Current Psychiatry

Screening for adolescent substance use

I want to congratulate Dr. Verma on her article “Opioid use disorder in adolescents: An overview” (Evidence-Based Reviews, Current Psychiatry. February 2020, p. 12-14,16-21) and would like to make some contributions. Her article describes several screening tools that are available to assess adolescent substance use disorder (SUD), including the CRAFFT Interview, National Institute on Drug Abuse–modified ASSIST, Drug Use Screening Inventory (DUSI), Problem-Oriented Screening Instrument for Teenagers (POSIT), and Personal Experience Screening Questionnaire (PESQ). The ideal screening tool should be brief, easy to use, sensitive, specific to substance use and related problems, and able to guide subsequent assessment and intervention when appropriate.

Because evidence suggests there are continued barriers, such as time constraints, in evaluating for adolescent SUD,^1,2 I believe the Screen to Brief Intervention (S2BI) and Brief Screener for Tobacco, Alcohol and Drug (BSTAD) should be included.^3,4 The S2BI and BSTAD are brief screeners that assess substance use, are validated for adolescent patients, can be completed online, and can assist in identifying DSM-5 criteria for SUD.

The S2BI has demonstrated high sensitivity and specificity for identifying SUD.³ The single screening assessment for “past-year use” is quick and can be administered in a variety of clinical settings. The S2BI begins by asking a patient about his/her frequency of tobacco, alcohol, and/or marijuana use in the past year. If the patient endorses past-year use of any of these substances, the S2BI prompts follow-up questions about the use of prescription medications, illicit drugs, inhalants, and herbal products. A patient’s frequency of use is strongly correlated with the likelihood of having a SUD. Adolescents who report using a substance “once or twice” in the past year are very unlikely to have a SUD. Patients who endorse “monthly” use are more likely to meet the criteria for a mild or moderate SUD, and those reporting “weekly or more” use are more likely to have a severe SUD.

The BSTAD is an electronic, validated, high-sensitivity, high-specificity instrument for identifying SUD.¹ It asks a single frequency question about past-year use of tobacco, alcohol, and marijuana, which are the most commonly used substances among adolescents. Patients who report using any of these substances are then asked about additional substance use. Based on the patient’s self-report of past year use, the screen places him/her into 1 of 3 risk categories for SUD: no reported use, lower risk, and higher risk. Each risk level maps to suggested clinical actions that are summarized in the results section.

Kevin M. Simon, MD
Child & Adolescent Psychiatry Fellow
Boston Children’s Hospital
Clinical Fellow in Psychiatry
Harvard Medical School
Boston, Massachusetts

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

References

1. Palmer A, Karakus M, Mark T. Barriers faced by physicians in screening for substance use disorders among adolescents. Psychiatr Serv. 2019;70(5):409-412.
2. D’Souza-Li L, Harris SK. The future of screening, brief intervention and referral to treatment in adolescent primary care: research directions and dissemination challenges. Curr Opin Pediatr. 2016;28(4):434-440. 
3. Levy S, Weiss R, Sherritt L, et al. An electronic screen for triaging adolescent substance use by risk levels. JAMA Pediatr. 2014;168(9):822-828.
4. Kelly SM, Gryczynski J, Mitchell SG, et al. Validity of brief screening instrument for adolescent tobacco, alcohol, and drug use. Pediatrics. 2014;133(5):819-826.

Continue to: The author responds

The author responds

I thank Dr. Simon for his words of encouragement. I agree that both the S2BI and BSTAD have high sensitivity and specificity and are easy to use for screening for the use of multiple substances. Once substance use is established, both tools recommend administering high-risk assessment with additional scales such as the CRAFFT. During the initial evaluation, many psychiatrists take their patient’s history of substance use in detail, including age of onset, frequency, amount used, severity, and the time of his/her last use, without using a screening instrument. My article focused on instruments that can determine whether there is need for a further detailed evaluation. I agree that the S2BI and BSTAD would assist psychiatrists or physicians in other specialties (eg, pediatrics, family medicine) who might not take a complete substance use history during their initial evaluations.

Shikha Verma, MD
Rogers Behavioral Health
Kenosha, Wisconsin
Assistant Professor
Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Health
Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science
North Chicago, Illinois

Continue to: Changes as a result of COVID-19

I thank Dr. Nasrallah for his editorial “During a viral pandemic, anxiety is endemic: The psychiatric aspects of COVID-19” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry. April 2020, p. e3-e5).

I appreciated the editorial because it got me thinking about how the pandemic has changed me and my family:

1. We are engaging more in social media.

2. I feel uncomfortable when I go to the grocery store.

3. I feel better when I don’t access the news about COVID-19.

4. My children need physical socialization with their friends (sports, games, other activities, etc.).

5. My children function better with a schedule, but we find it difficult to keep them on a good schedule. Our teenagers stay up late at night (because all of their friends do), and they sleep in late the next morning.

Here are some positive changes:

1. Creating a weekly family calendar on a dry-erase board, so the family can see what is going on during the week.

2. Creating responsibility for our older children (eg, washing their own clothes, cleaning their bathroom).

3. Eating most meals as a family and organizing meals better, too.

4. Playing games together.

5. Cleaning the house together.

6. Getting outside to walk the dog and appreciate nature more.

7. Exercising.

8. Utilizing positive social media.

9. Getting caught up on life.

Again, I thank Dr. Nasrallah for writing this editorial because it led me to self-reflect on this situation, and helped me feel normal.

Doug Dolenc
Westfield, Indiana

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

Screening for adolescent substance use

I want to congratulate Dr. Verma on her article “Opioid use disorder in adolescents: An overview” (Evidence-Based Reviews, Current Psychiatry. February 2020, p. 12-14,16-21) and would like to make some contributions. Her article describes several screening tools that are available to assess adolescent substance use disorder (SUD), including the CRAFFT Interview, National Institute on Drug Abuse–modified ASSIST, Drug Use Screening Inventory (DUSI), Problem-Oriented Screening Instrument for Teenagers (POSIT), and Personal Experience Screening Questionnaire (PESQ). The ideal screening tool should be brief, easy to use, sensitive, specific to substance use and related problems, and able to guide subsequent assessment and intervention when appropriate.

Because evidence suggests there are continued barriers, such as time constraints, in evaluating for adolescent SUD,^1,2 I believe the Screen to Brief Intervention (S2BI) and Brief Screener for Tobacco, Alcohol and Drug (BSTAD) should be included.^3,4 The S2BI and BSTAD are brief screeners that assess substance use, are validated for adolescent patients, can be completed online, and can assist in identifying DSM-5 criteria for SUD.

The S2BI has demonstrated high sensitivity and specificity for identifying SUD.³ The single screening assessment for “past-year use” is quick and can be administered in a variety of clinical settings. The S2BI begins by asking a patient about his/her frequency of tobacco, alcohol, and/or marijuana use in the past year. If the patient endorses past-year use of any of these substances, the S2BI prompts follow-up questions about the use of prescription medications, illicit drugs, inhalants, and herbal products. A patient’s frequency of use is strongly correlated with the likelihood of having a SUD. Adolescents who report using a substance “once or twice” in the past year are very unlikely to have a SUD. Patients who endorse “monthly” use are more likely to meet the criteria for a mild or moderate SUD, and those reporting “weekly or more” use are more likely to have a severe SUD.

The BSTAD is an electronic, validated, high-sensitivity, high-specificity instrument for identifying SUD.¹ It asks a single frequency question about past-year use of tobacco, alcohol, and marijuana, which are the most commonly used substances among adolescents. Patients who report using any of these substances are then asked about additional substance use. Based on the patient’s self-report of past year use, the screen places him/her into 1 of 3 risk categories for SUD: no reported use, lower risk, and higher risk. Each risk level maps to suggested clinical actions that are summarized in the results section.

Kevin M. Simon, MD
Child & Adolescent Psychiatry Fellow
Boston Children’s Hospital
Clinical Fellow in Psychiatry
Harvard Medical School
Boston, Massachusetts

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

References

1. Palmer A, Karakus M, Mark T. Barriers faced by physicians in screening for substance use disorders among adolescents. Psychiatr Serv. 2019;70(5):409-412.
2. D’Souza-Li L, Harris SK. The future of screening, brief intervention and referral to treatment in adolescent primary care: research directions and dissemination challenges. Curr Opin Pediatr. 2016;28(4):434-440. 
3. Levy S, Weiss R, Sherritt L, et al. An electronic screen for triaging adolescent substance use by risk levels. JAMA Pediatr. 2014;168(9):822-828.
4. Kelly SM, Gryczynski J, Mitchell SG, et al. Validity of brief screening instrument for adolescent tobacco, alcohol, and drug use. Pediatrics. 2014;133(5):819-826.

Continue to: The author responds

The author responds

I thank Dr. Simon for his words of encouragement. I agree that both the S2BI and BSTAD have high sensitivity and specificity and are easy to use for screening for the use of multiple substances. Once substance use is established, both tools recommend administering high-risk assessment with additional scales such as the CRAFFT. During the initial evaluation, many psychiatrists take their patient’s history of substance use in detail, including age of onset, frequency, amount used, severity, and the time of his/her last use, without using a screening instrument. My article focused on instruments that can determine whether there is need for a further detailed evaluation. I agree that the S2BI and BSTAD would assist psychiatrists or physicians in other specialties (eg, pediatrics, family medicine) who might not take a complete substance use history during their initial evaluations.

Shikha Verma, MD
Rogers Behavioral Health
Kenosha, Wisconsin
Assistant Professor
Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Health
Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science
North Chicago, Illinois

Continue to: Changes as a result of COVID-19

I thank Dr. Nasrallah for his editorial “During a viral pandemic, anxiety is endemic: The psychiatric aspects of COVID-19” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry. April 2020, p. e3-e5).

I appreciated the editorial because it got me thinking about how the pandemic has changed me and my family:

1. We are engaging more in social media.

2. I feel uncomfortable when I go to the grocery store.

3. I feel better when I don’t access the news about COVID-19.

4. My children need physical socialization with their friends (sports, games, other activities, etc.).

5. My children function better with a schedule, but we find it difficult to keep them on a good schedule. Our teenagers stay up late at night (because all of their friends do), and they sleep in late the next morning.

Here are some positive changes:

1. Creating a weekly family calendar on a dry-erase board, so the family can see what is going on during the week.

2. Creating responsibility for our older children (eg, washing their own clothes, cleaning their bathroom).

3. Eating most meals as a family and organizing meals better, too.

4. Playing games together.

5. Cleaning the house together.

6. Getting outside to walk the dog and appreciate nature more.

7. Exercising.

8. Utilizing positive social media.

9. Getting caught up on life.

Again, I thank Dr. Nasrallah for writing this editorial because it led me to self-reflect on this situation, and helped me feel normal.

Doug Dolenc
Westfield, Indiana

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

Screening for adolescent substance use

I want to congratulate Dr. Verma on her article “Opioid use disorder in adolescents: An overview” (Evidence-Based Reviews, Current Psychiatry. February 2020, p. 12-14,16-21) and would like to make some contributions. Her article describes several screening tools that are available to assess adolescent substance use disorder (SUD), including the CRAFFT Interview, National Institute on Drug Abuse–modified ASSIST, Drug Use Screening Inventory (DUSI), Problem-Oriented Screening Instrument for Teenagers (POSIT), and Personal Experience Screening Questionnaire (PESQ). The ideal screening tool should be brief, easy to use, sensitive, specific to substance use and related problems, and able to guide subsequent assessment and intervention when appropriate.

Because evidence suggests there are continued barriers, such as time constraints, in evaluating for adolescent SUD,^1,2 I believe the Screen to Brief Intervention (S2BI) and Brief Screener for Tobacco, Alcohol and Drug (BSTAD) should be included.^3,4 The S2BI and BSTAD are brief screeners that assess substance use, are validated for adolescent patients, can be completed online, and can assist in identifying DSM-5 criteria for SUD.

The S2BI has demonstrated high sensitivity and specificity for identifying SUD.³ The single screening assessment for “past-year use” is quick and can be administered in a variety of clinical settings. The S2BI begins by asking a patient about his/her frequency of tobacco, alcohol, and/or marijuana use in the past year. If the patient endorses past-year use of any of these substances, the S2BI prompts follow-up questions about the use of prescription medications, illicit drugs, inhalants, and herbal products. A patient’s frequency of use is strongly correlated with the likelihood of having a SUD. Adolescents who report using a substance “once or twice” in the past year are very unlikely to have a SUD. Patients who endorse “monthly” use are more likely to meet the criteria for a mild or moderate SUD, and those reporting “weekly or more” use are more likely to have a severe SUD.

The BSTAD is an electronic, validated, high-sensitivity, high-specificity instrument for identifying SUD.¹ It asks a single frequency question about past-year use of tobacco, alcohol, and marijuana, which are the most commonly used substances among adolescents. Patients who report using any of these substances are then asked about additional substance use. Based on the patient’s self-report of past year use, the screen places him/her into 1 of 3 risk categories for SUD: no reported use, lower risk, and higher risk. Each risk level maps to suggested clinical actions that are summarized in the results section.

Kevin M. Simon, MD
Child & Adolescent Psychiatry Fellow
Boston Children’s Hospital
Clinical Fellow in Psychiatry
Harvard Medical School
Boston, Massachusetts

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

References

1. Palmer A, Karakus M, Mark T. Barriers faced by physicians in screening for substance use disorders among adolescents. Psychiatr Serv. 2019;70(5):409-412.
2. D’Souza-Li L, Harris SK. The future of screening, brief intervention and referral to treatment in adolescent primary care: research directions and dissemination challenges. Curr Opin Pediatr. 2016;28(4):434-440. 
3. Levy S, Weiss R, Sherritt L, et al. An electronic screen for triaging adolescent substance use by risk levels. JAMA Pediatr. 2014;168(9):822-828.
4. Kelly SM, Gryczynski J, Mitchell SG, et al. Validity of brief screening instrument for adolescent tobacco, alcohol, and drug use. Pediatrics. 2014;133(5):819-826.

Continue to: The author responds

The author responds

I thank Dr. Simon for his words of encouragement. I agree that both the S2BI and BSTAD have high sensitivity and specificity and are easy to use for screening for the use of multiple substances. Once substance use is established, both tools recommend administering high-risk assessment with additional scales such as the CRAFFT. During the initial evaluation, many psychiatrists take their patient’s history of substance use in detail, including age of onset, frequency, amount used, severity, and the time of his/her last use, without using a screening instrument. My article focused on instruments that can determine whether there is need for a further detailed evaluation. I agree that the S2BI and BSTAD would assist psychiatrists or physicians in other specialties (eg, pediatrics, family medicine) who might not take a complete substance use history during their initial evaluations.

Shikha Verma, MD
Rogers Behavioral Health
Kenosha, Wisconsin
Assistant Professor
Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Health
Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science
North Chicago, Illinois

Continue to: Changes as a result of COVID-19

I thank Dr. Nasrallah for his editorial “During a viral pandemic, anxiety is endemic: The psychiatric aspects of COVID-19” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry. April 2020, p. e3-e5).

I appreciated the editorial because it got me thinking about how the pandemic has changed me and my family:

1. We are engaging more in social media.

2. I feel uncomfortable when I go to the grocery store.

3. I feel better when I don’t access the news about COVID-19.

4. My children need physical socialization with their friends (sports, games, other activities, etc.).

5. My children function better with a schedule, but we find it difficult to keep them on a good schedule. Our teenagers stay up late at night (because all of their friends do), and they sleep in late the next morning.

Here are some positive changes:

1. Creating a weekly family calendar on a dry-erase board, so the family can see what is going on during the week.

2. Creating responsibility for our older children (eg, washing their own clothes, cleaning their bathroom).

3. Eating most meals as a family and organizing meals better, too.

4. Playing games together.

5. Cleaning the house together.

6. Getting outside to walk the dog and appreciate nature more.

7. Exercising.

8. Utilizing positive social media.

9. Getting caught up on life.

Again, I thank Dr. Nasrallah for writing this editorial because it led me to self-reflect on this situation, and helped me feel normal.

Doug Dolenc
Westfield, Indiana

Disclosure: The author reports no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in this article, or with manufacturers of competing products.

Several months ago, I sat with a woman just a few days after the emergent Cesarean section delivery of her first child. She cried as she told me about her entire life—childhood trauma, a pattern of difficult relationships, several miscarriages, and now, finally, a baby—delivered under circumstances so scary, all she remembered was overwhelming fear. Now, she had returned to the hospital with severe postpartum depression, layered with struggles that are common during the first days with a newborn—little sleep, loss of autonomy, guilt, and loneliness. It was hard to listen to it all, but I encouraged her to express her pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared.

Words often fail us in times of desperation. Much of my education has involved borrowing words, phrases, or ideas from my experienced attendings and mentors, applying them like a salve when I don’t know what else to say. Sitting with another person in silence is often powerful enough, but when something needs to be said, I fall back on these inherited ideas. One of the mantras I often use, and what I said to my patient that day, is about hope: “When you’re down in this depression, you feel hopeless, and you can’t see the hope. It doesn’t mean there isn’t hope; just that you can’t see it.” I’ve watched that idea take root in patients who—despite their own beliefs in the moment—do get better, thus proving the point. Another favorite phrase: “With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.” When you talk to someone on the worst day of their life, what else is there to say?

Today, my conversation with that woman seems like an eternity ago. Public discourse has been overtaken by coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19)—the journalism, reflections on the journalism, medical advice, debate about the medical advice, and the innumerable ways in which this worldwide strife has created pain: celebrations and long-awaited plans cancelled, weddings and funerals put on hold, isolation, loneliness, death, and, of course, the fear of death. Those feelings and any other permutations are valid; another phrase, “It’s OK to feel what you are feeling,” carries weight for me these days. I work in a hospital, so I add to the list the breathless fears about what’s going to happen in our local environment. The chronic uncertainty was wearing us thin even before we had begun to do here in Ohio what was already being done elsewhere: working extra shifts, intubating new patients, praying we don’t get sick ourselves.

Our work during COVID-19

Amidst this, my colleagues and I continue our work as psychiatrists, sitting with humans experiencing complex grief (a man whose wife died alone in a nursing home, because of visitor restrictions), confusion (delirium resulting from respiratory failure), and even psychosis (inability to access stabilizing medications coupled with crippling paranoia). These remain just as real and debilitating in a pandemic as they do in other times. In addition to pre-existing mental illnesses, for some individuals, the shared anxiety will progress to clinically significant disorders that may last even longer than the effects of the virus. The resulting complex symptoms could affect everything from home lives to interpersonal relationships to our local and global economies. These are not minor issues. Although often triaged aside in a disaster, our collective mental health remains in some ways more central than ever.

Modern psychiatry would not often use the word “love,” but that’s what I am trying to do—show love to the people who need it the most right now (which is all of us, really). This love takes strange shapes, and sometimes new forms, but it’s just about all I have to give. Like everyone else, I don’t have concrete answers for the grief and fear and panic. But I’m content to share the burden of pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared. And I have a few words that, however little comfort they offer in the moment, are eventually proven true: Just because you can’t see the hope doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It’s OK to feel what you are feeling. With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.

Several months ago, I sat with a woman just a few days after the emergent Cesarean section delivery of her first child. She cried as she told me about her entire life—childhood trauma, a pattern of difficult relationships, several miscarriages, and now, finally, a baby—delivered under circumstances so scary, all she remembered was overwhelming fear. Now, she had returned to the hospital with severe postpartum depression, layered with struggles that are common during the first days with a newborn—little sleep, loss of autonomy, guilt, and loneliness. It was hard to listen to it all, but I encouraged her to express her pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared.

Words often fail us in times of desperation. Much of my education has involved borrowing words, phrases, or ideas from my experienced attendings and mentors, applying them like a salve when I don’t know what else to say. Sitting with another person in silence is often powerful enough, but when something needs to be said, I fall back on these inherited ideas. One of the mantras I often use, and what I said to my patient that day, is about hope: “When you’re down in this depression, you feel hopeless, and you can’t see the hope. It doesn’t mean there isn’t hope; just that you can’t see it.” I’ve watched that idea take root in patients who—despite their own beliefs in the moment—do get better, thus proving the point. Another favorite phrase: “With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.” When you talk to someone on the worst day of their life, what else is there to say?

Today, my conversation with that woman seems like an eternity ago. Public discourse has been overtaken by coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19)—the journalism, reflections on the journalism, medical advice, debate about the medical advice, and the innumerable ways in which this worldwide strife has created pain: celebrations and long-awaited plans cancelled, weddings and funerals put on hold, isolation, loneliness, death, and, of course, the fear of death. Those feelings and any other permutations are valid; another phrase, “It’s OK to feel what you are feeling,” carries weight for me these days. I work in a hospital, so I add to the list the breathless fears about what’s going to happen in our local environment. The chronic uncertainty was wearing us thin even before we had begun to do here in Ohio what was already being done elsewhere: working extra shifts, intubating new patients, praying we don’t get sick ourselves.

Our work during COVID-19

Amidst this, my colleagues and I continue our work as psychiatrists, sitting with humans experiencing complex grief (a man whose wife died alone in a nursing home, because of visitor restrictions), confusion (delirium resulting from respiratory failure), and even psychosis (inability to access stabilizing medications coupled with crippling paranoia). These remain just as real and debilitating in a pandemic as they do in other times. In addition to pre-existing mental illnesses, for some individuals, the shared anxiety will progress to clinically significant disorders that may last even longer than the effects of the virus. The resulting complex symptoms could affect everything from home lives to interpersonal relationships to our local and global economies. These are not minor issues. Although often triaged aside in a disaster, our collective mental health remains in some ways more central than ever.

Modern psychiatry would not often use the word “love,” but that’s what I am trying to do—show love to the people who need it the most right now (which is all of us, really). This love takes strange shapes, and sometimes new forms, but it’s just about all I have to give. Like everyone else, I don’t have concrete answers for the grief and fear and panic. But I’m content to share the burden of pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared. And I have a few words that, however little comfort they offer in the moment, are eventually proven true: Just because you can’t see the hope doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It’s OK to feel what you are feeling. With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.

Several months ago, I sat with a woman just a few days after the emergent Cesarean section delivery of her first child. She cried as she told me about her entire life—childhood trauma, a pattern of difficult relationships, several miscarriages, and now, finally, a baby—delivered under circumstances so scary, all she remembered was overwhelming fear. Now, she had returned to the hospital with severe postpartum depression, layered with struggles that are common during the first days with a newborn—little sleep, loss of autonomy, guilt, and loneliness. It was hard to listen to it all, but I encouraged her to express her pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared.

Words often fail us in times of desperation. Much of my education has involved borrowing words, phrases, or ideas from my experienced attendings and mentors, applying them like a salve when I don’t know what else to say. Sitting with another person in silence is often powerful enough, but when something needs to be said, I fall back on these inherited ideas. One of the mantras I often use, and what I said to my patient that day, is about hope: “When you’re down in this depression, you feel hopeless, and you can’t see the hope. It doesn’t mean there isn’t hope; just that you can’t see it.” I’ve watched that idea take root in patients who—despite their own beliefs in the moment—do get better, thus proving the point. Another favorite phrase: “With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.” When you talk to someone on the worst day of their life, what else is there to say?

Today, my conversation with that woman seems like an eternity ago. Public discourse has been overtaken by coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19)—the journalism, reflections on the journalism, medical advice, debate about the medical advice, and the innumerable ways in which this worldwide strife has created pain: celebrations and long-awaited plans cancelled, weddings and funerals put on hold, isolation, loneliness, death, and, of course, the fear of death. Those feelings and any other permutations are valid; another phrase, “It’s OK to feel what you are feeling,” carries weight for me these days. I work in a hospital, so I add to the list the breathless fears about what’s going to happen in our local environment. The chronic uncertainty was wearing us thin even before we had begun to do here in Ohio what was already being done elsewhere: working extra shifts, intubating new patients, praying we don’t get sick ourselves.

Our work during COVID-19

Amidst this, my colleagues and I continue our work as psychiatrists, sitting with humans experiencing complex grief (a man whose wife died alone in a nursing home, because of visitor restrictions), confusion (delirium resulting from respiratory failure), and even psychosis (inability to access stabilizing medications coupled with crippling paranoia). These remain just as real and debilitating in a pandemic as they do in other times. In addition to pre-existing mental illnesses, for some individuals, the shared anxiety will progress to clinically significant disorders that may last even longer than the effects of the virus. The resulting complex symptoms could affect everything from home lives to interpersonal relationships to our local and global economies. These are not minor issues. Although often triaged aside in a disaster, our collective mental health remains in some ways more central than ever.

Modern psychiatry would not often use the word “love,” but that’s what I am trying to do—show love to the people who need it the most right now (which is all of us, really). This love takes strange shapes, and sometimes new forms, but it’s just about all I have to give. Like everyone else, I don’t have concrete answers for the grief and fear and panic. But I’m content to share the burden of pain, believing that burdens are lighter when shared. And I have a few words that, however little comfort they offer in the moment, are eventually proven true: Just because you can’t see the hope doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It’s OK to feel what you are feeling. With any luck at all, tomorrow will be better than today.

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) occurs acutely and chronically in the aftermath of severe and potentially life-threatening trauma.¹ The prevalence of PTSD varies significantly across countries and by type of trauma (Box^1-7).

Box

Individuals who develop PTSD experience a wide range of symptoms.⁸ These can be categorized as PTSD-specific symptoms, or nonspecific symptoms. PTSD-specific symptoms include nightmares, flashbacks, dissociative reactions, hyperreactivity or hyperarousal, distress with reminders of trauma, and avoidance of trauma-related physical reminders and thoughts/feelings (Table⁸). Nonspecific symptoms include depressive and anxiety symptoms and significant problems in social, relationship, or work situations.⁸

While successful treatment necessitates taking all of these symptoms into account, understanding the pathophysiology of PTSD can inform a more focused and ration­al treatment approach. In this article, we describe some key pathophysiologic PTSD studies, and focus on PTSD-specific psychopathology to inform treatment.

Brain systems implicated in PTSD

Neuropeptide Y (NPY) is an anxiolytic endogenous peptide that has connections to the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. Its levels can be modulated by stress.⁹ Preclinical and clinical studies strongly support a potential role of NPY dysfunction in the pathophysiology of PTSD. Lower concentrations of NPY increase susceptibility to PTSD in combat veterans¹⁰ and in animal models.¹¹ Three single-nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) appear to mediate this effect.¹² These findings strongly support pharmaceutical targeting this system as a useful therapeutic approach.^13,14 Indeed, intranasal NPY administered as a single dose reduces anxiety in animal models¹⁵ and in humans,¹⁶ but this work has not yet translated into clinical tools.

Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptor (CRHR1) gene. Corticotropin-releasing hormone has been implicated in PTSD.¹⁷ Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptors (CRHR) are important mediators in response to stress.^18,19 They bind corticotropin-releasing hormone and contribute to the integration of autonomic, behavioral, and immune responses to stress.²⁰ Single-nucleotide polymorphisms in the regulatory portion of the CRHR1 gene are associated with an increased risk for depression in adults who have a history of child abuse.²¹

The CRHR1 receptor antagonist GSK561679 is an investigational agent for the treatment of mood and anxiety disorders.²² In exploratory studies,^23,24 GSK561679 was found to inhibit fear-potentiated startle in patients with PTSD, but not overall PTSD symptoms, although a subset of women with a specific genetic variant of the CRHR1 gene (rs110402) experienced significant benefit.^25,26 This suggests that we must learn more about this system before we proceed.²⁷

Brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF). The synthesis of BDNF is influenced by neuronal activity in the brain and plays a role in synaptic transmission and plasticity.²⁸ Brain-derived neuro­trophic factor is encoded by the BDNF gene, which has been implicated in stress vulnerability.²⁹ A common SNP in the pro-region of the human BDNF gene results in a valine-to-methionine substitution at the 66th amino acid (Val66Met). The functional Val66Met polymorphism may have a role in the risk of developing PTSD. However, not all studies support this finding. One study found that an SNP with a resulting Val66Met polymorphism is associated with adult PTSD symptoms after childhood abuse, while a meta-analysis of 7 studies did not confirm this.^30,31 We need to learn more about BDNF before we proceed.³²

Continue to: Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene

Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene. Serotonin transporter is a monoamine transporter protein that terminates the neurotransmitter signal by transporting serotonin from the synaptic cleft back into the presynaptic neuron. It is encoded by the SLC6A4 gene, which resides on the long arm of chromosome 17(17q11.1-q12). It is a large gene with 31 kilo bases and 14 separate exons (transcribed regions).^33,34

This gene has several variants. The best-studied is a variation in the promoter region. A 44-bp insertion or deletion yields the “long” and “short” alleles, respectively. The proteins produced by the 2 alleles are identical, but the amount of expressed protein is different. The short allele (“S”) is associated with a nearly 50% reduction in 5-HTT expression in both homozygotes and heterozygotes.³⁵ A greater incidence of serotonin transporter promoter region (5-HTTLPR) S has been found in individuals with PTSD compared with those without PTSD,^36-38 and 5-HTTLPR S increases the risk of PTSD in individuals with low social support³⁹ or after very few traumatic events.⁴⁰ The short allele variant is also associated with depression in individuals who face adversity.^35,41

The overrepresentation of the short form of 5-HTTLPR in individuals who develop PTSD may represent a potential problem with current treatment paradigms, in which an antidepressant is the first-line treatment, because this allele is associated with reduced response to antidepressants.^42,43 More distressing is the possible association of this allele with increased suicide risk, particularly violent suicide⁴⁴ or repeated suicide attempts.⁴⁵

Furthermore, a functional MRI study of patients who were anxious revealed that in individuals with the short allele, administration of citalopram was associated with increased amygdala activity in response to negative stimuli, and reduced activity in response to positive stimuli.⁴⁶ This suggests that antidepressant treatment may actually worsen fear response in patients with PTSD. Clearly, additional research is needed to determine if having the SLC6A4 gene alters clinical outcomes in response to an antidepressant in a patient with PTSD. In the meantime, clinicians should use vigilance and a critical mindset when they administer antidepressants to a patient who has PTSD.

Catechol-o-methyltransferase (COMT) is one of the enzymes that degrades catecholamines such as dopamine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine (NE).⁴⁷ In humans, COMT protein is encoded by the COMT gene. This gene is associated with allelic variants; the best-studied of these is Val158Met. COMT Val158Met polymorphism (rs4860) has been linked to deficits in stress response and emotional resilience.^48,49 Val158Met is associated with a 40% reduction in enzyme activity and slower catalysis of catecholamines, resulting in increases in catecholamines levels in the brain, which may increase the risk of developing PTSD.⁵⁰ Individuals homozygous for this SNP (Met/Met) are highly susceptible to develop PTSD independently of the severity of the trauma they experienced.⁵¹ The Val158Met polymorphism may be associated with other abnormalities, such as cognitive problems with specific frontal cortical activity, and also with improved antidepressant response (valine homozygotes less responsive than methionine homozygotes).⁵² This gene is available on gene testing profiles.

Continue to: The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

Perhaps the greatest advance in the understanding of the pathophysiology of PTSD relates to changes in brain NE. The HPA axis is responsible for coordinating the hormonal response to stress. Dysregulation of this axis and increased activity of the central and peripheral noradrenergic systems are usually observed in patients with PTSD.⁵³ Several monoamine neurotransmitters are important in the regulation and function of the HPA axis. Norepinephrine plays a major role in stress.

The clinical PTSD-specific criteria are all descriptions of excessive noradrenergic tone.⁵⁴ For example, hypervigilance and hyperstartle are clearly anticipated as evidence of NE stimulation. Flashbacks, particularly those that might be precipitated by environmental cues, also can be a manifestation of the vigilance induced by NE. Sleep disturbances (insomnia and nightmares) are present; insomnia is reported more often than nightmares.⁵⁵ Increased catecholamine levels, particularly NE, are a feature of sleep disturbances associated with middle insomnia. Dreams can be remembered only if you wake up during dreaming. Catecholamines do not change the content of dreams, just recall.⁵⁶

In a study of central noradrenergic tone in patients with PTSD, 6 hourly CSF samples were collected from 11 male combat veterans with PTSD and 8 healthy controls.⁵⁷ Participants with PTSD had significantly higher CSF NE concentrations (0.55 ± 0.17 pmol/ml vs 0.39 ± 0.16 pmol/mL in the PTSD and control groups, respectively; F = 4.49, P < .05).⁵⁷ Overall PTSD symptoms correlated significantly with CSF NE levels (r = 0.82, P <.005), and PTSD-specific symptoms such as avoidance (r = 0.79, P = .004). Intrusive thoughts (r = 0.57, P = .07) and hyperarousal (r = 0.54, P = .09) were also related.⁵⁷ This relationship is unique; patients with PTSD with predominant depressive symptoms do not have elevated plasma NE levels.⁵⁸

In the human brain, there are 3 main groups of NE receptors: alpha-1 receptors, alpha-2 receptors, and beta receptors.⁵⁹ Alpha-1 receptors (alpha-1A, alpha-1B, and alpha-1D) are postsynaptic and mediate increase in inositol trisphosphate (IP₃) and intracellular calcium (Ca²⁺). Alpha-2 receptors (alpha-2A, alpha-2B, alpha-2C) in the CNS are presynaptic autoreceptors and serve to reduce NE release. Beta receptors (beta-1, beta-2, beta-3) inhibit cyclic adenosine monophosphate (cAMP) production.⁵⁹ The effects of inhibition of alpha or beta receptors are different. Inhibition of beta receptors is associated with depressive symptoms and depressive syndrome, inhibition of peripheral beta receptors is associated with reductions in anxiety (generally reduction of pulse, sweating, tremor),⁶⁰ and inhibition of central alpha-1 receptors is associated with reduced PTSD symptoms.⁶¹

Choice of agents for PTSD-specific symptoms

As outlined in the Table,⁸ PTSD is characterized by 3 types of symptoms that are specific for PTSD. Trauma-focused psychotherapy^62,63 and selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)⁶⁴ are considered first-line therapy for PTSD. Only sertraline and paroxetine are FDA-approved for treating PTSD. However, the effect size for SSRIs is quite small; improvement is only 23% to 30% greater than placebo.^64,65 Furthermore, studies have shown that these medications have little effect on insomnia, hyperarousal, or other PTSD-specific symptoms.^66,67 Studies examining military veterans with PTSD have found that these patients tend to have little or no response to antidepressants.^68,69

Continue to: Serotonin transporter promoter...

Serotonin transporter promoter region gene short-type variants, which possibly increase an individual’s predisposition to developing PTSD, may explain the abundance of depressive symptoms in this condition and the subdued response to antidepressants. Specifically, an anticipated preponderance of these alleles may be associated with poorer outcomes. Non-SSRI treatments, such as low-dose aripiprazole, may be alternatives,⁷⁰ but these approaches have not been adequately developed.

On the other hand, animal models support antagonism of the postsynaptic alpha-1 adrenergic receptor of the CNS as a target for PTSD treatment.⁷¹ Although prazosin is not currently FDA-approved for treating PTSD, in placebo-controlled studies, nightmares and PTSD total symptoms improved with prazosin, and evidence suggests that it should be used 2 or 3 times a day for all PTSD symptoms.⁶¹ Prazosin may be helpful for treating sleep problems commonly experienced by people with PTSD. Blockade of histamine will also improve sleep disturbance and reduce nightmares, but it may not be as effective as prazosin.⁷²

Quetiapine might be another non-SSRI option for treating patients with PTSD. It is an antagonist with high affinity tothehistamine-1 receptor at low doses. Norquetiapine is an alpha-2 antagonist that increases brain NE levels. Both quetiapine and norquetiapine are alpha-1 antagonists. There is no beta blockade and no SSRI effect, but some 5HT2A blockade, which may be anxiolytic. Compared with placebo, an average quetiapine dose of 258 mg/d resulted in significantly greater reductions in Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale total score, re-experiencing score, and hyperarousal score.⁷³

Unfortunately, none of the non-SSRI options have been adequately evaluated. For now, clinicians need to continue to use SSRIs, and researchers need to continue to explore mechanism-guided alternatives.

Bottom Line

Understanding the mechanisms of the pathophysiology of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may allow clinicians to “jump ahead” of clinical studies and FDA indications. Clinicians may reasonably use alpha-1 antagonists (eg, prazosin, quetiapine) for general clinical improvement of patients with PTSD, particularly for PTSD-specific symptoms. Using antihistamines to reduce anxiety (especially in patients who have the COMT Val158Met polymorphism) may also be reasonable.

Related Resources

• North CS, Hong BA, Downs DL. PTSD: a systematic approach to diagnosis and treatment. Current Psychiatry. 2018;17(4):35-43.
• Zhang Y, Ren R, Sanford LD, et al. The effects of prazosin on sleep disturbances in post-traumatic stress disorder: a systematic review and meta-analysis. Sleep Med. 2019; 67:225-231.

Drug Brand Names

Aripiprazole • Abilify
Citalopram • Celexa
Paroxetine • Paxil
Prazosin • Minipress
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Sertraline • Zoloft

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) occurs acutely and chronically in the aftermath of severe and potentially life-threatening trauma.¹ The prevalence of PTSD varies significantly across countries and by type of trauma (Box^1-7).

Box

Individuals who develop PTSD experience a wide range of symptoms.⁸ These can be categorized as PTSD-specific symptoms, or nonspecific symptoms. PTSD-specific symptoms include nightmares, flashbacks, dissociative reactions, hyperreactivity or hyperarousal, distress with reminders of trauma, and avoidance of trauma-related physical reminders and thoughts/feelings (Table⁸). Nonspecific symptoms include depressive and anxiety symptoms and significant problems in social, relationship, or work situations.⁸

While successful treatment necessitates taking all of these symptoms into account, understanding the pathophysiology of PTSD can inform a more focused and ration­al treatment approach. In this article, we describe some key pathophysiologic PTSD studies, and focus on PTSD-specific psychopathology to inform treatment.

Brain systems implicated in PTSD

Neuropeptide Y (NPY) is an anxiolytic endogenous peptide that has connections to the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. Its levels can be modulated by stress.⁹ Preclinical and clinical studies strongly support a potential role of NPY dysfunction in the pathophysiology of PTSD. Lower concentrations of NPY increase susceptibility to PTSD in combat veterans¹⁰ and in animal models.¹¹ Three single-nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) appear to mediate this effect.¹² These findings strongly support pharmaceutical targeting this system as a useful therapeutic approach.^13,14 Indeed, intranasal NPY administered as a single dose reduces anxiety in animal models¹⁵ and in humans,¹⁶ but this work has not yet translated into clinical tools.

Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptor (CRHR1) gene. Corticotropin-releasing hormone has been implicated in PTSD.¹⁷ Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptors (CRHR) are important mediators in response to stress.^18,19 They bind corticotropin-releasing hormone and contribute to the integration of autonomic, behavioral, and immune responses to stress.²⁰ Single-nucleotide polymorphisms in the regulatory portion of the CRHR1 gene are associated with an increased risk for depression in adults who have a history of child abuse.²¹

The CRHR1 receptor antagonist GSK561679 is an investigational agent for the treatment of mood and anxiety disorders.²² In exploratory studies,^23,24 GSK561679 was found to inhibit fear-potentiated startle in patients with PTSD, but not overall PTSD symptoms, although a subset of women with a specific genetic variant of the CRHR1 gene (rs110402) experienced significant benefit.^25,26 This suggests that we must learn more about this system before we proceed.²⁷

Brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF). The synthesis of BDNF is influenced by neuronal activity in the brain and plays a role in synaptic transmission and plasticity.²⁸ Brain-derived neuro­trophic factor is encoded by the BDNF gene, which has been implicated in stress vulnerability.²⁹ A common SNP in the pro-region of the human BDNF gene results in a valine-to-methionine substitution at the 66th amino acid (Val66Met). The functional Val66Met polymorphism may have a role in the risk of developing PTSD. However, not all studies support this finding. One study found that an SNP with a resulting Val66Met polymorphism is associated with adult PTSD symptoms after childhood abuse, while a meta-analysis of 7 studies did not confirm this.^30,31 We need to learn more about BDNF before we proceed.³²

Continue to: Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene

Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene. Serotonin transporter is a monoamine transporter protein that terminates the neurotransmitter signal by transporting serotonin from the synaptic cleft back into the presynaptic neuron. It is encoded by the SLC6A4 gene, which resides on the long arm of chromosome 17(17q11.1-q12). It is a large gene with 31 kilo bases and 14 separate exons (transcribed regions).^33,34

This gene has several variants. The best-studied is a variation in the promoter region. A 44-bp insertion or deletion yields the “long” and “short” alleles, respectively. The proteins produced by the 2 alleles are identical, but the amount of expressed protein is different. The short allele (“S”) is associated with a nearly 50% reduction in 5-HTT expression in both homozygotes and heterozygotes.³⁵ A greater incidence of serotonin transporter promoter region (5-HTTLPR) S has been found in individuals with PTSD compared with those without PTSD,^36-38 and 5-HTTLPR S increases the risk of PTSD in individuals with low social support³⁹ or after very few traumatic events.⁴⁰ The short allele variant is also associated with depression in individuals who face adversity.^35,41

The overrepresentation of the short form of 5-HTTLPR in individuals who develop PTSD may represent a potential problem with current treatment paradigms, in which an antidepressant is the first-line treatment, because this allele is associated with reduced response to antidepressants.^42,43 More distressing is the possible association of this allele with increased suicide risk, particularly violent suicide⁴⁴ or repeated suicide attempts.⁴⁵

Furthermore, a functional MRI study of patients who were anxious revealed that in individuals with the short allele, administration of citalopram was associated with increased amygdala activity in response to negative stimuli, and reduced activity in response to positive stimuli.⁴⁶ This suggests that antidepressant treatment may actually worsen fear response in patients with PTSD. Clearly, additional research is needed to determine if having the SLC6A4 gene alters clinical outcomes in response to an antidepressant in a patient with PTSD. In the meantime, clinicians should use vigilance and a critical mindset when they administer antidepressants to a patient who has PTSD.

Catechol-o-methyltransferase (COMT) is one of the enzymes that degrades catecholamines such as dopamine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine (NE).⁴⁷ In humans, COMT protein is encoded by the COMT gene. This gene is associated with allelic variants; the best-studied of these is Val158Met. COMT Val158Met polymorphism (rs4860) has been linked to deficits in stress response and emotional resilience.^48,49 Val158Met is associated with a 40% reduction in enzyme activity and slower catalysis of catecholamines, resulting in increases in catecholamines levels in the brain, which may increase the risk of developing PTSD.⁵⁰ Individuals homozygous for this SNP (Met/Met) are highly susceptible to develop PTSD independently of the severity of the trauma they experienced.⁵¹ The Val158Met polymorphism may be associated with other abnormalities, such as cognitive problems with specific frontal cortical activity, and also with improved antidepressant response (valine homozygotes less responsive than methionine homozygotes).⁵² This gene is available on gene testing profiles.

Continue to: The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

Perhaps the greatest advance in the understanding of the pathophysiology of PTSD relates to changes in brain NE. The HPA axis is responsible for coordinating the hormonal response to stress. Dysregulation of this axis and increased activity of the central and peripheral noradrenergic systems are usually observed in patients with PTSD.⁵³ Several monoamine neurotransmitters are important in the regulation and function of the HPA axis. Norepinephrine plays a major role in stress.

The clinical PTSD-specific criteria are all descriptions of excessive noradrenergic tone.⁵⁴ For example, hypervigilance and hyperstartle are clearly anticipated as evidence of NE stimulation. Flashbacks, particularly those that might be precipitated by environmental cues, also can be a manifestation of the vigilance induced by NE. Sleep disturbances (insomnia and nightmares) are present; insomnia is reported more often than nightmares.⁵⁵ Increased catecholamine levels, particularly NE, are a feature of sleep disturbances associated with middle insomnia. Dreams can be remembered only if you wake up during dreaming. Catecholamines do not change the content of dreams, just recall.⁵⁶

In a study of central noradrenergic tone in patients with PTSD, 6 hourly CSF samples were collected from 11 male combat veterans with PTSD and 8 healthy controls.⁵⁷ Participants with PTSD had significantly higher CSF NE concentrations (0.55 ± 0.17 pmol/ml vs 0.39 ± 0.16 pmol/mL in the PTSD and control groups, respectively; F = 4.49, P < .05).⁵⁷ Overall PTSD symptoms correlated significantly with CSF NE levels (r = 0.82, P <.005), and PTSD-specific symptoms such as avoidance (r = 0.79, P = .004). Intrusive thoughts (r = 0.57, P = .07) and hyperarousal (r = 0.54, P = .09) were also related.⁵⁷ This relationship is unique; patients with PTSD with predominant depressive symptoms do not have elevated plasma NE levels.⁵⁸

In the human brain, there are 3 main groups of NE receptors: alpha-1 receptors, alpha-2 receptors, and beta receptors.⁵⁹ Alpha-1 receptors (alpha-1A, alpha-1B, and alpha-1D) are postsynaptic and mediate increase in inositol trisphosphate (IP₃) and intracellular calcium (Ca²⁺). Alpha-2 receptors (alpha-2A, alpha-2B, alpha-2C) in the CNS are presynaptic autoreceptors and serve to reduce NE release. Beta receptors (beta-1, beta-2, beta-3) inhibit cyclic adenosine monophosphate (cAMP) production.⁵⁹ The effects of inhibition of alpha or beta receptors are different. Inhibition of beta receptors is associated with depressive symptoms and depressive syndrome, inhibition of peripheral beta receptors is associated with reductions in anxiety (generally reduction of pulse, sweating, tremor),⁶⁰ and inhibition of central alpha-1 receptors is associated with reduced PTSD symptoms.⁶¹

Choice of agents for PTSD-specific symptoms

As outlined in the Table,⁸ PTSD is characterized by 3 types of symptoms that are specific for PTSD. Trauma-focused psychotherapy^62,63 and selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)⁶⁴ are considered first-line therapy for PTSD. Only sertraline and paroxetine are FDA-approved for treating PTSD. However, the effect size for SSRIs is quite small; improvement is only 23% to 30% greater than placebo.^64,65 Furthermore, studies have shown that these medications have little effect on insomnia, hyperarousal, or other PTSD-specific symptoms.^66,67 Studies examining military veterans with PTSD have found that these patients tend to have little or no response to antidepressants.^68,69

Continue to: Serotonin transporter promoter...

Serotonin transporter promoter region gene short-type variants, which possibly increase an individual’s predisposition to developing PTSD, may explain the abundance of depressive symptoms in this condition and the subdued response to antidepressants. Specifically, an anticipated preponderance of these alleles may be associated with poorer outcomes. Non-SSRI treatments, such as low-dose aripiprazole, may be alternatives,⁷⁰ but these approaches have not been adequately developed.

On the other hand, animal models support antagonism of the postsynaptic alpha-1 adrenergic receptor of the CNS as a target for PTSD treatment.⁷¹ Although prazosin is not currently FDA-approved for treating PTSD, in placebo-controlled studies, nightmares and PTSD total symptoms improved with prazosin, and evidence suggests that it should be used 2 or 3 times a day for all PTSD symptoms.⁶¹ Prazosin may be helpful for treating sleep problems commonly experienced by people with PTSD. Blockade of histamine will also improve sleep disturbance and reduce nightmares, but it may not be as effective as prazosin.⁷²

Quetiapine might be another non-SSRI option for treating patients with PTSD. It is an antagonist with high affinity tothehistamine-1 receptor at low doses. Norquetiapine is an alpha-2 antagonist that increases brain NE levels. Both quetiapine and norquetiapine are alpha-1 antagonists. There is no beta blockade and no SSRI effect, but some 5HT2A blockade, which may be anxiolytic. Compared with placebo, an average quetiapine dose of 258 mg/d resulted in significantly greater reductions in Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale total score, re-experiencing score, and hyperarousal score.⁷³

Unfortunately, none of the non-SSRI options have been adequately evaluated. For now, clinicians need to continue to use SSRIs, and researchers need to continue to explore mechanism-guided alternatives.

Bottom Line

Understanding the mechanisms of the pathophysiology of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may allow clinicians to “jump ahead” of clinical studies and FDA indications. Clinicians may reasonably use alpha-1 antagonists (eg, prazosin, quetiapine) for general clinical improvement of patients with PTSD, particularly for PTSD-specific symptoms. Using antihistamines to reduce anxiety (especially in patients who have the COMT Val158Met polymorphism) may also be reasonable.

Related Resources

• North CS, Hong BA, Downs DL. PTSD: a systematic approach to diagnosis and treatment. Current Psychiatry. 2018;17(4):35-43.
• Zhang Y, Ren R, Sanford LD, et al. The effects of prazosin on sleep disturbances in post-traumatic stress disorder: a systematic review and meta-analysis. Sleep Med. 2019; 67:225-231.

Drug Brand Names

Aripiprazole • Abilify
Citalopram • Celexa
Paroxetine • Paxil
Prazosin • Minipress
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Sertraline • Zoloft

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) occurs acutely and chronically in the aftermath of severe and potentially life-threatening trauma.¹ The prevalence of PTSD varies significantly across countries and by type of trauma (Box^1-7).

Box

Individuals who develop PTSD experience a wide range of symptoms.⁸ These can be categorized as PTSD-specific symptoms, or nonspecific symptoms. PTSD-specific symptoms include nightmares, flashbacks, dissociative reactions, hyperreactivity or hyperarousal, distress with reminders of trauma, and avoidance of trauma-related physical reminders and thoughts/feelings (Table⁸). Nonspecific symptoms include depressive and anxiety symptoms and significant problems in social, relationship, or work situations.⁸

While successful treatment necessitates taking all of these symptoms into account, understanding the pathophysiology of PTSD can inform a more focused and ration­al treatment approach. In this article, we describe some key pathophysiologic PTSD studies, and focus on PTSD-specific psychopathology to inform treatment.

Brain systems implicated in PTSD

Neuropeptide Y (NPY) is an anxiolytic endogenous peptide that has connections to the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. Its levels can be modulated by stress.⁹ Preclinical and clinical studies strongly support a potential role of NPY dysfunction in the pathophysiology of PTSD. Lower concentrations of NPY increase susceptibility to PTSD in combat veterans¹⁰ and in animal models.¹¹ Three single-nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) appear to mediate this effect.¹² These findings strongly support pharmaceutical targeting this system as a useful therapeutic approach.^13,14 Indeed, intranasal NPY administered as a single dose reduces anxiety in animal models¹⁵ and in humans,¹⁶ but this work has not yet translated into clinical tools.

Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptor (CRHR1) gene. Corticotropin-releasing hormone has been implicated in PTSD.¹⁷ Corticotropin-releasing hormone receptors (CRHR) are important mediators in response to stress.^18,19 They bind corticotropin-releasing hormone and contribute to the integration of autonomic, behavioral, and immune responses to stress.²⁰ Single-nucleotide polymorphisms in the regulatory portion of the CRHR1 gene are associated with an increased risk for depression in adults who have a history of child abuse.²¹

The CRHR1 receptor antagonist GSK561679 is an investigational agent for the treatment of mood and anxiety disorders.²² In exploratory studies,^23,24 GSK561679 was found to inhibit fear-potentiated startle in patients with PTSD, but not overall PTSD symptoms, although a subset of women with a specific genetic variant of the CRHR1 gene (rs110402) experienced significant benefit.^25,26 This suggests that we must learn more about this system before we proceed.²⁷

Brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF). The synthesis of BDNF is influenced by neuronal activity in the brain and plays a role in synaptic transmission and plasticity.²⁸ Brain-derived neuro­trophic factor is encoded by the BDNF gene, which has been implicated in stress vulnerability.²⁹ A common SNP in the pro-region of the human BDNF gene results in a valine-to-methionine substitution at the 66th amino acid (Val66Met). The functional Val66Met polymorphism may have a role in the risk of developing PTSD. However, not all studies support this finding. One study found that an SNP with a resulting Val66Met polymorphism is associated with adult PTSD symptoms after childhood abuse, while a meta-analysis of 7 studies did not confirm this.^30,31 We need to learn more about BDNF before we proceed.³²

Continue to: Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene

Serotonin transporter (5-HTT) gene. Serotonin transporter is a monoamine transporter protein that terminates the neurotransmitter signal by transporting serotonin from the synaptic cleft back into the presynaptic neuron. It is encoded by the SLC6A4 gene, which resides on the long arm of chromosome 17(17q11.1-q12). It is a large gene with 31 kilo bases and 14 separate exons (transcribed regions).^33,34

This gene has several variants. The best-studied is a variation in the promoter region. A 44-bp insertion or deletion yields the “long” and “short” alleles, respectively. The proteins produced by the 2 alleles are identical, but the amount of expressed protein is different. The short allele (“S”) is associated with a nearly 50% reduction in 5-HTT expression in both homozygotes and heterozygotes.³⁵ A greater incidence of serotonin transporter promoter region (5-HTTLPR) S has been found in individuals with PTSD compared with those without PTSD,^36-38 and 5-HTTLPR S increases the risk of PTSD in individuals with low social support³⁹ or after very few traumatic events.⁴⁰ The short allele variant is also associated with depression in individuals who face adversity.^35,41

The overrepresentation of the short form of 5-HTTLPR in individuals who develop PTSD may represent a potential problem with current treatment paradigms, in which an antidepressant is the first-line treatment, because this allele is associated with reduced response to antidepressants.^42,43 More distressing is the possible association of this allele with increased suicide risk, particularly violent suicide⁴⁴ or repeated suicide attempts.⁴⁵

Furthermore, a functional MRI study of patients who were anxious revealed that in individuals with the short allele, administration of citalopram was associated with increased amygdala activity in response to negative stimuli, and reduced activity in response to positive stimuli.⁴⁶ This suggests that antidepressant treatment may actually worsen fear response in patients with PTSD. Clearly, additional research is needed to determine if having the SLC6A4 gene alters clinical outcomes in response to an antidepressant in a patient with PTSD. In the meantime, clinicians should use vigilance and a critical mindset when they administer antidepressants to a patient who has PTSD.

Catechol-o-methyltransferase (COMT) is one of the enzymes that degrades catecholamines such as dopamine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine (NE).⁴⁷ In humans, COMT protein is encoded by the COMT gene. This gene is associated with allelic variants; the best-studied of these is Val158Met. COMT Val158Met polymorphism (rs4860) has been linked to deficits in stress response and emotional resilience.^48,49 Val158Met is associated with a 40% reduction in enzyme activity and slower catalysis of catecholamines, resulting in increases in catecholamines levels in the brain, which may increase the risk of developing PTSD.⁵⁰ Individuals homozygous for this SNP (Met/Met) are highly susceptible to develop PTSD independently of the severity of the trauma they experienced.⁵¹ The Val158Met polymorphism may be associated with other abnormalities, such as cognitive problems with specific frontal cortical activity, and also with improved antidepressant response (valine homozygotes less responsive than methionine homozygotes).⁵² This gene is available on gene testing profiles.

Continue to: The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

The role of norepinephrine in PTSD

Perhaps the greatest advance in the understanding of the pathophysiology of PTSD relates to changes in brain NE. The HPA axis is responsible for coordinating the hormonal response to stress. Dysregulation of this axis and increased activity of the central and peripheral noradrenergic systems are usually observed in patients with PTSD.⁵³ Several monoamine neurotransmitters are important in the regulation and function of the HPA axis. Norepinephrine plays a major role in stress.

The clinical PTSD-specific criteria are all descriptions of excessive noradrenergic tone.⁵⁴ For example, hypervigilance and hyperstartle are clearly anticipated as evidence of NE stimulation. Flashbacks, particularly those that might be precipitated by environmental cues, also can be a manifestation of the vigilance induced by NE. Sleep disturbances (insomnia and nightmares) are present; insomnia is reported more often than nightmares.⁵⁵ Increased catecholamine levels, particularly NE, are a feature of sleep disturbances associated with middle insomnia. Dreams can be remembered only if you wake up during dreaming. Catecholamines do not change the content of dreams, just recall.⁵⁶

In a study of central noradrenergic tone in patients with PTSD, 6 hourly CSF samples were collected from 11 male combat veterans with PTSD and 8 healthy controls.⁵⁷ Participants with PTSD had significantly higher CSF NE concentrations (0.55 ± 0.17 pmol/ml vs 0.39 ± 0.16 pmol/mL in the PTSD and control groups, respectively; F = 4.49, P < .05).⁵⁷ Overall PTSD symptoms correlated significantly with CSF NE levels (r = 0.82, P <.005), and PTSD-specific symptoms such as avoidance (r = 0.79, P = .004). Intrusive thoughts (r = 0.57, P = .07) and hyperarousal (r = 0.54, P = .09) were also related.⁵⁷ This relationship is unique; patients with PTSD with predominant depressive symptoms do not have elevated plasma NE levels.⁵⁸

In the human brain, there are 3 main groups of NE receptors: alpha-1 receptors, alpha-2 receptors, and beta receptors.⁵⁹ Alpha-1 receptors (alpha-1A, alpha-1B, and alpha-1D) are postsynaptic and mediate increase in inositol trisphosphate (IP₃) and intracellular calcium (Ca²⁺). Alpha-2 receptors (alpha-2A, alpha-2B, alpha-2C) in the CNS are presynaptic autoreceptors and serve to reduce NE release. Beta receptors (beta-1, beta-2, beta-3) inhibit cyclic adenosine monophosphate (cAMP) production.⁵⁹ The effects of inhibition of alpha or beta receptors are different. Inhibition of beta receptors is associated with depressive symptoms and depressive syndrome, inhibition of peripheral beta receptors is associated with reductions in anxiety (generally reduction of pulse, sweating, tremor),⁶⁰ and inhibition of central alpha-1 receptors is associated with reduced PTSD symptoms.⁶¹

Choice of agents for PTSD-specific symptoms

As outlined in the Table,⁸ PTSD is characterized by 3 types of symptoms that are specific for PTSD. Trauma-focused psychotherapy^62,63 and selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)⁶⁴ are considered first-line therapy for PTSD. Only sertraline and paroxetine are FDA-approved for treating PTSD. However, the effect size for SSRIs is quite small; improvement is only 23% to 30% greater than placebo.^64,65 Furthermore, studies have shown that these medications have little effect on insomnia, hyperarousal, or other PTSD-specific symptoms.^66,67 Studies examining military veterans with PTSD have found that these patients tend to have little or no response to antidepressants.^68,69

Continue to: Serotonin transporter promoter...

Serotonin transporter promoter region gene short-type variants, which possibly increase an individual’s predisposition to developing PTSD, may explain the abundance of depressive symptoms in this condition and the subdued response to antidepressants. Specifically, an anticipated preponderance of these alleles may be associated with poorer outcomes. Non-SSRI treatments, such as low-dose aripiprazole, may be alternatives,⁷⁰ but these approaches have not been adequately developed.

On the other hand, animal models support antagonism of the postsynaptic alpha-1 adrenergic receptor of the CNS as a target for PTSD treatment.⁷¹ Although prazosin is not currently FDA-approved for treating PTSD, in placebo-controlled studies, nightmares and PTSD total symptoms improved with prazosin, and evidence suggests that it should be used 2 or 3 times a day for all PTSD symptoms.⁶¹ Prazosin may be helpful for treating sleep problems commonly experienced by people with PTSD. Blockade of histamine will also improve sleep disturbance and reduce nightmares, but it may not be as effective as prazosin.⁷²

Quetiapine might be another non-SSRI option for treating patients with PTSD. It is an antagonist with high affinity tothehistamine-1 receptor at low doses. Norquetiapine is an alpha-2 antagonist that increases brain NE levels. Both quetiapine and norquetiapine are alpha-1 antagonists. There is no beta blockade and no SSRI effect, but some 5HT2A blockade, which may be anxiolytic. Compared with placebo, an average quetiapine dose of 258 mg/d resulted in significantly greater reductions in Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale total score, re-experiencing score, and hyperarousal score.⁷³

Unfortunately, none of the non-SSRI options have been adequately evaluated. For now, clinicians need to continue to use SSRIs, and researchers need to continue to explore mechanism-guided alternatives.

Bottom Line

Understanding the mechanisms of the pathophysiology of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may allow clinicians to “jump ahead” of clinical studies and FDA indications. Clinicians may reasonably use alpha-1 antagonists (eg, prazosin, quetiapine) for general clinical improvement of patients with PTSD, particularly for PTSD-specific symptoms. Using antihistamines to reduce anxiety (especially in patients who have the COMT Val158Met polymorphism) may also be reasonable.

Related Resources

• North CS, Hong BA, Downs DL. PTSD: a systematic approach to diagnosis and treatment. Current Psychiatry. 2018;17(4):35-43.
• Zhang Y, Ren R, Sanford LD, et al. The effects of prazosin on sleep disturbances in post-traumatic stress disorder: a systematic review and meta-analysis. Sleep Med. 2019; 67:225-231.

Drug Brand Names

Aripiprazole • Abilify
Citalopram • Celexa
Paroxetine • Paxil
Prazosin • Minipress
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Sertraline • Zoloft

CASE Aggressive, impulsive, and not sleeping

Mr. S, age 22, is brought by his family to his outpatient psychiatrist because he has begun to exhibit motor and verbal tics, excessive adherence to rules and routines, and increased impulsivity and agitation.

Mr. S has significant language impairment and is unreliable as a narrator. His family reports that Mr. S’s behavior has resulted in declining academic performance, and they have curtailed his social activities due to behavioral issues. Both his family and teachers report that it is increasingly difficult to redirect Mr. S’s behavior. Although not physically aggressive, Mr. S becomes verbally agitated when rituals are incomplete. He has gone from sleeping 8 hours each night to only 3 to 4 hours, but he does not appear tired during the day.

HISTORY Multiple hospitalizations

As a child, Mr. S had been diagnosed with autism and intellectual disability. When he was 13, he began exhibiting marked stereotypy, restlessness, impulsivity, frenzy, agitation, combativeness, and purposeless motor activity. At that time, he was not receiving any medications. Mr. S had not slept for 2 days and had been walking in circles nonstop. He became aggressive whenever anyone attempted to redirect his behavior. The family took Mr. S to the emergency department (ED), where clinicians ruled out organic causes for his behavioral disturbances, including infections, drug intoxication, and use of illicit substances. Mr. S was transferred from the ED to a child and adolescent psychiatry ward at a nearby university hospital for inpatient treatment.

On the inpatient unit, the treatment team diagnosed Mr. S with bipolar disorder and believed that he was experiencing a manic episode. He was prescribed quetiapine, 25 mg by mouth during the day and 75 mg by mouth at night, to stabilize his agitation, and was discharged with a plan to follow up with his outpatient psychiatrist. However, within 1 week, his symptoms returned, with markedly increased aggression and agitation, so he was readmitted, tapered off quetiapine, and prescribed valproic acid, 125 mg by mouth during the day and 375 mg by mouth at bedtime. With this regimen, Mr. S became calmer, but when he was discharged home, he was subdued and withdrawn, overly adherent to rules and routines, constantly irritable, and often unable to focus.

Two years later, Mr. S developed hyperammonemia. Valproic acid was discontinued, and many of his behavioral issues resolved. He flourished both academically and socially. He experienced no exacerbation of symptoms until his current presentation.

[polldaddy:10544547]

EVALUATION Pinpointing the cause

Mr. S’s physical examination reveals that his vital signs are within normal limits. Mr. S is mildly tachycardic (heart rate, 105 bpm), with regular rate and rhythm. No murmurs, gallops, or rubs are auscultated. The remainder of the physical exam, including a detailed neurologic exam, is normal.

On mental status examination, Mr. S makes limited eye contact. He has difficulty sitting in the chair, with increased rocking, finger flicking, and hand flapping from baseline. Some compulsive behaviors are noted, such as tapping his neck. He has increased tics (eye blinking and mouth opening) and increased verbigeration and repetitive verbal statements. He loudly and repeatedly demands to go home, and uses short sentences with incorrect pronouns. His affect is difficult to assess, but he is agitated. His thought process is concrete. There is no evidence of suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, or psychosis. Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations. His insight and judgment are limited.

Continue to: The psychiatrist rules out...

The psychiatrist rules out a behavioral exacerbation of autism based on an interview with Mr. S’s family and established rapport from treating him for several years. Mr. S’s family reports that many of his behaviors are not new but that the increased drive and intensity is worrisome. Further, his family cannot identify any stressors or precipitants for the behaviors and reports that offering preferred reinforcers did not help. An anxiety disorder is ruled out because according to the family, Mr. S’s drive to constantly move and complete rituals is fueling his anxiety. Schizoaffective disorder is ruled out because Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations and has not been observed responding to internal stimuli.

His Bush-Francis Catatonia Rating Scale (BFCRS) score is 26, which suggests a high likelihood of catatonia. Based on the BFCRS score, Mr. S’s psychiatrist makes the diagnosis of hyperkinetic catatonia.

The authors’ observations

The psychiatrist determined that Mr. S had been misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 13. At that time, he had experienced his first episode of hyperkinetic catatonia and his symptoms decreased after he received lorazepam in the ED. However, the treatment team did not correctly identify this, most likely due to limited knowledge of catatonia among emergency medicine clinicians.

This case exemplifies a cognitive error of premature closure. Rather than considering catatonia as a complication of autism when Mr. S was 13, the clinicians added a second psychiatric diagnosis of bipolar disorder.Although premature closure errors generally occur when the physician assumes the patient is having a common complication of a known illness,¹ in Mr. S’s case, the opposite occurred.

Conceptualizing catatonia

One helpful model for conceptualizing catatonia is to think of it as a basal ganglia disorder, with lesions in the basal ganglia thalamocortical tracts and the anterior cingulate/medial orbitofrontal circuit. Disrupting these pathways can result in symptoms such as mutism or repetitive and imitative behaviors. This is likely due to decreased disinhibition by gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), resulting in a hypodopaminergic state. This explains why benzodiazepines, which act to increase GABA, are effective for treating catatonia, and antipsychotics that act to decrease dopamine can exacerbate symptoms. Fricchione et al² developed a model to visually represent the neurobiologic pathophysiology of catatonia (Figure²).

Continue to: Underlying causes of catatonia

Catatonia is most often seen in individuals with an underlying psychiatric condition such as schizophrenia, mood disorders, or autism. However, catatonia also occurs in the context of general neurologic and medical disorders, including (but not limited to) infections, metabolic disorders, endocrinopathies, epilepsy, neurodegenerative diseases, delirium, hypertensive encephalopathy, autoimmune encephalitis, and liver and kidney transplantation.³

Subtypes of catatonia include⁴:

• hypokinetic catatonia, which presents as stupor, mutism, and negativism
• hyperkinetic catatonia, which presents as hyperactivity, agitation, and stereotypy (as observed in Mr. S)
• malignant catatonia, which is a potentially lethal form of catatonia that occurs when hypo- or hyperkinetic catatonia is accompanied by autonomic instability such as tachycardia, tachypnea, hypertension, fever, and muscle rigidity
• periodic catatonia, which is characterized by brief episodes of stupor or excitatory catatonia lasting 4 to 10 days. These episodes recur over weeks to years, with patients remaining asymptomatic between episodes, or showing mild symptoms, such as facial grimacing or negativisms. Periodic catatonia often is autosomal dominant, involves linkage for the long arm of chromosome 15, and has a better prognosis than the other forms.

Autism and catatonia

Most individuals with autism who experience a catatonic episode first do so between age 10 and 19, and many episodes are precipitated by sudden changes in routine resulting in stress.⁵ An estimated 12% to 18% of patients with autism are diagnosed with catatonia in their lifetime, but the actual prevalence is likely higher.⁴

One of the reasons for this might be that although catatonia is well known in the psychiatric community, it is relatively unknown in the general medical community. Children and adolescents with psychiatric illness are likely to have symptoms of catatonia overlooked because catatonia often is not included in the differential diagnosis.⁶

In Mr. S’s case, it became clear that he did not have a mood disorder, but was prone to episodes of hyperkinetic catatonia due to his autism.

Continue to: Better recognition of catatonia

As catatonia becomes better elucidated and more clearly described in the literature, there is increasing awareness that symptoms do not always involve stupor, mutism, and slowed motor activity, but can include increased motor activity, agitation, and stereotypies. The BFCRS is extremely useful for quantifying symptoms of catatonia. The best way to confirm the diagnosis is to use a lorazepam challenge in an inpatient setting, or a trial of lorazepam in an outpatient setting.⁵

[polldaddy:10544548]

The authors’ observations

Lorazepam is often considered the first-line treatment for catatonia because it is one of the most widely studied medications. Other benzodiazepines, such as oxazepam and clonazepam, and the sedative/hypnotic zolpidem have also been shown to be effective. Antipsychotics with dopamine-blocking mechanisms can exacerbate symptoms of catatonia and should be avoided in these patients. Furthermore, in cases of refractory catatonia, bilateral electroconvulsive therapy is an important and necessary treatment.⁷

TREATMENT Pharmacologic agents decrease BFCRS score

Mr. S is prescribed a regimen of lorazepam, 2 mg by mouth daily, and the supplement N-acetylcysteine, 600 mg by mouth daily. Within 2 weeks of starting this regimen, Mr. S’s BFCRS score decreases from 26 to 14. After 6 months of treatment with lorazepam, Mr. S shows considerable improvement. The stereotypic behaviors and impulsivity decrease significantly, leading to improved sleep and performance in school. After 6 months Mr. S is successfully tapered off the lorazepam, with a complete return to baseline.

Bottom Line

Hyperkinetic catatonia is easily overlooked, especially in the emergency setting. Catatonia should always be ruled out, particularly in patients with underlying conditions associated with it. Hyperkinetic catatonia is an underrecognized comorbidity in patients with autism.

Related Resources

• Dhossche DM, Wing L, Ohta M, et al. International Review of Neurobiology: Catatonia in autism spectrum disorders, vol 72. New York, NY: Academic Press/Elsevier; 2006.
• Taylor MA, Fink M. Catatonia in psychiatric classification: a home of its own. Am J Psychiatry. 2003;160(7):1233-1241.

Drug Brand Names

Amantadine • Symmetrel
Bromocriptine • Parlodel
Clonazepam • Klonopin
Lorazepam • Ativan
Memantine • Namenda
Oxazepam • Serax
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Valproic acid • Depakene, Depakote
Zolpidem • Ambien

CASE Aggressive, impulsive, and not sleeping

Mr. S, age 22, is brought by his family to his outpatient psychiatrist because he has begun to exhibit motor and verbal tics, excessive adherence to rules and routines, and increased impulsivity and agitation.

Mr. S has significant language impairment and is unreliable as a narrator. His family reports that Mr. S’s behavior has resulted in declining academic performance, and they have curtailed his social activities due to behavioral issues. Both his family and teachers report that it is increasingly difficult to redirect Mr. S’s behavior. Although not physically aggressive, Mr. S becomes verbally agitated when rituals are incomplete. He has gone from sleeping 8 hours each night to only 3 to 4 hours, but he does not appear tired during the day.

HISTORY Multiple hospitalizations

As a child, Mr. S had been diagnosed with autism and intellectual disability. When he was 13, he began exhibiting marked stereotypy, restlessness, impulsivity, frenzy, agitation, combativeness, and purposeless motor activity. At that time, he was not receiving any medications. Mr. S had not slept for 2 days and had been walking in circles nonstop. He became aggressive whenever anyone attempted to redirect his behavior. The family took Mr. S to the emergency department (ED), where clinicians ruled out organic causes for his behavioral disturbances, including infections, drug intoxication, and use of illicit substances. Mr. S was transferred from the ED to a child and adolescent psychiatry ward at a nearby university hospital for inpatient treatment.

On the inpatient unit, the treatment team diagnosed Mr. S with bipolar disorder and believed that he was experiencing a manic episode. He was prescribed quetiapine, 25 mg by mouth during the day and 75 mg by mouth at night, to stabilize his agitation, and was discharged with a plan to follow up with his outpatient psychiatrist. However, within 1 week, his symptoms returned, with markedly increased aggression and agitation, so he was readmitted, tapered off quetiapine, and prescribed valproic acid, 125 mg by mouth during the day and 375 mg by mouth at bedtime. With this regimen, Mr. S became calmer, but when he was discharged home, he was subdued and withdrawn, overly adherent to rules and routines, constantly irritable, and often unable to focus.

Two years later, Mr. S developed hyperammonemia. Valproic acid was discontinued, and many of his behavioral issues resolved. He flourished both academically and socially. He experienced no exacerbation of symptoms until his current presentation.

[polldaddy:10544547]

EVALUATION Pinpointing the cause

Mr. S’s physical examination reveals that his vital signs are within normal limits. Mr. S is mildly tachycardic (heart rate, 105 bpm), with regular rate and rhythm. No murmurs, gallops, or rubs are auscultated. The remainder of the physical exam, including a detailed neurologic exam, is normal.

On mental status examination, Mr. S makes limited eye contact. He has difficulty sitting in the chair, with increased rocking, finger flicking, and hand flapping from baseline. Some compulsive behaviors are noted, such as tapping his neck. He has increased tics (eye blinking and mouth opening) and increased verbigeration and repetitive verbal statements. He loudly and repeatedly demands to go home, and uses short sentences with incorrect pronouns. His affect is difficult to assess, but he is agitated. His thought process is concrete. There is no evidence of suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, or psychosis. Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations. His insight and judgment are limited.

Continue to: The psychiatrist rules out...

The psychiatrist rules out a behavioral exacerbation of autism based on an interview with Mr. S’s family and established rapport from treating him for several years. Mr. S’s family reports that many of his behaviors are not new but that the increased drive and intensity is worrisome. Further, his family cannot identify any stressors or precipitants for the behaviors and reports that offering preferred reinforcers did not help. An anxiety disorder is ruled out because according to the family, Mr. S’s drive to constantly move and complete rituals is fueling his anxiety. Schizoaffective disorder is ruled out because Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations and has not been observed responding to internal stimuli.

His Bush-Francis Catatonia Rating Scale (BFCRS) score is 26, which suggests a high likelihood of catatonia. Based on the BFCRS score, Mr. S’s psychiatrist makes the diagnosis of hyperkinetic catatonia.

The authors’ observations

The psychiatrist determined that Mr. S had been misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 13. At that time, he had experienced his first episode of hyperkinetic catatonia and his symptoms decreased after he received lorazepam in the ED. However, the treatment team did not correctly identify this, most likely due to limited knowledge of catatonia among emergency medicine clinicians.

This case exemplifies a cognitive error of premature closure. Rather than considering catatonia as a complication of autism when Mr. S was 13, the clinicians added a second psychiatric diagnosis of bipolar disorder.Although premature closure errors generally occur when the physician assumes the patient is having a common complication of a known illness,¹ in Mr. S’s case, the opposite occurred.

Conceptualizing catatonia

One helpful model for conceptualizing catatonia is to think of it as a basal ganglia disorder, with lesions in the basal ganglia thalamocortical tracts and the anterior cingulate/medial orbitofrontal circuit. Disrupting these pathways can result in symptoms such as mutism or repetitive and imitative behaviors. This is likely due to decreased disinhibition by gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), resulting in a hypodopaminergic state. This explains why benzodiazepines, which act to increase GABA, are effective for treating catatonia, and antipsychotics that act to decrease dopamine can exacerbate symptoms. Fricchione et al² developed a model to visually represent the neurobiologic pathophysiology of catatonia (Figure²).

Continue to: Underlying causes of catatonia

Catatonia is most often seen in individuals with an underlying psychiatric condition such as schizophrenia, mood disorders, or autism. However, catatonia also occurs in the context of general neurologic and medical disorders, including (but not limited to) infections, metabolic disorders, endocrinopathies, epilepsy, neurodegenerative diseases, delirium, hypertensive encephalopathy, autoimmune encephalitis, and liver and kidney transplantation.³

Subtypes of catatonia include⁴:

• hypokinetic catatonia, which presents as stupor, mutism, and negativism
• hyperkinetic catatonia, which presents as hyperactivity, agitation, and stereotypy (as observed in Mr. S)
• malignant catatonia, which is a potentially lethal form of catatonia that occurs when hypo- or hyperkinetic catatonia is accompanied by autonomic instability such as tachycardia, tachypnea, hypertension, fever, and muscle rigidity
• periodic catatonia, which is characterized by brief episodes of stupor or excitatory catatonia lasting 4 to 10 days. These episodes recur over weeks to years, with patients remaining asymptomatic between episodes, or showing mild symptoms, such as facial grimacing or negativisms. Periodic catatonia often is autosomal dominant, involves linkage for the long arm of chromosome 15, and has a better prognosis than the other forms.

Autism and catatonia

Most individuals with autism who experience a catatonic episode first do so between age 10 and 19, and many episodes are precipitated by sudden changes in routine resulting in stress.⁵ An estimated 12% to 18% of patients with autism are diagnosed with catatonia in their lifetime, but the actual prevalence is likely higher.⁴

One of the reasons for this might be that although catatonia is well known in the psychiatric community, it is relatively unknown in the general medical community. Children and adolescents with psychiatric illness are likely to have symptoms of catatonia overlooked because catatonia often is not included in the differential diagnosis.⁶

In Mr. S’s case, it became clear that he did not have a mood disorder, but was prone to episodes of hyperkinetic catatonia due to his autism.

Continue to: Better recognition of catatonia

As catatonia becomes better elucidated and more clearly described in the literature, there is increasing awareness that symptoms do not always involve stupor, mutism, and slowed motor activity, but can include increased motor activity, agitation, and stereotypies. The BFCRS is extremely useful for quantifying symptoms of catatonia. The best way to confirm the diagnosis is to use a lorazepam challenge in an inpatient setting, or a trial of lorazepam in an outpatient setting.⁵

[polldaddy:10544548]

The authors’ observations

Lorazepam is often considered the first-line treatment for catatonia because it is one of the most widely studied medications. Other benzodiazepines, such as oxazepam and clonazepam, and the sedative/hypnotic zolpidem have also been shown to be effective. Antipsychotics with dopamine-blocking mechanisms can exacerbate symptoms of catatonia and should be avoided in these patients. Furthermore, in cases of refractory catatonia, bilateral electroconvulsive therapy is an important and necessary treatment.⁷

TREATMENT Pharmacologic agents decrease BFCRS score

Mr. S is prescribed a regimen of lorazepam, 2 mg by mouth daily, and the supplement N-acetylcysteine, 600 mg by mouth daily. Within 2 weeks of starting this regimen, Mr. S’s BFCRS score decreases from 26 to 14. After 6 months of treatment with lorazepam, Mr. S shows considerable improvement. The stereotypic behaviors and impulsivity decrease significantly, leading to improved sleep and performance in school. After 6 months Mr. S is successfully tapered off the lorazepam, with a complete return to baseline.

Bottom Line

Hyperkinetic catatonia is easily overlooked, especially in the emergency setting. Catatonia should always be ruled out, particularly in patients with underlying conditions associated with it. Hyperkinetic catatonia is an underrecognized comorbidity in patients with autism.

Related Resources

• Dhossche DM, Wing L, Ohta M, et al. International Review of Neurobiology: Catatonia in autism spectrum disorders, vol 72. New York, NY: Academic Press/Elsevier; 2006.
• Taylor MA, Fink M. Catatonia in psychiatric classification: a home of its own. Am J Psychiatry. 2003;160(7):1233-1241.

Drug Brand Names

Amantadine • Symmetrel
Bromocriptine • Parlodel
Clonazepam • Klonopin
Lorazepam • Ativan
Memantine • Namenda
Oxazepam • Serax
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Valproic acid • Depakene, Depakote
Zolpidem • Ambien

CASE Aggressive, impulsive, and not sleeping

Mr. S, age 22, is brought by his family to his outpatient psychiatrist because he has begun to exhibit motor and verbal tics, excessive adherence to rules and routines, and increased impulsivity and agitation.

Mr. S has significant language impairment and is unreliable as a narrator. His family reports that Mr. S’s behavior has resulted in declining academic performance, and they have curtailed his social activities due to behavioral issues. Both his family and teachers report that it is increasingly difficult to redirect Mr. S’s behavior. Although not physically aggressive, Mr. S becomes verbally agitated when rituals are incomplete. He has gone from sleeping 8 hours each night to only 3 to 4 hours, but he does not appear tired during the day.

HISTORY Multiple hospitalizations

As a child, Mr. S had been diagnosed with autism and intellectual disability. When he was 13, he began exhibiting marked stereotypy, restlessness, impulsivity, frenzy, agitation, combativeness, and purposeless motor activity. At that time, he was not receiving any medications. Mr. S had not slept for 2 days and had been walking in circles nonstop. He became aggressive whenever anyone attempted to redirect his behavior. The family took Mr. S to the emergency department (ED), where clinicians ruled out organic causes for his behavioral disturbances, including infections, drug intoxication, and use of illicit substances. Mr. S was transferred from the ED to a child and adolescent psychiatry ward at a nearby university hospital for inpatient treatment.

On the inpatient unit, the treatment team diagnosed Mr. S with bipolar disorder and believed that he was experiencing a manic episode. He was prescribed quetiapine, 25 mg by mouth during the day and 75 mg by mouth at night, to stabilize his agitation, and was discharged with a plan to follow up with his outpatient psychiatrist. However, within 1 week, his symptoms returned, with markedly increased aggression and agitation, so he was readmitted, tapered off quetiapine, and prescribed valproic acid, 125 mg by mouth during the day and 375 mg by mouth at bedtime. With this regimen, Mr. S became calmer, but when he was discharged home, he was subdued and withdrawn, overly adherent to rules and routines, constantly irritable, and often unable to focus.

Two years later, Mr. S developed hyperammonemia. Valproic acid was discontinued, and many of his behavioral issues resolved. He flourished both academically and socially. He experienced no exacerbation of symptoms until his current presentation.

[polldaddy:10544547]

EVALUATION Pinpointing the cause

Mr. S’s physical examination reveals that his vital signs are within normal limits. Mr. S is mildly tachycardic (heart rate, 105 bpm), with regular rate and rhythm. No murmurs, gallops, or rubs are auscultated. The remainder of the physical exam, including a detailed neurologic exam, is normal.

On mental status examination, Mr. S makes limited eye contact. He has difficulty sitting in the chair, with increased rocking, finger flicking, and hand flapping from baseline. Some compulsive behaviors are noted, such as tapping his neck. He has increased tics (eye blinking and mouth opening) and increased verbigeration and repetitive verbal statements. He loudly and repeatedly demands to go home, and uses short sentences with incorrect pronouns. His affect is difficult to assess, but he is agitated. His thought process is concrete. There is no evidence of suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, or psychosis. Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations. His insight and judgment are limited.

Continue to: The psychiatrist rules out...

The psychiatrist rules out a behavioral exacerbation of autism based on an interview with Mr. S’s family and established rapport from treating him for several years. Mr. S’s family reports that many of his behaviors are not new but that the increased drive and intensity is worrisome. Further, his family cannot identify any stressors or precipitants for the behaviors and reports that offering preferred reinforcers did not help. An anxiety disorder is ruled out because according to the family, Mr. S’s drive to constantly move and complete rituals is fueling his anxiety. Schizoaffective disorder is ruled out because Mr. S denies auditory hallucinations and has not been observed responding to internal stimuli.

His Bush-Francis Catatonia Rating Scale (BFCRS) score is 26, which suggests a high likelihood of catatonia. Based on the BFCRS score, Mr. S’s psychiatrist makes the diagnosis of hyperkinetic catatonia.

The authors’ observations

The psychiatrist determined that Mr. S had been misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 13. At that time, he had experienced his first episode of hyperkinetic catatonia and his symptoms decreased after he received lorazepam in the ED. However, the treatment team did not correctly identify this, most likely due to limited knowledge of catatonia among emergency medicine clinicians.

This case exemplifies a cognitive error of premature closure. Rather than considering catatonia as a complication of autism when Mr. S was 13, the clinicians added a second psychiatric diagnosis of bipolar disorder.Although premature closure errors generally occur when the physician assumes the patient is having a common complication of a known illness,¹ in Mr. S’s case, the opposite occurred.

Conceptualizing catatonia

One helpful model for conceptualizing catatonia is to think of it as a basal ganglia disorder, with lesions in the basal ganglia thalamocortical tracts and the anterior cingulate/medial orbitofrontal circuit. Disrupting these pathways can result in symptoms such as mutism or repetitive and imitative behaviors. This is likely due to decreased disinhibition by gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), resulting in a hypodopaminergic state. This explains why benzodiazepines, which act to increase GABA, are effective for treating catatonia, and antipsychotics that act to decrease dopamine can exacerbate symptoms. Fricchione et al² developed a model to visually represent the neurobiologic pathophysiology of catatonia (Figure²).

Continue to: Underlying causes of catatonia

Catatonia is most often seen in individuals with an underlying psychiatric condition such as schizophrenia, mood disorders, or autism. However, catatonia also occurs in the context of general neurologic and medical disorders, including (but not limited to) infections, metabolic disorders, endocrinopathies, epilepsy, neurodegenerative diseases, delirium, hypertensive encephalopathy, autoimmune encephalitis, and liver and kidney transplantation.³

Subtypes of catatonia include⁴:

• hypokinetic catatonia, which presents as stupor, mutism, and negativism
• hyperkinetic catatonia, which presents as hyperactivity, agitation, and stereotypy (as observed in Mr. S)
• malignant catatonia, which is a potentially lethal form of catatonia that occurs when hypo- or hyperkinetic catatonia is accompanied by autonomic instability such as tachycardia, tachypnea, hypertension, fever, and muscle rigidity
• periodic catatonia, which is characterized by brief episodes of stupor or excitatory catatonia lasting 4 to 10 days. These episodes recur over weeks to years, with patients remaining asymptomatic between episodes, or showing mild symptoms, such as facial grimacing or negativisms. Periodic catatonia often is autosomal dominant, involves linkage for the long arm of chromosome 15, and has a better prognosis than the other forms.

Autism and catatonia

Most individuals with autism who experience a catatonic episode first do so between age 10 and 19, and many episodes are precipitated by sudden changes in routine resulting in stress.⁵ An estimated 12% to 18% of patients with autism are diagnosed with catatonia in their lifetime, but the actual prevalence is likely higher.⁴

One of the reasons for this might be that although catatonia is well known in the psychiatric community, it is relatively unknown in the general medical community. Children and adolescents with psychiatric illness are likely to have symptoms of catatonia overlooked because catatonia often is not included in the differential diagnosis.⁶

In Mr. S’s case, it became clear that he did not have a mood disorder, but was prone to episodes of hyperkinetic catatonia due to his autism.

Continue to: Better recognition of catatonia

As catatonia becomes better elucidated and more clearly described in the literature, there is increasing awareness that symptoms do not always involve stupor, mutism, and slowed motor activity, but can include increased motor activity, agitation, and stereotypies. The BFCRS is extremely useful for quantifying symptoms of catatonia. The best way to confirm the diagnosis is to use a lorazepam challenge in an inpatient setting, or a trial of lorazepam in an outpatient setting.⁵

[polldaddy:10544548]

The authors’ observations

Lorazepam is often considered the first-line treatment for catatonia because it is one of the most widely studied medications. Other benzodiazepines, such as oxazepam and clonazepam, and the sedative/hypnotic zolpidem have also been shown to be effective. Antipsychotics with dopamine-blocking mechanisms can exacerbate symptoms of catatonia and should be avoided in these patients. Furthermore, in cases of refractory catatonia, bilateral electroconvulsive therapy is an important and necessary treatment.⁷

TREATMENT Pharmacologic agents decrease BFCRS score

Mr. S is prescribed a regimen of lorazepam, 2 mg by mouth daily, and the supplement N-acetylcysteine, 600 mg by mouth daily. Within 2 weeks of starting this regimen, Mr. S’s BFCRS score decreases from 26 to 14. After 6 months of treatment with lorazepam, Mr. S shows considerable improvement. The stereotypic behaviors and impulsivity decrease significantly, leading to improved sleep and performance in school. After 6 months Mr. S is successfully tapered off the lorazepam, with a complete return to baseline.

Bottom Line

Hyperkinetic catatonia is easily overlooked, especially in the emergency setting. Catatonia should always be ruled out, particularly in patients with underlying conditions associated with it. Hyperkinetic catatonia is an underrecognized comorbidity in patients with autism.

Related Resources

• Dhossche DM, Wing L, Ohta M, et al. International Review of Neurobiology: Catatonia in autism spectrum disorders, vol 72. New York, NY: Academic Press/Elsevier; 2006.
• Taylor MA, Fink M. Catatonia in psychiatric classification: a home of its own. Am J Psychiatry. 2003;160(7):1233-1241.

Drug Brand Names

Amantadine • Symmetrel
Bromocriptine • Parlodel
Clonazepam • Klonopin
Lorazepam • Ativan
Memantine • Namenda
Oxazepam • Serax
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Valproic acid • Depakene, Depakote
Zolpidem • Ambien

Seventy-three. That is the average number of questions asked daily by preschool-aged children.

Children ask questions to make sense of their world, to learn how things work, to verify their safety, and to interact with others. As a physician, a child and adolescent psychiatrist, and a father to 6-year-old twin daughters, I too am asking more questions these days. Both professionally and personally, these questions are prompted by shifts in routines, uncertainty, and anxiety brought on by the ongoing coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic. In parallel, I find myself reflecting on my twin daughters’ questions; their questions reverberate with my own, and with the increased anxiety and fears of my patients and their parents.

With this in mind, I’d like to share 2 questions related to pediatric anxiety that may sculpt our clinical work—whether with children, adolescents, or adults—as we provide treatment and comfort to our patients during this pandemic of anxiety.

How do parents affect children’s anxiety?

First, children take cues from their parents. Almost a half century ago, child and adolescent psychiatrist Robert Emde, MD, and others, using elegantly designed experimental settings, documented that a mother’s response strongly influences her young son or daughter’s emotional reaction to a stranger, or to new situations.¹ Specifically, very young children were less afraid and interacted more with a stranger and did so more quickly when their mother had a positive (as opposed to neutral or fearful) reaction to the situation.² Further, in these studies, when the parent’s face was partially covered, very young children became more fearful. Taken together, these findings remind us that children actively seek to read the affective states of those who care for them, and use these reactions to anchor their responses to shifts in routine, such as those brought on by the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.

Second, in reacting to the pandemic, parents model emotional regulation—an important skill that children and adolescents must develop as they experience intense affect and anxiety. As mental health clinicians, we know that emotional regulation is an essential component of mental health, and problems with it are a hallmark characteristic of several disorders, including anxiety disorders. Further, neuroimaging studies over the past decade have demonstrated that the way in which the medial prefrontal cortex and lower limbic structures (eg, the amygdala) are connected shifts from early childhood through adolescence and into early adulthood.³ It is likely that these shifts in functional connectivity are shaped by the environment as well as intrinsic aspects of the patient’s biology, and that these shifts subtend the developmental expression of anxiety, particularly in times of stress.

How should we talk to children about the pandemic?

Trust is not only the scaffold of our therapeutic relationships, but also a critical component of our conversations with children about the pandemic. Having established a trusting relationship prior to talking with children about their anxiety and about the pandemic, we will do well to remember that there is often more to a question than the actual direct interrogative. From a developmental standpoint, children may repeatedly ask the same question because they are struggling to understand an abstract concept, or are unable to make the same implicit causal link that we—as adults—have made. Also, children may ask the same question multiple times as a way of seeking reassurance. Finally, when a child asks her father “How many people are going to die?” she may actually be asking whether her parents, grandparents, or friends will be safe and healthy. Thus, as we talk with children, we must remember that they may be implicitly asking for more than a number, date, or mechanism. We must think about the motivation for their questions vis a vis their specific fears and past experiences.

For children, adolescents, and adults, the anxiety created by the pandemic constantly shifts, is hard-to-define, and pervades their lives. This ensuing chronic variable stress can worsen both physical and mental health.⁴ But, it also creates an opportunity for resiliency which—like the coronavirus—can be contagious.^5,6 Knowing this, I’d like to ask 4 questions, based on David Brooks’ recent Op-Ed in the New York Times⁷:

1. Can we become “softer and wiser” as a result of the pandemic?
2. How can we inoculate our patients against the loneliness and isolation that worsen most psychiatric disorders?
3. How can we “see deeper into [our]selves” to provide comfort to our patients, families, and each other as we confront this viral pandemic of anxiety?
4. Following “social distancing,” how do we rekindle “social trust”?

Seventy-three. That is the average number of questions asked daily by preschool-aged children.

Children ask questions to make sense of their world, to learn how things work, to verify their safety, and to interact with others. As a physician, a child and adolescent psychiatrist, and a father to 6-year-old twin daughters, I too am asking more questions these days. Both professionally and personally, these questions are prompted by shifts in routines, uncertainty, and anxiety brought on by the ongoing coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic. In parallel, I find myself reflecting on my twin daughters’ questions; their questions reverberate with my own, and with the increased anxiety and fears of my patients and their parents.

With this in mind, I’d like to share 2 questions related to pediatric anxiety that may sculpt our clinical work—whether with children, adolescents, or adults—as we provide treatment and comfort to our patients during this pandemic of anxiety.

How do parents affect children’s anxiety?

First, children take cues from their parents. Almost a half century ago, child and adolescent psychiatrist Robert Emde, MD, and others, using elegantly designed experimental settings, documented that a mother’s response strongly influences her young son or daughter’s emotional reaction to a stranger, or to new situations.¹ Specifically, very young children were less afraid and interacted more with a stranger and did so more quickly when their mother had a positive (as opposed to neutral or fearful) reaction to the situation.² Further, in these studies, when the parent’s face was partially covered, very young children became more fearful. Taken together, these findings remind us that children actively seek to read the affective states of those who care for them, and use these reactions to anchor their responses to shifts in routine, such as those brought on by the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.

Second, in reacting to the pandemic, parents model emotional regulation—an important skill that children and adolescents must develop as they experience intense affect and anxiety. As mental health clinicians, we know that emotional regulation is an essential component of mental health, and problems with it are a hallmark characteristic of several disorders, including anxiety disorders. Further, neuroimaging studies over the past decade have demonstrated that the way in which the medial prefrontal cortex and lower limbic structures (eg, the amygdala) are connected shifts from early childhood through adolescence and into early adulthood.³ It is likely that these shifts in functional connectivity are shaped by the environment as well as intrinsic aspects of the patient’s biology, and that these shifts subtend the developmental expression of anxiety, particularly in times of stress.

How should we talk to children about the pandemic?

Trust is not only the scaffold of our therapeutic relationships, but also a critical component of our conversations with children about the pandemic. Having established a trusting relationship prior to talking with children about their anxiety and about the pandemic, we will do well to remember that there is often more to a question than the actual direct interrogative. From a developmental standpoint, children may repeatedly ask the same question because they are struggling to understand an abstract concept, or are unable to make the same implicit causal link that we—as adults—have made. Also, children may ask the same question multiple times as a way of seeking reassurance. Finally, when a child asks her father “How many people are going to die?” she may actually be asking whether her parents, grandparents, or friends will be safe and healthy. Thus, as we talk with children, we must remember that they may be implicitly asking for more than a number, date, or mechanism. We must think about the motivation for their questions vis a vis their specific fears and past experiences.

For children, adolescents, and adults, the anxiety created by the pandemic constantly shifts, is hard-to-define, and pervades their lives. This ensuing chronic variable stress can worsen both physical and mental health.⁴ But, it also creates an opportunity for resiliency which—like the coronavirus—can be contagious.^5,6 Knowing this, I’d like to ask 4 questions, based on David Brooks’ recent Op-Ed in the New York Times⁷:

1. Can we become “softer and wiser” as a result of the pandemic?
2. How can we inoculate our patients against the loneliness and isolation that worsen most psychiatric disorders?
3. How can we “see deeper into [our]selves” to provide comfort to our patients, families, and each other as we confront this viral pandemic of anxiety?
4. Following “social distancing,” how do we rekindle “social trust”?

Seventy-three. That is the average number of questions asked daily by preschool-aged children.

Children ask questions to make sense of their world, to learn how things work, to verify their safety, and to interact with others. As a physician, a child and adolescent psychiatrist, and a father to 6-year-old twin daughters, I too am asking more questions these days. Both professionally and personally, these questions are prompted by shifts in routines, uncertainty, and anxiety brought on by the ongoing coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic. In parallel, I find myself reflecting on my twin daughters’ questions; their questions reverberate with my own, and with the increased anxiety and fears of my patients and their parents.

With this in mind, I’d like to share 2 questions related to pediatric anxiety that may sculpt our clinical work—whether with children, adolescents, or adults—as we provide treatment and comfort to our patients during this pandemic of anxiety.

How do parents affect children’s anxiety?

First, children take cues from their parents. Almost a half century ago, child and adolescent psychiatrist Robert Emde, MD, and others, using elegantly designed experimental settings, documented that a mother’s response strongly influences her young son or daughter’s emotional reaction to a stranger, or to new situations.¹ Specifically, very young children were less afraid and interacted more with a stranger and did so more quickly when their mother had a positive (as opposed to neutral or fearful) reaction to the situation.² Further, in these studies, when the parent’s face was partially covered, very young children became more fearful. Taken together, these findings remind us that children actively seek to read the affective states of those who care for them, and use these reactions to anchor their responses to shifts in routine, such as those brought on by the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.

Second, in reacting to the pandemic, parents model emotional regulation—an important skill that children and adolescents must develop as they experience intense affect and anxiety. As mental health clinicians, we know that emotional regulation is an essential component of mental health, and problems with it are a hallmark characteristic of several disorders, including anxiety disorders. Further, neuroimaging studies over the past decade have demonstrated that the way in which the medial prefrontal cortex and lower limbic structures (eg, the amygdala) are connected shifts from early childhood through adolescence and into early adulthood.³ It is likely that these shifts in functional connectivity are shaped by the environment as well as intrinsic aspects of the patient’s biology, and that these shifts subtend the developmental expression of anxiety, particularly in times of stress.

How should we talk to children about the pandemic?

Trust is not only the scaffold of our therapeutic relationships, but also a critical component of our conversations with children about the pandemic. Having established a trusting relationship prior to talking with children about their anxiety and about the pandemic, we will do well to remember that there is often more to a question than the actual direct interrogative. From a developmental standpoint, children may repeatedly ask the same question because they are struggling to understand an abstract concept, or are unable to make the same implicit causal link that we—as adults—have made. Also, children may ask the same question multiple times as a way of seeking reassurance. Finally, when a child asks her father “How many people are going to die?” she may actually be asking whether her parents, grandparents, or friends will be safe and healthy. Thus, as we talk with children, we must remember that they may be implicitly asking for more than a number, date, or mechanism. We must think about the motivation for their questions vis a vis their specific fears and past experiences.

For children, adolescents, and adults, the anxiety created by the pandemic constantly shifts, is hard-to-define, and pervades their lives. This ensuing chronic variable stress can worsen both physical and mental health.⁴ But, it also creates an opportunity for resiliency which—like the coronavirus—can be contagious.^5,6 Knowing this, I’d like to ask 4 questions, based on David Brooks’ recent Op-Ed in the New York Times⁷:

1. Can we become “softer and wiser” as a result of the pandemic?
2. How can we inoculate our patients against the loneliness and isolation that worsen most psychiatric disorders?
3. How can we “see deeper into [our]selves” to provide comfort to our patients, families, and each other as we confront this viral pandemic of anxiety?
4. Following “social distancing,” how do we rekindle “social trust”?

My medical career began during a tragedy. I started medical school in August 2001 at New York University, a few dozen blocks north of the World Trade Center in Manhattan. Several weeks later, the September 11 terrorist attacks devastated the city, and the rest of our country. Though we knew virtually nothing yet about practicing medicine, my entire class put on our scrubs and ran to the Bellevue Hospital emergency department to see if there was anything we could do to help. In the end, there was not much we could do that day, but the experience seared into us the notion that a physician stands tall in a crisis and does whatever it takes to help.

For me, the recent emergency we are facing with the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic has brought back bone-chilling memories of that time, especially because New York City has been one of the hardest-hit cities in the world. It’s hard for anyone to change routines on a dime, but I’m fortunate to run a solo private practice with a small administrative staff. I was able to pivot my medication management and therapy patients to 100% telepsychiatry overnight, even though I quite dislike the emotional distancing that the physical separation creates. However, I do administer some treatments that require my patients’ physical presence: long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics, and intranasal esketamine. I consider both to be life-saving interventions, so I had to figure out how to continue offering those services while doing my part to keep everyone healthy.

Drive-up LAI antipsychotics

Many of my patients who receive LAIs are on formulations that are injected into the deltoid, so I transitioned to having them drive up to the front door of my office and roll up their sleeve so I could administer the injection without them leaving their car. If it was possible to convert a monthly deltoid injection to an equivalent quarterly deltoid injection, I accelerated that process. It took a little more thought to figure out how to best manage patients who had been getting gluteal injections. Deltoid injections are more convenient, but for certain antipsychotics, the only available LAI formulations that allow intervals longer than 1 month require gluteal administration due to the injection volume and pharmacokinetic considerations. Because of privacy and safety considerations, I didn’t feel gluteal injections would be feasible or appropriate for drive-up administration.

Maintaining patients on their gluteal injections would provide a longer duration between doses, but because patients would have to come inside the office to get them, there would be a higher risk of COVID-19 transmission. Converting them to a once-monthly equivalent with the same molecule and comparable dosage given in the deltoid via drive-up would reduce the risk of viral transmission, but requiring more frequent injections would increase the likelihood they might not show up for all doses during this crisis. I spoke with several other psychiatrists about this dilemma, and several of them favored lengthening the injection cycle as the top priority during this time. However, given the exponential curve of viral transmission in a pandemic, time is of the essence to “flatten the curve.” I decided that prioritizing the reduction of infection risk was paramount, and so I began switching my patients receiving gluteal injections with a longer duration to deltoid injections with a shorter duration. I can only hope I made the right decision for my patients, staff, and family.

Drive-up esketamine

Then came the hardest question—how do I continue to provide intranasal esketamine to my patients? There is an (appropriately) rigid Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy protocol in place that requires patients to be monitored in a medically supervised health care setting for 2 hours after receiving esketamine. Having a patient in the office for at least 2 hours would create a tremendous risk for viral transmission, even in the best-case scenario of using personal protective equipment and stringent efforts to sterilize the space. I didn’t consider putting the treatments on hold because esketamine is indicated solely for patients with treatment-resistant depression, and these patients couldn’t be effectively managed with conventional oral antidepressants. I decided I’d have to figure out a way to adapt the drive-up LAI administration process for esketamine treatments as well.

In my practice, esketamine monitoring usually occurs in a treatment room that has a back entrance to a small, private parking lot. I realized that if I had the patients pull around the building and park in the spot right outside the window, we could maintain direct observation from inside the office while they sat in their car! Patients are not permitted to drive after receiving an esketamine treatment, so we take possession of their car keys to prevent them from driving off before the end of the monitoring period. We give them one of our automatic blood pressure cuffs to take the required blood pressure readings, and they relay the results through a video telemedicine connection. We also enlist the patient’s designated driver to provide an additional set of eyes for monitoring. When the observation period ends, the cuff is retrieved and sanitized.

Meeting our patients’ needs

Our duty to our patients is vital during a crisis, and they deserve everything in our power that we can offer them. We can’t be complacent in our routines and let our fears of what might or might not happen paralyze us from moving forward. If we are flexible and creative, we can rise to overcome any challenge to meeting our patients’ needs. Throughout this ordeal, I’ve seen some of the patients I was most worried about turn out to be some of the most resilient. When our patients have risen to the occasion, what excuse do we have not to do the same?

My medical career began during a tragedy. I started medical school in August 2001 at New York University, a few dozen blocks north of the World Trade Center in Manhattan. Several weeks later, the September 11 terrorist attacks devastated the city, and the rest of our country. Though we knew virtually nothing yet about practicing medicine, my entire class put on our scrubs and ran to the Bellevue Hospital emergency department to see if there was anything we could do to help. In the end, there was not much we could do that day, but the experience seared into us the notion that a physician stands tall in a crisis and does whatever it takes to help.

For me, the recent emergency we are facing with the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic has brought back bone-chilling memories of that time, especially because New York City has been one of the hardest-hit cities in the world. It’s hard for anyone to change routines on a dime, but I’m fortunate to run a solo private practice with a small administrative staff. I was able to pivot my medication management and therapy patients to 100% telepsychiatry overnight, even though I quite dislike the emotional distancing that the physical separation creates. However, I do administer some treatments that require my patients’ physical presence: long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics, and intranasal esketamine. I consider both to be life-saving interventions, so I had to figure out how to continue offering those services while doing my part to keep everyone healthy.

Drive-up LAI antipsychotics

Many of my patients who receive LAIs are on formulations that are injected into the deltoid, so I transitioned to having them drive up to the front door of my office and roll up their sleeve so I could administer the injection without them leaving their car. If it was possible to convert a monthly deltoid injection to an equivalent quarterly deltoid injection, I accelerated that process. It took a little more thought to figure out how to best manage patients who had been getting gluteal injections. Deltoid injections are more convenient, but for certain antipsychotics, the only available LAI formulations that allow intervals longer than 1 month require gluteal administration due to the injection volume and pharmacokinetic considerations. Because of privacy and safety considerations, I didn’t feel gluteal injections would be feasible or appropriate for drive-up administration.

Maintaining patients on their gluteal injections would provide a longer duration between doses, but because patients would have to come inside the office to get them, there would be a higher risk of COVID-19 transmission. Converting them to a once-monthly equivalent with the same molecule and comparable dosage given in the deltoid via drive-up would reduce the risk of viral transmission, but requiring more frequent injections would increase the likelihood they might not show up for all doses during this crisis. I spoke with several other psychiatrists about this dilemma, and several of them favored lengthening the injection cycle as the top priority during this time. However, given the exponential curve of viral transmission in a pandemic, time is of the essence to “flatten the curve.” I decided that prioritizing the reduction of infection risk was paramount, and so I began switching my patients receiving gluteal injections with a longer duration to deltoid injections with a shorter duration. I can only hope I made the right decision for my patients, staff, and family.

Drive-up esketamine

Then came the hardest question—how do I continue to provide intranasal esketamine to my patients? There is an (appropriately) rigid Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy protocol in place that requires patients to be monitored in a medically supervised health care setting for 2 hours after receiving esketamine. Having a patient in the office for at least 2 hours would create a tremendous risk for viral transmission, even in the best-case scenario of using personal protective equipment and stringent efforts to sterilize the space. I didn’t consider putting the treatments on hold because esketamine is indicated solely for patients with treatment-resistant depression, and these patients couldn’t be effectively managed with conventional oral antidepressants. I decided I’d have to figure out a way to adapt the drive-up LAI administration process for esketamine treatments as well.

In my practice, esketamine monitoring usually occurs in a treatment room that has a back entrance to a small, private parking lot. I realized that if I had the patients pull around the building and park in the spot right outside the window, we could maintain direct observation from inside the office while they sat in their car! Patients are not permitted to drive after receiving an esketamine treatment, so we take possession of their car keys to prevent them from driving off before the end of the monitoring period. We give them one of our automatic blood pressure cuffs to take the required blood pressure readings, and they relay the results through a video telemedicine connection. We also enlist the patient’s designated driver to provide an additional set of eyes for monitoring. When the observation period ends, the cuff is retrieved and sanitized.

Meeting our patients’ needs

Our duty to our patients is vital during a crisis, and they deserve everything in our power that we can offer them. We can’t be complacent in our routines and let our fears of what might or might not happen paralyze us from moving forward. If we are flexible and creative, we can rise to overcome any challenge to meeting our patients’ needs. Throughout this ordeal, I’ve seen some of the patients I was most worried about turn out to be some of the most resilient. When our patients have risen to the occasion, what excuse do we have not to do the same?

My medical career began during a tragedy. I started medical school in August 2001 at New York University, a few dozen blocks north of the World Trade Center in Manhattan. Several weeks later, the September 11 terrorist attacks devastated the city, and the rest of our country. Though we knew virtually nothing yet about practicing medicine, my entire class put on our scrubs and ran to the Bellevue Hospital emergency department to see if there was anything we could do to help. In the end, there was not much we could do that day, but the experience seared into us the notion that a physician stands tall in a crisis and does whatever it takes to help.

For me, the recent emergency we are facing with the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic has brought back bone-chilling memories of that time, especially because New York City has been one of the hardest-hit cities in the world. It’s hard for anyone to change routines on a dime, but I’m fortunate to run a solo private practice with a small administrative staff. I was able to pivot my medication management and therapy patients to 100% telepsychiatry overnight, even though I quite dislike the emotional distancing that the physical separation creates. However, I do administer some treatments that require my patients’ physical presence: long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics, and intranasal esketamine. I consider both to be life-saving interventions, so I had to figure out how to continue offering those services while doing my part to keep everyone healthy.

Drive-up LAI antipsychotics

Many of my patients who receive LAIs are on formulations that are injected into the deltoid, so I transitioned to having them drive up to the front door of my office and roll up their sleeve so I could administer the injection without them leaving their car. If it was possible to convert a monthly deltoid injection to an equivalent quarterly deltoid injection, I accelerated that process. It took a little more thought to figure out how to best manage patients who had been getting gluteal injections. Deltoid injections are more convenient, but for certain antipsychotics, the only available LAI formulations that allow intervals longer than 1 month require gluteal administration due to the injection volume and pharmacokinetic considerations. Because of privacy and safety considerations, I didn’t feel gluteal injections would be feasible or appropriate for drive-up administration.

Maintaining patients on their gluteal injections would provide a longer duration between doses, but because patients would have to come inside the office to get them, there would be a higher risk of COVID-19 transmission. Converting them to a once-monthly equivalent with the same molecule and comparable dosage given in the deltoid via drive-up would reduce the risk of viral transmission, but requiring more frequent injections would increase the likelihood they might not show up for all doses during this crisis. I spoke with several other psychiatrists about this dilemma, and several of them favored lengthening the injection cycle as the top priority during this time. However, given the exponential curve of viral transmission in a pandemic, time is of the essence to “flatten the curve.” I decided that prioritizing the reduction of infection risk was paramount, and so I began switching my patients receiving gluteal injections with a longer duration to deltoid injections with a shorter duration. I can only hope I made the right decision for my patients, staff, and family.

Drive-up esketamine

Then came the hardest question—how do I continue to provide intranasal esketamine to my patients? There is an (appropriately) rigid Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy protocol in place that requires patients to be monitored in a medically supervised health care setting for 2 hours after receiving esketamine. Having a patient in the office for at least 2 hours would create a tremendous risk for viral transmission, even in the best-case scenario of using personal protective equipment and stringent efforts to sterilize the space. I didn’t consider putting the treatments on hold because esketamine is indicated solely for patients with treatment-resistant depression, and these patients couldn’t be effectively managed with conventional oral antidepressants. I decided I’d have to figure out a way to adapt the drive-up LAI administration process for esketamine treatments as well.

In my practice, esketamine monitoring usually occurs in a treatment room that has a back entrance to a small, private parking lot. I realized that if I had the patients pull around the building and park in the spot right outside the window, we could maintain direct observation from inside the office while they sat in their car! Patients are not permitted to drive after receiving an esketamine treatment, so we take possession of their car keys to prevent them from driving off before the end of the monitoring period. We give them one of our automatic blood pressure cuffs to take the required blood pressure readings, and they relay the results through a video telemedicine connection. We also enlist the patient’s designated driver to provide an additional set of eyes for monitoring. When the observation period ends, the cuff is retrieved and sanitized.

Meeting our patients’ needs

Our duty to our patients is vital during a crisis, and they deserve everything in our power that we can offer them. We can’t be complacent in our routines and let our fears of what might or might not happen paralyze us from moving forward. If we are flexible and creative, we can rise to overcome any challenge to meeting our patients’ needs. Throughout this ordeal, I’ve seen some of the patients I was most worried about turn out to be some of the most resilient. When our patients have risen to the occasion, what excuse do we have not to do the same?

Since early March 2020, when the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak a pandemic,¹ our lives have been drastically altered. As the number of COVID-19 cases continued to rise, businesses closed, jobs disappeared, store shelves were emptied, sporting events were postponed or cancelled, the economy tanked, and social distancing became a new way of life.

COVID-19 has created uncertainty in our lives, both professionally and personally. This can be difficult to face because we are programmed to desire certainty, to want to know what is happening around us, and to notice threatening people and/or situations.² Uncertainty can lead us to feel stressed or overwhelmed due to a sense of losing control.² Our mental and physical well-being can begin to deteriorate. We can feel more frazzled, angry, helpless, sad, frustrated, or confused,² and we can become more isolated. These thoughts and feelings can make our daily activities more cumbersome.

To maintain our own mental and physical well-being, we must give ourselves permission to change the narrative from “the patient is always first” to “the patient always—but not always first.”³ Doing so will allow us to continue to help our patients.³ Despite the pervasive uncertainty, taking the following actions can help us to maintain our own mental and physical health.^2-5

Minimize news that causes us to feel worse. COVID-19 news dominates the headlines. The near-constant, ever-changing stream of reports can cause us to feel overwhelmed and stressed. We should get information only from trusted sources, such as the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the WHO, and do so only once or twice a day. We should seek out only facts, and not focus on rumors that could worsen our thoughts and feelings.

Social distancing does not mean social isolation. To reduce the spread of COVID-19, social distancing has become necessary, but we should not completely avoid each other. We can still communicate with others via texting, e-mail, social media, video conferences, and phone calls. Despite not being able to engage in socially accepted physical greetings such as handshakes or hugs, we should not hesitate to verbally greet each other, albeit from a distance. In addition, we can still go outside while maintaining a safe distance from each other.

Keep a routine. Because we are creatures of habit, a routine (even a new one) can help sustain our mental and physical well-being. We should continue to:

• remain active at our usual times
• get adequate sleep and rest
• eat nutritious food
• engage in physical activity
• maintain contact with our family and friends
• continue treatments for any physical and/or mental conditions.

Avoid unhealthy coping strategies, such as binge-watching TV shows, because these can worsen psychological and physical well-being. You are likely to know what to do to “de-stress” yourself, and you should not hesitate to keep yourself psychologically and physically fit. Continue to engage in CDC-recommended hygienic practices such as frequently washing your hands with soap and water for at least 20 seconds, avoiding close contact with people who are sick, and staying at home when you are sick. Seek mental health and/or medical treatment as necessary.

Continue to: Put the uncertainty in perspective

Put the uncertainty in perspective. Hopefully, there will come a time when we will resume our normal lives. Until then, we should acknowledge the uncertainty without immediately reacting to the worries that it creates. It is important to take a step back and think before reacting. This involves challenging ourselves to stay in the present and resist projecting into the future. Use this time for self-care, reflection, and/or catching up on the “to-do list.” We should be kind to ourselves and those around us. As best we can, we should show empathy to others and try to help our friends, families, and colleagues who are having a difficult time managing this crisis.

Since early March 2020, when the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak a pandemic,¹ our lives have been drastically altered. As the number of COVID-19 cases continued to rise, businesses closed, jobs disappeared, store shelves were emptied, sporting events were postponed or cancelled, the economy tanked, and social distancing became a new way of life.

COVID-19 has created uncertainty in our lives, both professionally and personally. This can be difficult to face because we are programmed to desire certainty, to want to know what is happening around us, and to notice threatening people and/or situations.² Uncertainty can lead us to feel stressed or overwhelmed due to a sense of losing control.² Our mental and physical well-being can begin to deteriorate. We can feel more frazzled, angry, helpless, sad, frustrated, or confused,² and we can become more isolated. These thoughts and feelings can make our daily activities more cumbersome.

To maintain our own mental and physical well-being, we must give ourselves permission to change the narrative from “the patient is always first” to “the patient always—but not always first.”³ Doing so will allow us to continue to help our patients.³ Despite the pervasive uncertainty, taking the following actions can help us to maintain our own mental and physical health.^2-5

Minimize news that causes us to feel worse. COVID-19 news dominates the headlines. The near-constant, ever-changing stream of reports can cause us to feel overwhelmed and stressed. We should get information only from trusted sources, such as the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the WHO, and do so only once or twice a day. We should seek out only facts, and not focus on rumors that could worsen our thoughts and feelings.

Social distancing does not mean social isolation. To reduce the spread of COVID-19, social distancing has become necessary, but we should not completely avoid each other. We can still communicate with others via texting, e-mail, social media, video conferences, and phone calls. Despite not being able to engage in socially accepted physical greetings such as handshakes or hugs, we should not hesitate to verbally greet each other, albeit from a distance. In addition, we can still go outside while maintaining a safe distance from each other.

Keep a routine. Because we are creatures of habit, a routine (even a new one) can help sustain our mental and physical well-being. We should continue to:

• remain active at our usual times
• get adequate sleep and rest
• eat nutritious food
• engage in physical activity
• maintain contact with our family and friends
• continue treatments for any physical and/or mental conditions.

Avoid unhealthy coping strategies, such as binge-watching TV shows, because these can worsen psychological and physical well-being. You are likely to know what to do to “de-stress” yourself, and you should not hesitate to keep yourself psychologically and physically fit. Continue to engage in CDC-recommended hygienic practices such as frequently washing your hands with soap and water for at least 20 seconds, avoiding close contact with people who are sick, and staying at home when you are sick. Seek mental health and/or medical treatment as necessary.

Continue to: Put the uncertainty in perspective

Put the uncertainty in perspective. Hopefully, there will come a time when we will resume our normal lives. Until then, we should acknowledge the uncertainty without immediately reacting to the worries that it creates. It is important to take a step back and think before reacting. This involves challenging ourselves to stay in the present and resist projecting into the future. Use this time for self-care, reflection, and/or catching up on the “to-do list.” We should be kind to ourselves and those around us. As best we can, we should show empathy to others and try to help our friends, families, and colleagues who are having a difficult time managing this crisis.

Since early March 2020, when the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak a pandemic,¹ our lives have been drastically altered. As the number of COVID-19 cases continued to rise, businesses closed, jobs disappeared, store shelves were emptied, sporting events were postponed or cancelled, the economy tanked, and social distancing became a new way of life.

COVID-19 has created uncertainty in our lives, both professionally and personally. This can be difficult to face because we are programmed to desire certainty, to want to know what is happening around us, and to notice threatening people and/or situations.² Uncertainty can lead us to feel stressed or overwhelmed due to a sense of losing control.² Our mental and physical well-being can begin to deteriorate. We can feel more frazzled, angry, helpless, sad, frustrated, or confused,² and we can become more isolated. These thoughts and feelings can make our daily activities more cumbersome.

To maintain our own mental and physical well-being, we must give ourselves permission to change the narrative from “the patient is always first” to “the patient always—but not always first.”³ Doing so will allow us to continue to help our patients.³ Despite the pervasive uncertainty, taking the following actions can help us to maintain our own mental and physical health.^2-5

Minimize news that causes us to feel worse. COVID-19 news dominates the headlines. The near-constant, ever-changing stream of reports can cause us to feel overwhelmed and stressed. We should get information only from trusted sources, such as the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the WHO, and do so only once or twice a day. We should seek out only facts, and not focus on rumors that could worsen our thoughts and feelings.

Social distancing does not mean social isolation. To reduce the spread of COVID-19, social distancing has become necessary, but we should not completely avoid each other. We can still communicate with others via texting, e-mail, social media, video conferences, and phone calls. Despite not being able to engage in socially accepted physical greetings such as handshakes or hugs, we should not hesitate to verbally greet each other, albeit from a distance. In addition, we can still go outside while maintaining a safe distance from each other.

Keep a routine. Because we are creatures of habit, a routine (even a new one) can help sustain our mental and physical well-being. We should continue to:

• remain active at our usual times
• get adequate sleep and rest
• eat nutritious food
• engage in physical activity
• maintain contact with our family and friends
• continue treatments for any physical and/or mental conditions.

Avoid unhealthy coping strategies, such as binge-watching TV shows, because these can worsen psychological and physical well-being. You are likely to know what to do to “de-stress” yourself, and you should not hesitate to keep yourself psychologically and physically fit. Continue to engage in CDC-recommended hygienic practices such as frequently washing your hands with soap and water for at least 20 seconds, avoiding close contact with people who are sick, and staying at home when you are sick. Seek mental health and/or medical treatment as necessary.

Continue to: Put the uncertainty in perspective

Put the uncertainty in perspective. Hopefully, there will come a time when we will resume our normal lives. Until then, we should acknowledge the uncertainty without immediately reacting to the worries that it creates. It is important to take a step back and think before reacting. This involves challenging ourselves to stay in the present and resist projecting into the future. Use this time for self-care, reflection, and/or catching up on the “to-do list.” We should be kind to ourselves and those around us. As best we can, we should show empathy to others and try to help our friends, families, and colleagues who are having a difficult time managing this crisis.

It was unthinkable, but it has happened. A virulent and invisible virus, 10 microns in size, with no vaccine or cure yet, shut down our nation, the third largest country in the world with 330 million people. Overnight, our thriving cities became ghost towns. Schools were closed. Millions of businesses, restaurants, and stores were abruptly shuttered. Sporting events were instantly canceled. Air travel came to a halt.

The largest economy in the world started to tank. Millions of people lost their jobs and were forced to stay home. The vital structures of society were dismantled. Our vibrant culture came to a screeching halt. It’s a nightmare scenario that even the most imaginative science fiction writers could not have envisioned. By any measure, the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic unraveled everything, and became a human catastrophe and a social calamity reminiscent of the deadly 1918 influenza pandemic, or the devastating plagues that decimated Europe during the Middle Ages.

The human toll in death and suffering was the real disaster. Emergency departments and hospitals filled up with victims of the scourge, sickly and unable to breathe as the virus hijacked their red blood cells and lungs, and destroyed their alveoli. Compounding the disaster was a lack of medical supplies. The country was clearly caught off-guard, completely unprepared for the scale of the pandemic and the massive onslaught of desperately ill people requiring intensive care and special equipment. In addition, health care staff became stretched beyond the limit, and entire hospitals were transformed overnight into highly specialized ICUs. Medical care for millions with non-COVID-19 conditions was put on hold so that vital resources could be diverted to the desperately ill victims of these infections. Many physicians, nurses, and respiratory therapists—laudable heroes—succumbed to the perverse virus exhaled by their patients.

Insidious social effects

COVID-19 is not only a murderer, but also a thief. It stole our Spring; our religious holidays (Easter and Passover); classroom education in schools and colleges; the Prom; weddings; graduation ceremonies; proper funerals; concerts; football, basketball, hockey, and baseball games; Broadway shows; and even data from animal research. More important, it robbed us of our peace of mind, our liberty, and our pursuit of small pleasures such as family gatherings or schmoozing with friends at a nice restaurant. COVID-19 is a cruel, dastardly scoundrel.

I write this editorial as I sit at home, which I have not left for several weeks, like hundreds of millions in our country and around the world. We were all glued to TV news or the internet to learn about the latest updates, including the grim news of those who got infected, hospitalized, or passed away. Fear of dying permeated all age groups, especially those who were older and infirmed.

Making it worse was the relentless uncertainty. When will it end? Gradually or suddenly? When is it going to be safe to go to work again, or to visit our loved ones and our friends? When can we see our patients face-to-face instead of remotely by phone or video conferencing? When can we have live meetings instead of virtual video conferences? When will stores open so we can shop? When can we take our children or grandchildren to a baseball game or a show? Will the virus return next winter for another cycle of mayhem and social paralysis? When will the economy start to rebound, and how long will that take? Will our retirement accounts recoup their losses? So many questions with no clear answers. A malignant uncertainty, indeed.

And there are our patients who live with anxiety and depression, whose anguish is intensifying as they sit alone in their apartments or homes, struggling to cope with this sudden, overwhelming stress. How will they react to this pandemic? Obviously, a life-threatening event such as a deadly pandemic with no cure is likely to produce an acute stress reaction and, ultimately, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). And if COVID-19 returns next year for another unwelcome visit, PTSD symptoms will get a booster shot and lead to severe anxiety, depression, or suicide. Psychiatrists and other mental health professionals, who were already stretched thin, must contend with another crisis that has destabilized millions of patients receiving psychiatric care, or new patients who seek help for themselves or their family members.

Continue to: One intervention that is emerging...

One intervention that is emerging on a large scale is online therapy. This includes reassurance and supportive therapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy, relaxation techniques, stress management, resilience training, mindfulness, and online group therapy. Those therapies can be effective for stress-induced anxiety and dysphoria when pharmacotherapy is not available, and can provide patients with tools and techniques that can be implemented by the patients themselves in the absence of a physician or nurse practitioner to prescribe a medication.

Lessons learned

This pandemic has taught us many lessons: that life as we know it should not be taken for granted, and can change drastically overnight; that human life is fragile and can be destroyed rapidly and ruthlessly on an unimaginable scale by an invisible enemy; that scientific drug development research by the often maligned pharmaceutical industry is indispensable to our well-being; that policymakers must always prepare for the worst and must have a well-designed disaster plan; that modifying human behavior and full compliance with public health measures are vital and can be the most effective way to prevent the spread of catastrophic pandemics, viral or otherwise; that we must all learn how to be resilient to cope with solitude and restricted mobility or socialization; that the human ingenuity and innovation that created technologies to enable virtual connectivity among us, even when we are isolated, has been a lifesaver during health crises such as the COVID-19 pandemic; that the clinicians and health care workers treating highly infectious and desperately ill patients are genuine heroes who deserve our respect and gratitude; and that magnificent altruism outstrips and outshines the selfish hoarding and profiteering that may emerge during life-threatening pandemics.

And that we shall overcome this horrid pandemic, a ghastly tribulation that changed everything.

It was unthinkable, but it has happened. A virulent and invisible virus, 10 microns in size, with no vaccine or cure yet, shut down our nation, the third largest country in the world with 330 million people. Overnight, our thriving cities became ghost towns. Schools were closed. Millions of businesses, restaurants, and stores were abruptly shuttered. Sporting events were instantly canceled. Air travel came to a halt.

The largest economy in the world started to tank. Millions of people lost their jobs and were forced to stay home. The vital structures of society were dismantled. Our vibrant culture came to a screeching halt. It’s a nightmare scenario that even the most imaginative science fiction writers could not have envisioned. By any measure, the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic unraveled everything, and became a human catastrophe and a social calamity reminiscent of the deadly 1918 influenza pandemic, or the devastating plagues that decimated Europe during the Middle Ages.

The human toll in death and suffering was the real disaster. Emergency departments and hospitals filled up with victims of the scourge, sickly and unable to breathe as the virus hijacked their red blood cells and lungs, and destroyed their alveoli. Compounding the disaster was a lack of medical supplies. The country was clearly caught off-guard, completely unprepared for the scale of the pandemic and the massive onslaught of desperately ill people requiring intensive care and special equipment. In addition, health care staff became stretched beyond the limit, and entire hospitals were transformed overnight into highly specialized ICUs. Medical care for millions with non-COVID-19 conditions was put on hold so that vital resources could be diverted to the desperately ill victims of these infections. Many physicians, nurses, and respiratory therapists—laudable heroes—succumbed to the perverse virus exhaled by their patients.

Insidious social effects

COVID-19 is not only a murderer, but also a thief. It stole our Spring; our religious holidays (Easter and Passover); classroom education in schools and colleges; the Prom; weddings; graduation ceremonies; proper funerals; concerts; football, basketball, hockey, and baseball games; Broadway shows; and even data from animal research. More important, it robbed us of our peace of mind, our liberty, and our pursuit of small pleasures such as family gatherings or schmoozing with friends at a nice restaurant. COVID-19 is a cruel, dastardly scoundrel.

I write this editorial as I sit at home, which I have not left for several weeks, like hundreds of millions in our country and around the world. We were all glued to TV news or the internet to learn about the latest updates, including the grim news of those who got infected, hospitalized, or passed away. Fear of dying permeated all age groups, especially those who were older and infirmed.

Making it worse was the relentless uncertainty. When will it end? Gradually or suddenly? When is it going to be safe to go to work again, or to visit our loved ones and our friends? When can we see our patients face-to-face instead of remotely by phone or video conferencing? When can we have live meetings instead of virtual video conferences? When will stores open so we can shop? When can we take our children or grandchildren to a baseball game or a show? Will the virus return next winter for another cycle of mayhem and social paralysis? When will the economy start to rebound, and how long will that take? Will our retirement accounts recoup their losses? So many questions with no clear answers. A malignant uncertainty, indeed.

And there are our patients who live with anxiety and depression, whose anguish is intensifying as they sit alone in their apartments or homes, struggling to cope with this sudden, overwhelming stress. How will they react to this pandemic? Obviously, a life-threatening event such as a deadly pandemic with no cure is likely to produce an acute stress reaction and, ultimately, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). And if COVID-19 returns next year for another unwelcome visit, PTSD symptoms will get a booster shot and lead to severe anxiety, depression, or suicide. Psychiatrists and other mental health professionals, who were already stretched thin, must contend with another crisis that has destabilized millions of patients receiving psychiatric care, or new patients who seek help for themselves or their family members.

Continue to: One intervention that is emerging...

One intervention that is emerging on a large scale is online therapy. This includes reassurance and supportive therapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy, relaxation techniques, stress management, resilience training, mindfulness, and online group therapy. Those therapies can be effective for stress-induced anxiety and dysphoria when pharmacotherapy is not available, and can provide patients with tools and techniques that can be implemented by the patients themselves in the absence of a physician or nurse practitioner to prescribe a medication.

Lessons learned

This pandemic has taught us many lessons: that life as we know it should not be taken for granted, and can change drastically overnight; that human life is fragile and can be destroyed rapidly and ruthlessly on an unimaginable scale by an invisible enemy; that scientific drug development research by the often maligned pharmaceutical industry is indispensable to our well-being; that policymakers must always prepare for the worst and must have a well-designed disaster plan; that modifying human behavior and full compliance with public health measures are vital and can be the most effective way to prevent the spread of catastrophic pandemics, viral or otherwise; that we must all learn how to be resilient to cope with solitude and restricted mobility or socialization; that the human ingenuity and innovation that created technologies to enable virtual connectivity among us, even when we are isolated, has been a lifesaver during health crises such as the COVID-19 pandemic; that the clinicians and health care workers treating highly infectious and desperately ill patients are genuine heroes who deserve our respect and gratitude; and that magnificent altruism outstrips and outshines the selfish hoarding and profiteering that may emerge during life-threatening pandemics.

And that we shall overcome this horrid pandemic, a ghastly tribulation that changed everything.

It was unthinkable, but it has happened. A virulent and invisible virus, 10 microns in size, with no vaccine or cure yet, shut down our nation, the third largest country in the world with 330 million people. Overnight, our thriving cities became ghost towns. Schools were closed. Millions of businesses, restaurants, and stores were abruptly shuttered. Sporting events were instantly canceled. Air travel came to a halt.

The largest economy in the world started to tank. Millions of people lost their jobs and were forced to stay home. The vital structures of society were dismantled. Our vibrant culture came to a screeching halt. It’s a nightmare scenario that even the most imaginative science fiction writers could not have envisioned. By any measure, the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic unraveled everything, and became a human catastrophe and a social calamity reminiscent of the deadly 1918 influenza pandemic, or the devastating plagues that decimated Europe during the Middle Ages.

The human toll in death and suffering was the real disaster. Emergency departments and hospitals filled up with victims of the scourge, sickly and unable to breathe as the virus hijacked their red blood cells and lungs, and destroyed their alveoli. Compounding the disaster was a lack of medical supplies. The country was clearly caught off-guard, completely unprepared for the scale of the pandemic and the massive onslaught of desperately ill people requiring intensive care and special equipment. In addition, health care staff became stretched beyond the limit, and entire hospitals were transformed overnight into highly specialized ICUs. Medical care for millions with non-COVID-19 conditions was put on hold so that vital resources could be diverted to the desperately ill victims of these infections. Many physicians, nurses, and respiratory therapists—laudable heroes—succumbed to the perverse virus exhaled by their patients.

Insidious social effects

COVID-19 is not only a murderer, but also a thief. It stole our Spring; our religious holidays (Easter and Passover); classroom education in schools and colleges; the Prom; weddings; graduation ceremonies; proper funerals; concerts; football, basketball, hockey, and baseball games; Broadway shows; and even data from animal research. More important, it robbed us of our peace of mind, our liberty, and our pursuit of small pleasures such as family gatherings or schmoozing with friends at a nice restaurant. COVID-19 is a cruel, dastardly scoundrel.

I write this editorial as I sit at home, which I have not left for several weeks, like hundreds of millions in our country and around the world. We were all glued to TV news or the internet to learn about the latest updates, including the grim news of those who got infected, hospitalized, or passed away. Fear of dying permeated all age groups, especially those who were older and infirmed.

Making it worse was the relentless uncertainty. When will it end? Gradually or suddenly? When is it going to be safe to go to work again, or to visit our loved ones and our friends? When can we see our patients face-to-face instead of remotely by phone or video conferencing? When can we have live meetings instead of virtual video conferences? When will stores open so we can shop? When can we take our children or grandchildren to a baseball game or a show? Will the virus return next winter for another cycle of mayhem and social paralysis? When will the economy start to rebound, and how long will that take? Will our retirement accounts recoup their losses? So many questions with no clear answers. A malignant uncertainty, indeed.

And there are our patients who live with anxiety and depression, whose anguish is intensifying as they sit alone in their apartments or homes, struggling to cope with this sudden, overwhelming stress. How will they react to this pandemic? Obviously, a life-threatening event such as a deadly pandemic with no cure is likely to produce an acute stress reaction and, ultimately, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). And if COVID-19 returns next year for another unwelcome visit, PTSD symptoms will get a booster shot and lead to severe anxiety, depression, or suicide. Psychiatrists and other mental health professionals, who were already stretched thin, must contend with another crisis that has destabilized millions of patients receiving psychiatric care, or new patients who seek help for themselves or their family members.

Continue to: One intervention that is emerging...

One intervention that is emerging on a large scale is online therapy. This includes reassurance and supportive therapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy, relaxation techniques, stress management, resilience training, mindfulness, and online group therapy. Those therapies can be effective for stress-induced anxiety and dysphoria when pharmacotherapy is not available, and can provide patients with tools and techniques that can be implemented by the patients themselves in the absence of a physician or nurse practitioner to prescribe a medication.

Lessons learned

This pandemic has taught us many lessons: that life as we know it should not be taken for granted, and can change drastically overnight; that human life is fragile and can be destroyed rapidly and ruthlessly on an unimaginable scale by an invisible enemy; that scientific drug development research by the often maligned pharmaceutical industry is indispensable to our well-being; that policymakers must always prepare for the worst and must have a well-designed disaster plan; that modifying human behavior and full compliance with public health measures are vital and can be the most effective way to prevent the spread of catastrophic pandemics, viral or otherwise; that we must all learn how to be resilient to cope with solitude and restricted mobility or socialization; that the human ingenuity and innovation that created technologies to enable virtual connectivity among us, even when we are isolated, has been a lifesaver during health crises such as the COVID-19 pandemic; that the clinicians and health care workers treating highly infectious and desperately ill patients are genuine heroes who deserve our respect and gratitude; and that magnificent altruism outstrips and outshines the selfish hoarding and profiteering that may emerge during life-threatening pandemics.

And that we shall overcome this horrid pandemic, a ghastly tribulation that changed everything.

The coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic affects us in many ways. Pediatric patients, interestingly, are largely unaffected clinically by this disease. Less than 1% of documented infections occur in children under 10 years old, according to a review of over 72,000 cases from China.¹ In that review, most children were asymptomatic or had mild illness, only three required intensive care, and only one death had been reported as of March 10, 2020. This is in stark contrast to the shocking morbidity and mortality statistics we are becoming all too familiar with on the adult side.

From a social standpoint, however, our pediatric patients’ lives have been turned upside down. Their schedules and routines upended, their education and friendships interrupted, and many are likely experiencing real anxiety and fear.² For countless children, school is a major source of social, emotional, and nutritional support that has been cut off. Some will lose parents, grandparents, or other loved ones to this disease. Parents will lose jobs and will be unable to afford necessities. Pediatric patients will experience delays of procedures or treatments because of the pandemic. Some have projected that rates of child abuse will increase as has been reported during natural disasters.³

Pediatricians around the country are coming together to tackle these issues in creative ways, including the rapid expansion of virtual/telehealth programs. The school systems are developing strategies to deliver online content, and even food, to their students’ homes. Hopefully these tactics will mitigate some of the potential effects on the mental and physical well-being of these patients.

How about my kids? Will they be all right? I am lucky that my husband and I will have jobs throughout this ordeal. Unfortunately, given my role as a hospitalist and my husband’s as a pulmonary/critical care physician, these same jobs that will keep our kids nourished and supported pose the greatest threat to them. As health care workers, we are worried about protecting our families, which may include vulnerable members. The Spanish health ministry announced that medical professionals account for approximately one in eight documented COVID-19 infections in Spain.⁴ With inadequate supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) in our own nation, we are concerned that our statistics could be similar.

There are multiple strategies to protect ourselves and our families during this difficult time. First, appropriate PPE is essential and integrity with the process must be maintained always. Hospital leaders can protect us by tirelessly working to acquire PPE. In Grand Rapids, Mich., our health system has partnered with multiple local manufacturing companies, including Steelcase, who are producing PPE for our workforce.⁵ Leaders can diligently update their system’s PPE recommendations to be in line with the latest CDC recommendations and disseminate the information regularly. Hospitalists should frequently check with their Infection Prevention department to make sure they understand if there have been any changes to the recommendations. Innovative solutions for sterilization of PPE, stethoscopes, badges and other equipment, such as with the use of UV boxes or hydrogen peroxide vapor,⁶ should be explored to minimize contamination. Hospitalists should bring a set of clothes and shoes to change into upon arrival to work and to change out of prior to leaving the hospital.

We must also keep our heads strong. Currently the anxiety amongst physicians is palpable but there is solidarity. Hospital leaders must ensure that hospitalists have easy access to free mental health resources, such as virtual counseling. Wellness teams must rise to the occasion with innovative tactics to support us. For example, Spectrum Health’s wellness team is sponsoring a blog where physicians can discuss COVID-19–related challenges openly. Hospitalist leaders should ensure that there is a structure for debriefing after critical incidents, which are sure to increase in frequency. Email lists and discussion boards sponsored by professional society also provide a collaborative venue for some of these discussions. We must take advantage of these resources and communicate with each other.

For me, in the end it comes back to the kids. My kids and most pediatric patients are not likely to be hospitalized from COVID-19, but they are also not immune to the toll that fighting this pandemic will take on our families. We took an oath to protect our patients, but what do we owe to our own children? At a minimum we can optimize how we protect ourselves every day, both physically and mentally. As we come together as a strong community to fight this pandemic, in addition to saving lives, we are working to ensure that, in the end, the kids will be all right.
 

Dr. Hadley is chief of pediatric hospital medicine at Spectrum Health/Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids, Mich., and clinical assistant professor at Michigan State University, East Lansing.

References

1. Wu Z, McGoogan JM. Characteristics of and important lessons from the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak in China: Summary of a report of 72 314 cases from the Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention. JAMA. 2020 Feb 24. doi: 10.1001/jama.2020.2648.

2. Hagan JF Jr; American Academy of Pediatrics Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health; Task Force on Terrorism. Psychosocial implications of disaster or terrorism on children: A guide for the pediatrician. Pediatrics. 2005;116(3):787-795.

3. Gearhart S et al. The impact of natural disasters on domestic violence: An analysis of reports of simple assault in Florida (1997-2007). Violence Gend. 2018 Jun. doi: 10.1089/vio.2017.0077.

4. Minder R, Peltier E. Virus knocks thousands of health workers out of action in Europe. The New York Times. March 24, 2020.

5. McVicar B. West Michigan businesses hustle to produce medical supplies amid coronavirus pandemic. MLive. March 25, 2020.

6. Kenney PA et al. Hydrogen Peroxide Vapor sterilization of N95 respirators for reuse. medRxiv preprint. 2020 Mar. doi: 10.1101/2020.03.24.20041087.
 

The coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic affects us in many ways. Pediatric patients, interestingly, are largely unaffected clinically by this disease. Less than 1% of documented infections occur in children under 10 years old, according to a review of over 72,000 cases from China.¹ In that review, most children were asymptomatic or had mild illness, only three required intensive care, and only one death had been reported as of March 10, 2020. This is in stark contrast to the shocking morbidity and mortality statistics we are becoming all too familiar with on the adult side.

From a social standpoint, however, our pediatric patients’ lives have been turned upside down. Their schedules and routines upended, their education and friendships interrupted, and many are likely experiencing real anxiety and fear.² For countless children, school is a major source of social, emotional, and nutritional support that has been cut off. Some will lose parents, grandparents, or other loved ones to this disease. Parents will lose jobs and will be unable to afford necessities. Pediatric patients will experience delays of procedures or treatments because of the pandemic. Some have projected that rates of child abuse will increase as has been reported during natural disasters.³

Pediatricians around the country are coming together to tackle these issues in creative ways, including the rapid expansion of virtual/telehealth programs. The school systems are developing strategies to deliver online content, and even food, to their students’ homes. Hopefully these tactics will mitigate some of the potential effects on the mental and physical well-being of these patients.

How about my kids? Will they be all right? I am lucky that my husband and I will have jobs throughout this ordeal. Unfortunately, given my role as a hospitalist and my husband’s as a pulmonary/critical care physician, these same jobs that will keep our kids nourished and supported pose the greatest threat to them. As health care workers, we are worried about protecting our families, which may include vulnerable members. The Spanish health ministry announced that medical professionals account for approximately one in eight documented COVID-19 infections in Spain.⁴ With inadequate supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) in our own nation, we are concerned that our statistics could be similar.

There are multiple strategies to protect ourselves and our families during this difficult time. First, appropriate PPE is essential and integrity with the process must be maintained always. Hospital leaders can protect us by tirelessly working to acquire PPE. In Grand Rapids, Mich., our health system has partnered with multiple local manufacturing companies, including Steelcase, who are producing PPE for our workforce.⁵ Leaders can diligently update their system’s PPE recommendations to be in line with the latest CDC recommendations and disseminate the information regularly. Hospitalists should frequently check with their Infection Prevention department to make sure they understand if there have been any changes to the recommendations. Innovative solutions for sterilization of PPE, stethoscopes, badges and other equipment, such as with the use of UV boxes or hydrogen peroxide vapor,⁶ should be explored to minimize contamination. Hospitalists should bring a set of clothes and shoes to change into upon arrival to work and to change out of prior to leaving the hospital.

We must also keep our heads strong. Currently the anxiety amongst physicians is palpable but there is solidarity. Hospital leaders must ensure that hospitalists have easy access to free mental health resources, such as virtual counseling. Wellness teams must rise to the occasion with innovative tactics to support us. For example, Spectrum Health’s wellness team is sponsoring a blog where physicians can discuss COVID-19–related challenges openly. Hospitalist leaders should ensure that there is a structure for debriefing after critical incidents, which are sure to increase in frequency. Email lists and discussion boards sponsored by professional society also provide a collaborative venue for some of these discussions. We must take advantage of these resources and communicate with each other.

For me, in the end it comes back to the kids. My kids and most pediatric patients are not likely to be hospitalized from COVID-19, but they are also not immune to the toll that fighting this pandemic will take on our families. We took an oath to protect our patients, but what do we owe to our own children? At a minimum we can optimize how we protect ourselves every day, both physically and mentally. As we come together as a strong community to fight this pandemic, in addition to saving lives, we are working to ensure that, in the end, the kids will be all right.
 

Dr. Hadley is chief of pediatric hospital medicine at Spectrum Health/Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids, Mich., and clinical assistant professor at Michigan State University, East Lansing.

References

1. Wu Z, McGoogan JM. Characteristics of and important lessons from the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak in China: Summary of a report of 72 314 cases from the Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention. JAMA. 2020 Feb 24. doi: 10.1001/jama.2020.2648.

2. Hagan JF Jr; American Academy of Pediatrics Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health; Task Force on Terrorism. Psychosocial implications of disaster or terrorism on children: A guide for the pediatrician. Pediatrics. 2005;116(3):787-795.

3. Gearhart S et al. The impact of natural disasters on domestic violence: An analysis of reports of simple assault in Florida (1997-2007). Violence Gend. 2018 Jun. doi: 10.1089/vio.2017.0077.

4. Minder R, Peltier E. Virus knocks thousands of health workers out of action in Europe. The New York Times. March 24, 2020.

5. McVicar B. West Michigan businesses hustle to produce medical supplies amid coronavirus pandemic. MLive. March 25, 2020.

6. Kenney PA et al. Hydrogen Peroxide Vapor sterilization of N95 respirators for reuse. medRxiv preprint. 2020 Mar. doi: 10.1101/2020.03.24.20041087.
 

The coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic affects us in many ways. Pediatric patients, interestingly, are largely unaffected clinically by this disease. Less than 1% of documented infections occur in children under 10 years old, according to a review of over 72,000 cases from China.¹ In that review, most children were asymptomatic or had mild illness, only three required intensive care, and only one death had been reported as of March 10, 2020. This is in stark contrast to the shocking morbidity and mortality statistics we are becoming all too familiar with on the adult side.

From a social standpoint, however, our pediatric patients’ lives have been turned upside down. Their schedules and routines upended, their education and friendships interrupted, and many are likely experiencing real anxiety and fear.² For countless children, school is a major source of social, emotional, and nutritional support that has been cut off. Some will lose parents, grandparents, or other loved ones to this disease. Parents will lose jobs and will be unable to afford necessities. Pediatric patients will experience delays of procedures or treatments because of the pandemic. Some have projected that rates of child abuse will increase as has been reported during natural disasters.³

Pediatricians around the country are coming together to tackle these issues in creative ways, including the rapid expansion of virtual/telehealth programs. The school systems are developing strategies to deliver online content, and even food, to their students’ homes. Hopefully these tactics will mitigate some of the potential effects on the mental and physical well-being of these patients.

How about my kids? Will they be all right? I am lucky that my husband and I will have jobs throughout this ordeal. Unfortunately, given my role as a hospitalist and my husband’s as a pulmonary/critical care physician, these same jobs that will keep our kids nourished and supported pose the greatest threat to them. As health care workers, we are worried about protecting our families, which may include vulnerable members. The Spanish health ministry announced that medical professionals account for approximately one in eight documented COVID-19 infections in Spain.⁴ With inadequate supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) in our own nation, we are concerned that our statistics could be similar.

There are multiple strategies to protect ourselves and our families during this difficult time. First, appropriate PPE is essential and integrity with the process must be maintained always. Hospital leaders can protect us by tirelessly working to acquire PPE. In Grand Rapids, Mich., our health system has partnered with multiple local manufacturing companies, including Steelcase, who are producing PPE for our workforce.⁵ Leaders can diligently update their system’s PPE recommendations to be in line with the latest CDC recommendations and disseminate the information regularly. Hospitalists should frequently check with their Infection Prevention department to make sure they understand if there have been any changes to the recommendations. Innovative solutions for sterilization of PPE, stethoscopes, badges and other equipment, such as with the use of UV boxes or hydrogen peroxide vapor,⁶ should be explored to minimize contamination. Hospitalists should bring a set of clothes and shoes to change into upon arrival to work and to change out of prior to leaving the hospital.

We must also keep our heads strong. Currently the anxiety amongst physicians is palpable but there is solidarity. Hospital leaders must ensure that hospitalists have easy access to free mental health resources, such as virtual counseling. Wellness teams must rise to the occasion with innovative tactics to support us. For example, Spectrum Health’s wellness team is sponsoring a blog where physicians can discuss COVID-19–related challenges openly. Hospitalist leaders should ensure that there is a structure for debriefing after critical incidents, which are sure to increase in frequency. Email lists and discussion boards sponsored by professional society also provide a collaborative venue for some of these discussions. We must take advantage of these resources and communicate with each other.

For me, in the end it comes back to the kids. My kids and most pediatric patients are not likely to be hospitalized from COVID-19, but they are also not immune to the toll that fighting this pandemic will take on our families. We took an oath to protect our patients, but what do we owe to our own children? At a minimum we can optimize how we protect ourselves every day, both physically and mentally. As we come together as a strong community to fight this pandemic, in addition to saving lives, we are working to ensure that, in the end, the kids will be all right.
 

Dr. Hadley is chief of pediatric hospital medicine at Spectrum Health/Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids, Mich., and clinical assistant professor at Michigan State University, East Lansing.

References

1. Wu Z, McGoogan JM. Characteristics of and important lessons from the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak in China: Summary of a report of 72 314 cases from the Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention. JAMA. 2020 Feb 24. doi: 10.1001/jama.2020.2648.

2. Hagan JF Jr; American Academy of Pediatrics Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health; Task Force on Terrorism. Psychosocial implications of disaster or terrorism on children: A guide for the pediatrician. Pediatrics. 2005;116(3):787-795.

3. Gearhart S et al. The impact of natural disasters on domestic violence: An analysis of reports of simple assault in Florida (1997-2007). Violence Gend. 2018 Jun. doi: 10.1089/vio.2017.0077.

4. Minder R, Peltier E. Virus knocks thousands of health workers out of action in Europe. The New York Times. March 24, 2020.

5. McVicar B. West Michigan businesses hustle to produce medical supplies amid coronavirus pandemic. MLive. March 25, 2020.

6. Kenney PA et al. Hydrogen Peroxide Vapor sterilization of N95 respirators for reuse. medRxiv preprint. 2020 Mar. doi: 10.1101/2020.03.24.20041087.