Dermatology News

Competition between five biologic drugs and their skinny-label biosimilars saved Medicare an estimated $1.5 billion during 2015-2020. But these savings accruing to Medicare and the availability of those and other biosimilars through skinny labeling is under threat from recent court rulings, according to a research letter published online in JAMA Internal Medicine.

The authors highlighted the need for such savings by noting that, while biologics comprise less than 5% of prescription drug use, their price tag amounts to about 40% of U.S. drug spending, Biologic manufacturers often delay the availability of biosimilars for additional years beyond the original patent expiration through further patents for supplemental indications. To provide a counterbalance, federal law allows the Food and Drug Administration to approve “skinny-label” generics and biosimilars that carve out patent-protected indications or regulatory exclusivities. But once a generic drug reaches the market through this process with a skinny label, it may often be substituted for indications that go beyond the ones listed on the skinny label. In fact, some state laws mandate that pharmacists substitute interchangeable generics for brand-name drugs, helping to decrease drug prices. In response to legal threats to the skinny-label pathway, Alexander C. Egilman and colleagues at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, assessed the frequency of approval and marketing of skinny-label biosimilars from 2015 to 2021 and the resultant savings to Medicare.

TheaDesign/Thinkstock

The authors estimated annual Part B (clinician-administered) savings from skinny-label biosimilars through 2020 by comparing actual biologic and skinny-label biosimilar spending with estimated biologic spending without competition using the Medicare Dashboard. They assumed that the unit price of the biologic would increase at its 5-year compound annual growth rate prior to competition.

In that period, the FDA approved 33 biosimilars linked to 11 biologics. Among them, 22 (66.7%) had a skinny label. Of 21 biosimilars marketed before 2022, 13 (61.9%) were launched with a skinny label. Of the 8 biologics linked to these 21 biosimilars, 5 of the first-to-market biosimilars had skinny labels (bevacizumab, filgrastim, infliximab, pegfilgrastim, and rituximab), leading to earlier competition through 2021.

The estimated $1.5 billion in savings to Medicare from these skinny-label biosimilars over the 2015-2020 span represents 4.9% of the $30.2 billion that Medicare spent on the five biologics during this period. The researchers pointed out that once adalimumab (Humira) faces skinny-label biosimilar competition in 2023, savings will likely grow substantially.

In response to the research letter, an editor’s note by JAMA Internal Medicine Editorial Fellow Eric Ward, MD, and JAMA Internal Medicine Editor at Large and Online Editor Robert Steinbrook, MD, stated that, between 2015 and 2019, 24 (43%) of 56 brand-name drugs had competition from skinny-labeled generic formulations after first becoming available as generics.

The editors also referenced a JAMA Viewpoints article from 2021 that reviewed the most recent case challenging the skinny-label pathway in which GlaxoSmithKline sued Teva for its marketing of a skinny-label generic of the brand-name beta-blocker carvedilol (Coreg) that the plaintive claimed “induced physicians to prescribe carvedilol for indications that had been carved out by Teva’s skinny label, thus infringing GlaxoSmithKline’s patents.” A $235 million judgment against Teva was overturned by a district court and then reversed again by a Federal Circuit court that, after receiving criticism, reconsidered the case, and a panel affirmed the judgment against Teva.

“The Federal Circuit panel’s decision has the potential to put generic drugs that fail to adequately carve out indications from the brand name labeling at risk for damages related to infringement,” the authors wrote. Similar claims of infringement are being heard in other courts, they wrote, and they urged careful targeting of skinny-label carveouts, and suggest also that challenges to the arguments used against Teva focus on preservation of First Amendment rights as protection for lawful and accurate speech in drug labels.

“The legal uncertainties are likely to continue, as manufacturers pursue novel and complex strategies to protect the patents and regulatory exclusivities of brand-name drugs and biologics,” Dr. Ward and Dr. Steinbrook wrote, adding that “the path forward is for Congress to enact additional legislation that reaffirms and strengthens the permissibility of skinny labeling.”

The research letter’s corresponding author, Ameet Sarpatwari, PhD, JD, assistant professor at Harvard Medical School, and assistant director for the Harvard Program On Regulation, Therapeutics, And Law, echoed concerns over the Teva case in an interview. “There has certainly been concern that should the appellate decision stand, there will be a chilling effect. As the lone dissenter in that case noted, ‘no skinny-label generic is safe.’ I think many generic and biosimilar manufacturers are awaiting to see whether the Supreme Court will take the case.”

He added: “I do not believe the likelihood of skinny-label-supportive legislation making it through Congress will be greatly diminished in a divided Congress. Democrats and Republicans alike should seek to promote competition in the marketplace, which is what the skinny-labeling pathway accomplishes.”

The authors reported no relevant conflicts of interest. The research was funded by a grant from Arnold Ventures.

Competition between five biologic drugs and their skinny-label biosimilars saved Medicare an estimated $1.5 billion during 2015-2020. But these savings accruing to Medicare and the availability of those and other biosimilars through skinny labeling is under threat from recent court rulings, according to a research letter published online in JAMA Internal Medicine.

The authors highlighted the need for such savings by noting that, while biologics comprise less than 5% of prescription drug use, their price tag amounts to about 40% of U.S. drug spending, Biologic manufacturers often delay the availability of biosimilars for additional years beyond the original patent expiration through further patents for supplemental indications. To provide a counterbalance, federal law allows the Food and Drug Administration to approve “skinny-label” generics and biosimilars that carve out patent-protected indications or regulatory exclusivities. But once a generic drug reaches the market through this process with a skinny label, it may often be substituted for indications that go beyond the ones listed on the skinny label. In fact, some state laws mandate that pharmacists substitute interchangeable generics for brand-name drugs, helping to decrease drug prices. In response to legal threats to the skinny-label pathway, Alexander C. Egilman and colleagues at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, assessed the frequency of approval and marketing of skinny-label biosimilars from 2015 to 2021 and the resultant savings to Medicare.

TheaDesign/Thinkstock

The authors estimated annual Part B (clinician-administered) savings from skinny-label biosimilars through 2020 by comparing actual biologic and skinny-label biosimilar spending with estimated biologic spending without competition using the Medicare Dashboard. They assumed that the unit price of the biologic would increase at its 5-year compound annual growth rate prior to competition.

In that period, the FDA approved 33 biosimilars linked to 11 biologics. Among them, 22 (66.7%) had a skinny label. Of 21 biosimilars marketed before 2022, 13 (61.9%) were launched with a skinny label. Of the 8 biologics linked to these 21 biosimilars, 5 of the first-to-market biosimilars had skinny labels (bevacizumab, filgrastim, infliximab, pegfilgrastim, and rituximab), leading to earlier competition through 2021.

The estimated $1.5 billion in savings to Medicare from these skinny-label biosimilars over the 2015-2020 span represents 4.9% of the $30.2 billion that Medicare spent on the five biologics during this period. The researchers pointed out that once adalimumab (Humira) faces skinny-label biosimilar competition in 2023, savings will likely grow substantially.

In response to the research letter, an editor’s note by JAMA Internal Medicine Editorial Fellow Eric Ward, MD, and JAMA Internal Medicine Editor at Large and Online Editor Robert Steinbrook, MD, stated that, between 2015 and 2019, 24 (43%) of 56 brand-name drugs had competition from skinny-labeled generic formulations after first becoming available as generics.

The editors also referenced a JAMA Viewpoints article from 2021 that reviewed the most recent case challenging the skinny-label pathway in which GlaxoSmithKline sued Teva for its marketing of a skinny-label generic of the brand-name beta-blocker carvedilol (Coreg) that the plaintive claimed “induced physicians to prescribe carvedilol for indications that had been carved out by Teva’s skinny label, thus infringing GlaxoSmithKline’s patents.” A $235 million judgment against Teva was overturned by a district court and then reversed again by a Federal Circuit court that, after receiving criticism, reconsidered the case, and a panel affirmed the judgment against Teva.

“The Federal Circuit panel’s decision has the potential to put generic drugs that fail to adequately carve out indications from the brand name labeling at risk for damages related to infringement,” the authors wrote. Similar claims of infringement are being heard in other courts, they wrote, and they urged careful targeting of skinny-label carveouts, and suggest also that challenges to the arguments used against Teva focus on preservation of First Amendment rights as protection for lawful and accurate speech in drug labels.

“The legal uncertainties are likely to continue, as manufacturers pursue novel and complex strategies to protect the patents and regulatory exclusivities of brand-name drugs and biologics,” Dr. Ward and Dr. Steinbrook wrote, adding that “the path forward is for Congress to enact additional legislation that reaffirms and strengthens the permissibility of skinny labeling.”

The research letter’s corresponding author, Ameet Sarpatwari, PhD, JD, assistant professor at Harvard Medical School, and assistant director for the Harvard Program On Regulation, Therapeutics, And Law, echoed concerns over the Teva case in an interview. “There has certainly been concern that should the appellate decision stand, there will be a chilling effect. As the lone dissenter in that case noted, ‘no skinny-label generic is safe.’ I think many generic and biosimilar manufacturers are awaiting to see whether the Supreme Court will take the case.”

He added: “I do not believe the likelihood of skinny-label-supportive legislation making it through Congress will be greatly diminished in a divided Congress. Democrats and Republicans alike should seek to promote competition in the marketplace, which is what the skinny-labeling pathway accomplishes.”

The authors reported no relevant conflicts of interest. The research was funded by a grant from Arnold Ventures.

Competition between five biologic drugs and their skinny-label biosimilars saved Medicare an estimated $1.5 billion during 2015-2020. But these savings accruing to Medicare and the availability of those and other biosimilars through skinny labeling is under threat from recent court rulings, according to a research letter published online in JAMA Internal Medicine.

The authors highlighted the need for such savings by noting that, while biologics comprise less than 5% of prescription drug use, their price tag amounts to about 40% of U.S. drug spending, Biologic manufacturers often delay the availability of biosimilars for additional years beyond the original patent expiration through further patents for supplemental indications. To provide a counterbalance, federal law allows the Food and Drug Administration to approve “skinny-label” generics and biosimilars that carve out patent-protected indications or regulatory exclusivities. But once a generic drug reaches the market through this process with a skinny label, it may often be substituted for indications that go beyond the ones listed on the skinny label. In fact, some state laws mandate that pharmacists substitute interchangeable generics for brand-name drugs, helping to decrease drug prices. In response to legal threats to the skinny-label pathway, Alexander C. Egilman and colleagues at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, assessed the frequency of approval and marketing of skinny-label biosimilars from 2015 to 2021 and the resultant savings to Medicare.

TheaDesign/Thinkstock

The authors estimated annual Part B (clinician-administered) savings from skinny-label biosimilars through 2020 by comparing actual biologic and skinny-label biosimilar spending with estimated biologic spending without competition using the Medicare Dashboard. They assumed that the unit price of the biologic would increase at its 5-year compound annual growth rate prior to competition.

In that period, the FDA approved 33 biosimilars linked to 11 biologics. Among them, 22 (66.7%) had a skinny label. Of 21 biosimilars marketed before 2022, 13 (61.9%) were launched with a skinny label. Of the 8 biologics linked to these 21 biosimilars, 5 of the first-to-market biosimilars had skinny labels (bevacizumab, filgrastim, infliximab, pegfilgrastim, and rituximab), leading to earlier competition through 2021.

The estimated $1.5 billion in savings to Medicare from these skinny-label biosimilars over the 2015-2020 span represents 4.9% of the $30.2 billion that Medicare spent on the five biologics during this period. The researchers pointed out that once adalimumab (Humira) faces skinny-label biosimilar competition in 2023, savings will likely grow substantially.

In response to the research letter, an editor’s note by JAMA Internal Medicine Editorial Fellow Eric Ward, MD, and JAMA Internal Medicine Editor at Large and Online Editor Robert Steinbrook, MD, stated that, between 2015 and 2019, 24 (43%) of 56 brand-name drugs had competition from skinny-labeled generic formulations after first becoming available as generics.

The editors also referenced a JAMA Viewpoints article from 2021 that reviewed the most recent case challenging the skinny-label pathway in which GlaxoSmithKline sued Teva for its marketing of a skinny-label generic of the brand-name beta-blocker carvedilol (Coreg) that the plaintive claimed “induced physicians to prescribe carvedilol for indications that had been carved out by Teva’s skinny label, thus infringing GlaxoSmithKline’s patents.” A $235 million judgment against Teva was overturned by a district court and then reversed again by a Federal Circuit court that, after receiving criticism, reconsidered the case, and a panel affirmed the judgment against Teva.

“The Federal Circuit panel’s decision has the potential to put generic drugs that fail to adequately carve out indications from the brand name labeling at risk for damages related to infringement,” the authors wrote. Similar claims of infringement are being heard in other courts, they wrote, and they urged careful targeting of skinny-label carveouts, and suggest also that challenges to the arguments used against Teva focus on preservation of First Amendment rights as protection for lawful and accurate speech in drug labels.

“The legal uncertainties are likely to continue, as manufacturers pursue novel and complex strategies to protect the patents and regulatory exclusivities of brand-name drugs and biologics,” Dr. Ward and Dr. Steinbrook wrote, adding that “the path forward is for Congress to enact additional legislation that reaffirms and strengthens the permissibility of skinny labeling.”

The research letter’s corresponding author, Ameet Sarpatwari, PhD, JD, assistant professor at Harvard Medical School, and assistant director for the Harvard Program On Regulation, Therapeutics, And Law, echoed concerns over the Teva case in an interview. “There has certainly been concern that should the appellate decision stand, there will be a chilling effect. As the lone dissenter in that case noted, ‘no skinny-label generic is safe.’ I think many generic and biosimilar manufacturers are awaiting to see whether the Supreme Court will take the case.”

He added: “I do not believe the likelihood of skinny-label-supportive legislation making it through Congress will be greatly diminished in a divided Congress. Democrats and Republicans alike should seek to promote competition in the marketplace, which is what the skinny-labeling pathway accomplishes.”

The authors reported no relevant conflicts of interest. The research was funded by a grant from Arnold Ventures.

While having proper indoor ventilation is recognized as a way to reduce the spread of COVID-19, a new study from MIT says maintaining the proper relative humidity in indoor spaces like your residence might help keep you healthy.

The “sweet spot” associated with reduced COVID-19 cases and deaths is 40%-60% indoor relative humidity, an MIT news release said. People who maintained indoor relative humidity outside those parameters had higher rates of catching COVID-19. 

Most people are comfortable with 30%-50% relative humidity, researchers said. An airplane cabin has about 20% relative humidity.

Relative humidity is the amount of moisture in the air, compared with the total moisture the air can hold at a given temperature before saturating and forming condensation.

The study was published in The Journal of the Royal Society Interface. Researchers examined COVID-19 data and meteorological measurements from 121 countries from January 2020 through August 2020, before vaccines became available to the public. 

“When outdoor temperatures were below the typical human comfort range, they assumed indoor spaces were heated to reach that comfort range. Based on the added heating, they calculated the associated drop in indoor relative humidity,” the MIT news release said.

The research teams found that when a region reported a rise in COVID-19 cases and deaths, the region’s estimated indoor relative humidity was either lower than 40% or higher than 60%, the release said. 

“There’s potentially a protective effect of this intermediate indoor relative humidity,” said Connor Verheyen, the lead author and a PhD student in medical engineering and medical physics in the Harvard-MIT Program in Health Sciences and Technology.

Widespread use of the 40%-60% indoor humidity range could reduce the need for lockdowns and other widespread restrictions, the study concluded.

“Unlike measures that depend on individual compliance (for example, masking or hand-washing), indoor RH optimization would achieve high compliance because all occupants of a common indoor space would be exposed to similar ambient conditions,” the study said. “Compared to the long timelines and high costs of vaccine production and distribution, humidity control systems could potentially be implemented more quickly and cheaply in certain indoor settings.”

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

While having proper indoor ventilation is recognized as a way to reduce the spread of COVID-19, a new study from MIT says maintaining the proper relative humidity in indoor spaces like your residence might help keep you healthy.

The “sweet spot” associated with reduced COVID-19 cases and deaths is 40%-60% indoor relative humidity, an MIT news release said. People who maintained indoor relative humidity outside those parameters had higher rates of catching COVID-19. 

Most people are comfortable with 30%-50% relative humidity, researchers said. An airplane cabin has about 20% relative humidity.

Relative humidity is the amount of moisture in the air, compared with the total moisture the air can hold at a given temperature before saturating and forming condensation.

The study was published in The Journal of the Royal Society Interface. Researchers examined COVID-19 data and meteorological measurements from 121 countries from January 2020 through August 2020, before vaccines became available to the public. 

“When outdoor temperatures were below the typical human comfort range, they assumed indoor spaces were heated to reach that comfort range. Based on the added heating, they calculated the associated drop in indoor relative humidity,” the MIT news release said.

The research teams found that when a region reported a rise in COVID-19 cases and deaths, the region’s estimated indoor relative humidity was either lower than 40% or higher than 60%, the release said. 

“There’s potentially a protective effect of this intermediate indoor relative humidity,” said Connor Verheyen, the lead author and a PhD student in medical engineering and medical physics in the Harvard-MIT Program in Health Sciences and Technology.

Widespread use of the 40%-60% indoor humidity range could reduce the need for lockdowns and other widespread restrictions, the study concluded.

“Unlike measures that depend on individual compliance (for example, masking or hand-washing), indoor RH optimization would achieve high compliance because all occupants of a common indoor space would be exposed to similar ambient conditions,” the study said. “Compared to the long timelines and high costs of vaccine production and distribution, humidity control systems could potentially be implemented more quickly and cheaply in certain indoor settings.”

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

While having proper indoor ventilation is recognized as a way to reduce the spread of COVID-19, a new study from MIT says maintaining the proper relative humidity in indoor spaces like your residence might help keep you healthy.

The “sweet spot” associated with reduced COVID-19 cases and deaths is 40%-60% indoor relative humidity, an MIT news release said. People who maintained indoor relative humidity outside those parameters had higher rates of catching COVID-19. 

Most people are comfortable with 30%-50% relative humidity, researchers said. An airplane cabin has about 20% relative humidity.

Relative humidity is the amount of moisture in the air, compared with the total moisture the air can hold at a given temperature before saturating and forming condensation.

The study was published in The Journal of the Royal Society Interface. Researchers examined COVID-19 data and meteorological measurements from 121 countries from January 2020 through August 2020, before vaccines became available to the public. 

“When outdoor temperatures were below the typical human comfort range, they assumed indoor spaces were heated to reach that comfort range. Based on the added heating, they calculated the associated drop in indoor relative humidity,” the MIT news release said.

The research teams found that when a region reported a rise in COVID-19 cases and deaths, the region’s estimated indoor relative humidity was either lower than 40% or higher than 60%, the release said. 

“There’s potentially a protective effect of this intermediate indoor relative humidity,” said Connor Verheyen, the lead author and a PhD student in medical engineering and medical physics in the Harvard-MIT Program in Health Sciences and Technology.

Widespread use of the 40%-60% indoor humidity range could reduce the need for lockdowns and other widespread restrictions, the study concluded.

“Unlike measures that depend on individual compliance (for example, masking or hand-washing), indoor RH optimization would achieve high compliance because all occupants of a common indoor space would be exposed to similar ambient conditions,” the study said. “Compared to the long timelines and high costs of vaccine production and distribution, humidity control systems could potentially be implemented more quickly and cheaply in certain indoor settings.”

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

The calendar year 2022 has been especially good for advancing acne-focused laser and light devices, most recently with the Food and Drug Administration clearance of the Accure Laser System in late November, for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

This was preceded by the FDA clearance of AviClear, marketed by Cutera, in March, and the commercial launch of TheraClearX, marketed by StrataSkin, in July.

“It’s an exciting time to be working with acne,” Fernanda H. Sakamoto, MD, PhD, a dermatologist at the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston. “We’ll see a lot of people using new devices. I’m looking forward to seeing results in the long term.”

AviClear and the Accure Laser System, marketed by Accure, are both powered by a 1,726-nm laser, but they work differently. AviClear, which was cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, has a maximum fluence of 30 J/cm² in single-pulse mode and a maximum fluence of 20 J/cm² in double-pulse mode. The treatment handpiece has an integrated scanner for delivering treatment spot(s) in an operator-selected pattern. “It’s a little bit lower powered than the Accure and has a maximum pulse energy of 5 joules and a pulse duration of up to 50 milliseconds,” Dr. Sakamoto said. In the treatment of acne, laser and light treatments target the sebaceous gland.

In pivotal data submitted to the FDA, 104 patients with acne who were enrolled at 7 U.S. sites received 304 treatments with AviClear spaced 2-5 weeks apart. Each treatment took about 30 minutes. Treatment success was defined as having at least 50% fewer inflammatory acne lesions 12 weeks after the final treatment visit, compared with baseline. At the week 4 follow-up visit, there were median and mean reductions of 42% and 37%, respectively, in the inflammatory lesion counts from baseline (P < .001). The researchers found that, at the week 4 follow-up visit, 36% of patients had achieved treatment success, which increased to 78% at the 12-week follow-up visit. Treatment was considered safe and tolerable, according to the manufacturer.

The other newcomer device with a 1,726-nm wavelength is the Accure Laser System, which features a smart laser handpiece for real-time thermal monitoring and precise delivery of laser emissions. The device received CE Mark approval in 2020 for the treatment of moderate acne, and on Nov. 22, 2022, the manufacturer announced that it had been cleared by the FDA for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

Dr. Sakamoto and her Wellman colleagues have been working with five dermatologists to conduct clinical trials of the device: Emil Tanghetti, MD, and Mitchel Goldman, MD, in California; Roy Geronemus, MD, in New York; Joel Cohen, MD, in Colorado; and Daniel Friedmann, MD, in Texas. As of Oct. 2, 2022, more than 50 patients with mild to severe acne were enrolled in four studies and an additional 30 were enrolled in a pilot facial acne trial, Dr. Sakamoto said. In the trials, patients are followed at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment.

Among patients enrolled in the facial acne trial, researchers have observed a 100% responder rate for patients with more than five acne lesions at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment after four monthly treatment sessions. The average lesion reduction at week 12 was 82% and the mean visual analog scale score immediately after treatment was 2.09 out of 10. Each patient received more than 12,000 trigger pulls of energy from the device overall with no adverse events reported. At 12 months, they observed a 90% inflammatory lesion count reduction from baseline and a rapid response to treatment: a 73% reduction achieved after the first two treatment sessions. Histologic studies revealed selective sebaceous gland destruction with no damage to the epidermis, surrounding dermis, or other skin structures.

Dr. Sakamoto emphasized that to date no direct clinical comparisons have been made between the AviClear and Accure devices. “Are all 1,726-nm lasers made equal? That is a question that we have to keep in our mind,” she said during the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center for Photomedicine. “They are using the same wavelength, but they are different types of lasers.”

For example, the Accure Laser treats to temperature, relies on air cooling, and is targeted to dermatologists and plastic surgeons, while the AviClear treats to fluence, relies on contact cooling, and includes med spas and other nonphysician providers as the target users. “Mathematically, the difference between the two devices is that the Accure can achieve deeper penetration in a single pulse, while the AviClear is a little more superficial,” she said. “Whether that is translated clinically is unknown at this point.”

Dr. Sakamoto also discussed the TheraClearX, which is FDA cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, including comedonal, pustular, and inflammatory acne vulgaris. The device, which is a new version of the Palomar Acleara, uses a vacuum technique with up to 3 psi pressure in conjunction with broadband light with a wavelength spectrum of 500 nm–1,200 nm delivered through a liquid-cooled, handheld delivery system. The predicate device was the Aesthera Isolaz System. The vacuum extracts buildup of sebaceous material. “At the same time, it takes the blood out of the competing chromophore,” she said. “By doing so, it potentially damages the sebaceous glands and reduces the inflammatory lesions.”

Dr. Sakamoto disclosed that she is the founder of and science advisor for Lightwater Bioscience. She is also a science advisor for Accure Acne and has received portions of patent royalties from Massachusetts General Hospital.

The calendar year 2022 has been especially good for advancing acne-focused laser and light devices, most recently with the Food and Drug Administration clearance of the Accure Laser System in late November, for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

This was preceded by the FDA clearance of AviClear, marketed by Cutera, in March, and the commercial launch of TheraClearX, marketed by StrataSkin, in July.

“It’s an exciting time to be working with acne,” Fernanda H. Sakamoto, MD, PhD, a dermatologist at the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston. “We’ll see a lot of people using new devices. I’m looking forward to seeing results in the long term.”

AviClear and the Accure Laser System, marketed by Accure, are both powered by a 1,726-nm laser, but they work differently. AviClear, which was cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, has a maximum fluence of 30 J/cm² in single-pulse mode and a maximum fluence of 20 J/cm² in double-pulse mode. The treatment handpiece has an integrated scanner for delivering treatment spot(s) in an operator-selected pattern. “It’s a little bit lower powered than the Accure and has a maximum pulse energy of 5 joules and a pulse duration of up to 50 milliseconds,” Dr. Sakamoto said. In the treatment of acne, laser and light treatments target the sebaceous gland.

In pivotal data submitted to the FDA, 104 patients with acne who were enrolled at 7 U.S. sites received 304 treatments with AviClear spaced 2-5 weeks apart. Each treatment took about 30 minutes. Treatment success was defined as having at least 50% fewer inflammatory acne lesions 12 weeks after the final treatment visit, compared with baseline. At the week 4 follow-up visit, there were median and mean reductions of 42% and 37%, respectively, in the inflammatory lesion counts from baseline (P < .001). The researchers found that, at the week 4 follow-up visit, 36% of patients had achieved treatment success, which increased to 78% at the 12-week follow-up visit. Treatment was considered safe and tolerable, according to the manufacturer.

The other newcomer device with a 1,726-nm wavelength is the Accure Laser System, which features a smart laser handpiece for real-time thermal monitoring and precise delivery of laser emissions. The device received CE Mark approval in 2020 for the treatment of moderate acne, and on Nov. 22, 2022, the manufacturer announced that it had been cleared by the FDA for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

Dr. Sakamoto and her Wellman colleagues have been working with five dermatologists to conduct clinical trials of the device: Emil Tanghetti, MD, and Mitchel Goldman, MD, in California; Roy Geronemus, MD, in New York; Joel Cohen, MD, in Colorado; and Daniel Friedmann, MD, in Texas. As of Oct. 2, 2022, more than 50 patients with mild to severe acne were enrolled in four studies and an additional 30 were enrolled in a pilot facial acne trial, Dr. Sakamoto said. In the trials, patients are followed at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment.

Among patients enrolled in the facial acne trial, researchers have observed a 100% responder rate for patients with more than five acne lesions at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment after four monthly treatment sessions. The average lesion reduction at week 12 was 82% and the mean visual analog scale score immediately after treatment was 2.09 out of 10. Each patient received more than 12,000 trigger pulls of energy from the device overall with no adverse events reported. At 12 months, they observed a 90% inflammatory lesion count reduction from baseline and a rapid response to treatment: a 73% reduction achieved after the first two treatment sessions. Histologic studies revealed selective sebaceous gland destruction with no damage to the epidermis, surrounding dermis, or other skin structures.

Dr. Sakamoto emphasized that to date no direct clinical comparisons have been made between the AviClear and Accure devices. “Are all 1,726-nm lasers made equal? That is a question that we have to keep in our mind,” she said during the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center for Photomedicine. “They are using the same wavelength, but they are different types of lasers.”

For example, the Accure Laser treats to temperature, relies on air cooling, and is targeted to dermatologists and plastic surgeons, while the AviClear treats to fluence, relies on contact cooling, and includes med spas and other nonphysician providers as the target users. “Mathematically, the difference between the two devices is that the Accure can achieve deeper penetration in a single pulse, while the AviClear is a little more superficial,” she said. “Whether that is translated clinically is unknown at this point.”

Dr. Sakamoto also discussed the TheraClearX, which is FDA cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, including comedonal, pustular, and inflammatory acne vulgaris. The device, which is a new version of the Palomar Acleara, uses a vacuum technique with up to 3 psi pressure in conjunction with broadband light with a wavelength spectrum of 500 nm–1,200 nm delivered through a liquid-cooled, handheld delivery system. The predicate device was the Aesthera Isolaz System. The vacuum extracts buildup of sebaceous material. “At the same time, it takes the blood out of the competing chromophore,” she said. “By doing so, it potentially damages the sebaceous glands and reduces the inflammatory lesions.”

Dr. Sakamoto disclosed that she is the founder of and science advisor for Lightwater Bioscience. She is also a science advisor for Accure Acne and has received portions of patent royalties from Massachusetts General Hospital.

The calendar year 2022 has been especially good for advancing acne-focused laser and light devices, most recently with the Food and Drug Administration clearance of the Accure Laser System in late November, for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

This was preceded by the FDA clearance of AviClear, marketed by Cutera, in March, and the commercial launch of TheraClearX, marketed by StrataSkin, in July.

“It’s an exciting time to be working with acne,” Fernanda H. Sakamoto, MD, PhD, a dermatologist at the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston. “We’ll see a lot of people using new devices. I’m looking forward to seeing results in the long term.”

AviClear and the Accure Laser System, marketed by Accure, are both powered by a 1,726-nm laser, but they work differently. AviClear, which was cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, has a maximum fluence of 30 J/cm² in single-pulse mode and a maximum fluence of 20 J/cm² in double-pulse mode. The treatment handpiece has an integrated scanner for delivering treatment spot(s) in an operator-selected pattern. “It’s a little bit lower powered than the Accure and has a maximum pulse energy of 5 joules and a pulse duration of up to 50 milliseconds,” Dr. Sakamoto said. In the treatment of acne, laser and light treatments target the sebaceous gland.

In pivotal data submitted to the FDA, 104 patients with acne who were enrolled at 7 U.S. sites received 304 treatments with AviClear spaced 2-5 weeks apart. Each treatment took about 30 minutes. Treatment success was defined as having at least 50% fewer inflammatory acne lesions 12 weeks after the final treatment visit, compared with baseline. At the week 4 follow-up visit, there were median and mean reductions of 42% and 37%, respectively, in the inflammatory lesion counts from baseline (P < .001). The researchers found that, at the week 4 follow-up visit, 36% of patients had achieved treatment success, which increased to 78% at the 12-week follow-up visit. Treatment was considered safe and tolerable, according to the manufacturer.

The other newcomer device with a 1,726-nm wavelength is the Accure Laser System, which features a smart laser handpiece for real-time thermal monitoring and precise delivery of laser emissions. The device received CE Mark approval in 2020 for the treatment of moderate acne, and on Nov. 22, 2022, the manufacturer announced that it had been cleared by the FDA for the treatment of mild to severe inflammatory acne vulgaris.

Dr. Sakamoto and her Wellman colleagues have been working with five dermatologists to conduct clinical trials of the device: Emil Tanghetti, MD, and Mitchel Goldman, MD, in California; Roy Geronemus, MD, in New York; Joel Cohen, MD, in Colorado; and Daniel Friedmann, MD, in Texas. As of Oct. 2, 2022, more than 50 patients with mild to severe acne were enrolled in four studies and an additional 30 were enrolled in a pilot facial acne trial, Dr. Sakamoto said. In the trials, patients are followed at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment.

Among patients enrolled in the facial acne trial, researchers have observed a 100% responder rate for patients with more than five acne lesions at 4, 8, 12, and 24 weeks post treatment after four monthly treatment sessions. The average lesion reduction at week 12 was 82% and the mean visual analog scale score immediately after treatment was 2.09 out of 10. Each patient received more than 12,000 trigger pulls of energy from the device overall with no adverse events reported. At 12 months, they observed a 90% inflammatory lesion count reduction from baseline and a rapid response to treatment: a 73% reduction achieved after the first two treatment sessions. Histologic studies revealed selective sebaceous gland destruction with no damage to the epidermis, surrounding dermis, or other skin structures.

Dr. Sakamoto emphasized that to date no direct clinical comparisons have been made between the AviClear and Accure devices. “Are all 1,726-nm lasers made equal? That is a question that we have to keep in our mind,” she said during the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center for Photomedicine. “They are using the same wavelength, but they are different types of lasers.”

For example, the Accure Laser treats to temperature, relies on air cooling, and is targeted to dermatologists and plastic surgeons, while the AviClear treats to fluence, relies on contact cooling, and includes med spas and other nonphysician providers as the target users. “Mathematically, the difference between the two devices is that the Accure can achieve deeper penetration in a single pulse, while the AviClear is a little more superficial,” she said. “Whether that is translated clinically is unknown at this point.”

Dr. Sakamoto also discussed the TheraClearX, which is FDA cleared for the treatment of mild, moderate, and severe acne, including comedonal, pustular, and inflammatory acne vulgaris. The device, which is a new version of the Palomar Acleara, uses a vacuum technique with up to 3 psi pressure in conjunction with broadband light with a wavelength spectrum of 500 nm–1,200 nm delivered through a liquid-cooled, handheld delivery system. The predicate device was the Aesthera Isolaz System. The vacuum extracts buildup of sebaceous material. “At the same time, it takes the blood out of the competing chromophore,” she said. “By doing so, it potentially damages the sebaceous glands and reduces the inflammatory lesions.”

Dr. Sakamoto disclosed that she is the founder of and science advisor for Lightwater Bioscience. She is also a science advisor for Accure Acne and has received portions of patent royalties from Massachusetts General Hospital.

A California nurse practitioner was fined nearly $20,000 for false advertising and fraud after referring to herself as “Dr. Sarah” and failing to file necessary business paperwork, according to a settlement announced on Nov. 14.  

Last month, the San Luis Obispo County, California, District Attorney Dan Dow filed a complaint against Sarah Erny, RN, NP, citing unfair business practices and unprofessional conduct.

According to court documents, California’s Medical Practice Act does not permit individuals to refer to themselves as “doctor, physician, or any other terms or letters indicating or implying that he or she is a physician and surgeon ... without having ... a certificate as a physician and surgeon.”

Individuals who misrepresent themselves are subject to misdemeanor charges and civil penalties. 

In addition to the fine, Ms. Erny agreed to refrain from referring to herself as a doctor in her practice and on social media. She has already deleted her Twitter account.

The case underscores tensions between physicians fighting to preserve their scope of practice and the allied professionals that U.S. lawmakers increasingly see as a less expensive way to improve access to health care.

The American Medical Association and specialty groups strongly oppose a new bill, the Improving Care and Access to Nurses Act, that would expand the scope of practice for nurse practitioners and physician assistants.

Court records show that Ms. Erny earned a doctor of nursing practice (DNP) degree from Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn., and that she met the state requirements to obtain licensure as a registered nurse and nurse practitioner. In 2018, she opened a practice in Arroyo Grande, California, called Holistic Women’s Healing, where she provided medical services and drug supplements to patients.

She also entered a collaborative agreement with ob.gyn. Anika Moore, MD, for approximately 3 years. Dr. Moore’s medical practice was in another county and state, and the physician returned every 2 to 3 months to review a portion of Ms. Erny’s patient files.

Ms. Erny and Dr. Moore terminated the collaborative agreement in March, according to court documents.

However, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny regularly referred to herself as “Dr. Sarah” or “Dr. Sarah Erny” in her online advertising and social media accounts. Her patients “were so proud of her” that they called her doctor, and her supervising physician instructed staff to do the same.

Mr. Dow said Ms. Erny did not clearly advise the public that she was not a medical doctor and failed to identify her supervising physician. “Simply put, there is a great need for health care providers to state their level of training and licensing clearly and honestly in all of their advertising and marketing materials,” he said in a press release.

In California, nurse practitioners who have been certified by the Board of Registered Nursing may use the following titles: Advanced Practice Registered Nurse; Certified Nurse Practitioner; APRN-CNP; RN and NP; or a combination of other letters or words to identify specialization, such as adult nurse practitioner, pediatric nurse practitioner, obstetrical-gynecological nurse practitioner, and family nurse practitioner.

As educational requirements shift for advanced practice clinicians, similar cases will likely emerge, said Grant Martsolf, PhD, MPH, RN, FAAN, professor at the University of Pittsburgh School of Nursing.

“Scope of practice is governed by states, [so they] will have to figure [it] out as more professional disciplines move to clinical doctorates as the entry to practice. Pharma, [physical therapy], and [occupational therapy] have already done this, and advanced practice nursing is on its way. [Certified registered nurse anesthetists] are already required to get a DNP to sit for certification,” he said.

More guidance is needed, especially when considering other professions like dentists, clinical psychologists, and individuals with clinical or research doctorates who often call themselves doctors, Dr. Martsolf said.

“It seems that the honorific of ‘Dr.’ emerges from the degree, not from being a physician or surgeon,” he said.

Beyond the false advertising, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny did not file a fictitious business name statement for 2020 and 2021 – a requirement under the California Business and Professions Code to identify who is operating the business.

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

A California nurse practitioner was fined nearly $20,000 for false advertising and fraud after referring to herself as “Dr. Sarah” and failing to file necessary business paperwork, according to a settlement announced on Nov. 14.  

Last month, the San Luis Obispo County, California, District Attorney Dan Dow filed a complaint against Sarah Erny, RN, NP, citing unfair business practices and unprofessional conduct.

According to court documents, California’s Medical Practice Act does not permit individuals to refer to themselves as “doctor, physician, or any other terms or letters indicating or implying that he or she is a physician and surgeon ... without having ... a certificate as a physician and surgeon.”

Individuals who misrepresent themselves are subject to misdemeanor charges and civil penalties. 

In addition to the fine, Ms. Erny agreed to refrain from referring to herself as a doctor in her practice and on social media. She has already deleted her Twitter account.

The case underscores tensions between physicians fighting to preserve their scope of practice and the allied professionals that U.S. lawmakers increasingly see as a less expensive way to improve access to health care.

The American Medical Association and specialty groups strongly oppose a new bill, the Improving Care and Access to Nurses Act, that would expand the scope of practice for nurse practitioners and physician assistants.

Court records show that Ms. Erny earned a doctor of nursing practice (DNP) degree from Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn., and that she met the state requirements to obtain licensure as a registered nurse and nurse practitioner. In 2018, she opened a practice in Arroyo Grande, California, called Holistic Women’s Healing, where she provided medical services and drug supplements to patients.

She also entered a collaborative agreement with ob.gyn. Anika Moore, MD, for approximately 3 years. Dr. Moore’s medical practice was in another county and state, and the physician returned every 2 to 3 months to review a portion of Ms. Erny’s patient files.

Ms. Erny and Dr. Moore terminated the collaborative agreement in March, according to court documents.

However, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny regularly referred to herself as “Dr. Sarah” or “Dr. Sarah Erny” in her online advertising and social media accounts. Her patients “were so proud of her” that they called her doctor, and her supervising physician instructed staff to do the same.

Mr. Dow said Ms. Erny did not clearly advise the public that she was not a medical doctor and failed to identify her supervising physician. “Simply put, there is a great need for health care providers to state their level of training and licensing clearly and honestly in all of their advertising and marketing materials,” he said in a press release.

In California, nurse practitioners who have been certified by the Board of Registered Nursing may use the following titles: Advanced Practice Registered Nurse; Certified Nurse Practitioner; APRN-CNP; RN and NP; or a combination of other letters or words to identify specialization, such as adult nurse practitioner, pediatric nurse practitioner, obstetrical-gynecological nurse practitioner, and family nurse practitioner.

As educational requirements shift for advanced practice clinicians, similar cases will likely emerge, said Grant Martsolf, PhD, MPH, RN, FAAN, professor at the University of Pittsburgh School of Nursing.

“Scope of practice is governed by states, [so they] will have to figure [it] out as more professional disciplines move to clinical doctorates as the entry to practice. Pharma, [physical therapy], and [occupational therapy] have already done this, and advanced practice nursing is on its way. [Certified registered nurse anesthetists] are already required to get a DNP to sit for certification,” he said.

More guidance is needed, especially when considering other professions like dentists, clinical psychologists, and individuals with clinical or research doctorates who often call themselves doctors, Dr. Martsolf said.

“It seems that the honorific of ‘Dr.’ emerges from the degree, not from being a physician or surgeon,” he said.

Beyond the false advertising, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny did not file a fictitious business name statement for 2020 and 2021 – a requirement under the California Business and Professions Code to identify who is operating the business.

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

A California nurse practitioner was fined nearly $20,000 for false advertising and fraud after referring to herself as “Dr. Sarah” and failing to file necessary business paperwork, according to a settlement announced on Nov. 14.  

Last month, the San Luis Obispo County, California, District Attorney Dan Dow filed a complaint against Sarah Erny, RN, NP, citing unfair business practices and unprofessional conduct.

According to court documents, California’s Medical Practice Act does not permit individuals to refer to themselves as “doctor, physician, or any other terms or letters indicating or implying that he or she is a physician and surgeon ... without having ... a certificate as a physician and surgeon.”

Individuals who misrepresent themselves are subject to misdemeanor charges and civil penalties. 

In addition to the fine, Ms. Erny agreed to refrain from referring to herself as a doctor in her practice and on social media. She has already deleted her Twitter account.

The case underscores tensions between physicians fighting to preserve their scope of practice and the allied professionals that U.S. lawmakers increasingly see as a less expensive way to improve access to health care.

The American Medical Association and specialty groups strongly oppose a new bill, the Improving Care and Access to Nurses Act, that would expand the scope of practice for nurse practitioners and physician assistants.

Court records show that Ms. Erny earned a doctor of nursing practice (DNP) degree from Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn., and that she met the state requirements to obtain licensure as a registered nurse and nurse practitioner. In 2018, she opened a practice in Arroyo Grande, California, called Holistic Women’s Healing, where she provided medical services and drug supplements to patients.

She also entered a collaborative agreement with ob.gyn. Anika Moore, MD, for approximately 3 years. Dr. Moore’s medical practice was in another county and state, and the physician returned every 2 to 3 months to review a portion of Ms. Erny’s patient files.

Ms. Erny and Dr. Moore terminated the collaborative agreement in March, according to court documents.

However, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny regularly referred to herself as “Dr. Sarah” or “Dr. Sarah Erny” in her online advertising and social media accounts. Her patients “were so proud of her” that they called her doctor, and her supervising physician instructed staff to do the same.

Mr. Dow said Ms. Erny did not clearly advise the public that she was not a medical doctor and failed to identify her supervising physician. “Simply put, there is a great need for health care providers to state their level of training and licensing clearly and honestly in all of their advertising and marketing materials,” he said in a press release.

In California, nurse practitioners who have been certified by the Board of Registered Nursing may use the following titles: Advanced Practice Registered Nurse; Certified Nurse Practitioner; APRN-CNP; RN and NP; or a combination of other letters or words to identify specialization, such as adult nurse practitioner, pediatric nurse practitioner, obstetrical-gynecological nurse practitioner, and family nurse practitioner.

As educational requirements shift for advanced practice clinicians, similar cases will likely emerge, said Grant Martsolf, PhD, MPH, RN, FAAN, professor at the University of Pittsburgh School of Nursing.

“Scope of practice is governed by states, [so they] will have to figure [it] out as more professional disciplines move to clinical doctorates as the entry to practice. Pharma, [physical therapy], and [occupational therapy] have already done this, and advanced practice nursing is on its way. [Certified registered nurse anesthetists] are already required to get a DNP to sit for certification,” he said.

More guidance is needed, especially when considering other professions like dentists, clinical psychologists, and individuals with clinical or research doctorates who often call themselves doctors, Dr. Martsolf said.

“It seems that the honorific of ‘Dr.’ emerges from the degree, not from being a physician or surgeon,” he said.

Beyond the false advertising, Mr. Dow alleged that Ms. Erny did not file a fictitious business name statement for 2020 and 2021 – a requirement under the California Business and Professions Code to identify who is operating the business.

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

The asthma medication tezepelumab, added to subcutaneous immunotherapy treatment (SCIT), may provide better, longer-lasting symptom relief than allergy shots alone for patients with allergic rhinitis caused by cat allergens, according to results of a phase 1/2 clinical trial.

“One year of allergen immunotherapy [AIT] combined with tezepelumab was significantly more effective than SCIT alone in reducing the nasal response to allergen challenge both at the end of treatment and one year after stopping treatment,” lead study author Jonathan Corren, MD, of the University of California, Los Angeles, and his colleagues wrote in The Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology.

“This persistent improvement in clinical response was paralleled by reductions in nasal transcripts for multiple immunologic pathways, including mast cell activation.”

The study was cited in a news release from the National Institutes of Health that said that the approach may work in a similar way with other allergens.

The Food and Drug Administration recently approved tezepelumab for the treatment of severe asthma in people aged 12 years and older. Tezelumab, a monoclonal antibody, works by blocking the cytokine thymic stromal lymphopoietin (TSLP).

“Cells that cover the surface of organs like the skin and intestines or that line the inside of the nose and lungs rapidly secrete TSLP in response to signals of potential danger,” according to the NIH news release. “In allergic disease, TSLP helps initiate an overreactive immune response to otherwise harmless substances like cat dander, provoking airway inflammation that leads to the symptoms of allergic rhinitis.”
 

Testing an enhanced strategy

The double-blind CATNIP trial was conducted by Dr. Corren and colleagues at nine sites in the United States. The trial included patients aged 18-65 years who’d had moderate to severe cat-induced allergic rhinitis for at least 2 years from 2015 to 2019.

The researchers excluded patients with recurrent acute or chronic sinusitis. They excluded patients who had undergone SCIT with cat allergen within the past 10 years or seasonal or perennial allergen sensitivity during nasal challenges. They also excluded persons with a history of persistent asthma.

In the parallel-design study, 121 participants were randomly allocated into four groups: 32 patients were treated with intravenous tezepelumab plus cat SCIT, 31 received the allergy shots alone, 30 received tezepelumab alone, and 28 received placebo alone for 52 weeks, followed by 52 weeks of observation.

Participants received SCIT (10,000 bioequivalent allergy units per milliliter) or matched placebo via subcutaneous injections weekly in increasing doses for around 12 weeks, followed by monthly maintenance injections (4,000 BAU or maximum tolerated dose) until week 48.

They received tezepelumab (700 mg IV) or matched placebo 1-3 days prior to the SCIT or placebo SCIT injections once every 4 weeks through week 24, then before or on the same day as the SCIT or placebo injections through week 48.
 

Measures of effectiveness

Participants were also given nasal allergy challenges – one spritz of a nasal spray containing cat allergen extract in each nostril at screening, baseline, and weeks 26, 52, 78, and 104. The researchers recorded participants’ total nasal symptom score (TNSS) and peak nasal inspiratory flow at 5, 15, 30, and 60 minutes after being sprayed and hourly for up to 6 hours post challenge. Blood and nasal cell samples were also collected.

The research team performed skin prick tests using serial dilutions of cat extract and an intradermal skin test (IDST) using the concentration of allergen that produced an early response of at least 15 mm at baseline. They measured early-phase responses for the both tests at 15 minutes and late-phase response to the IDST at 6 hours.

They measured serum levels of cat dander–specific IgE, IgG4, and total IgE using fluoroenzyme immunoassay. They measured serum interleukin-5 and IL-13 using high-sensitivity single-molecule digital immunoassay and performed nasal brushing using a 3-mm cytology brush 6 hours after a nasal allergy challenge. They performed whole-genome transcriptional profiling on the extracted RNA.
 

Combination therapy worked better and longer

The combined therapy worked better while being administered. Although the allergy shots alone stopped working after they were discontinued, the combination continued to benefit participants 1 year after that therapy ended.

At week 52, statistically significant reductions in TNSS induced by nasal allergy challenges occurred in patients receiving tezepelumab plus SCIT compared with patients receiving SCIT alone.

At week 104, 1 year after treatment ended, the primary endpoint TNSS was not significantly different in the tezepelumab-plus-SCIT group than in the SCIT-alone group, but TNSS peak 0–1 hour was significantly lower in the combination treatment group than in the SCIT-alone group.

In analysis of gene expression from nasal epithelial samples, participants who had been treated with the combination but not with either therapy by itself showed persistent modulation of the nasal immunologic environment, including diminished mast cell function. This was explained in large part by decreased transcription of the gene TPSAB1 (tryptase). Tryptase protein in nasal fluid was also decreased in the combination group, compared with the SCIT-alone group.

Adverse and serious adverse events, including infections and infestations as well as respiratory, thoracic, mediastinal, gastrointestinal, immune system, and nervous system disorders, did not differ significantly between treatment groups.
 

Four independent experts welcome the results

Patricia Lynne Lugar, MD, associate professor of medicine in the division of pulmonology, allergy, and critical care medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., found the results, especially the 1-year posttreatment response durability, surprising.

“AIT is a very effective treatment that often provides prolonged symptom improvement and is ‘curative’ in many cases,” she said in an interview. “If further studies show that tezepelumab offers long-term results, more patients might opt for combination therapy.

“A significant strength of the study is its evaluation of responses of the combination therapy on cellular output and gene expression,” Dr. Lugar added. “The mechanism by which AIT modulates the allergic response is largely understood. Tezepelumab may augment this modulation to alter the Th2 response upon exposure to the allergens.”
 

Will payors cover the prohibitively costly biologic?

Scott Frank, MD, associate professor in the department of family medicine and community health at Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, called the study well designed and rigorous.

“The practicality of the approach may be limited by the need for intravenous administration of tezepelumab in addition to the traditional allergy shot,” he noted by email, “and the cost of this therapeutic approach is not addressed.”

Christopher Brooks, MD, clinical assistant professor of allergy and immunology in the department of otolaryngology at Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center, Columbus, also pointed out the drug’s cost.

“Tezepelumab is currently an expensive biologic, so it remains to be seen whether patients and payors will be willing to pay for this add-on medication when AIT by itself still remains very effective,” he said by email.

“AIT is most effective when given for 5 years, so it also remains to be seen whether the results and conclusions of this study would still hold true if done for the typical 5-year treatment period,” he added.

Stokes Peebles, MD, professor of medicine in the division of allergy, pulmonary, and critical care medicine at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tenn., called the study “very well designed by a highly respected group of investigators using well-matched study populations.

“Tezepelumab has been shown to work in asthma, and there is no reason to think it would not work in allergic rhinitis,” he said in an interview.

“However, while the results of the combined therapy were statistically significant, their clinical significance was not clear. Patients do not care about statistical significance. They want to know whether a drug will be clinically significant,” he added.

Many people avoid cat allergy symptoms by avoiding cats and, in some cases, by avoiding people who live with cats, he said. Medical therapy, usually involving nasal corticosteroids and antihistamines, helps most people avoid cat allergy symptoms.

“Patients with bad allergies who have not done well with SCIT may consider adding tezepelumab, but it incurs a major cost. If medical therapy doesn’t work, allergy shots are available at roughly $3,000 per year. Adding tezepelumab costs around $40,000 more per year,” he explained. “Does the slight clinical benefit justify the greatly increased cost?”

The authors and uninvolved experts recommend further related research.

The research was supported by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases. AstraZeneca and Amgen donated the drug used in the study. Dr. Corren reported financial relationships with AstraZeneca, and one coauthor reported relevant financial relationships with Amgen and other pharmaceutical companies. The remaining coauthors reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

The asthma medication tezepelumab, added to subcutaneous immunotherapy treatment (SCIT), may provide better, longer-lasting symptom relief than allergy shots alone for patients with allergic rhinitis caused by cat allergens, according to results of a phase 1/2 clinical trial.

“One year of allergen immunotherapy [AIT] combined with tezepelumab was significantly more effective than SCIT alone in reducing the nasal response to allergen challenge both at the end of treatment and one year after stopping treatment,” lead study author Jonathan Corren, MD, of the University of California, Los Angeles, and his colleagues wrote in The Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology.

“This persistent improvement in clinical response was paralleled by reductions in nasal transcripts for multiple immunologic pathways, including mast cell activation.”

The study was cited in a news release from the National Institutes of Health that said that the approach may work in a similar way with other allergens.

The Food and Drug Administration recently approved tezepelumab for the treatment of severe asthma in people aged 12 years and older. Tezelumab, a monoclonal antibody, works by blocking the cytokine thymic stromal lymphopoietin (TSLP).

“Cells that cover the surface of organs like the skin and intestines or that line the inside of the nose and lungs rapidly secrete TSLP in response to signals of potential danger,” according to the NIH news release. “In allergic disease, TSLP helps initiate an overreactive immune response to otherwise harmless substances like cat dander, provoking airway inflammation that leads to the symptoms of allergic rhinitis.”
 

Testing an enhanced strategy

The double-blind CATNIP trial was conducted by Dr. Corren and colleagues at nine sites in the United States. The trial included patients aged 18-65 years who’d had moderate to severe cat-induced allergic rhinitis for at least 2 years from 2015 to 2019.

The researchers excluded patients with recurrent acute or chronic sinusitis. They excluded patients who had undergone SCIT with cat allergen within the past 10 years or seasonal or perennial allergen sensitivity during nasal challenges. They also excluded persons with a history of persistent asthma.

In the parallel-design study, 121 participants were randomly allocated into four groups: 32 patients were treated with intravenous tezepelumab plus cat SCIT, 31 received the allergy shots alone, 30 received tezepelumab alone, and 28 received placebo alone for 52 weeks, followed by 52 weeks of observation.

Participants received SCIT (10,000 bioequivalent allergy units per milliliter) or matched placebo via subcutaneous injections weekly in increasing doses for around 12 weeks, followed by monthly maintenance injections (4,000 BAU or maximum tolerated dose) until week 48.

They received tezepelumab (700 mg IV) or matched placebo 1-3 days prior to the SCIT or placebo SCIT injections once every 4 weeks through week 24, then before or on the same day as the SCIT or placebo injections through week 48.
 

Measures of effectiveness

Participants were also given nasal allergy challenges – one spritz of a nasal spray containing cat allergen extract in each nostril at screening, baseline, and weeks 26, 52, 78, and 104. The researchers recorded participants’ total nasal symptom score (TNSS) and peak nasal inspiratory flow at 5, 15, 30, and 60 minutes after being sprayed and hourly for up to 6 hours post challenge. Blood and nasal cell samples were also collected.

The research team performed skin prick tests using serial dilutions of cat extract and an intradermal skin test (IDST) using the concentration of allergen that produced an early response of at least 15 mm at baseline. They measured early-phase responses for the both tests at 15 minutes and late-phase response to the IDST at 6 hours.

They measured serum levels of cat dander–specific IgE, IgG4, and total IgE using fluoroenzyme immunoassay. They measured serum interleukin-5 and IL-13 using high-sensitivity single-molecule digital immunoassay and performed nasal brushing using a 3-mm cytology brush 6 hours after a nasal allergy challenge. They performed whole-genome transcriptional profiling on the extracted RNA.
 

Combination therapy worked better and longer

The combined therapy worked better while being administered. Although the allergy shots alone stopped working after they were discontinued, the combination continued to benefit participants 1 year after that therapy ended.

At week 52, statistically significant reductions in TNSS induced by nasal allergy challenges occurred in patients receiving tezepelumab plus SCIT compared with patients receiving SCIT alone.

At week 104, 1 year after treatment ended, the primary endpoint TNSS was not significantly different in the tezepelumab-plus-SCIT group than in the SCIT-alone group, but TNSS peak 0–1 hour was significantly lower in the combination treatment group than in the SCIT-alone group.

In analysis of gene expression from nasal epithelial samples, participants who had been treated with the combination but not with either therapy by itself showed persistent modulation of the nasal immunologic environment, including diminished mast cell function. This was explained in large part by decreased transcription of the gene TPSAB1 (tryptase). Tryptase protein in nasal fluid was also decreased in the combination group, compared with the SCIT-alone group.

Adverse and serious adverse events, including infections and infestations as well as respiratory, thoracic, mediastinal, gastrointestinal, immune system, and nervous system disorders, did not differ significantly between treatment groups.
 

Four independent experts welcome the results

Patricia Lynne Lugar, MD, associate professor of medicine in the division of pulmonology, allergy, and critical care medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., found the results, especially the 1-year posttreatment response durability, surprising.

“AIT is a very effective treatment that often provides prolonged symptom improvement and is ‘curative’ in many cases,” she said in an interview. “If further studies show that tezepelumab offers long-term results, more patients might opt for combination therapy.

“A significant strength of the study is its evaluation of responses of the combination therapy on cellular output and gene expression,” Dr. Lugar added. “The mechanism by which AIT modulates the allergic response is largely understood. Tezepelumab may augment this modulation to alter the Th2 response upon exposure to the allergens.”
 

Will payors cover the prohibitively costly biologic?

Scott Frank, MD, associate professor in the department of family medicine and community health at Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, called the study well designed and rigorous.

“The practicality of the approach may be limited by the need for intravenous administration of tezepelumab in addition to the traditional allergy shot,” he noted by email, “and the cost of this therapeutic approach is not addressed.”

Christopher Brooks, MD, clinical assistant professor of allergy and immunology in the department of otolaryngology at Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center, Columbus, also pointed out the drug’s cost.

“Tezepelumab is currently an expensive biologic, so it remains to be seen whether patients and payors will be willing to pay for this add-on medication when AIT by itself still remains very effective,” he said by email.

“AIT is most effective when given for 5 years, so it also remains to be seen whether the results and conclusions of this study would still hold true if done for the typical 5-year treatment period,” he added.

Stokes Peebles, MD, professor of medicine in the division of allergy, pulmonary, and critical care medicine at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tenn., called the study “very well designed by a highly respected group of investigators using well-matched study populations.

“Tezepelumab has been shown to work in asthma, and there is no reason to think it would not work in allergic rhinitis,” he said in an interview.

“However, while the results of the combined therapy were statistically significant, their clinical significance was not clear. Patients do not care about statistical significance. They want to know whether a drug will be clinically significant,” he added.

Many people avoid cat allergy symptoms by avoiding cats and, in some cases, by avoiding people who live with cats, he said. Medical therapy, usually involving nasal corticosteroids and antihistamines, helps most people avoid cat allergy symptoms.

“Patients with bad allergies who have not done well with SCIT may consider adding tezepelumab, but it incurs a major cost. If medical therapy doesn’t work, allergy shots are available at roughly $3,000 per year. Adding tezepelumab costs around $40,000 more per year,” he explained. “Does the slight clinical benefit justify the greatly increased cost?”

The authors and uninvolved experts recommend further related research.

The research was supported by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases. AstraZeneca and Amgen donated the drug used in the study. Dr. Corren reported financial relationships with AstraZeneca, and one coauthor reported relevant financial relationships with Amgen and other pharmaceutical companies. The remaining coauthors reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

The asthma medication tezepelumab, added to subcutaneous immunotherapy treatment (SCIT), may provide better, longer-lasting symptom relief than allergy shots alone for patients with allergic rhinitis caused by cat allergens, according to results of a phase 1/2 clinical trial.

“One year of allergen immunotherapy [AIT] combined with tezepelumab was significantly more effective than SCIT alone in reducing the nasal response to allergen challenge both at the end of treatment and one year after stopping treatment,” lead study author Jonathan Corren, MD, of the University of California, Los Angeles, and his colleagues wrote in The Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology.

“This persistent improvement in clinical response was paralleled by reductions in nasal transcripts for multiple immunologic pathways, including mast cell activation.”

The study was cited in a news release from the National Institutes of Health that said that the approach may work in a similar way with other allergens.

The Food and Drug Administration recently approved tezepelumab for the treatment of severe asthma in people aged 12 years and older. Tezelumab, a monoclonal antibody, works by blocking the cytokine thymic stromal lymphopoietin (TSLP).

“Cells that cover the surface of organs like the skin and intestines or that line the inside of the nose and lungs rapidly secrete TSLP in response to signals of potential danger,” according to the NIH news release. “In allergic disease, TSLP helps initiate an overreactive immune response to otherwise harmless substances like cat dander, provoking airway inflammation that leads to the symptoms of allergic rhinitis.”
 

Testing an enhanced strategy

The double-blind CATNIP trial was conducted by Dr. Corren and colleagues at nine sites in the United States. The trial included patients aged 18-65 years who’d had moderate to severe cat-induced allergic rhinitis for at least 2 years from 2015 to 2019.

The researchers excluded patients with recurrent acute or chronic sinusitis. They excluded patients who had undergone SCIT with cat allergen within the past 10 years or seasonal or perennial allergen sensitivity during nasal challenges. They also excluded persons with a history of persistent asthma.

In the parallel-design study, 121 participants were randomly allocated into four groups: 32 patients were treated with intravenous tezepelumab plus cat SCIT, 31 received the allergy shots alone, 30 received tezepelumab alone, and 28 received placebo alone for 52 weeks, followed by 52 weeks of observation.

Participants received SCIT (10,000 bioequivalent allergy units per milliliter) or matched placebo via subcutaneous injections weekly in increasing doses for around 12 weeks, followed by monthly maintenance injections (4,000 BAU or maximum tolerated dose) until week 48.

They received tezepelumab (700 mg IV) or matched placebo 1-3 days prior to the SCIT or placebo SCIT injections once every 4 weeks through week 24, then before or on the same day as the SCIT or placebo injections through week 48.
 

Measures of effectiveness

Participants were also given nasal allergy challenges – one spritz of a nasal spray containing cat allergen extract in each nostril at screening, baseline, and weeks 26, 52, 78, and 104. The researchers recorded participants’ total nasal symptom score (TNSS) and peak nasal inspiratory flow at 5, 15, 30, and 60 minutes after being sprayed and hourly for up to 6 hours post challenge. Blood and nasal cell samples were also collected.

The research team performed skin prick tests using serial dilutions of cat extract and an intradermal skin test (IDST) using the concentration of allergen that produced an early response of at least 15 mm at baseline. They measured early-phase responses for the both tests at 15 minutes and late-phase response to the IDST at 6 hours.

They measured serum levels of cat dander–specific IgE, IgG4, and total IgE using fluoroenzyme immunoassay. They measured serum interleukin-5 and IL-13 using high-sensitivity single-molecule digital immunoassay and performed nasal brushing using a 3-mm cytology brush 6 hours after a nasal allergy challenge. They performed whole-genome transcriptional profiling on the extracted RNA.
 

Combination therapy worked better and longer

The combined therapy worked better while being administered. Although the allergy shots alone stopped working after they were discontinued, the combination continued to benefit participants 1 year after that therapy ended.

At week 52, statistically significant reductions in TNSS induced by nasal allergy challenges occurred in patients receiving tezepelumab plus SCIT compared with patients receiving SCIT alone.

At week 104, 1 year after treatment ended, the primary endpoint TNSS was not significantly different in the tezepelumab-plus-SCIT group than in the SCIT-alone group, but TNSS peak 0–1 hour was significantly lower in the combination treatment group than in the SCIT-alone group.

In analysis of gene expression from nasal epithelial samples, participants who had been treated with the combination but not with either therapy by itself showed persistent modulation of the nasal immunologic environment, including diminished mast cell function. This was explained in large part by decreased transcription of the gene TPSAB1 (tryptase). Tryptase protein in nasal fluid was also decreased in the combination group, compared with the SCIT-alone group.

Adverse and serious adverse events, including infections and infestations as well as respiratory, thoracic, mediastinal, gastrointestinal, immune system, and nervous system disorders, did not differ significantly between treatment groups.
 

Four independent experts welcome the results

Patricia Lynne Lugar, MD, associate professor of medicine in the division of pulmonology, allergy, and critical care medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., found the results, especially the 1-year posttreatment response durability, surprising.

“AIT is a very effective treatment that often provides prolonged symptom improvement and is ‘curative’ in many cases,” she said in an interview. “If further studies show that tezepelumab offers long-term results, more patients might opt for combination therapy.

“A significant strength of the study is its evaluation of responses of the combination therapy on cellular output and gene expression,” Dr. Lugar added. “The mechanism by which AIT modulates the allergic response is largely understood. Tezepelumab may augment this modulation to alter the Th2 response upon exposure to the allergens.”
 

Will payors cover the prohibitively costly biologic?

Scott Frank, MD, associate professor in the department of family medicine and community health at Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, called the study well designed and rigorous.

“The practicality of the approach may be limited by the need for intravenous administration of tezepelumab in addition to the traditional allergy shot,” he noted by email, “and the cost of this therapeutic approach is not addressed.”

Christopher Brooks, MD, clinical assistant professor of allergy and immunology in the department of otolaryngology at Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center, Columbus, also pointed out the drug’s cost.

“Tezepelumab is currently an expensive biologic, so it remains to be seen whether patients and payors will be willing to pay for this add-on medication when AIT by itself still remains very effective,” he said by email.

“AIT is most effective when given for 5 years, so it also remains to be seen whether the results and conclusions of this study would still hold true if done for the typical 5-year treatment period,” he added.

Stokes Peebles, MD, professor of medicine in the division of allergy, pulmonary, and critical care medicine at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tenn., called the study “very well designed by a highly respected group of investigators using well-matched study populations.

“Tezepelumab has been shown to work in asthma, and there is no reason to think it would not work in allergic rhinitis,” he said in an interview.

“However, while the results of the combined therapy were statistically significant, their clinical significance was not clear. Patients do not care about statistical significance. They want to know whether a drug will be clinically significant,” he added.

Many people avoid cat allergy symptoms by avoiding cats and, in some cases, by avoiding people who live with cats, he said. Medical therapy, usually involving nasal corticosteroids and antihistamines, helps most people avoid cat allergy symptoms.

“Patients with bad allergies who have not done well with SCIT may consider adding tezepelumab, but it incurs a major cost. If medical therapy doesn’t work, allergy shots are available at roughly $3,000 per year. Adding tezepelumab costs around $40,000 more per year,” he explained. “Does the slight clinical benefit justify the greatly increased cost?”

The authors and uninvolved experts recommend further related research.

The research was supported by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases. AstraZeneca and Amgen donated the drug used in the study. Dr. Corren reported financial relationships with AstraZeneca, and one coauthor reported relevant financial relationships with Amgen and other pharmaceutical companies. The remaining coauthors reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

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

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

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

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

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

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH, is part of a growing movement to fundamentally shift medical education to include training on how to cook healthy meals.

The way he sees it, the stakes couldn’t be higher. He believes doctors need to see food as medicine to be able to stem the tide of chronic disease.

About 6 in 10 adults in the United States live with chronic diseases, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, costing $4.1 trillion in annual health care costs. Adult obesity rates are rising, as are obesity-related conditions such as heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and certain types of cancer.

To turn the tide, Dr. Marvasti created a culinary medicine program in 2020 in collaboration with the University of Arizona Cooperative Extension and local chefs.

Dr. Marvasti, who is board certified in family medicine, graduated from the University of Arizona, Phoenix, where he serves as the director of the medical school’s Culinary Medicine Program.

The program offers an elective course for third- and fourth-year medical students, which introduces the evidence-based field of culinary medicine. Dr Marvasti’s goal is for the course to teach students how to use this science and the joy of cooking to improve long-term health outcomes for their patients.

As part of Dr. Marvasti’s program, students learn cooking fundamentals through chef demonstrations and hands-on practice – to teach students how food can be used to prevent and treat many chronic diseases.

One of the dishes students learn to make includes a quinoa salad made with cucumber, onion, bell peppers, corn, cherry tomatoes, beans, garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. Another recipe includes a healthier take on dessert: Dark chocolate mousse made with three large, ripe avocados, dark chocolate powder, three tablespoons of agave or maple, coconut cream, nondairy milk, salt, and vanilla. Dr. Marvasti and his team are set to build out the existing program to develop additional resources for medically underserved and rural communities in Arizona, according to a statement from the university. These plans will be funded by a $750,000 grant from Novo Nordisk.

“We’re going to develop an open education curriculum to share, so it’s open access to everyone,” said Dr. Marvasti, who is also director of Public Health, Prevention and Health Promotion and an associate professor at the university. “It can be adaptable at the undergraduate, graduate, and postgraduate level.”

Dr. Marvasti and his colleagues at the University of Arizona aren’t alone. In fact, culinary medicine programs are sprouting some serious legs.
 

Culinary medicine programs catch on

Jaclyn Albin, MD, CCMS, an associate professor in the departments of internal medicine and pediatrics at UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, conducted a scoping review of the literature on culinary medicine programs for medical students.* Her purpose was to learn how the programs were structured and how they assessed student knowledge and attitudes regarding nutrition counseling for patients.

Dr. Albin and her colleagues performed an initial literature search between June 1 and Aug. 1, 2020, of papers published between Jan. 1, 2012, and Aug. 1, 2020 – excluding some newer programs such as the one at the University of Arizona. The results of their research were published in Academic Medicine.

Ultimately, the authors identified and examined 34 programs offering medical student–focused culinary medicine courses.

Program instructors typically included a team of physicians, dietitians, chefs, and other professionals, the study found.

Most program participants exclusively taught medical students, though the training years of participants varied among programs, and they included first-, second-, third-, and fourth-year students. Some programs allowed students from outside their respective medical school to participate in the trainings.

As for the formats of the program, most included cohorts of 10-20 students attending multiple 2- to 3-hour sessions over the course of several months. The University of Alabama at Birmingham offers one of the longest courses, which spans 4-5 months, according to the paper. In contrast, the University of Rochester (N.Y.) program offers only a 1-day lab divided into four sessions, with each session lasting about 2 hours.

The culinary medicine programs’ course sessions tended to include a 10- to 30-minute didactic session involving videos, research articles, culinary theories, and other lectures, a 60- to 90-minute hands-on cooking session, and a 30-minute discussion around nutrition, culture, and patient care.

Most programs used pre- and post-program surveys to evaluate outcomes, though results varied between programs, according to the study. While each program evaluation had different metrics, the surveys generally revealed students felt more confident discussing dietary interventions with patients and in their own cooking skills following completion.
 

Course correction

Most of those programs are unfunded or minimally funded, Dr. Albin said.

Her own program, which is immensely popular with medical students, is one she teaches on a volunteer basis.

“I do this for free, in the evenings, because I believe in it,” she said.

Medical school education real estate is limited, so convincing medical schools to add something to the curriculum is difficult, Dr. Albin noted.

But it’s worth it, she said, because nutrition is the underpinning of so many diseases.

“Food is the top risk factor for early death in the U.S.,” Dr. Albin said. “I like to say that five times in a row. People have not digested it.”

During her culinary medicine courses, she also asks her medical students: “Who is comfortable in the kitchen?” Some sheepishly raise their hands, she said. Some don’t. Many don’t know anything about cooking.

Then she teaches students about healthy food and how to make it. As part of her program, medical students are given a pantry starter kit with olive oil and a variety of spices to take home and use.

Some recipes Dr. Albin teaches includes mango chili shrimp salad with lime vinaigrette, eggplant sliders, yellow vegetable curry, and strawberry banana chia pudding.

“If you figure out how to do it for your own busy, everyday life, you are now empowered to tell someone else about it,” she said.
 

A dietitian’s involvement

Milette Siler, RD, LD, CCMS, works with Dr. Albin to educate medical students and patients about food as medicine. A significant chunk of her job involves teaching future doctors what dietitians do.

When the class starts, many students don’t know two of the five basic things dietitians do, Ms. Siler said. By the end of the class, all students know what a dietitian does.

That’s important as students go on to become doctors.

“For us to remove barriers to care, we have to acknowledge most patients’ entry into health care is their physician,” she said. “The dietitian is often a referral. Doctors need to know enough to do no harm.”

Clinicians are often siloed, she said, and the key to better serving patients is partnership, transparency, and relationships. “I think everybody is at a point where everyone is saying what we’re doing isn’t working,” she said. “The American public deserves better, physicians deserve better, and clinicians deserve better.”
 

Popular with students

While the old guard has been slow to embrace the shift, her students have helped drive the growth of the culinary medicine field, Dr. Albin said.

“They are not settling for the inadequacy that somehow the rest of us did,” she continued. “I’m so hopeful for the future of the health system. We have a generation of people who will not stand for neglecting the most vital elements.”

Courtesy Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH

Lyndon Bui, a second-year medical student at the University of Arizona, Phoenix, is an example of one of these people.

As a member of a culinary medicine interest group on campus, he said, he has learned a lot about the importance of diet for long-term health. This has given him confidence to talk about food and nutrition.

His group does cooking demos at the Phoenix Farmers Market using food from various local vendors. They usually make a salad from local greens and cook seasonal veggies in a stir fry, he said.

They’ve previously made salad with microgreens – young seedlings of edible vegetables and herbs – and pomegranate seeds with a honey mustard vinaigrette, eggplant or cucumber, and hummus on pita bread, as well as almond butter and honey sandwiches, according to the university.

The group also talks with people in the community, answers questions, and learns about community needs.

Mr. Bui’s participation in this group has helped him cultivate a passion for community outreach that he wants to incorporate into his career.

“I feel like I have the knowledge to provide better advice to patients,” he said. “Knowing all these things about food, I feel more comfortable talking about it and more inclined to refer to a dietitian when maybe I wouldn’t have before.”
 

Family physician applauds culinary medicine programs

When Angie Neison, MD, CCMS, went to medical school, she was surprised there wasn’t more education on nutrition.

In fact, on average, physicians receive less than 20 hours of nutrition education, according to the University of Arizona.

Now 15 years into her career as a family physician, Dr. Neison says nutrition is a huge part of her practice. She spends time working to bust myths about nutrition for her patients – including that healthy food is boring and bland, that making it is time consuming, and that healthy food is expensive. She also spends time teaching aspects of culinary medicine to her colleagues – many of whom are well into their careers – so they can better serve their patients.

It’s worth it to spend time learning about nutrition, she said, whether that’s as a medical student in a culinary medicine program or a practicing physician taking additional courses.

Nutrition education in medical school hasn’t been a priority, she said, maybe because there is so much to learn, or maybe because there is no money to be made in prevention.

“If doctors learn it, they are able to better guide patients,” she said.

Correction, 11/29/22: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Albin's institution.
 

Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH, is part of a growing movement to fundamentally shift medical education to include training on how to cook healthy meals.

The way he sees it, the stakes couldn’t be higher. He believes doctors need to see food as medicine to be able to stem the tide of chronic disease.

About 6 in 10 adults in the United States live with chronic diseases, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, costing $4.1 trillion in annual health care costs. Adult obesity rates are rising, as are obesity-related conditions such as heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and certain types of cancer.

To turn the tide, Dr. Marvasti created a culinary medicine program in 2020 in collaboration with the University of Arizona Cooperative Extension and local chefs.

Dr. Marvasti, who is board certified in family medicine, graduated from the University of Arizona, Phoenix, where he serves as the director of the medical school’s Culinary Medicine Program.

The program offers an elective course for third- and fourth-year medical students, which introduces the evidence-based field of culinary medicine. Dr Marvasti’s goal is for the course to teach students how to use this science and the joy of cooking to improve long-term health outcomes for their patients.

As part of Dr. Marvasti’s program, students learn cooking fundamentals through chef demonstrations and hands-on practice – to teach students how food can be used to prevent and treat many chronic diseases.

One of the dishes students learn to make includes a quinoa salad made with cucumber, onion, bell peppers, corn, cherry tomatoes, beans, garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. Another recipe includes a healthier take on dessert: Dark chocolate mousse made with three large, ripe avocados, dark chocolate powder, three tablespoons of agave or maple, coconut cream, nondairy milk, salt, and vanilla. Dr. Marvasti and his team are set to build out the existing program to develop additional resources for medically underserved and rural communities in Arizona, according to a statement from the university. These plans will be funded by a $750,000 grant from Novo Nordisk.

“We’re going to develop an open education curriculum to share, so it’s open access to everyone,” said Dr. Marvasti, who is also director of Public Health, Prevention and Health Promotion and an associate professor at the university. “It can be adaptable at the undergraduate, graduate, and postgraduate level.”

Dr. Marvasti and his colleagues at the University of Arizona aren’t alone. In fact, culinary medicine programs are sprouting some serious legs.
 

Culinary medicine programs catch on

Jaclyn Albin, MD, CCMS, an associate professor in the departments of internal medicine and pediatrics at UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, conducted a scoping review of the literature on culinary medicine programs for medical students.* Her purpose was to learn how the programs were structured and how they assessed student knowledge and attitudes regarding nutrition counseling for patients.

Dr. Albin and her colleagues performed an initial literature search between June 1 and Aug. 1, 2020, of papers published between Jan. 1, 2012, and Aug. 1, 2020 – excluding some newer programs such as the one at the University of Arizona. The results of their research were published in Academic Medicine.

Ultimately, the authors identified and examined 34 programs offering medical student–focused culinary medicine courses.

Program instructors typically included a team of physicians, dietitians, chefs, and other professionals, the study found.

Most program participants exclusively taught medical students, though the training years of participants varied among programs, and they included first-, second-, third-, and fourth-year students. Some programs allowed students from outside their respective medical school to participate in the trainings.

As for the formats of the program, most included cohorts of 10-20 students attending multiple 2- to 3-hour sessions over the course of several months. The University of Alabama at Birmingham offers one of the longest courses, which spans 4-5 months, according to the paper. In contrast, the University of Rochester (N.Y.) program offers only a 1-day lab divided into four sessions, with each session lasting about 2 hours.

The culinary medicine programs’ course sessions tended to include a 10- to 30-minute didactic session involving videos, research articles, culinary theories, and other lectures, a 60- to 90-minute hands-on cooking session, and a 30-minute discussion around nutrition, culture, and patient care.

Most programs used pre- and post-program surveys to evaluate outcomes, though results varied between programs, according to the study. While each program evaluation had different metrics, the surveys generally revealed students felt more confident discussing dietary interventions with patients and in their own cooking skills following completion.
 

Course correction

Most of those programs are unfunded or minimally funded, Dr. Albin said.

Her own program, which is immensely popular with medical students, is one she teaches on a volunteer basis.

“I do this for free, in the evenings, because I believe in it,” she said.

Medical school education real estate is limited, so convincing medical schools to add something to the curriculum is difficult, Dr. Albin noted.

But it’s worth it, she said, because nutrition is the underpinning of so many diseases.

“Food is the top risk factor for early death in the U.S.,” Dr. Albin said. “I like to say that five times in a row. People have not digested it.”

During her culinary medicine courses, she also asks her medical students: “Who is comfortable in the kitchen?” Some sheepishly raise their hands, she said. Some don’t. Many don’t know anything about cooking.

Then she teaches students about healthy food and how to make it. As part of her program, medical students are given a pantry starter kit with olive oil and a variety of spices to take home and use.

Some recipes Dr. Albin teaches includes mango chili shrimp salad with lime vinaigrette, eggplant sliders, yellow vegetable curry, and strawberry banana chia pudding.

“If you figure out how to do it for your own busy, everyday life, you are now empowered to tell someone else about it,” she said.
 

A dietitian’s involvement

Milette Siler, RD, LD, CCMS, works with Dr. Albin to educate medical students and patients about food as medicine. A significant chunk of her job involves teaching future doctors what dietitians do.

When the class starts, many students don’t know two of the five basic things dietitians do, Ms. Siler said. By the end of the class, all students know what a dietitian does.

That’s important as students go on to become doctors.

“For us to remove barriers to care, we have to acknowledge most patients’ entry into health care is their physician,” she said. “The dietitian is often a referral. Doctors need to know enough to do no harm.”

Clinicians are often siloed, she said, and the key to better serving patients is partnership, transparency, and relationships. “I think everybody is at a point where everyone is saying what we’re doing isn’t working,” she said. “The American public deserves better, physicians deserve better, and clinicians deserve better.”
 

Popular with students

While the old guard has been slow to embrace the shift, her students have helped drive the growth of the culinary medicine field, Dr. Albin said.

“They are not settling for the inadequacy that somehow the rest of us did,” she continued. “I’m so hopeful for the future of the health system. We have a generation of people who will not stand for neglecting the most vital elements.”

Courtesy Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH

Lyndon Bui, a second-year medical student at the University of Arizona, Phoenix, is an example of one of these people.

As a member of a culinary medicine interest group on campus, he said, he has learned a lot about the importance of diet for long-term health. This has given him confidence to talk about food and nutrition.

His group does cooking demos at the Phoenix Farmers Market using food from various local vendors. They usually make a salad from local greens and cook seasonal veggies in a stir fry, he said.

They’ve previously made salad with microgreens – young seedlings of edible vegetables and herbs – and pomegranate seeds with a honey mustard vinaigrette, eggplant or cucumber, and hummus on pita bread, as well as almond butter and honey sandwiches, according to the university.

The group also talks with people in the community, answers questions, and learns about community needs.

Mr. Bui’s participation in this group has helped him cultivate a passion for community outreach that he wants to incorporate into his career.

“I feel like I have the knowledge to provide better advice to patients,” he said. “Knowing all these things about food, I feel more comfortable talking about it and more inclined to refer to a dietitian when maybe I wouldn’t have before.”
 

Family physician applauds culinary medicine programs

When Angie Neison, MD, CCMS, went to medical school, she was surprised there wasn’t more education on nutrition.

In fact, on average, physicians receive less than 20 hours of nutrition education, according to the University of Arizona.

Now 15 years into her career as a family physician, Dr. Neison says nutrition is a huge part of her practice. She spends time working to bust myths about nutrition for her patients – including that healthy food is boring and bland, that making it is time consuming, and that healthy food is expensive. She also spends time teaching aspects of culinary medicine to her colleagues – many of whom are well into their careers – so they can better serve their patients.

It’s worth it to spend time learning about nutrition, she said, whether that’s as a medical student in a culinary medicine program or a practicing physician taking additional courses.

Nutrition education in medical school hasn’t been a priority, she said, maybe because there is so much to learn, or maybe because there is no money to be made in prevention.

“If doctors learn it, they are able to better guide patients,” she said.

Correction, 11/29/22: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Albin's institution.
 

Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH, is part of a growing movement to fundamentally shift medical education to include training on how to cook healthy meals.

The way he sees it, the stakes couldn’t be higher. He believes doctors need to see food as medicine to be able to stem the tide of chronic disease.

About 6 in 10 adults in the United States live with chronic diseases, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, costing $4.1 trillion in annual health care costs. Adult obesity rates are rising, as are obesity-related conditions such as heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and certain types of cancer.

To turn the tide, Dr. Marvasti created a culinary medicine program in 2020 in collaboration with the University of Arizona Cooperative Extension and local chefs.

Dr. Marvasti, who is board certified in family medicine, graduated from the University of Arizona, Phoenix, where he serves as the director of the medical school’s Culinary Medicine Program.

The program offers an elective course for third- and fourth-year medical students, which introduces the evidence-based field of culinary medicine. Dr Marvasti’s goal is for the course to teach students how to use this science and the joy of cooking to improve long-term health outcomes for their patients.

As part of Dr. Marvasti’s program, students learn cooking fundamentals through chef demonstrations and hands-on practice – to teach students how food can be used to prevent and treat many chronic diseases.

One of the dishes students learn to make includes a quinoa salad made with cucumber, onion, bell peppers, corn, cherry tomatoes, beans, garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. Another recipe includes a healthier take on dessert: Dark chocolate mousse made with three large, ripe avocados, dark chocolate powder, three tablespoons of agave or maple, coconut cream, nondairy milk, salt, and vanilla. Dr. Marvasti and his team are set to build out the existing program to develop additional resources for medically underserved and rural communities in Arizona, according to a statement from the university. These plans will be funded by a $750,000 grant from Novo Nordisk.

“We’re going to develop an open education curriculum to share, so it’s open access to everyone,” said Dr. Marvasti, who is also director of Public Health, Prevention and Health Promotion and an associate professor at the university. “It can be adaptable at the undergraduate, graduate, and postgraduate level.”

Dr. Marvasti and his colleagues at the University of Arizona aren’t alone. In fact, culinary medicine programs are sprouting some serious legs.
 

Culinary medicine programs catch on

Jaclyn Albin, MD, CCMS, an associate professor in the departments of internal medicine and pediatrics at UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, conducted a scoping review of the literature on culinary medicine programs for medical students.* Her purpose was to learn how the programs were structured and how they assessed student knowledge and attitudes regarding nutrition counseling for patients.

Dr. Albin and her colleagues performed an initial literature search between June 1 and Aug. 1, 2020, of papers published between Jan. 1, 2012, and Aug. 1, 2020 – excluding some newer programs such as the one at the University of Arizona. The results of their research were published in Academic Medicine.

Ultimately, the authors identified and examined 34 programs offering medical student–focused culinary medicine courses.

Program instructors typically included a team of physicians, dietitians, chefs, and other professionals, the study found.

Most program participants exclusively taught medical students, though the training years of participants varied among programs, and they included first-, second-, third-, and fourth-year students. Some programs allowed students from outside their respective medical school to participate in the trainings.

As for the formats of the program, most included cohorts of 10-20 students attending multiple 2- to 3-hour sessions over the course of several months. The University of Alabama at Birmingham offers one of the longest courses, which spans 4-5 months, according to the paper. In contrast, the University of Rochester (N.Y.) program offers only a 1-day lab divided into four sessions, with each session lasting about 2 hours.

The culinary medicine programs’ course sessions tended to include a 10- to 30-minute didactic session involving videos, research articles, culinary theories, and other lectures, a 60- to 90-minute hands-on cooking session, and a 30-minute discussion around nutrition, culture, and patient care.

Most programs used pre- and post-program surveys to evaluate outcomes, though results varied between programs, according to the study. While each program evaluation had different metrics, the surveys generally revealed students felt more confident discussing dietary interventions with patients and in their own cooking skills following completion.
 

Course correction

Most of those programs are unfunded or minimally funded, Dr. Albin said.

Her own program, which is immensely popular with medical students, is one she teaches on a volunteer basis.

“I do this for free, in the evenings, because I believe in it,” she said.

Medical school education real estate is limited, so convincing medical schools to add something to the curriculum is difficult, Dr. Albin noted.

But it’s worth it, she said, because nutrition is the underpinning of so many diseases.

“Food is the top risk factor for early death in the U.S.,” Dr. Albin said. “I like to say that five times in a row. People have not digested it.”

During her culinary medicine courses, she also asks her medical students: “Who is comfortable in the kitchen?” Some sheepishly raise their hands, she said. Some don’t. Many don’t know anything about cooking.

Then she teaches students about healthy food and how to make it. As part of her program, medical students are given a pantry starter kit with olive oil and a variety of spices to take home and use.

Some recipes Dr. Albin teaches includes mango chili shrimp salad with lime vinaigrette, eggplant sliders, yellow vegetable curry, and strawberry banana chia pudding.

“If you figure out how to do it for your own busy, everyday life, you are now empowered to tell someone else about it,” she said.
 

A dietitian’s involvement

Milette Siler, RD, LD, CCMS, works with Dr. Albin to educate medical students and patients about food as medicine. A significant chunk of her job involves teaching future doctors what dietitians do.

When the class starts, many students don’t know two of the five basic things dietitians do, Ms. Siler said. By the end of the class, all students know what a dietitian does.

That’s important as students go on to become doctors.

“For us to remove barriers to care, we have to acknowledge most patients’ entry into health care is their physician,” she said. “The dietitian is often a referral. Doctors need to know enough to do no harm.”

Clinicians are often siloed, she said, and the key to better serving patients is partnership, transparency, and relationships. “I think everybody is at a point where everyone is saying what we’re doing isn’t working,” she said. “The American public deserves better, physicians deserve better, and clinicians deserve better.”
 

Popular with students

While the old guard has been slow to embrace the shift, her students have helped drive the growth of the culinary medicine field, Dr. Albin said.

“They are not settling for the inadequacy that somehow the rest of us did,” she continued. “I’m so hopeful for the future of the health system. We have a generation of people who will not stand for neglecting the most vital elements.”

Courtesy Farshad Fani Marvasti, MD, MPH

Lyndon Bui, a second-year medical student at the University of Arizona, Phoenix, is an example of one of these people.

As a member of a culinary medicine interest group on campus, he said, he has learned a lot about the importance of diet for long-term health. This has given him confidence to talk about food and nutrition.

His group does cooking demos at the Phoenix Farmers Market using food from various local vendors. They usually make a salad from local greens and cook seasonal veggies in a stir fry, he said.

They’ve previously made salad with microgreens – young seedlings of edible vegetables and herbs – and pomegranate seeds with a honey mustard vinaigrette, eggplant or cucumber, and hummus on pita bread, as well as almond butter and honey sandwiches, according to the university.

The group also talks with people in the community, answers questions, and learns about community needs.

Mr. Bui’s participation in this group has helped him cultivate a passion for community outreach that he wants to incorporate into his career.

“I feel like I have the knowledge to provide better advice to patients,” he said. “Knowing all these things about food, I feel more comfortable talking about it and more inclined to refer to a dietitian when maybe I wouldn’t have before.”
 

Family physician applauds culinary medicine programs

When Angie Neison, MD, CCMS, went to medical school, she was surprised there wasn’t more education on nutrition.

In fact, on average, physicians receive less than 20 hours of nutrition education, according to the University of Arizona.

Now 15 years into her career as a family physician, Dr. Neison says nutrition is a huge part of her practice. She spends time working to bust myths about nutrition for her patients – including that healthy food is boring and bland, that making it is time consuming, and that healthy food is expensive. She also spends time teaching aspects of culinary medicine to her colleagues – many of whom are well into their careers – so they can better serve their patients.

It’s worth it to spend time learning about nutrition, she said, whether that’s as a medical student in a culinary medicine program or a practicing physician taking additional courses.

Nutrition education in medical school hasn’t been a priority, she said, maybe because there is so much to learn, or maybe because there is no money to be made in prevention.

“If doctors learn it, they are able to better guide patients,” she said.

Correction, 11/29/22: An earlier version of this article misstated Dr. Albin's institution.
 

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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