time can be a humbling experience. Clinical roughening can be quick and severe, and so we do everything that we can for these women.

The area in which we have the strongest evidence base for mitigating risk with bipolar women is the value of postpartum prophylaxis during the peripartum period, regardless of what patients have done with their mood-stabilizing medications during pregnancy. Given the risk for postpartum disease, even though there are varying amounts of evidence on prophylactic benefit of specific mood stabilizers (i.e., lithium vs. atypical antipsychotics), the value of prophylaxis against worsening of bipolar disorder postpartum is widely accepted.

The importance of this has been particularly underscored during the pandemic where postpartum support, although available, has been more tenuous given the fluctuations in COVID-19 status around the country. The availability of friends and loved ones as support during the postpartum period has become less reliable in certain circumstances during the pandemic. In some cases, COVID-19 surges have wreaked havoc on travel plans and support persons have contracted the virus, rendering on-site support nonviable given safety concerns. Last-minute shifts of support plans have been responsible for disruption of care plans for new moms and by extension, have affected the ability to protect the sleep of bipolar women, which is critical. Keeping bipolar women well during the postpartum period with plans and backup plans for management remains critical.
 

Things we ‘never’ do

1. I never taper antidepressants (just prior to delivery), I never check plasma levels of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (across pregnancy, or just prior to labor and delivery), and I never use sodium valproate (during pregnancy).

Although there has been some discussion about the potential to mitigate risk for maternal or neonatal toxicity with lowering of agents such as lithium or lamotrigine during pregnancy, I do not routinely check plasma levels or arbitrarily change the dose of antidepressants, lithium, or lamotrigine during pregnancy in the absence of clinical symptoms.

We know full well that plasma levels of medications decline during pregnancy because of hemodilution with lithium and antidepressants and, in the case of lamotrigine, the effects of rising estrogen concentration during pregnancy on the metabolism of lamotrigine. While several studies have shown the decrease of SSRI concentration during pregnancy absent a change in dose of medication, these data have not correlated changes in plasma concentration of SSRI with a frank change in clinical status across pregnancy. Unlike what we see in conditions like epilepsy, where doses are increased to maintain therapeutic plasma levels to mitigate risk for seizure, those therapeutic plasma levels do not clearly exist for the psychiatric medications most widely used to treat psychiatric disorders.

We also almost never use sodium valproate in reproductive-age women despite its efficacy in both the acute and maintenance treatment of bipolar disorder given the risk of both major malformations associated with first-trimester fetal exposure to valproate and the data suggesting longer-term adverse neurobehavioral effects associated with its use during pregnancy.

2. We never suggest patients defer pregnancy based on their underlying psychiatric disorder.

Our role is to provide the best information regarding reproductive safety of psychiatric medications and risks of untreated psychiatric disorder to patients as they and relevant parties weigh the risks of pursuing one treatment or another. Those are private choices, and women and their partners make private decisions applying their own calculus with respect to moving forward with plans to conceive.

3. We never switch antidepressants once a woman has become pregnant.

Although we continue to see patients switched to older SSRIs such as sertraline with documentation of pregnancy, a patient’s road to getting well is sometimes very lengthy. In the absence of indicting reproductive safety data for any particular antidepressant, for patients who have gotten well on an antidepressant, even one for which we have less information, we stay the course and do not switch arbitrarily to an older SSRI for which we may have more reproductive safety data.

If we have the luxury prior to pregnancy to switch a patient to an untried and better studied antidepressant with more data supporting safety, we do so. But this is rarely the case. More often, we see women presenting with a newly documented pregnancy (frequently unplanned, with half of pregnancies across the country still being unplanned across sociodemographic lines) on an antidepressant with varying amounts of reproductive safety information available for the medicine being taken, and frequently after failed previous trials of other antidepressants. In this scenario, we rarely see the time of a newly documented pregnancy as an opportunity to pursue a new trial of an antidepressant without known efficacy for that patient; we stay the course and hope for sustained euthymia on the drug which has afforded euthymia to date.
 

Final thoughts

Dos and don’ts are relative in reproductive psychiatry. We tend to apply available data and clinical experience as we guide patients on a case-by-case basis, considering the most currently available rigorous reproductive safety data, as well as the individual patient’s clinical status and her personal wishes.

Dr. Cohen is the director of the Ammon-Pinizzotto Center for Women’s Mental Health at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) in Boston, which provides information resources and conducts clinical care and research in reproductive mental health. He has been a consultant to manufacturers of psychiatric medications. Email Dr. Cohen at [email protected].

The experience of practicing reproductive psychiatry in the context of the pandemic has highlighted unique situations I’ve written about in previous columns that have affected pregnant and postpartum women during the pandemic, such as the management of anxiety and insomnia.

The pandemic has also seen a shift to telemedicine and an opportunity to use virtual platforms to engage with colleagues in our subspecialty across the country. These forums of engagement, which we realize virtually with so many of our colleagues, has prompted me to refine and galvanize what I consider to be some principles that guide frequently encountered clinical scenarios in reproductive psychiatry.

To open 2022, I wanted to revisit the practices I nearly “always” (or conversely, “never”) follow as a reproductive psychiatrist across the numerous clinical situations and variations on the associated clinical themes encountered as we see patients during pregnancy and the postpartum period.
 

Things we ‘always’ do

1. I continue to make maternal euthymia the North Star of treatment before, during, and after pregnancy.

Before pregnancy, maternal euthymia may be realized through optimization of pharmacologic and nonpharmacologic treatments and waiting to conceive until patients are emotionally well. Sustaining euthymia during pregnancy is a critical issue because of the extent to which euthymia during pregnancy predicts postpartum course. According to many studies, postpartum euthymia is the strongest predictor of long-term neurobehavioral outcome and risk for later child psychopathology. At the end of the day, there are few things I would not do with respect to treatment of maternal psychiatric disorder if the upside afforded maternal euthymia.

2. I almost always treat with consistency of medication across the peripartum period.

Although there have been discussions about the wisdom of changing medications, such as antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and mood stabilizers, that have afforded euthymia during pregnancy as patients approach their delivery date, the evidence base supporting switching medications at that time is exceedingly sparse. The time to adjust or to modify is typically not just prior to delivery unless it is to prevent postpartum psychiatric disorder (see below).

3. I simplify regimens before pregnancy if it’s unclear which medications have afforded patients euthymia.

We have a growing appreciation that polypharmacy is the rule in treatment of affective disorder for both unipolar and bipolar illness. Consultation before pregnancy is the ideal time to take a particularly careful history and think about simplifying regimens where adding medicines hasn’t clearly provided enhanced clinical benefit to the patient.

4. When making a treatment plan for psychiatric disorder during pregnancy, I consider the impact of untreated psychiatric disorder (even if not absolutely quantifiable) on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

Perhaps now more than even 5-10 years ago, we have better data describing the adverse effects of untreated psychiatric illness on fetal, neonatal, and maternal well-being.

We always try to deliberately consider the effect of a specific treatment on fetal well-being. Less attention (and science) has focused on the effect on pregnancy of deferring treatment; historically, this has not been adequately quantified in the risk-benefit decision. Yet, there is growing evidence of the increased adverse effects of activating the stress axis on everything from intrauterine fetal programming in the brain to effects on obstetrical outcomes such as preterm labor and delivery.

5. I appreciate the value of postpartum prophylaxis for pregnant women with bipolar disorder to mitigate risk of relapse.

We have spoken over the last 20 months of the pandemic, particularly in reproductive psychiatry circles, about the importance of keeping reproductive-age women with bipolar disorder emotionally well as they plan to conceive, during pregnancy, and in the postpartum period. The management of bipolar disorder during this time can be a humbling experience. Clinical roughening can be quick and severe, and so we do everything that we can for these women.

The area in which we have the strongest evidence base for mitigating risk with bipolar women is the value of postpartum prophylaxis during the peripartum period, regardless of what patients have done with their mood-stabilizing medications during pregnancy. Given the risk for postpartum disease, even though there are varying amounts of evidence on prophylactic benefit of specific mood stabilizers (i.e., lithium vs. atypical antipsychotics), the value of prophylaxis against worsening of bipolar disorder postpartum is widely accepted.

The importance of this has been particularly underscored during the pandemic where postpartum support, although available, has been more tenuous given the fluctuations in COVID-19 status around the country. The availability of friends and loved ones as support during the postpartum period has become less reliable in certain circumstances during the pandemic. In some cases, COVID-19 surges have wreaked havoc on travel plans and support persons have contracted the virus, rendering on-site support nonviable given safety concerns. Last-minute shifts of support plans have been responsible for disruption of care plans for new moms and by extension, have affected the ability to protect the sleep of bipolar women, which is critical. Keeping bipolar women well during the postpartum period with plans and backup plans for management remains critical.
 

Things we ‘never’ do

1. I never taper antidepressants (just prior to delivery), I never check plasma levels of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (across pregnancy, or just prior to labor and delivery), and I never use sodium valproate (during pregnancy).

Although there has been some discussion about the potential to mitigate risk for maternal or neonatal toxicity with lowering of agents such as lithium or lamotrigine during pregnancy, I do not routinely check plasma levels or arbitrarily change the dose of antidepressants, lithium, or lamotrigine during pregnancy in the absence of clinical symptoms.

We know full well that plasma levels of medications decline during pregnancy because of hemodilution with lithium and antidepressants and, in the case of lamotrigine, the effects of rising estrogen concentration during pregnancy on the metabolism of lamotrigine. While several studies have shown the decrease of SSRI concentration during pregnancy absent a change in dose of medication, these data have not correlated changes in plasma concentration of SSRI with a frank change in clinical status across pregnancy. Unlike what we see in conditions like epilepsy, where doses are increased to maintain therapeutic plasma levels to mitigate risk for seizure, those therapeutic plasma levels do not clearly exist for the psychiatric medications most widely used to treat psychiatric disorders.

We also almost never use sodium valproate in reproductive-age women despite its efficacy in both the acute and maintenance treatment of bipolar disorder given the risk of both major malformations associated with first-trimester fetal exposure to valproate and the data suggesting longer-term adverse neurobehavioral effects associated with its use during pregnancy.

2. We never suggest patients defer pregnancy based on their underlying psychiatric disorder.

Our role is to provide the best information regarding reproductive safety of psychiatric medications and risks of untreated psychiatric disorder to patients as they and relevant parties weigh the risks of pursuing one treatment or another. Those are private choices, and women and their partners make private decisions applying their own calculus with respect to moving forward with plans to conceive.

3. We never switch antidepressants once a woman has become pregnant.

Although we continue to see patients switched to older SSRIs such as sertraline with documentation of pregnancy, a patient’s road to getting well is sometimes very lengthy. In the absence of indicting reproductive safety data for any particular antidepressant, for patients who have gotten well on an antidepressant, even one for which we have less information, we stay the course and do not switch arbitrarily to an older SSRI for which we may have more reproductive safety data.

If we have the luxury prior to pregnancy to switch a patient to an untried and better studied antidepressant with more data supporting safety, we do so. But this is rarely the case. More often, we see women presenting with a newly documented pregnancy (frequently unplanned, with half of pregnancies across the country still being unplanned across sociodemographic lines) on an antidepressant with varying amounts of reproductive safety information available for the medicine being taken, and frequently after failed previous trials of other antidepressants. In this scenario, we rarely see the time of a newly documented pregnancy as an opportunity to pursue a new trial of an antidepressant without known efficacy for that patient; we stay the course and hope for sustained euthymia on the drug which has afforded euthymia to date.
 

Final thoughts

Dos and don’ts are relative in reproductive psychiatry. We tend to apply available data and clinical experience as we guide patients on a case-by-case basis, considering the most currently available rigorous reproductive safety data, as well as the individual patient’s clinical status and her personal wishes.

Dr. Cohen is the director of the Ammon-Pinizzotto Center for Women’s Mental Health at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) in Boston, which provides information resources and conducts clinical care and research in reproductive mental health. He has been a consultant to manufacturers of psychiatric medications. Email Dr. Cohen at [email protected].