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Medical student well-being during the COVID-19 pandemic
During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.1 Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.
It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.2
One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.
Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.
The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.
For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.3 Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.4 These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.
While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.
Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.5
Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.6 What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.
Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.
References
1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.
2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.
3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.
4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.
5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.
6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.
During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.1 Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.
It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.2
One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.
Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.
The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.
For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.3 Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.4 These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.
While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.
Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.5
Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.6 What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.
Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.
References
1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.
2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.
3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.
4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.
5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.
6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.
During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.1 Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.
It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.2
One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.
Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.
The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.
For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.3 Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.4 These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.
While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.
Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.5
Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.6 What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.
Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.
References
1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.
2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.
3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.
4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.
5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.
6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.
Why is a healthy diet so hard to maintain?
Does this surprise anyone?
Although first publicized in 1975, the diet really didn’t gain attention until the 1990s. But, since then, the evidence in its favor has steadily grown.
Granted, while it was codified into a diet then, the benefits of fruits and vegetables weren’t exactly a secret beforehand. I’m pretty sure all of us remember being told to eat our vegetables (often repeatedly) while growing up.
So it’s not like we, both medical and nonmedical people, should be surprised at the results.
Is it really going to change anyone’s dietary habits?
Of course it will! It’s the beginning of the new year, and this time people are actually going to stick with their resolutions! For the first time they understand that ... who am I kidding?
For some people (hopefully myself included) there will be success at eating better and taking care of themselves. For most it will be Groundhog Day, both literally and figuratively, when February comes around.
It makes me wonder why this is. We all know what’s good for us. The evidence to support the Mediterranean diet is solid. The foods on it are widely available, often at lower cost than the usual American protein-heavy and processed foods habits. They’re flexible, and, generally taste good.
Yet, for all the evidence behind it, most won’t stick with it. Too many years of habits. Too many stressful days at work that lower our willpower to stick with it. Too many convenient reasons to count.
The question really isn’t “what’s the best diet?” That’s been answered. Realistically I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
The real question is “how do I stick with it?”
And another 5, 10, or 20 years of annually trying to figure out what the best diet is won’t change that.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
Does this surprise anyone?
Although first publicized in 1975, the diet really didn’t gain attention until the 1990s. But, since then, the evidence in its favor has steadily grown.
Granted, while it was codified into a diet then, the benefits of fruits and vegetables weren’t exactly a secret beforehand. I’m pretty sure all of us remember being told to eat our vegetables (often repeatedly) while growing up.
So it’s not like we, both medical and nonmedical people, should be surprised at the results.
Is it really going to change anyone’s dietary habits?
Of course it will! It’s the beginning of the new year, and this time people are actually going to stick with their resolutions! For the first time they understand that ... who am I kidding?
For some people (hopefully myself included) there will be success at eating better and taking care of themselves. For most it will be Groundhog Day, both literally and figuratively, when February comes around.
It makes me wonder why this is. We all know what’s good for us. The evidence to support the Mediterranean diet is solid. The foods on it are widely available, often at lower cost than the usual American protein-heavy and processed foods habits. They’re flexible, and, generally taste good.
Yet, for all the evidence behind it, most won’t stick with it. Too many years of habits. Too many stressful days at work that lower our willpower to stick with it. Too many convenient reasons to count.
The question really isn’t “what’s the best diet?” That’s been answered. Realistically I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
The real question is “how do I stick with it?”
And another 5, 10, or 20 years of annually trying to figure out what the best diet is won’t change that.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
Does this surprise anyone?
Although first publicized in 1975, the diet really didn’t gain attention until the 1990s. But, since then, the evidence in its favor has steadily grown.
Granted, while it was codified into a diet then, the benefits of fruits and vegetables weren’t exactly a secret beforehand. I’m pretty sure all of us remember being told to eat our vegetables (often repeatedly) while growing up.
So it’s not like we, both medical and nonmedical people, should be surprised at the results.
Is it really going to change anyone’s dietary habits?
Of course it will! It’s the beginning of the new year, and this time people are actually going to stick with their resolutions! For the first time they understand that ... who am I kidding?
For some people (hopefully myself included) there will be success at eating better and taking care of themselves. For most it will be Groundhog Day, both literally and figuratively, when February comes around.
It makes me wonder why this is. We all know what’s good for us. The evidence to support the Mediterranean diet is solid. The foods on it are widely available, often at lower cost than the usual American protein-heavy and processed foods habits. They’re flexible, and, generally taste good.
Yet, for all the evidence behind it, most won’t stick with it. Too many years of habits. Too many stressful days at work that lower our willpower to stick with it. Too many convenient reasons to count.
The question really isn’t “what’s the best diet?” That’s been answered. Realistically I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
The real question is “how do I stick with it?”
And another 5, 10, or 20 years of annually trying to figure out what the best diet is won’t change that.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
Pediatric vaccination rates have failed to recover
I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.
Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.
In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.
While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.
The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.
You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.
Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.
Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.
We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.
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].
I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.
Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.
In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.
While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.
The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.
You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.
Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.
Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.
We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.
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].
I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.
Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.
In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.
While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.
The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.
You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.
Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.
Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.
We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.
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].
Why I decided to get an MBA after becoming a private practice gastroenterologist
It was my dream from an early age to become a physician. Even as a child I was fascinated by medical procedures and interventions. As I pursued my medical degree, I became increasingly interested in a career where I could integrate patient care and the latest innovations in technology.
Training in gastroenterology has provided me an exciting mix of patient care and procedures, with medical devices and technologies that are constantly evolving. As I began my career, I joined Dayton Gastroenterology, a private practice affiliated with GI fellowship at Wright State University, Fairborn, Ohio, because the practice provided an opportunity to care for patients, train GI fellows, and provide employment opportunities to the community I serve.
After spending so many years to become an expert in medicine and then training in gastroenterology, it might have seemed daunting to go back to school to get an education in another field. But we all know the medical environment is constantly changing – in the last decade dramatically so, in technology as well as in how groups are organizing themselves in response to health care consolidation and other external forces.
The importance of understanding the business of health care
Consolidation in health care has increasingly impacted private practices, with more primary care and specialty physicians being employed by hospitals. In some areas of the country, this has affected the flow of patient referrals to independent GI practices, and these practices must now adapt to continue serving their communities. This is being amplified by the increasing demands for patient services coupled with staffing issues and reimbursement cuts.
These challenges have resulted in some smaller practices joining local hospitals systems. Others have come together to form larger groups or managed services organizations (MSO), and some have partnered with private equity firms to compete in response to these market forces.
During our training and education in medical school, we aren’t taught how to run a successful practice. We aren’t taught how to bring together different industry partners, collaborators, and payers or how to build patient-centric practice models. But sometimes the best method of learning is by doing, and my experiences during the merger of Dayton Gastroenterology with One GI, a physician-focused MSO with practices in six states, was invaluable.
That merger process taught me a lot about how companies are valued, the nuances in determining deal flow, networking, human capital, and everything else involved in how a transaction takes place. I developed a greater understanding about how to develop and build successful large practices, with improved employee satisfaction, company culture, and great patient experience.
Developing a positive practice culture
It was during the process of partnering with One GI and during the pandemic that I decided to pursue my desire to get a formal business education, and I’m glad I did. The executive MBA program at the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University allowed me to gain an in-depth understanding of various aspects of business, finance, accounting, marketing, leadership, governance, organizational transformation, negotiations, and so much more, all while continuing to work full time as a gastroenterologist in private practice.
We met for classes in-person each month over the course of four days. There were also live and recorded virtual sessions in between each monthly class. The program was rigorous, but worth it. Connecting with leaders from different industries and learning from exceptional professors alongside these professionals was an invaluable experience.
Two of the most vital things I learned were the importance of team building and development of a company culture that will sustain an organization over the long term. I learned management strategies to empower employees, governance best practices, and how to align the interests of internal and external stakeholders.
Anyone can buy a practice, and anyone can merge their practice into a larger entity, but it is critical to understand the components of a successful integration. Culture eats strategy for breakfast. You can have the best minds, develop the best processes, but if there is not a strong culture with the alignment of physicians, staff, and practice management, even the best strategies can easily fail.
What to look for in joining a practice
As physicians, we all want to be the best at what we do. It’s important to be intentional about what you value and how you would like to shape your career. When considering which practice you might join, there are several things to consider, such as the location, medical needs of the community, and services offered by the practice. Equally important is understanding how the practice is managed.
Does the practice promote growth opportunities for its physicians and staff? Are there governance structures and processes in place to empower and retain talented staff? What values does the practice portray? Is there a buy-in or buy-out when becoming a partner in the practice, and are there equity opportunities? These are just some of many questions early-career physicians should ask.
My MBA helped me become a better leader
A physician understands the needs of delivering exceptional medical care, the challenges involved, and the resources required. Increasing the depth and breadth of our knowledge is power. Good people make good organizations, but great people make great organizations. Those of us who are on the front lines are the best advocates for our patients and other frontline workers. We can become powerful advocates and leaders when we better understand how business trends and other external forces affect our ability to care for the patients in the future.
Pursuing a business education provides a strong foundation for physician leaders who have strong analytical intuition and focus on patient-centric practice models. If you are considering a career in private practice and are interested in practice management or growing a practice, an MBA or similar educational programs will provide an understanding of finance, accounting, and other business-related fields that can enable physicians to become agile and empathic leaders.
Dr. Appalaneni is a practicing gastroenterologist at Dayton Gastroenterology in Ohio. She is Executive Vice President of Clinical Innovation at One GI, a physician-led managed services organization. Dr. Appalaneni has no conflicts to declare.
It was my dream from an early age to become a physician. Even as a child I was fascinated by medical procedures and interventions. As I pursued my medical degree, I became increasingly interested in a career where I could integrate patient care and the latest innovations in technology.
Training in gastroenterology has provided me an exciting mix of patient care and procedures, with medical devices and technologies that are constantly evolving. As I began my career, I joined Dayton Gastroenterology, a private practice affiliated with GI fellowship at Wright State University, Fairborn, Ohio, because the practice provided an opportunity to care for patients, train GI fellows, and provide employment opportunities to the community I serve.
After spending so many years to become an expert in medicine and then training in gastroenterology, it might have seemed daunting to go back to school to get an education in another field. But we all know the medical environment is constantly changing – in the last decade dramatically so, in technology as well as in how groups are organizing themselves in response to health care consolidation and other external forces.
The importance of understanding the business of health care
Consolidation in health care has increasingly impacted private practices, with more primary care and specialty physicians being employed by hospitals. In some areas of the country, this has affected the flow of patient referrals to independent GI practices, and these practices must now adapt to continue serving their communities. This is being amplified by the increasing demands for patient services coupled with staffing issues and reimbursement cuts.
These challenges have resulted in some smaller practices joining local hospitals systems. Others have come together to form larger groups or managed services organizations (MSO), and some have partnered with private equity firms to compete in response to these market forces.
During our training and education in medical school, we aren’t taught how to run a successful practice. We aren’t taught how to bring together different industry partners, collaborators, and payers or how to build patient-centric practice models. But sometimes the best method of learning is by doing, and my experiences during the merger of Dayton Gastroenterology with One GI, a physician-focused MSO with practices in six states, was invaluable.
That merger process taught me a lot about how companies are valued, the nuances in determining deal flow, networking, human capital, and everything else involved in how a transaction takes place. I developed a greater understanding about how to develop and build successful large practices, with improved employee satisfaction, company culture, and great patient experience.
Developing a positive practice culture
It was during the process of partnering with One GI and during the pandemic that I decided to pursue my desire to get a formal business education, and I’m glad I did. The executive MBA program at the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University allowed me to gain an in-depth understanding of various aspects of business, finance, accounting, marketing, leadership, governance, organizational transformation, negotiations, and so much more, all while continuing to work full time as a gastroenterologist in private practice.
We met for classes in-person each month over the course of four days. There were also live and recorded virtual sessions in between each monthly class. The program was rigorous, but worth it. Connecting with leaders from different industries and learning from exceptional professors alongside these professionals was an invaluable experience.
Two of the most vital things I learned were the importance of team building and development of a company culture that will sustain an organization over the long term. I learned management strategies to empower employees, governance best practices, and how to align the interests of internal and external stakeholders.
Anyone can buy a practice, and anyone can merge their practice into a larger entity, but it is critical to understand the components of a successful integration. Culture eats strategy for breakfast. You can have the best minds, develop the best processes, but if there is not a strong culture with the alignment of physicians, staff, and practice management, even the best strategies can easily fail.
What to look for in joining a practice
As physicians, we all want to be the best at what we do. It’s important to be intentional about what you value and how you would like to shape your career. When considering which practice you might join, there are several things to consider, such as the location, medical needs of the community, and services offered by the practice. Equally important is understanding how the practice is managed.
Does the practice promote growth opportunities for its physicians and staff? Are there governance structures and processes in place to empower and retain talented staff? What values does the practice portray? Is there a buy-in or buy-out when becoming a partner in the practice, and are there equity opportunities? These are just some of many questions early-career physicians should ask.
My MBA helped me become a better leader
A physician understands the needs of delivering exceptional medical care, the challenges involved, and the resources required. Increasing the depth and breadth of our knowledge is power. Good people make good organizations, but great people make great organizations. Those of us who are on the front lines are the best advocates for our patients and other frontline workers. We can become powerful advocates and leaders when we better understand how business trends and other external forces affect our ability to care for the patients in the future.
Pursuing a business education provides a strong foundation for physician leaders who have strong analytical intuition and focus on patient-centric practice models. If you are considering a career in private practice and are interested in practice management or growing a practice, an MBA or similar educational programs will provide an understanding of finance, accounting, and other business-related fields that can enable physicians to become agile and empathic leaders.
Dr. Appalaneni is a practicing gastroenterologist at Dayton Gastroenterology in Ohio. She is Executive Vice President of Clinical Innovation at One GI, a physician-led managed services organization. Dr. Appalaneni has no conflicts to declare.
It was my dream from an early age to become a physician. Even as a child I was fascinated by medical procedures and interventions. As I pursued my medical degree, I became increasingly interested in a career where I could integrate patient care and the latest innovations in technology.
Training in gastroenterology has provided me an exciting mix of patient care and procedures, with medical devices and technologies that are constantly evolving. As I began my career, I joined Dayton Gastroenterology, a private practice affiliated with GI fellowship at Wright State University, Fairborn, Ohio, because the practice provided an opportunity to care for patients, train GI fellows, and provide employment opportunities to the community I serve.
After spending so many years to become an expert in medicine and then training in gastroenterology, it might have seemed daunting to go back to school to get an education in another field. But we all know the medical environment is constantly changing – in the last decade dramatically so, in technology as well as in how groups are organizing themselves in response to health care consolidation and other external forces.
The importance of understanding the business of health care
Consolidation in health care has increasingly impacted private practices, with more primary care and specialty physicians being employed by hospitals. In some areas of the country, this has affected the flow of patient referrals to independent GI practices, and these practices must now adapt to continue serving their communities. This is being amplified by the increasing demands for patient services coupled with staffing issues and reimbursement cuts.
These challenges have resulted in some smaller practices joining local hospitals systems. Others have come together to form larger groups or managed services organizations (MSO), and some have partnered with private equity firms to compete in response to these market forces.
During our training and education in medical school, we aren’t taught how to run a successful practice. We aren’t taught how to bring together different industry partners, collaborators, and payers or how to build patient-centric practice models. But sometimes the best method of learning is by doing, and my experiences during the merger of Dayton Gastroenterology with One GI, a physician-focused MSO with practices in six states, was invaluable.
That merger process taught me a lot about how companies are valued, the nuances in determining deal flow, networking, human capital, and everything else involved in how a transaction takes place. I developed a greater understanding about how to develop and build successful large practices, with improved employee satisfaction, company culture, and great patient experience.
Developing a positive practice culture
It was during the process of partnering with One GI and during the pandemic that I decided to pursue my desire to get a formal business education, and I’m glad I did. The executive MBA program at the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University allowed me to gain an in-depth understanding of various aspects of business, finance, accounting, marketing, leadership, governance, organizational transformation, negotiations, and so much more, all while continuing to work full time as a gastroenterologist in private practice.
We met for classes in-person each month over the course of four days. There were also live and recorded virtual sessions in between each monthly class. The program was rigorous, but worth it. Connecting with leaders from different industries and learning from exceptional professors alongside these professionals was an invaluable experience.
Two of the most vital things I learned were the importance of team building and development of a company culture that will sustain an organization over the long term. I learned management strategies to empower employees, governance best practices, and how to align the interests of internal and external stakeholders.
Anyone can buy a practice, and anyone can merge their practice into a larger entity, but it is critical to understand the components of a successful integration. Culture eats strategy for breakfast. You can have the best minds, develop the best processes, but if there is not a strong culture with the alignment of physicians, staff, and practice management, even the best strategies can easily fail.
What to look for in joining a practice
As physicians, we all want to be the best at what we do. It’s important to be intentional about what you value and how you would like to shape your career. When considering which practice you might join, there are several things to consider, such as the location, medical needs of the community, and services offered by the practice. Equally important is understanding how the practice is managed.
Does the practice promote growth opportunities for its physicians and staff? Are there governance structures and processes in place to empower and retain talented staff? What values does the practice portray? Is there a buy-in or buy-out when becoming a partner in the practice, and are there equity opportunities? These are just some of many questions early-career physicians should ask.
My MBA helped me become a better leader
A physician understands the needs of delivering exceptional medical care, the challenges involved, and the resources required. Increasing the depth and breadth of our knowledge is power. Good people make good organizations, but great people make great organizations. Those of us who are on the front lines are the best advocates for our patients and other frontline workers. We can become powerful advocates and leaders when we better understand how business trends and other external forces affect our ability to care for the patients in the future.
Pursuing a business education provides a strong foundation for physician leaders who have strong analytical intuition and focus on patient-centric practice models. If you are considering a career in private practice and are interested in practice management or growing a practice, an MBA or similar educational programs will provide an understanding of finance, accounting, and other business-related fields that can enable physicians to become agile and empathic leaders.
Dr. Appalaneni is a practicing gastroenterologist at Dayton Gastroenterology in Ohio. She is Executive Vice President of Clinical Innovation at One GI, a physician-led managed services organization. Dr. Appalaneni has no conflicts to declare.
The anecdote as antidote: Psychiatric paradigms in Disney films
A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.
Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.
Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.
The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.
Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.
Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”1 or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
‘Ratatouille’ (2007)
One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.
The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.
Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.
The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.
Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.
While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
‘Inside Out’ (2015)
Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.
In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.
During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.
The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.
Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.
It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.
Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).
A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.
Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.
Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.
The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.
Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.
Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”1 or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
‘Ratatouille’ (2007)
One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.
The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.
Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.
The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.
Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.
While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
‘Inside Out’ (2015)
Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.
In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.
During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.
The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.
Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.
It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.
Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).
A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.
Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.
Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.
The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.
Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.
Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”1 or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
‘Ratatouille’ (2007)
One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.
The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.
Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.
The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.
Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.
While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
‘Inside Out’ (2015)
Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.
In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.
During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.
The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.
Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.
It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.
Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).
The latest on ERS/ATS lung function interpretation guidelines and bronchodilator testing
The European Respiratory Society (ERS) and the American Thoracic Society (ATS) just published an updated technical standard on lung function interpretation. It’s impossible to review in its entirety without more space, so I’ll settle for covering what the authors say about bronchodilator testing. But before I do that, it’s worth reviewing what we think we know about having a patient perform spirometry, inhale a bronchodilator, and then repeat it. This is colloquially referred to as pre- and postbronchodilator testing.
Administering a bronchodilator and measuring changes in lung function seems simple and intuitive. It is biologically plausible that improvement would predict treatment response. It should allow for phenotyping airway diseases and quantifying exacerbation risk. It is easy to perform and can be done in the clinic. But in practice it falls short of its purpose, in part because of technical factors but also because it doesn’t really have a purpose.
The last interpretative strategies document from the ERS/ATS was published in 2005. Reading it many years ago, I was struck by the contrast between our reliance on bronchodilator response and its lack of standardization. It seemed that there was none. After making statements like, “There is no consensus on what constitutes reversibility in subjects with airflow obstruction” and “There is no consensus on how a bronchodilator response should be expressed, the variables to be used, and finally, the kind, dose, and inhalation mode of bronchodilator agent,” the 2005 ERS/ATS authors suggest using the criteria most clinicians are familiar with: A change of 12% and 200 cc in FEV1 or FVC marks a “significant” bronchodilator response. Four puffs of albuterol (100 mcg each for a total of 400 mcg) with a 15- to 20-minute wait before repeat spirometry is also suggested.
The 2005 iteration acknowledges that a significant bronchodilator response isn’t a very accurate predictor of, well, anything. It doesn’t reliably differentiate COPD from asthma and it’s never been as sensitive as bronchoprovocation testing for diagnosing airway reactivity. The absence of a significant bronchodilator response does not preclude a 2-month trial of the same medicine used to test for response. Given these problems with standardization and accuracy, I was left wondering why anyone bothers ordering the test at all.
In my own practice, I continued to order, conduct, and interpret bronchodilator response according to the suggestions made by the ERS/ATS in 2005 when trying to diagnose asthma. I recognized that a nonsignificant response meant nothing, but bronchodilator response testing was easier to obtain than bronchoprovocation at my hospital. It was a matter of convenience for me and the patient. According to the Global Initiative for Asthma (GINA) Guidelines, a significant bronchodilator response conducted and interpreted as recommended by the ERS/ATS 2005 standard provides objective confirmation of asthma in the presence of characteristic clinical symptoms.
The headline from the ERS/ATS 2022 Technical Standard is that the 12% and 200-cc criteria suggested in 2005 are being retired. Why? Well, much of the variability in the 2005 criteria is explained by height, age, sex, and baseline lung function. These factors obscure change related to intrinsic airway abnormalities. Instead, the authors suggest using a threshold change in the predicted values of FEV1 and FVC to determine a significant response. Because predicted values incorporate age, height, and sex, the impact from these variables is minimized. Using a percent predicted (PPD) threshold will also minimize the effect from the inverse relationship between measured values and bronchodilator response.
A 10% change in the PPD value for either FEV1 or FVC constitutes a significant bronchodilator response. Ten percent was chosen because it represents the statistically defined upper limit of normal response; and a greater than 8% change in bronchodilator response is associated with mortality, implying that values above this threshold connote disease. The technical standard seems to be on solid ground here; the rationale is mathematically appropriate and evidence based. The new definition will certainly improve precision.
There’s really no progress on accuracy, though. There are no comments on the protocol to be followed or clinical indications. The reader is referred to the ERS/ATS 2019 technical statement on standardization of spirometry. The statement on standardization is short on details, too, and refers the reader to an online supplement for a suggested protocol. The suggested protocol is identical to that suggested in 2005.
In summary, not a lot is different in the world of bronchodilator response testing. The definition is different now, and though it’s likely to be more precise, we still don’t know enough about accuracy. It’s nice to know that the new criteria will predict mortality, but in clinical practice we don’t use the test for that purpose. The 2022 technical standard acknowledges this and other limitations in a “future directions” paragraph. Perhaps we’ll know more when the next iteration is published.
Dr. Holley is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences. Bethesda, Md., and a pulmonary medicine/critical care physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He reported conflicts of interest with Metapharm and the American College of Chest Physicians. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
The European Respiratory Society (ERS) and the American Thoracic Society (ATS) just published an updated technical standard on lung function interpretation. It’s impossible to review in its entirety without more space, so I’ll settle for covering what the authors say about bronchodilator testing. But before I do that, it’s worth reviewing what we think we know about having a patient perform spirometry, inhale a bronchodilator, and then repeat it. This is colloquially referred to as pre- and postbronchodilator testing.
Administering a bronchodilator and measuring changes in lung function seems simple and intuitive. It is biologically plausible that improvement would predict treatment response. It should allow for phenotyping airway diseases and quantifying exacerbation risk. It is easy to perform and can be done in the clinic. But in practice it falls short of its purpose, in part because of technical factors but also because it doesn’t really have a purpose.
The last interpretative strategies document from the ERS/ATS was published in 2005. Reading it many years ago, I was struck by the contrast between our reliance on bronchodilator response and its lack of standardization. It seemed that there was none. After making statements like, “There is no consensus on what constitutes reversibility in subjects with airflow obstruction” and “There is no consensus on how a bronchodilator response should be expressed, the variables to be used, and finally, the kind, dose, and inhalation mode of bronchodilator agent,” the 2005 ERS/ATS authors suggest using the criteria most clinicians are familiar with: A change of 12% and 200 cc in FEV1 or FVC marks a “significant” bronchodilator response. Four puffs of albuterol (100 mcg each for a total of 400 mcg) with a 15- to 20-minute wait before repeat spirometry is also suggested.
The 2005 iteration acknowledges that a significant bronchodilator response isn’t a very accurate predictor of, well, anything. It doesn’t reliably differentiate COPD from asthma and it’s never been as sensitive as bronchoprovocation testing for diagnosing airway reactivity. The absence of a significant bronchodilator response does not preclude a 2-month trial of the same medicine used to test for response. Given these problems with standardization and accuracy, I was left wondering why anyone bothers ordering the test at all.
In my own practice, I continued to order, conduct, and interpret bronchodilator response according to the suggestions made by the ERS/ATS in 2005 when trying to diagnose asthma. I recognized that a nonsignificant response meant nothing, but bronchodilator response testing was easier to obtain than bronchoprovocation at my hospital. It was a matter of convenience for me and the patient. According to the Global Initiative for Asthma (GINA) Guidelines, a significant bronchodilator response conducted and interpreted as recommended by the ERS/ATS 2005 standard provides objective confirmation of asthma in the presence of characteristic clinical symptoms.
The headline from the ERS/ATS 2022 Technical Standard is that the 12% and 200-cc criteria suggested in 2005 are being retired. Why? Well, much of the variability in the 2005 criteria is explained by height, age, sex, and baseline lung function. These factors obscure change related to intrinsic airway abnormalities. Instead, the authors suggest using a threshold change in the predicted values of FEV1 and FVC to determine a significant response. Because predicted values incorporate age, height, and sex, the impact from these variables is minimized. Using a percent predicted (PPD) threshold will also minimize the effect from the inverse relationship between measured values and bronchodilator response.
A 10% change in the PPD value for either FEV1 or FVC constitutes a significant bronchodilator response. Ten percent was chosen because it represents the statistically defined upper limit of normal response; and a greater than 8% change in bronchodilator response is associated with mortality, implying that values above this threshold connote disease. The technical standard seems to be on solid ground here; the rationale is mathematically appropriate and evidence based. The new definition will certainly improve precision.
There’s really no progress on accuracy, though. There are no comments on the protocol to be followed or clinical indications. The reader is referred to the ERS/ATS 2019 technical statement on standardization of spirometry. The statement on standardization is short on details, too, and refers the reader to an online supplement for a suggested protocol. The suggested protocol is identical to that suggested in 2005.
In summary, not a lot is different in the world of bronchodilator response testing. The definition is different now, and though it’s likely to be more precise, we still don’t know enough about accuracy. It’s nice to know that the new criteria will predict mortality, but in clinical practice we don’t use the test for that purpose. The 2022 technical standard acknowledges this and other limitations in a “future directions” paragraph. Perhaps we’ll know more when the next iteration is published.
Dr. Holley is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences. Bethesda, Md., and a pulmonary medicine/critical care physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He reported conflicts of interest with Metapharm and the American College of Chest Physicians. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
The European Respiratory Society (ERS) and the American Thoracic Society (ATS) just published an updated technical standard on lung function interpretation. It’s impossible to review in its entirety without more space, so I’ll settle for covering what the authors say about bronchodilator testing. But before I do that, it’s worth reviewing what we think we know about having a patient perform spirometry, inhale a bronchodilator, and then repeat it. This is colloquially referred to as pre- and postbronchodilator testing.
Administering a bronchodilator and measuring changes in lung function seems simple and intuitive. It is biologically plausible that improvement would predict treatment response. It should allow for phenotyping airway diseases and quantifying exacerbation risk. It is easy to perform and can be done in the clinic. But in practice it falls short of its purpose, in part because of technical factors but also because it doesn’t really have a purpose.
The last interpretative strategies document from the ERS/ATS was published in 2005. Reading it many years ago, I was struck by the contrast between our reliance on bronchodilator response and its lack of standardization. It seemed that there was none. After making statements like, “There is no consensus on what constitutes reversibility in subjects with airflow obstruction” and “There is no consensus on how a bronchodilator response should be expressed, the variables to be used, and finally, the kind, dose, and inhalation mode of bronchodilator agent,” the 2005 ERS/ATS authors suggest using the criteria most clinicians are familiar with: A change of 12% and 200 cc in FEV1 or FVC marks a “significant” bronchodilator response. Four puffs of albuterol (100 mcg each for a total of 400 mcg) with a 15- to 20-minute wait before repeat spirometry is also suggested.
The 2005 iteration acknowledges that a significant bronchodilator response isn’t a very accurate predictor of, well, anything. It doesn’t reliably differentiate COPD from asthma and it’s never been as sensitive as bronchoprovocation testing for diagnosing airway reactivity. The absence of a significant bronchodilator response does not preclude a 2-month trial of the same medicine used to test for response. Given these problems with standardization and accuracy, I was left wondering why anyone bothers ordering the test at all.
In my own practice, I continued to order, conduct, and interpret bronchodilator response according to the suggestions made by the ERS/ATS in 2005 when trying to diagnose asthma. I recognized that a nonsignificant response meant nothing, but bronchodilator response testing was easier to obtain than bronchoprovocation at my hospital. It was a matter of convenience for me and the patient. According to the Global Initiative for Asthma (GINA) Guidelines, a significant bronchodilator response conducted and interpreted as recommended by the ERS/ATS 2005 standard provides objective confirmation of asthma in the presence of characteristic clinical symptoms.
The headline from the ERS/ATS 2022 Technical Standard is that the 12% and 200-cc criteria suggested in 2005 are being retired. Why? Well, much of the variability in the 2005 criteria is explained by height, age, sex, and baseline lung function. These factors obscure change related to intrinsic airway abnormalities. Instead, the authors suggest using a threshold change in the predicted values of FEV1 and FVC to determine a significant response. Because predicted values incorporate age, height, and sex, the impact from these variables is minimized. Using a percent predicted (PPD) threshold will also minimize the effect from the inverse relationship between measured values and bronchodilator response.
A 10% change in the PPD value for either FEV1 or FVC constitutes a significant bronchodilator response. Ten percent was chosen because it represents the statistically defined upper limit of normal response; and a greater than 8% change in bronchodilator response is associated with mortality, implying that values above this threshold connote disease. The technical standard seems to be on solid ground here; the rationale is mathematically appropriate and evidence based. The new definition will certainly improve precision.
There’s really no progress on accuracy, though. There are no comments on the protocol to be followed or clinical indications. The reader is referred to the ERS/ATS 2019 technical statement on standardization of spirometry. The statement on standardization is short on details, too, and refers the reader to an online supplement for a suggested protocol. The suggested protocol is identical to that suggested in 2005.
In summary, not a lot is different in the world of bronchodilator response testing. The definition is different now, and though it’s likely to be more precise, we still don’t know enough about accuracy. It’s nice to know that the new criteria will predict mortality, but in clinical practice we don’t use the test for that purpose. The 2022 technical standard acknowledges this and other limitations in a “future directions” paragraph. Perhaps we’ll know more when the next iteration is published.
Dr. Holley is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences. Bethesda, Md., and a pulmonary medicine/critical care physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He reported conflicts of interest with Metapharm and the American College of Chest Physicians. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Time for a rest
“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am
You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.
So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.
I asked some docs when they thought this feeling of exhaustion first began. We agreed that the pandemic, doubledemic, tripledemic, backlog have taken a toll. But The consumerization of medicine? All factors, but not the beginning. No, the beginning was before paper charts. Well, actually it was before paper. We have to go back to the 5th or 6th century BCE. That is when scholars believe the book of Genesis originated from the Yahwist source. In it, it is written that the 7th day be set aside as a day of rest from labor. It is not written that burnout would ensue if sabbath wasn’t observed; however, if you failed to keep it, then you might have been killed. They took rest seriously back then.
This innovation of setting aside a day each week to rest, reflect, and worship was such a good idea that it was codified as one of the 10 commandments. It spread widely. Early Christians kept the Jewish tradition of observing Shabbat from Friday sundown to Saturday until the ever practical Romans decided that Sunday would be a better day. Sunday was already the day to worship the sun god. The newly-converted Christian Emperor Constantine issued an edict on March 7th, 321 CE that all “city people and craftsmen shall rest from labor upon the venerable day of the sun.” And so Sunday it was.
Protestant Seventh-day denomination churches later shifted sabbath back to Saturday believing that Sunday must have been the Pope’s idea. The best deal seems to have been around 1273 when the Ethiopian Orthodox leader Ewostatewos decreed that both Saturday AND Sunday would be days of rest. (But when would one go to Costco?!) In Islam, there is Jumu’ah on Friday. Buddhists have Uposatha, a day of rest and observance every 7 or 8 days. Bah’ai keep Friday as a day of rest and worship. So vital are days of respite to the health of our communities that the state has made working on certain days a violation of the law, “blue laws” they are called. We’ve had blue laws on the books since the time of the Jamestown Colony in 1619 where the first Virginia Assembly required taking Sunday off for worship. Most of these laws have been repealed, although a few states, such as Rhode Island, still have blue laws prohibiting retail and grocery stores from opening on Thanksgiving or Christmas. So there – enjoy your two days off this year!
Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.
Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.
I wonder if I can choose Mondays.
Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].
“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am
You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.
So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.
I asked some docs when they thought this feeling of exhaustion first began. We agreed that the pandemic, doubledemic, tripledemic, backlog have taken a toll. But The consumerization of medicine? All factors, but not the beginning. No, the beginning was before paper charts. Well, actually it was before paper. We have to go back to the 5th or 6th century BCE. That is when scholars believe the book of Genesis originated from the Yahwist source. In it, it is written that the 7th day be set aside as a day of rest from labor. It is not written that burnout would ensue if sabbath wasn’t observed; however, if you failed to keep it, then you might have been killed. They took rest seriously back then.
This innovation of setting aside a day each week to rest, reflect, and worship was such a good idea that it was codified as one of the 10 commandments. It spread widely. Early Christians kept the Jewish tradition of observing Shabbat from Friday sundown to Saturday until the ever practical Romans decided that Sunday would be a better day. Sunday was already the day to worship the sun god. The newly-converted Christian Emperor Constantine issued an edict on March 7th, 321 CE that all “city people and craftsmen shall rest from labor upon the venerable day of the sun.” And so Sunday it was.
Protestant Seventh-day denomination churches later shifted sabbath back to Saturday believing that Sunday must have been the Pope’s idea. The best deal seems to have been around 1273 when the Ethiopian Orthodox leader Ewostatewos decreed that both Saturday AND Sunday would be days of rest. (But when would one go to Costco?!) In Islam, there is Jumu’ah on Friday. Buddhists have Uposatha, a day of rest and observance every 7 or 8 days. Bah’ai keep Friday as a day of rest and worship. So vital are days of respite to the health of our communities that the state has made working on certain days a violation of the law, “blue laws” they are called. We’ve had blue laws on the books since the time of the Jamestown Colony in 1619 where the first Virginia Assembly required taking Sunday off for worship. Most of these laws have been repealed, although a few states, such as Rhode Island, still have blue laws prohibiting retail and grocery stores from opening on Thanksgiving or Christmas. So there – enjoy your two days off this year!
Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.
Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.
I wonder if I can choose Mondays.
Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].
“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am
You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.
So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.
I asked some docs when they thought this feeling of exhaustion first began. We agreed that the pandemic, doubledemic, tripledemic, backlog have taken a toll. But The consumerization of medicine? All factors, but not the beginning. No, the beginning was before paper charts. Well, actually it was before paper. We have to go back to the 5th or 6th century BCE. That is when scholars believe the book of Genesis originated from the Yahwist source. In it, it is written that the 7th day be set aside as a day of rest from labor. It is not written that burnout would ensue if sabbath wasn’t observed; however, if you failed to keep it, then you might have been killed. They took rest seriously back then.
This innovation of setting aside a day each week to rest, reflect, and worship was such a good idea that it was codified as one of the 10 commandments. It spread widely. Early Christians kept the Jewish tradition of observing Shabbat from Friday sundown to Saturday until the ever practical Romans decided that Sunday would be a better day. Sunday was already the day to worship the sun god. The newly-converted Christian Emperor Constantine issued an edict on March 7th, 321 CE that all “city people and craftsmen shall rest from labor upon the venerable day of the sun.” And so Sunday it was.
Protestant Seventh-day denomination churches later shifted sabbath back to Saturday believing that Sunday must have been the Pope’s idea. The best deal seems to have been around 1273 when the Ethiopian Orthodox leader Ewostatewos decreed that both Saturday AND Sunday would be days of rest. (But when would one go to Costco?!) In Islam, there is Jumu’ah on Friday. Buddhists have Uposatha, a day of rest and observance every 7 or 8 days. Bah’ai keep Friday as a day of rest and worship. So vital are days of respite to the health of our communities that the state has made working on certain days a violation of the law, “blue laws” they are called. We’ve had blue laws on the books since the time of the Jamestown Colony in 1619 where the first Virginia Assembly required taking Sunday off for worship. Most of these laws have been repealed, although a few states, such as Rhode Island, still have blue laws prohibiting retail and grocery stores from opening on Thanksgiving or Christmas. So there – enjoy your two days off this year!
Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.
Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.
I wonder if I can choose Mondays.
Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].
Weight loss management ... a new frontier?
Dear colleagues,
Treating obesity easily falls under our purview as gastroenterologists. But like the mouse who would bell the cat, our direct involvement has been limited. However, over the past decade, advances in endobariatrics and medical management have given us many options. But how do we choose from this growing armamentarium of minimally invasive procedures and weight loss medicines? What combination is best? And what about the standard “diet and exercise”?
In this issue of perspectives, Carolyn Newberry, MD, director of GI nutrition at Innovation Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medicine, New York, will emphasize the benefits of medical and lifestyle management. Pichamol Jirapinyo, MD, MPH, ABOM, director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston, responds with robust data for endoscopic therapies. We hope that their expert perspectives will help guide you in your own approach to obesity management – certainly no one size fits all. I welcome your thoughts on this growing field in gastroenterology – share with us on Twitter @AGA_GIHN.
Gyanprakash A. Ketwaroo, MD, MSc, is associate professor of medicine, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and chief of endoscopy at West Haven (Conn.) VA Medical Center. He is an associate editor for GI & Hepatology News.
Exciting time for endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapies (EBMTs)
BY PICHAMOL JIRAPINYO, MD, MPH, ABOM
2022 was an exciting year for our field of endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapy (EBMT). Not only did it mark the 10th year anniversary since the very first-in-human endoscopic sleeve gastroplasty (ESG) performed by Christopher Thompson and Robert Hawes in India, but also the MERIT trial (a randomized-controlled trial on ESG) was published.1 This decade of work led to the OverStitch Endoscopic Suturing System (Apollo Endosurgery, Austin, Tex.) being granted de novo authorization from the Food and Drug Administration for the treatment of obesity and weight regain following bariatric surgery.
Currently, at our institution, we offer four primary EBMTs for patients who are seeking endoscopic weight loss therapy and have not yet undergone prior bariatric surgery. These include the Orbera intragastric balloon (IGB) (Apollo Endosurgery), ESG (Apollo Endosurgery), primary obesity surgery endoluminal (POSE: USGI Medical, San Clemente, Calif.), and a gastric plication procedure using Endomina (Endo Tools Therapeutics, Gosselies, Belgium). While the former two have FDA approval, the latter two devices have FDA clearance for tissue approximation. The indication for primary EBMTs includes having a body mass index of at least 30 kg/m2.
From our experience, patients who present to our bariatric endoscopy clinic consist of three groups. First are those who have tried several anti-obesity medications (AOMs), but are unable to tolerate the side effects or their BMI remains greater than 30 kg/m2. Second are those who have heard about EBMTs and are interested in the procedures. Usually, these patients are either too light to qualify for bariatric surgery (BMI 30-35 kg/m2 or 35-40 kg/m2 without an obesity-related comorbidity) or are not interested in bariatric surgery for a variety of reasons, including its perceived invasiveness. The last group are those whose BMI falls within the “super obese” category, defined as a BMI ≥ 50 kg/m2, who are deemed too high risk to undergo medically necessary procedures, such as an orthopedic, colorectal, or transplant surgery.
During the initial consultation, I always discuss pros and cons of all treatment modalities for obesity with the patients, ranging from lifestyle modification to AOMs, EBMTs, and bariatric surgeries. While the data on AOMs are promising, especially with the most recent FDA-approved semaglutide (Wegovy: Novo Nordisk, Bagsvaerd, Denmark) yielding 14.9% total weight loss (TWL) at 1 year, in reality, the starting doses of this medication have been out of stock for over a year.2 Other AOMs, on the other hand, are associated with 6%-8% TWL and are frequently associated with intolerance due to side effects. In comparison, meta-analyses demonstrate that an IGB is associated with 11.3% TWL and ESG with 16.5% TWL at 1 year. Our recent publication describing a new technique for POSE, also known as a distal POSE procedure with a double-helix technique, demonstrates a 20.3% TWL at 1 year.3 The rate of serious adverse events for EBMTs is low with 0.1% for IGB and 1%-2% for ESG/POSE.
The question regarding a comparison between AOMs and EBMTs comes up quite frequently in clinical practice. In reality, I often encourage my patients to consider combination therapy where I prescribe an AOM at 3-6 months following EBMTs to augment the amount of weight loss. However, since this is a debate, I will highlight a few advantages of EBMTs. First, the amount of weight loss following EBMTs, especially with ESG/POSE (which is currently the most commonly-requested procedure in our practice), tends to be higher than that of most AOMs. Second, while we are eagerly awaiting the long-term safety and efficacy data for semaglutide, ESG has been shown to be durable with the patients maintaining 15.9% TWL at 5 years.4 Third, an EBMT is a one-time procedure. In contrast, AOMs rely on patients’ compliance with taking the medication(s) reliably and indefinitely. A study based on HMO pharmacy data of over a million patients who were prescribed AOMs showed that fewer than 2% completed 12 months of weight loss medication therapy.5 The long-term use of AOMs also has cost implications. Specifically, a month supply of semaglutide costs about $1,400, which translates to $16,800 in 1 year and $84,000 in 5 years, which clearly outweighs the cost of ESG/POSE that has been demonstrated to be durable up to at least 5 years. IGBs have limitations similar to those of AOMs upon removal. Nevertheless, with the average cost of an IGB being $8,000, placing one every year would still be less costly, although this would likely be unnecessary considering the weight loss trend after IGB.
There are a few hurdles that need to be overcome before EBMTs are widely adopted. Reimbursement remains a major issue at most centers in the United States. Currently, most EBMTs are offered as a self-pay procedure, making the majority of patients who are otherwise eligible and interested not able to afford the procedure. With the recently published MERIT trial, long-term data on ESG as well as several upcoming society guidelines on EBMTs, we are hopeful that insurance coverage for EBMTs is nearing. Another important aspect is training. While IGB placement and removal are simple procedures, performing a high-quality ESG/POSE requires rigorous training to ensure safety and optimal outcomes. Several professional societies are working hard to develop curriculums on EBMTs with a focus on hands-on training to ensure endoscopists are properly trained prior to starting their bariatric endoscopy program. At our institution, we have a dedicated training program focusing on bariatric endoscopy (i.e. separate from the traditional advanced endoscopy fellowship), where fellows learn advanced bariatric suturing and plication as well as multidisciplinary care for this patient population. I am hopeful that this kind of training will become more prevalent in the near future.
With mounting evidence supporting the benefits of EBMTs, bariatric endoscopy has revolutionized the care of patients suffering from obesity and its related comorbidities. Moving forward, the field will continue to evolve, and EBMT procedures will only become simpler, safer, and more effective. It is an exciting time for gastroenterologists to get involved.
Dr. Jirapinyo is the director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston. She is board certified in internal medicine, gastroenterology, and obesity medicine and completed her bariatric endoscopy and advanced endoscopy fellowships at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. She serves as a consultant for Apollo Endosurgery, Spatz Medical, and ERBE, and she receives research support from USGI Medical, GI Dynamics, and Fractyl.
References
1. Abu Dayyeh BK et al. Lancet. 2022;400(10350):441-51.
2. Wilding JPH et al. N Engl J Med. 2021;384:989-1002.
3. Jirapinyo P and Thompson CC. Gastrointest Endosc. 2022;96(3):479-86.
4. Sharaiha RZ et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2021;19(5):1051-57.
5. Hemo B et al. Diabetes Res Clin Pract. 2011;94(2):269-75.
A new frontier for weight management: Assess your options carefully
BY CAROLYN NEWBERRY, MD
Considering the continued rise in obesity rates in this country coupled with an increase in associated digestive disease burden from conditions such as nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), and select gastrointestinal malignancies, I believe it is now more important than ever for gastroenterologists to familiarize themselves with weight management principles and incorporation into clinical practice. A growing arsenal of tools is available for addressing excess weight, including medications and novel endobariatric techniques. Although the latter is an important consideration in patients with obesity, lifestyle counseling with or without weight loss medications sets the stage for sustainable weight loss success and may eliminate the need for procedural intervention. As such, current guidelines set forth by multiple societies, including the American Gastroenterological Association (AGA), emphasize the importance of lifestyle counseling targeting caloric restriction and increased physical activity along with medical augmentation via pharmacological agents in eligible patients.1,2 These guidelines underline the importance of medical weight management prior to consideration of procedural options, including both endobariatrics and more classic bariatric surgeries. This ensures patients understand approaches to weight loss via noninvasive means, reduces risk of weight regain by building foundational habits, and enhances overall success of procedures long term if they are pursued. In addition, newer pharmacological agents are now approaching total body weight loss percentages of currently available endobariatric techniques while still showing high tolerance rates and long-term efficacy, indicating some patients who previously would require procedures to meet weight loss goals may no longer need them.3 Alternatively, these medications may augment efforts prior to procedures, enhancing overall total body weight loss achieved. If patients are not introduced to such options initially and as a part of comprehensive care management planning, they may not achieve the same degree of weight loss success and metabolic optimization.
As a gastroenterologist co-leading a multidisciplinary weight management and lifestyle clinic, I have witnessed firsthand the enhanced outcomes in patients who pursue endobariatric procedures after establishing care with a clinical team and attempting (and succeeding) in weight loss via changes in diet, physical activity, and medication use. Patients should be encouraged to gain understanding of one’s own “personal relationship” with food and/or address medical and social barriers to weight loss maintenance prior to procedural intervention, which requires some lead time and ideally professional expertise from multiple team members, including a dietitian. Weight regain after anti-obesity surgery is common, with significant gain occurring in up to half of patients. Several factors have been associated with weight regain, including lack of consistent follow-up, excess calorie and simple carbohydrate intake, and inconsistent physical activity.4 As such, most insurance companies mandate a trial of at least 6 months of lifestyle and/or medical weight management prior to considering procedural reimbursement. Although robust longitudinal data for endobariatric outcomes is not yet available, it is reasonable to believe similar concepts may be in play. In fact, since endobariatric procedures are less invasive but also therefore more temporal (as in the case of endoscopic balloon placement, which is only approved for 6 months of continuous use), behavioral modification and medical management to reduce risk of significant weight regain is even more imperative. Even in the case of more durable procedures, such as endoscopic gastroplasty, lack of compliance with recommended dietary protocols can reduce efficacy by loosening and even ripping sutures prior to establishment of bridging fibrotic mucosal changes, which enhance longevity of the procedure and support continued gastric restriction and reduction in motility. Some patients who undergo endoscopic gastroplasty end up seeking out revision and repeat procedure later due to lack of results, which may be avoided with alternative dietary and lifestyle decisions in the postprocedural state.
The landscape of non-procedural weight management tools has changed in the last 1-2 years with the approval of newer injectable medications that disrupt insulin and hormonal pathways and produce sustainable weight loss similar to reported outcomes achieved with endobariatric procedures. These medications are becoming increasingly accessible and of interest to patients, with continued destigmatization of the use of weight loss drugs in practice, which had previous negative connotations and concerns regarding safety. New guidelines put forth by the AGA recommend adding pharmacological agents to lifestyle interventions over continuing lifestyle interventions alone if adequate weight loss has not been achieved with the latter.3 This further exemplifies the importance of a multifaceted approach to optimize medical weight management as first-line therapy for obesity and associated comorbidities.
In summary, although endobariatric procedures are an important tool for gastroenterologists to incorporate into their weight management plans, they must be implemented with care and only after lifestyle and medical interventions have failed to produce desired results. Shared decision making among providers and patients enhances weight loss efforts and augments sustainability of outcomes. Considering the rapidly evolving landscape of obesity medicine, gastroenterologists need to continue to stay up to date on best practices to improve patient care, reduce associated morbidity, and enhance outcomes of novel endobariatric procedures.
Dr. Newberry is with the Innovative Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology (ICHANGE), division of gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medical Center, New York. She disclosed receiving speaker honorariums from Baxter International and InBody USA.
References
1. Acosta et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2017 May;15(5):631-49.
2. Jensen et al. Circulation. 2014;129:S102-38.
3. Grunvald et al. Gastroenterology. 2022;163(5):1198-225.
4. Athansiadis et al. Surg Endosc. 2021 Aug;35(8):4069-84.
Dear colleagues,
Treating obesity easily falls under our purview as gastroenterologists. But like the mouse who would bell the cat, our direct involvement has been limited. However, over the past decade, advances in endobariatrics and medical management have given us many options. But how do we choose from this growing armamentarium of minimally invasive procedures and weight loss medicines? What combination is best? And what about the standard “diet and exercise”?
In this issue of perspectives, Carolyn Newberry, MD, director of GI nutrition at Innovation Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medicine, New York, will emphasize the benefits of medical and lifestyle management. Pichamol Jirapinyo, MD, MPH, ABOM, director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston, responds with robust data for endoscopic therapies. We hope that their expert perspectives will help guide you in your own approach to obesity management – certainly no one size fits all. I welcome your thoughts on this growing field in gastroenterology – share with us on Twitter @AGA_GIHN.
Gyanprakash A. Ketwaroo, MD, MSc, is associate professor of medicine, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and chief of endoscopy at West Haven (Conn.) VA Medical Center. He is an associate editor for GI & Hepatology News.
Exciting time for endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapies (EBMTs)
BY PICHAMOL JIRAPINYO, MD, MPH, ABOM
2022 was an exciting year for our field of endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapy (EBMT). Not only did it mark the 10th year anniversary since the very first-in-human endoscopic sleeve gastroplasty (ESG) performed by Christopher Thompson and Robert Hawes in India, but also the MERIT trial (a randomized-controlled trial on ESG) was published.1 This decade of work led to the OverStitch Endoscopic Suturing System (Apollo Endosurgery, Austin, Tex.) being granted de novo authorization from the Food and Drug Administration for the treatment of obesity and weight regain following bariatric surgery.
Currently, at our institution, we offer four primary EBMTs for patients who are seeking endoscopic weight loss therapy and have not yet undergone prior bariatric surgery. These include the Orbera intragastric balloon (IGB) (Apollo Endosurgery), ESG (Apollo Endosurgery), primary obesity surgery endoluminal (POSE: USGI Medical, San Clemente, Calif.), and a gastric plication procedure using Endomina (Endo Tools Therapeutics, Gosselies, Belgium). While the former two have FDA approval, the latter two devices have FDA clearance for tissue approximation. The indication for primary EBMTs includes having a body mass index of at least 30 kg/m2.
From our experience, patients who present to our bariatric endoscopy clinic consist of three groups. First are those who have tried several anti-obesity medications (AOMs), but are unable to tolerate the side effects or their BMI remains greater than 30 kg/m2. Second are those who have heard about EBMTs and are interested in the procedures. Usually, these patients are either too light to qualify for bariatric surgery (BMI 30-35 kg/m2 or 35-40 kg/m2 without an obesity-related comorbidity) or are not interested in bariatric surgery for a variety of reasons, including its perceived invasiveness. The last group are those whose BMI falls within the “super obese” category, defined as a BMI ≥ 50 kg/m2, who are deemed too high risk to undergo medically necessary procedures, such as an orthopedic, colorectal, or transplant surgery.
During the initial consultation, I always discuss pros and cons of all treatment modalities for obesity with the patients, ranging from lifestyle modification to AOMs, EBMTs, and bariatric surgeries. While the data on AOMs are promising, especially with the most recent FDA-approved semaglutide (Wegovy: Novo Nordisk, Bagsvaerd, Denmark) yielding 14.9% total weight loss (TWL) at 1 year, in reality, the starting doses of this medication have been out of stock for over a year.2 Other AOMs, on the other hand, are associated with 6%-8% TWL and are frequently associated with intolerance due to side effects. In comparison, meta-analyses demonstrate that an IGB is associated with 11.3% TWL and ESG with 16.5% TWL at 1 year. Our recent publication describing a new technique for POSE, also known as a distal POSE procedure with a double-helix technique, demonstrates a 20.3% TWL at 1 year.3 The rate of serious adverse events for EBMTs is low with 0.1% for IGB and 1%-2% for ESG/POSE.
The question regarding a comparison between AOMs and EBMTs comes up quite frequently in clinical practice. In reality, I often encourage my patients to consider combination therapy where I prescribe an AOM at 3-6 months following EBMTs to augment the amount of weight loss. However, since this is a debate, I will highlight a few advantages of EBMTs. First, the amount of weight loss following EBMTs, especially with ESG/POSE (which is currently the most commonly-requested procedure in our practice), tends to be higher than that of most AOMs. Second, while we are eagerly awaiting the long-term safety and efficacy data for semaglutide, ESG has been shown to be durable with the patients maintaining 15.9% TWL at 5 years.4 Third, an EBMT is a one-time procedure. In contrast, AOMs rely on patients’ compliance with taking the medication(s) reliably and indefinitely. A study based on HMO pharmacy data of over a million patients who were prescribed AOMs showed that fewer than 2% completed 12 months of weight loss medication therapy.5 The long-term use of AOMs also has cost implications. Specifically, a month supply of semaglutide costs about $1,400, which translates to $16,800 in 1 year and $84,000 in 5 years, which clearly outweighs the cost of ESG/POSE that has been demonstrated to be durable up to at least 5 years. IGBs have limitations similar to those of AOMs upon removal. Nevertheless, with the average cost of an IGB being $8,000, placing one every year would still be less costly, although this would likely be unnecessary considering the weight loss trend after IGB.
There are a few hurdles that need to be overcome before EBMTs are widely adopted. Reimbursement remains a major issue at most centers in the United States. Currently, most EBMTs are offered as a self-pay procedure, making the majority of patients who are otherwise eligible and interested not able to afford the procedure. With the recently published MERIT trial, long-term data on ESG as well as several upcoming society guidelines on EBMTs, we are hopeful that insurance coverage for EBMTs is nearing. Another important aspect is training. While IGB placement and removal are simple procedures, performing a high-quality ESG/POSE requires rigorous training to ensure safety and optimal outcomes. Several professional societies are working hard to develop curriculums on EBMTs with a focus on hands-on training to ensure endoscopists are properly trained prior to starting their bariatric endoscopy program. At our institution, we have a dedicated training program focusing on bariatric endoscopy (i.e. separate from the traditional advanced endoscopy fellowship), where fellows learn advanced bariatric suturing and plication as well as multidisciplinary care for this patient population. I am hopeful that this kind of training will become more prevalent in the near future.
With mounting evidence supporting the benefits of EBMTs, bariatric endoscopy has revolutionized the care of patients suffering from obesity and its related comorbidities. Moving forward, the field will continue to evolve, and EBMT procedures will only become simpler, safer, and more effective. It is an exciting time for gastroenterologists to get involved.
Dr. Jirapinyo is the director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston. She is board certified in internal medicine, gastroenterology, and obesity medicine and completed her bariatric endoscopy and advanced endoscopy fellowships at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. She serves as a consultant for Apollo Endosurgery, Spatz Medical, and ERBE, and she receives research support from USGI Medical, GI Dynamics, and Fractyl.
References
1. Abu Dayyeh BK et al. Lancet. 2022;400(10350):441-51.
2. Wilding JPH et al. N Engl J Med. 2021;384:989-1002.
3. Jirapinyo P and Thompson CC. Gastrointest Endosc. 2022;96(3):479-86.
4. Sharaiha RZ et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2021;19(5):1051-57.
5. Hemo B et al. Diabetes Res Clin Pract. 2011;94(2):269-75.
A new frontier for weight management: Assess your options carefully
BY CAROLYN NEWBERRY, MD
Considering the continued rise in obesity rates in this country coupled with an increase in associated digestive disease burden from conditions such as nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), and select gastrointestinal malignancies, I believe it is now more important than ever for gastroenterologists to familiarize themselves with weight management principles and incorporation into clinical practice. A growing arsenal of tools is available for addressing excess weight, including medications and novel endobariatric techniques. Although the latter is an important consideration in patients with obesity, lifestyle counseling with or without weight loss medications sets the stage for sustainable weight loss success and may eliminate the need for procedural intervention. As such, current guidelines set forth by multiple societies, including the American Gastroenterological Association (AGA), emphasize the importance of lifestyle counseling targeting caloric restriction and increased physical activity along with medical augmentation via pharmacological agents in eligible patients.1,2 These guidelines underline the importance of medical weight management prior to consideration of procedural options, including both endobariatrics and more classic bariatric surgeries. This ensures patients understand approaches to weight loss via noninvasive means, reduces risk of weight regain by building foundational habits, and enhances overall success of procedures long term if they are pursued. In addition, newer pharmacological agents are now approaching total body weight loss percentages of currently available endobariatric techniques while still showing high tolerance rates and long-term efficacy, indicating some patients who previously would require procedures to meet weight loss goals may no longer need them.3 Alternatively, these medications may augment efforts prior to procedures, enhancing overall total body weight loss achieved. If patients are not introduced to such options initially and as a part of comprehensive care management planning, they may not achieve the same degree of weight loss success and metabolic optimization.
As a gastroenterologist co-leading a multidisciplinary weight management and lifestyle clinic, I have witnessed firsthand the enhanced outcomes in patients who pursue endobariatric procedures after establishing care with a clinical team and attempting (and succeeding) in weight loss via changes in diet, physical activity, and medication use. Patients should be encouraged to gain understanding of one’s own “personal relationship” with food and/or address medical and social barriers to weight loss maintenance prior to procedural intervention, which requires some lead time and ideally professional expertise from multiple team members, including a dietitian. Weight regain after anti-obesity surgery is common, with significant gain occurring in up to half of patients. Several factors have been associated with weight regain, including lack of consistent follow-up, excess calorie and simple carbohydrate intake, and inconsistent physical activity.4 As such, most insurance companies mandate a trial of at least 6 months of lifestyle and/or medical weight management prior to considering procedural reimbursement. Although robust longitudinal data for endobariatric outcomes is not yet available, it is reasonable to believe similar concepts may be in play. In fact, since endobariatric procedures are less invasive but also therefore more temporal (as in the case of endoscopic balloon placement, which is only approved for 6 months of continuous use), behavioral modification and medical management to reduce risk of significant weight regain is even more imperative. Even in the case of more durable procedures, such as endoscopic gastroplasty, lack of compliance with recommended dietary protocols can reduce efficacy by loosening and even ripping sutures prior to establishment of bridging fibrotic mucosal changes, which enhance longevity of the procedure and support continued gastric restriction and reduction in motility. Some patients who undergo endoscopic gastroplasty end up seeking out revision and repeat procedure later due to lack of results, which may be avoided with alternative dietary and lifestyle decisions in the postprocedural state.
The landscape of non-procedural weight management tools has changed in the last 1-2 years with the approval of newer injectable medications that disrupt insulin and hormonal pathways and produce sustainable weight loss similar to reported outcomes achieved with endobariatric procedures. These medications are becoming increasingly accessible and of interest to patients, with continued destigmatization of the use of weight loss drugs in practice, which had previous negative connotations and concerns regarding safety. New guidelines put forth by the AGA recommend adding pharmacological agents to lifestyle interventions over continuing lifestyle interventions alone if adequate weight loss has not been achieved with the latter.3 This further exemplifies the importance of a multifaceted approach to optimize medical weight management as first-line therapy for obesity and associated comorbidities.
In summary, although endobariatric procedures are an important tool for gastroenterologists to incorporate into their weight management plans, they must be implemented with care and only after lifestyle and medical interventions have failed to produce desired results. Shared decision making among providers and patients enhances weight loss efforts and augments sustainability of outcomes. Considering the rapidly evolving landscape of obesity medicine, gastroenterologists need to continue to stay up to date on best practices to improve patient care, reduce associated morbidity, and enhance outcomes of novel endobariatric procedures.
Dr. Newberry is with the Innovative Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology (ICHANGE), division of gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medical Center, New York. She disclosed receiving speaker honorariums from Baxter International and InBody USA.
References
1. Acosta et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2017 May;15(5):631-49.
2. Jensen et al. Circulation. 2014;129:S102-38.
3. Grunvald et al. Gastroenterology. 2022;163(5):1198-225.
4. Athansiadis et al. Surg Endosc. 2021 Aug;35(8):4069-84.
Dear colleagues,
Treating obesity easily falls under our purview as gastroenterologists. But like the mouse who would bell the cat, our direct involvement has been limited. However, over the past decade, advances in endobariatrics and medical management have given us many options. But how do we choose from this growing armamentarium of minimally invasive procedures and weight loss medicines? What combination is best? And what about the standard “diet and exercise”?
In this issue of perspectives, Carolyn Newberry, MD, director of GI nutrition at Innovation Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medicine, New York, will emphasize the benefits of medical and lifestyle management. Pichamol Jirapinyo, MD, MPH, ABOM, director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston, responds with robust data for endoscopic therapies. We hope that their expert perspectives will help guide you in your own approach to obesity management – certainly no one size fits all. I welcome your thoughts on this growing field in gastroenterology – share with us on Twitter @AGA_GIHN.
Gyanprakash A. Ketwaroo, MD, MSc, is associate professor of medicine, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and chief of endoscopy at West Haven (Conn.) VA Medical Center. He is an associate editor for GI & Hepatology News.
Exciting time for endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapies (EBMTs)
BY PICHAMOL JIRAPINYO, MD, MPH, ABOM
2022 was an exciting year for our field of endoscopic bariatric and metabolic therapy (EBMT). Not only did it mark the 10th year anniversary since the very first-in-human endoscopic sleeve gastroplasty (ESG) performed by Christopher Thompson and Robert Hawes in India, but also the MERIT trial (a randomized-controlled trial on ESG) was published.1 This decade of work led to the OverStitch Endoscopic Suturing System (Apollo Endosurgery, Austin, Tex.) being granted de novo authorization from the Food and Drug Administration for the treatment of obesity and weight regain following bariatric surgery.
Currently, at our institution, we offer four primary EBMTs for patients who are seeking endoscopic weight loss therapy and have not yet undergone prior bariatric surgery. These include the Orbera intragastric balloon (IGB) (Apollo Endosurgery), ESG (Apollo Endosurgery), primary obesity surgery endoluminal (POSE: USGI Medical, San Clemente, Calif.), and a gastric plication procedure using Endomina (Endo Tools Therapeutics, Gosselies, Belgium). While the former two have FDA approval, the latter two devices have FDA clearance for tissue approximation. The indication for primary EBMTs includes having a body mass index of at least 30 kg/m2.
From our experience, patients who present to our bariatric endoscopy clinic consist of three groups. First are those who have tried several anti-obesity medications (AOMs), but are unable to tolerate the side effects or their BMI remains greater than 30 kg/m2. Second are those who have heard about EBMTs and are interested in the procedures. Usually, these patients are either too light to qualify for bariatric surgery (BMI 30-35 kg/m2 or 35-40 kg/m2 without an obesity-related comorbidity) or are not interested in bariatric surgery for a variety of reasons, including its perceived invasiveness. The last group are those whose BMI falls within the “super obese” category, defined as a BMI ≥ 50 kg/m2, who are deemed too high risk to undergo medically necessary procedures, such as an orthopedic, colorectal, or transplant surgery.
During the initial consultation, I always discuss pros and cons of all treatment modalities for obesity with the patients, ranging from lifestyle modification to AOMs, EBMTs, and bariatric surgeries. While the data on AOMs are promising, especially with the most recent FDA-approved semaglutide (Wegovy: Novo Nordisk, Bagsvaerd, Denmark) yielding 14.9% total weight loss (TWL) at 1 year, in reality, the starting doses of this medication have been out of stock for over a year.2 Other AOMs, on the other hand, are associated with 6%-8% TWL and are frequently associated with intolerance due to side effects. In comparison, meta-analyses demonstrate that an IGB is associated with 11.3% TWL and ESG with 16.5% TWL at 1 year. Our recent publication describing a new technique for POSE, also known as a distal POSE procedure with a double-helix technique, demonstrates a 20.3% TWL at 1 year.3 The rate of serious adverse events for EBMTs is low with 0.1% for IGB and 1%-2% for ESG/POSE.
The question regarding a comparison between AOMs and EBMTs comes up quite frequently in clinical practice. In reality, I often encourage my patients to consider combination therapy where I prescribe an AOM at 3-6 months following EBMTs to augment the amount of weight loss. However, since this is a debate, I will highlight a few advantages of EBMTs. First, the amount of weight loss following EBMTs, especially with ESG/POSE (which is currently the most commonly-requested procedure in our practice), tends to be higher than that of most AOMs. Second, while we are eagerly awaiting the long-term safety and efficacy data for semaglutide, ESG has been shown to be durable with the patients maintaining 15.9% TWL at 5 years.4 Third, an EBMT is a one-time procedure. In contrast, AOMs rely on patients’ compliance with taking the medication(s) reliably and indefinitely. A study based on HMO pharmacy data of over a million patients who were prescribed AOMs showed that fewer than 2% completed 12 months of weight loss medication therapy.5 The long-term use of AOMs also has cost implications. Specifically, a month supply of semaglutide costs about $1,400, which translates to $16,800 in 1 year and $84,000 in 5 years, which clearly outweighs the cost of ESG/POSE that has been demonstrated to be durable up to at least 5 years. IGBs have limitations similar to those of AOMs upon removal. Nevertheless, with the average cost of an IGB being $8,000, placing one every year would still be less costly, although this would likely be unnecessary considering the weight loss trend after IGB.
There are a few hurdles that need to be overcome before EBMTs are widely adopted. Reimbursement remains a major issue at most centers in the United States. Currently, most EBMTs are offered as a self-pay procedure, making the majority of patients who are otherwise eligible and interested not able to afford the procedure. With the recently published MERIT trial, long-term data on ESG as well as several upcoming society guidelines on EBMTs, we are hopeful that insurance coverage for EBMTs is nearing. Another important aspect is training. While IGB placement and removal are simple procedures, performing a high-quality ESG/POSE requires rigorous training to ensure safety and optimal outcomes. Several professional societies are working hard to develop curriculums on EBMTs with a focus on hands-on training to ensure endoscopists are properly trained prior to starting their bariatric endoscopy program. At our institution, we have a dedicated training program focusing on bariatric endoscopy (i.e. separate from the traditional advanced endoscopy fellowship), where fellows learn advanced bariatric suturing and plication as well as multidisciplinary care for this patient population. I am hopeful that this kind of training will become more prevalent in the near future.
With mounting evidence supporting the benefits of EBMTs, bariatric endoscopy has revolutionized the care of patients suffering from obesity and its related comorbidities. Moving forward, the field will continue to evolve, and EBMT procedures will only become simpler, safer, and more effective. It is an exciting time for gastroenterologists to get involved.
Dr. Jirapinyo is the director of bariatric endoscopy fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School, Boston. She is board certified in internal medicine, gastroenterology, and obesity medicine and completed her bariatric endoscopy and advanced endoscopy fellowships at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. She serves as a consultant for Apollo Endosurgery, Spatz Medical, and ERBE, and she receives research support from USGI Medical, GI Dynamics, and Fractyl.
References
1. Abu Dayyeh BK et al. Lancet. 2022;400(10350):441-51.
2. Wilding JPH et al. N Engl J Med. 2021;384:989-1002.
3. Jirapinyo P and Thompson CC. Gastrointest Endosc. 2022;96(3):479-86.
4. Sharaiha RZ et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2021;19(5):1051-57.
5. Hemo B et al. Diabetes Res Clin Pract. 2011;94(2):269-75.
A new frontier for weight management: Assess your options carefully
BY CAROLYN NEWBERRY, MD
Considering the continued rise in obesity rates in this country coupled with an increase in associated digestive disease burden from conditions such as nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), and select gastrointestinal malignancies, I believe it is now more important than ever for gastroenterologists to familiarize themselves with weight management principles and incorporation into clinical practice. A growing arsenal of tools is available for addressing excess weight, including medications and novel endobariatric techniques. Although the latter is an important consideration in patients with obesity, lifestyle counseling with or without weight loss medications sets the stage for sustainable weight loss success and may eliminate the need for procedural intervention. As such, current guidelines set forth by multiple societies, including the American Gastroenterological Association (AGA), emphasize the importance of lifestyle counseling targeting caloric restriction and increased physical activity along with medical augmentation via pharmacological agents in eligible patients.1,2 These guidelines underline the importance of medical weight management prior to consideration of procedural options, including both endobariatrics and more classic bariatric surgeries. This ensures patients understand approaches to weight loss via noninvasive means, reduces risk of weight regain by building foundational habits, and enhances overall success of procedures long term if they are pursued. In addition, newer pharmacological agents are now approaching total body weight loss percentages of currently available endobariatric techniques while still showing high tolerance rates and long-term efficacy, indicating some patients who previously would require procedures to meet weight loss goals may no longer need them.3 Alternatively, these medications may augment efforts prior to procedures, enhancing overall total body weight loss achieved. If patients are not introduced to such options initially and as a part of comprehensive care management planning, they may not achieve the same degree of weight loss success and metabolic optimization.
As a gastroenterologist co-leading a multidisciplinary weight management and lifestyle clinic, I have witnessed firsthand the enhanced outcomes in patients who pursue endobariatric procedures after establishing care with a clinical team and attempting (and succeeding) in weight loss via changes in diet, physical activity, and medication use. Patients should be encouraged to gain understanding of one’s own “personal relationship” with food and/or address medical and social barriers to weight loss maintenance prior to procedural intervention, which requires some lead time and ideally professional expertise from multiple team members, including a dietitian. Weight regain after anti-obesity surgery is common, with significant gain occurring in up to half of patients. Several factors have been associated with weight regain, including lack of consistent follow-up, excess calorie and simple carbohydrate intake, and inconsistent physical activity.4 As such, most insurance companies mandate a trial of at least 6 months of lifestyle and/or medical weight management prior to considering procedural reimbursement. Although robust longitudinal data for endobariatric outcomes is not yet available, it is reasonable to believe similar concepts may be in play. In fact, since endobariatric procedures are less invasive but also therefore more temporal (as in the case of endoscopic balloon placement, which is only approved for 6 months of continuous use), behavioral modification and medical management to reduce risk of significant weight regain is even more imperative. Even in the case of more durable procedures, such as endoscopic gastroplasty, lack of compliance with recommended dietary protocols can reduce efficacy by loosening and even ripping sutures prior to establishment of bridging fibrotic mucosal changes, which enhance longevity of the procedure and support continued gastric restriction and reduction in motility. Some patients who undergo endoscopic gastroplasty end up seeking out revision and repeat procedure later due to lack of results, which may be avoided with alternative dietary and lifestyle decisions in the postprocedural state.
The landscape of non-procedural weight management tools has changed in the last 1-2 years with the approval of newer injectable medications that disrupt insulin and hormonal pathways and produce sustainable weight loss similar to reported outcomes achieved with endobariatric procedures. These medications are becoming increasingly accessible and of interest to patients, with continued destigmatization of the use of weight loss drugs in practice, which had previous negative connotations and concerns regarding safety. New guidelines put forth by the AGA recommend adding pharmacological agents to lifestyle interventions over continuing lifestyle interventions alone if adequate weight loss has not been achieved with the latter.3 This further exemplifies the importance of a multifaceted approach to optimize medical weight management as first-line therapy for obesity and associated comorbidities.
In summary, although endobariatric procedures are an important tool for gastroenterologists to incorporate into their weight management plans, they must be implemented with care and only after lifestyle and medical interventions have failed to produce desired results. Shared decision making among providers and patients enhances weight loss efforts and augments sustainability of outcomes. Considering the rapidly evolving landscape of obesity medicine, gastroenterologists need to continue to stay up to date on best practices to improve patient care, reduce associated morbidity, and enhance outcomes of novel endobariatric procedures.
Dr. Newberry is with the Innovative Center for Health and Nutrition in Gastroenterology (ICHANGE), division of gastroenterology, Weill Cornell Medical Center, New York. She disclosed receiving speaker honorariums from Baxter International and InBody USA.
References
1. Acosta et al. Clin Gastroenterol Hepatol. 2017 May;15(5):631-49.
2. Jensen et al. Circulation. 2014;129:S102-38.
3. Grunvald et al. Gastroenterology. 2022;163(5):1198-225.
4. Athansiadis et al. Surg Endosc. 2021 Aug;35(8):4069-84.
The trauma of sudden death
“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980
The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.
Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.
Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.
Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.
Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.
Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”
Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.
Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.
Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.
Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.
While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.
“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”
Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?
One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.
In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.
“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”
When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.
Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.
The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.
Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980
The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.
Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.
Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.
Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.
Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.
Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”
Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.
Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.
Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.
Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.
While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.
“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”
Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?
One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.
In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.
“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”
When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.
Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.
The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.
Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980
The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.
Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.
Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.
Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.
Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.
Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”
Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.
Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.
Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.
Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.
While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.
“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”
Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?
One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.
In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.
“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”
When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.
Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.
The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.
Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A doctor saves a drowning family in a dangerous river
Is There a Doctor in the House? is a new series telling these stories.
I live on the Maumee River in Ohio, about 50 yards from the water. I had an early quit time and came home to meet my wife for lunch. Afterward, I went up to my barn across the main road to tinker around. It was a nice day out, so my wife had opened some windows. Suddenly, she heard screaming from the river. It did not sound like fun.
She ran down to the river’s edge and saw a dad and three boys struggling in the water. She phoned me screaming: “They’re drowning! They’re drowning!” I jumped in my truck and drove up our driveway through the yard right down to the river.
My wife was on the phone with 911 at that point, and I could see them about 75-100 yards out. The dad had two of the boys clinging around his neck. They were going under the water and coming up and going under again. The other boy was just floating nearby, face down, motionless.
I threw my shoes and scrubs off and started to walk towards the water. My wife screamed at me, “You’re not going in there!” I said, “I’m not going to stand here and watch this. It’s not going to happen.”
I’m not a kid anymore, but I was a high school swimmer, and to this day I work out all the time. I felt like I had to try something. So, I went in the water despite my wife yelling and I swam towards them.
What happens when you get in that deep water is that you panic. You can’t hear anyone because of the rapids, and your instinct is to swim back towards where you went in, which is against the current. Unless you’re a very strong swimmer, you’re just wasting your time, swimming in place.
But these guys weren’t trying to go anywhere. Dad was just trying to stay up and keep the boys alive. He was in about 10 feet of water. What they didn’t see or just didn’t know: About 20 yards upstream from that deep water is a little island.
When I got to them, I yelled at the dad to move towards the island, “Go backwards! Go back!” I flipped the boy over who wasn’t moving. He was the oldest of the three, around 10 or 11 years old. When I turned him over, he was blue and wasn’t breathing. I put my fingers on his neck and didn’t feel a pulse.
So, I’m treading water, holding him. I put an arm behind his back and started doing chest compressions on him. I probably did a dozen to 15 compressions – nothing. I thought, I’ve got to get some air in this kid. So, I gave him two deep breaths and then started doing compressions again. I know ACLS and CPR training would say we don’t do that anymore. But I couldn’t just sit there and give up. Shortly after that, he coughed out a large amount of water and started breathing.
The dad and the other two boys had made it to the island. So, I started moving towards it with the boy. It was a few minutes before he regained consciousness. Of course, he was unaware of what had happened. He started to scream, because here’s this strange man holding him. But he was breathing. That’s all I cared about.
When we got to the island, I saw that my neighbor downstream had launched his canoe. He’s a retired gentleman who lives next to me, a very physically fit man. He started rolling as hard as he could towards us, against the stream. I kind of gave him a thumbs up, like, “we’re safe now. We’re standing.” We loaded the kids and the dad in the canoe and made it back against the stream to the parking lot where they went in.
All this took probably 10 or 15 minutes, and by then the paramedics were there. Life Flight had been dispatched up by my barn where there’s room to land. So, they drove up there in the ambulance. The boy I revived was flown to the hospital. The others went in the ambulance.
I know all the ED docs, so I talked to somebody later who, with permission from the family, said they were all doing fine. They were getting x-rays on the boy’s lungs. And then I heard the dad and two boys were released that night. The other boy I worked on was observed overnight and discharged the following morning.
Four or 5 days later, I heard from their pediatrician, who also had permission to share. He sent me a very nice note through Epic that he had seen the boys. Besides some mental trauma, they were all healthy and doing fine.
The family lives in the area and the kids go to school 5 miles from my house. So, the following weekend they came over. It was Father’s Day, which was kind of cool. They brought me some flowers and candy and a card the boys had drawn to thank me.
I learned that the dad had brought the boys to the fishing site. They were horsing around in knee deep water. One of the boys walked off a little way and didn’t realize there was a drop off. He went in, and of course the dad went after him, and the other two followed.
I said to the parents: “Look, things like this happen for a reason. People like your son are saved and go on in this world because they’ve got special things to do. I can’t wait to see what kind of man he becomes.”
Two or 3 months later, it was football season, and I got at a message from the dad saying their son was playing football on Saturday at the school. He wondered if I could drop by. So, I kind of snuck over and watched, but I didn’t go say hi. There’s trauma there, and I didn’t want them to have to relive that.
I’m very fortunate that I exercise every day and I know how to do CPR and swim. And thank God the boy was floating when I got to him, or I never would’ve found him. The Maumee River is known as the “muddy Maumee.” You can’t see anything under the water.
Depending on the time of year, the river can be almost dry or overflowing into the parking lot with the current rushing hard. If it had been like that, I wouldn’t have considered going in. And they wouldn’t they have been there in the first place. They’d have been a mile downstream.
I took a risk. I could have gone out there and had the dad and two other kids jump on top of me. Then we all would have been in trouble. But like I told my wife, I couldn’t stand there and watch it. I’m just not that person.
I think it was also about being a dad myself and having grandkids now. Doctor or no doctor, I felt like I was in reasonably good shape and I had to go in there to help. This dad was trying his butt off, but three little kids is too many. You can’t do that by yourself. They were not going to make it.
I go to the hospital and I save lives as part of my job, and I don’t even come home and talk about it. But this is a whole different thing. Being able to save someone’s life when put in this situation is very gratifying. It’s a tremendous feeling. There’s a reason that young man is here today, and I’ll be watching for great things from him.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Daniel Cassavar, MD, is a cardiologist with ProMedica in Perrysburg, Ohio.
Is There a Doctor in the House? is a new series telling these stories.
I live on the Maumee River in Ohio, about 50 yards from the water. I had an early quit time and came home to meet my wife for lunch. Afterward, I went up to my barn across the main road to tinker around. It was a nice day out, so my wife had opened some windows. Suddenly, she heard screaming from the river. It did not sound like fun.
She ran down to the river’s edge and saw a dad and three boys struggling in the water. She phoned me screaming: “They’re drowning! They’re drowning!” I jumped in my truck and drove up our driveway through the yard right down to the river.
My wife was on the phone with 911 at that point, and I could see them about 75-100 yards out. The dad had two of the boys clinging around his neck. They were going under the water and coming up and going under again. The other boy was just floating nearby, face down, motionless.
I threw my shoes and scrubs off and started to walk towards the water. My wife screamed at me, “You’re not going in there!” I said, “I’m not going to stand here and watch this. It’s not going to happen.”
I’m not a kid anymore, but I was a high school swimmer, and to this day I work out all the time. I felt like I had to try something. So, I went in the water despite my wife yelling and I swam towards them.
What happens when you get in that deep water is that you panic. You can’t hear anyone because of the rapids, and your instinct is to swim back towards where you went in, which is against the current. Unless you’re a very strong swimmer, you’re just wasting your time, swimming in place.
But these guys weren’t trying to go anywhere. Dad was just trying to stay up and keep the boys alive. He was in about 10 feet of water. What they didn’t see or just didn’t know: About 20 yards upstream from that deep water is a little island.
When I got to them, I yelled at the dad to move towards the island, “Go backwards! Go back!” I flipped the boy over who wasn’t moving. He was the oldest of the three, around 10 or 11 years old. When I turned him over, he was blue and wasn’t breathing. I put my fingers on his neck and didn’t feel a pulse.
So, I’m treading water, holding him. I put an arm behind his back and started doing chest compressions on him. I probably did a dozen to 15 compressions – nothing. I thought, I’ve got to get some air in this kid. So, I gave him two deep breaths and then started doing compressions again. I know ACLS and CPR training would say we don’t do that anymore. But I couldn’t just sit there and give up. Shortly after that, he coughed out a large amount of water and started breathing.
The dad and the other two boys had made it to the island. So, I started moving towards it with the boy. It was a few minutes before he regained consciousness. Of course, he was unaware of what had happened. He started to scream, because here’s this strange man holding him. But he was breathing. That’s all I cared about.
When we got to the island, I saw that my neighbor downstream had launched his canoe. He’s a retired gentleman who lives next to me, a very physically fit man. He started rolling as hard as he could towards us, against the stream. I kind of gave him a thumbs up, like, “we’re safe now. We’re standing.” We loaded the kids and the dad in the canoe and made it back against the stream to the parking lot where they went in.
All this took probably 10 or 15 minutes, and by then the paramedics were there. Life Flight had been dispatched up by my barn where there’s room to land. So, they drove up there in the ambulance. The boy I revived was flown to the hospital. The others went in the ambulance.
I know all the ED docs, so I talked to somebody later who, with permission from the family, said they were all doing fine. They were getting x-rays on the boy’s lungs. And then I heard the dad and two boys were released that night. The other boy I worked on was observed overnight and discharged the following morning.
Four or 5 days later, I heard from their pediatrician, who also had permission to share. He sent me a very nice note through Epic that he had seen the boys. Besides some mental trauma, they were all healthy and doing fine.
The family lives in the area and the kids go to school 5 miles from my house. So, the following weekend they came over. It was Father’s Day, which was kind of cool. They brought me some flowers and candy and a card the boys had drawn to thank me.
I learned that the dad had brought the boys to the fishing site. They were horsing around in knee deep water. One of the boys walked off a little way and didn’t realize there was a drop off. He went in, and of course the dad went after him, and the other two followed.
I said to the parents: “Look, things like this happen for a reason. People like your son are saved and go on in this world because they’ve got special things to do. I can’t wait to see what kind of man he becomes.”
Two or 3 months later, it was football season, and I got at a message from the dad saying their son was playing football on Saturday at the school. He wondered if I could drop by. So, I kind of snuck over and watched, but I didn’t go say hi. There’s trauma there, and I didn’t want them to have to relive that.
I’m very fortunate that I exercise every day and I know how to do CPR and swim. And thank God the boy was floating when I got to him, or I never would’ve found him. The Maumee River is known as the “muddy Maumee.” You can’t see anything under the water.
Depending on the time of year, the river can be almost dry or overflowing into the parking lot with the current rushing hard. If it had been like that, I wouldn’t have considered going in. And they wouldn’t they have been there in the first place. They’d have been a mile downstream.
I took a risk. I could have gone out there and had the dad and two other kids jump on top of me. Then we all would have been in trouble. But like I told my wife, I couldn’t stand there and watch it. I’m just not that person.
I think it was also about being a dad myself and having grandkids now. Doctor or no doctor, I felt like I was in reasonably good shape and I had to go in there to help. This dad was trying his butt off, but three little kids is too many. You can’t do that by yourself. They were not going to make it.
I go to the hospital and I save lives as part of my job, and I don’t even come home and talk about it. But this is a whole different thing. Being able to save someone’s life when put in this situation is very gratifying. It’s a tremendous feeling. There’s a reason that young man is here today, and I’ll be watching for great things from him.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Daniel Cassavar, MD, is a cardiologist with ProMedica in Perrysburg, Ohio.
Is There a Doctor in the House? is a new series telling these stories.
I live on the Maumee River in Ohio, about 50 yards from the water. I had an early quit time and came home to meet my wife for lunch. Afterward, I went up to my barn across the main road to tinker around. It was a nice day out, so my wife had opened some windows. Suddenly, she heard screaming from the river. It did not sound like fun.
She ran down to the river’s edge and saw a dad and three boys struggling in the water. She phoned me screaming: “They’re drowning! They’re drowning!” I jumped in my truck and drove up our driveway through the yard right down to the river.
My wife was on the phone with 911 at that point, and I could see them about 75-100 yards out. The dad had two of the boys clinging around his neck. They were going under the water and coming up and going under again. The other boy was just floating nearby, face down, motionless.
I threw my shoes and scrubs off and started to walk towards the water. My wife screamed at me, “You’re not going in there!” I said, “I’m not going to stand here and watch this. It’s not going to happen.”
I’m not a kid anymore, but I was a high school swimmer, and to this day I work out all the time. I felt like I had to try something. So, I went in the water despite my wife yelling and I swam towards them.
What happens when you get in that deep water is that you panic. You can’t hear anyone because of the rapids, and your instinct is to swim back towards where you went in, which is against the current. Unless you’re a very strong swimmer, you’re just wasting your time, swimming in place.
But these guys weren’t trying to go anywhere. Dad was just trying to stay up and keep the boys alive. He was in about 10 feet of water. What they didn’t see or just didn’t know: About 20 yards upstream from that deep water is a little island.
When I got to them, I yelled at the dad to move towards the island, “Go backwards! Go back!” I flipped the boy over who wasn’t moving. He was the oldest of the three, around 10 or 11 years old. When I turned him over, he was blue and wasn’t breathing. I put my fingers on his neck and didn’t feel a pulse.
So, I’m treading water, holding him. I put an arm behind his back and started doing chest compressions on him. I probably did a dozen to 15 compressions – nothing. I thought, I’ve got to get some air in this kid. So, I gave him two deep breaths and then started doing compressions again. I know ACLS and CPR training would say we don’t do that anymore. But I couldn’t just sit there and give up. Shortly after that, he coughed out a large amount of water and started breathing.
The dad and the other two boys had made it to the island. So, I started moving towards it with the boy. It was a few minutes before he regained consciousness. Of course, he was unaware of what had happened. He started to scream, because here’s this strange man holding him. But he was breathing. That’s all I cared about.
When we got to the island, I saw that my neighbor downstream had launched his canoe. He’s a retired gentleman who lives next to me, a very physically fit man. He started rolling as hard as he could towards us, against the stream. I kind of gave him a thumbs up, like, “we’re safe now. We’re standing.” We loaded the kids and the dad in the canoe and made it back against the stream to the parking lot where they went in.
All this took probably 10 or 15 minutes, and by then the paramedics were there. Life Flight had been dispatched up by my barn where there’s room to land. So, they drove up there in the ambulance. The boy I revived was flown to the hospital. The others went in the ambulance.
I know all the ED docs, so I talked to somebody later who, with permission from the family, said they were all doing fine. They were getting x-rays on the boy’s lungs. And then I heard the dad and two boys were released that night. The other boy I worked on was observed overnight and discharged the following morning.
Four or 5 days later, I heard from their pediatrician, who also had permission to share. He sent me a very nice note through Epic that he had seen the boys. Besides some mental trauma, they were all healthy and doing fine.
The family lives in the area and the kids go to school 5 miles from my house. So, the following weekend they came over. It was Father’s Day, which was kind of cool. They brought me some flowers and candy and a card the boys had drawn to thank me.
I learned that the dad had brought the boys to the fishing site. They were horsing around in knee deep water. One of the boys walked off a little way and didn’t realize there was a drop off. He went in, and of course the dad went after him, and the other two followed.
I said to the parents: “Look, things like this happen for a reason. People like your son are saved and go on in this world because they’ve got special things to do. I can’t wait to see what kind of man he becomes.”
Two or 3 months later, it was football season, and I got at a message from the dad saying their son was playing football on Saturday at the school. He wondered if I could drop by. So, I kind of snuck over and watched, but I didn’t go say hi. There’s trauma there, and I didn’t want them to have to relive that.
I’m very fortunate that I exercise every day and I know how to do CPR and swim. And thank God the boy was floating when I got to him, or I never would’ve found him. The Maumee River is known as the “muddy Maumee.” You can’t see anything under the water.
Depending on the time of year, the river can be almost dry or overflowing into the parking lot with the current rushing hard. If it had been like that, I wouldn’t have considered going in. And they wouldn’t they have been there in the first place. They’d have been a mile downstream.
I took a risk. I could have gone out there and had the dad and two other kids jump on top of me. Then we all would have been in trouble. But like I told my wife, I couldn’t stand there and watch it. I’m just not that person.
I think it was also about being a dad myself and having grandkids now. Doctor or no doctor, I felt like I was in reasonably good shape and I had to go in there to help. This dad was trying his butt off, but three little kids is too many. You can’t do that by yourself. They were not going to make it.
I go to the hospital and I save lives as part of my job, and I don’t even come home and talk about it. But this is a whole different thing. Being able to save someone’s life when put in this situation is very gratifying. It’s a tremendous feeling. There’s a reason that young man is here today, and I’ll be watching for great things from him.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Daniel Cassavar, MD, is a cardiologist with ProMedica in Perrysburg, Ohio.