Commentary

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is often a very challenging condition for parents to manage, both because of the “gleeful mayhem” children with ADHD manifest and because of the nature of effective treatments. Multiple randomized controlled studies and meta-analyses have demonstrated that stimulant medication with behavioral interventions is the optimal first-line treatment for children with both subtypes of ADHD, and that medications alone are superior to behavioral interventions alone. By improving attention and impulse control, the medications effectively decrease the many negative interactions with teachers, peers, and parents, aiding development and healthy self-esteem.

But many parents feel anxious about treating their young children with stimulants. Importantly, how children with ADHD will fare as adults is not predicted by their symptom level, but instead by the quality of their relationships with their parents, their ability to perform at school, and their social skills. Bring this framework to parents as you listen to their questions and help them decide on the best approach for their family. To assist you in these conversations, we will review the evidence for (or against) several of the most common alternatives to medication that parents are likely to ask about.
 

Diets and supplements

Dietary modifications are among the most popular “natural” approaches to managing ADHD in children. Diets that eliminate processed sugars or food additives (particularly artificial food coloring) are among the most common approaches discussed in the lay press. These diets are usually very time-consuming and disruptive for families to follow, and there is no evidence to support their general use in ADHD management. Those studies that rigorously examined them suggest that, for children with severe impairment who have failed to respond to medications for ADHD, a workup for food intolerance or nutritional deficits may reveal a different problem underlying their behavioral difficulties.¹

Similarly, supplementation with high-dose omega-3 fatty acids is modestly helpful only in a subset of children with ADHD symptoms, and not nearly as effective as medications or behavioral interventions. Spending time on an exacting diet or buying expensive supplements is very unlikely to relieve the children’s symptoms and may only add to their stress at home. The “sugar high” parents note may be the rare joy of eating a candy bar and not sugar causing ADHD. Offer parents the guidance to focus on a healthy diet, high in fruits and vegetables, whole grains, and healthy protein, and on meals that emphasize family time instead of struggles around food.
 

Neurofeedback

Neurofeedback is an approach that grew out of the observation that many adults with ADHD had resting patterns of brain wave activity different from those of neurotypical adults. In neurofeedback, patients learn strategies that amplify the brain waves associated with focused mental activity, rather than listless or hyperactive states. Businesses market this service for all sorts of illnesses and challenges, ADHD chief among them. Despite the marketing, there are very few randomized controlled studies of this intervention for ADHD in youth, and those have shown only the possibility of a benefit.

While there is no evidence of serious side effects, these treatments are time-consuming and expensive and unlikely to be covered by any insurance. You might suggest to parents that they could achieve some of the same theoretical benefits by looking for hobbies that invite sustained focus in their children. That is, they should think about activities that interest the children, such as music lessons or karate, that they could practice in classes and at home. If the children find these activities even somewhat interesting (or just enjoy the reward of their parents’ or teachers’ attention), regular practice will be supporting their developing attention while building social skills and authentic self-confidence, rather than the activities feeling like a treatment for an illness or condition.

Sleep and exercise

There are not many businesses or books selling worried and exhausted parents a quick nonmedication solution for their children’s ADHD in the form of healthy sleep and exercise habits. But these are safe and healthy ways to reduce symptoms and support development. Children with ADHD often enjoy and benefit from participating in a sport, and daily exercise can help with sleep and regulating their energy. They also often have difficulty with sleep initiation, and commonly do not get adequate or restful sleep. Inadequate sleep exacerbates inattention, distractibility, and irritability. Children with untreated ADHD also often spend a lot of time on screens, as it is difficult for them to shift away from rewarding activities, and parents can find screen time to be a welcome break from hyperactivity and negative interactions. But excessive screen time, especially close to bedtime, can worsen irritability and make sleep more difficult. Talk with parents about the value of establishing a routine around screen time, modest daily physical activity, and sleep that everyone can follow. If their family life is currently marked by late bedtimes and long hours in front of video games, this change will take effort. But within a few weeks, it could lead to significant improvements in energy, attention, and interactions at home.

Behavioral treatments

Effective behavioral treatments for ADHD do not change ADHD symptoms, but they do help children learn how to manage them. In “parent management training,” younger children and parents learn together how to avoid negative cycles of behavior (i.e., temper outbursts) by focusing on consistent routines and consequences that support children calmly learning to manage their impulses. The only other evidence-based treatment focuses on helping school age and older children develop executive functions – their planning, organization, and time management skills – with a range of age-appropriate tools. Both of these therapies may be more effective if the children are also receiving medication, but medication is not necessary for them to be helpful. It is important to note that play therapy and other evidence-based psychotherapies are not effective for management of ADHD, although they may treat comorbid problems.

Parent treatment

You may have diagnosed children with ADHD only to hear their parents respond by saying that they suspect (or know) that they (or their spouses) also have ADHD. This would not be surprising, as ADHD has one of the highest rates of heritability of psychiatric disorders, at 80%. Somewhere between 25% and 50% of parents of children with ADHD have ADHD themselves.² Screening for adults with ADHD, such as the Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale, is widely available and free. Speak with parents about the fact that behavioral treatments for their children’s ADHD are demanding. Such treatments require patience, calm, organization, and consistency.

If parents have ADHD, it may be very helpful for them to prioritize their own effective treatments, so that their attention and impulse control will support their parenting. They may be interested in learning about how treatment might also improve their performance at work and even the quality of their relationships. While there is some evidence that their children’s treatment outcome will hinge on the parents’ treatment,³ they deserve good care independent of the expectations of parenting.

Families benefit from a comprehensive “ADHD plan” for their children. This would start with an assessment of the severity of their children’s symptoms, specifying their impairment at home, school, and in social relationships. It would include their nonacademic performance, exploration of interests, and developing self-confidence. All of these considerations lead to setting reasonable expectations so the children can feel successful. Parents should think about how best to structure their children’s schedules to promote healthy sleep, exercise, and nutrition, and to expand opportunities for building their frustration tolerance, social skills, and executive function.

Parents will need to consider what kind of supports they themselves need to offer this structure. There are good resources available online for information and support, including Children and Adults with ADHD (chadd.org) and the ADHD Resource Center from the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry (aacap.org). This approach may help parents to evaluate the potential risks and benefits of medications as a component of treatment. Most of the quick fixes for childhood ADHD on the market will take a family’s time and money without providing meaningful improvement. Parents should focus instead on the tried-and-true routines and supports that will help them to create the setting at home that will enable their children to flourish.
 

Dr. Swick is physician in chief at Ohana, Center for Child and Adolescent Behavioral Health, Community Hospital of the Monterey (Calif.) Peninsula. Dr. Jellinek is professor emeritus of psychiatry and pediatrics, Harvard Medical School, Boston. Email them at [email protected].

References

1. Millichap JG and Yee MM. Pediatrics. 2012 Feb;129(2):330-7.

2. Grimm O et al. Curr Psychiatry Rep. 2020 Feb 27;22(4):18.

3. Chronis-Tuscano A et al. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2017 Apr;45(3):501-7.

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is often a very challenging condition for parents to manage, both because of the “gleeful mayhem” children with ADHD manifest and because of the nature of effective treatments. Multiple randomized controlled studies and meta-analyses have demonstrated that stimulant medication with behavioral interventions is the optimal first-line treatment for children with both subtypes of ADHD, and that medications alone are superior to behavioral interventions alone. By improving attention and impulse control, the medications effectively decrease the many negative interactions with teachers, peers, and parents, aiding development and healthy self-esteem.

But many parents feel anxious about treating their young children with stimulants. Importantly, how children with ADHD will fare as adults is not predicted by their symptom level, but instead by the quality of their relationships with their parents, their ability to perform at school, and their social skills. Bring this framework to parents as you listen to their questions and help them decide on the best approach for their family. To assist you in these conversations, we will review the evidence for (or against) several of the most common alternatives to medication that parents are likely to ask about.
 

Diets and supplements

Dietary modifications are among the most popular “natural” approaches to managing ADHD in children. Diets that eliminate processed sugars or food additives (particularly artificial food coloring) are among the most common approaches discussed in the lay press. These diets are usually very time-consuming and disruptive for families to follow, and there is no evidence to support their general use in ADHD management. Those studies that rigorously examined them suggest that, for children with severe impairment who have failed to respond to medications for ADHD, a workup for food intolerance or nutritional deficits may reveal a different problem underlying their behavioral difficulties.¹

Similarly, supplementation with high-dose omega-3 fatty acids is modestly helpful only in a subset of children with ADHD symptoms, and not nearly as effective as medications or behavioral interventions. Spending time on an exacting diet or buying expensive supplements is very unlikely to relieve the children’s symptoms and may only add to their stress at home. The “sugar high” parents note may be the rare joy of eating a candy bar and not sugar causing ADHD. Offer parents the guidance to focus on a healthy diet, high in fruits and vegetables, whole grains, and healthy protein, and on meals that emphasize family time instead of struggles around food.
 

Neurofeedback

Neurofeedback is an approach that grew out of the observation that many adults with ADHD had resting patterns of brain wave activity different from those of neurotypical adults. In neurofeedback, patients learn strategies that amplify the brain waves associated with focused mental activity, rather than listless or hyperactive states. Businesses market this service for all sorts of illnesses and challenges, ADHD chief among them. Despite the marketing, there are very few randomized controlled studies of this intervention for ADHD in youth, and those have shown only the possibility of a benefit.

While there is no evidence of serious side effects, these treatments are time-consuming and expensive and unlikely to be covered by any insurance. You might suggest to parents that they could achieve some of the same theoretical benefits by looking for hobbies that invite sustained focus in their children. That is, they should think about activities that interest the children, such as music lessons or karate, that they could practice in classes and at home. If the children find these activities even somewhat interesting (or just enjoy the reward of their parents’ or teachers’ attention), regular practice will be supporting their developing attention while building social skills and authentic self-confidence, rather than the activities feeling like a treatment for an illness or condition.

Sleep and exercise

There are not many businesses or books selling worried and exhausted parents a quick nonmedication solution for their children’s ADHD in the form of healthy sleep and exercise habits. But these are safe and healthy ways to reduce symptoms and support development. Children with ADHD often enjoy and benefit from participating in a sport, and daily exercise can help with sleep and regulating their energy. They also often have difficulty with sleep initiation, and commonly do not get adequate or restful sleep. Inadequate sleep exacerbates inattention, distractibility, and irritability. Children with untreated ADHD also often spend a lot of time on screens, as it is difficult for them to shift away from rewarding activities, and parents can find screen time to be a welcome break from hyperactivity and negative interactions. But excessive screen time, especially close to bedtime, can worsen irritability and make sleep more difficult. Talk with parents about the value of establishing a routine around screen time, modest daily physical activity, and sleep that everyone can follow. If their family life is currently marked by late bedtimes and long hours in front of video games, this change will take effort. But within a few weeks, it could lead to significant improvements in energy, attention, and interactions at home.

Behavioral treatments

Effective behavioral treatments for ADHD do not change ADHD symptoms, but they do help children learn how to manage them. In “parent management training,” younger children and parents learn together how to avoid negative cycles of behavior (i.e., temper outbursts) by focusing on consistent routines and consequences that support children calmly learning to manage their impulses. The only other evidence-based treatment focuses on helping school age and older children develop executive functions – their planning, organization, and time management skills – with a range of age-appropriate tools. Both of these therapies may be more effective if the children are also receiving medication, but medication is not necessary for them to be helpful. It is important to note that play therapy and other evidence-based psychotherapies are not effective for management of ADHD, although they may treat comorbid problems.

Parent treatment

You may have diagnosed children with ADHD only to hear their parents respond by saying that they suspect (or know) that they (or their spouses) also have ADHD. This would not be surprising, as ADHD has one of the highest rates of heritability of psychiatric disorders, at 80%. Somewhere between 25% and 50% of parents of children with ADHD have ADHD themselves.² Screening for adults with ADHD, such as the Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale, is widely available and free. Speak with parents about the fact that behavioral treatments for their children’s ADHD are demanding. Such treatments require patience, calm, organization, and consistency.

If parents have ADHD, it may be very helpful for them to prioritize their own effective treatments, so that their attention and impulse control will support their parenting. They may be interested in learning about how treatment might also improve their performance at work and even the quality of their relationships. While there is some evidence that their children’s treatment outcome will hinge on the parents’ treatment,³ they deserve good care independent of the expectations of parenting.

Families benefit from a comprehensive “ADHD plan” for their children. This would start with an assessment of the severity of their children’s symptoms, specifying their impairment at home, school, and in social relationships. It would include their nonacademic performance, exploration of interests, and developing self-confidence. All of these considerations lead to setting reasonable expectations so the children can feel successful. Parents should think about how best to structure their children’s schedules to promote healthy sleep, exercise, and nutrition, and to expand opportunities for building their frustration tolerance, social skills, and executive function.

Parents will need to consider what kind of supports they themselves need to offer this structure. There are good resources available online for information and support, including Children and Adults with ADHD (chadd.org) and the ADHD Resource Center from the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry (aacap.org). This approach may help parents to evaluate the potential risks and benefits of medications as a component of treatment. Most of the quick fixes for childhood ADHD on the market will take a family’s time and money without providing meaningful improvement. Parents should focus instead on the tried-and-true routines and supports that will help them to create the setting at home that will enable their children to flourish.
 

Dr. Swick is physician in chief at Ohana, Center for Child and Adolescent Behavioral Health, Community Hospital of the Monterey (Calif.) Peninsula. Dr. Jellinek is professor emeritus of psychiatry and pediatrics, Harvard Medical School, Boston. Email them at [email protected].

References

1. Millichap JG and Yee MM. Pediatrics. 2012 Feb;129(2):330-7.

2. Grimm O et al. Curr Psychiatry Rep. 2020 Feb 27;22(4):18.

3. Chronis-Tuscano A et al. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2017 Apr;45(3):501-7.

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is often a very challenging condition for parents to manage, both because of the “gleeful mayhem” children with ADHD manifest and because of the nature of effective treatments. Multiple randomized controlled studies and meta-analyses have demonstrated that stimulant medication with behavioral interventions is the optimal first-line treatment for children with both subtypes of ADHD, and that medications alone are superior to behavioral interventions alone. By improving attention and impulse control, the medications effectively decrease the many negative interactions with teachers, peers, and parents, aiding development and healthy self-esteem.

But many parents feel anxious about treating their young children with stimulants. Importantly, how children with ADHD will fare as adults is not predicted by their symptom level, but instead by the quality of their relationships with their parents, their ability to perform at school, and their social skills. Bring this framework to parents as you listen to their questions and help them decide on the best approach for their family. To assist you in these conversations, we will review the evidence for (or against) several of the most common alternatives to medication that parents are likely to ask about.
 

Diets and supplements

Dietary modifications are among the most popular “natural” approaches to managing ADHD in children. Diets that eliminate processed sugars or food additives (particularly artificial food coloring) are among the most common approaches discussed in the lay press. These diets are usually very time-consuming and disruptive for families to follow, and there is no evidence to support their general use in ADHD management. Those studies that rigorously examined them suggest that, for children with severe impairment who have failed to respond to medications for ADHD, a workup for food intolerance or nutritional deficits may reveal a different problem underlying their behavioral difficulties.¹

Similarly, supplementation with high-dose omega-3 fatty acids is modestly helpful only in a subset of children with ADHD symptoms, and not nearly as effective as medications or behavioral interventions. Spending time on an exacting diet or buying expensive supplements is very unlikely to relieve the children’s symptoms and may only add to their stress at home. The “sugar high” parents note may be the rare joy of eating a candy bar and not sugar causing ADHD. Offer parents the guidance to focus on a healthy diet, high in fruits and vegetables, whole grains, and healthy protein, and on meals that emphasize family time instead of struggles around food.
 

Neurofeedback

Neurofeedback is an approach that grew out of the observation that many adults with ADHD had resting patterns of brain wave activity different from those of neurotypical adults. In neurofeedback, patients learn strategies that amplify the brain waves associated with focused mental activity, rather than listless or hyperactive states. Businesses market this service for all sorts of illnesses and challenges, ADHD chief among them. Despite the marketing, there are very few randomized controlled studies of this intervention for ADHD in youth, and those have shown only the possibility of a benefit.

While there is no evidence of serious side effects, these treatments are time-consuming and expensive and unlikely to be covered by any insurance. You might suggest to parents that they could achieve some of the same theoretical benefits by looking for hobbies that invite sustained focus in their children. That is, they should think about activities that interest the children, such as music lessons or karate, that they could practice in classes and at home. If the children find these activities even somewhat interesting (or just enjoy the reward of their parents’ or teachers’ attention), regular practice will be supporting their developing attention while building social skills and authentic self-confidence, rather than the activities feeling like a treatment for an illness or condition.

Sleep and exercise

There are not many businesses or books selling worried and exhausted parents a quick nonmedication solution for their children’s ADHD in the form of healthy sleep and exercise habits. But these are safe and healthy ways to reduce symptoms and support development. Children with ADHD often enjoy and benefit from participating in a sport, and daily exercise can help with sleep and regulating their energy. They also often have difficulty with sleep initiation, and commonly do not get adequate or restful sleep. Inadequate sleep exacerbates inattention, distractibility, and irritability. Children with untreated ADHD also often spend a lot of time on screens, as it is difficult for them to shift away from rewarding activities, and parents can find screen time to be a welcome break from hyperactivity and negative interactions. But excessive screen time, especially close to bedtime, can worsen irritability and make sleep more difficult. Talk with parents about the value of establishing a routine around screen time, modest daily physical activity, and sleep that everyone can follow. If their family life is currently marked by late bedtimes and long hours in front of video games, this change will take effort. But within a few weeks, it could lead to significant improvements in energy, attention, and interactions at home.

Behavioral treatments

Effective behavioral treatments for ADHD do not change ADHD symptoms, but they do help children learn how to manage them. In “parent management training,” younger children and parents learn together how to avoid negative cycles of behavior (i.e., temper outbursts) by focusing on consistent routines and consequences that support children calmly learning to manage their impulses. The only other evidence-based treatment focuses on helping school age and older children develop executive functions – their planning, organization, and time management skills – with a range of age-appropriate tools. Both of these therapies may be more effective if the children are also receiving medication, but medication is not necessary for them to be helpful. It is important to note that play therapy and other evidence-based psychotherapies are not effective for management of ADHD, although they may treat comorbid problems.

Parent treatment

You may have diagnosed children with ADHD only to hear their parents respond by saying that they suspect (or know) that they (or their spouses) also have ADHD. This would not be surprising, as ADHD has one of the highest rates of heritability of psychiatric disorders, at 80%. Somewhere between 25% and 50% of parents of children with ADHD have ADHD themselves.² Screening for adults with ADHD, such as the Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale, is widely available and free. Speak with parents about the fact that behavioral treatments for their children’s ADHD are demanding. Such treatments require patience, calm, organization, and consistency.

If parents have ADHD, it may be very helpful for them to prioritize their own effective treatments, so that their attention and impulse control will support their parenting. They may be interested in learning about how treatment might also improve their performance at work and even the quality of their relationships. While there is some evidence that their children’s treatment outcome will hinge on the parents’ treatment,³ they deserve good care independent of the expectations of parenting.

Families benefit from a comprehensive “ADHD plan” for their children. This would start with an assessment of the severity of their children’s symptoms, specifying their impairment at home, school, and in social relationships. It would include their nonacademic performance, exploration of interests, and developing self-confidence. All of these considerations lead to setting reasonable expectations so the children can feel successful. Parents should think about how best to structure their children’s schedules to promote healthy sleep, exercise, and nutrition, and to expand opportunities for building their frustration tolerance, social skills, and executive function.

Parents will need to consider what kind of supports they themselves need to offer this structure. There are good resources available online for information and support, including Children and Adults with ADHD (chadd.org) and the ADHD Resource Center from the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry (aacap.org). This approach may help parents to evaluate the potential risks and benefits of medications as a component of treatment. Most of the quick fixes for childhood ADHD on the market will take a family’s time and money without providing meaningful improvement. Parents should focus instead on the tried-and-true routines and supports that will help them to create the setting at home that will enable their children to flourish.
 

Dr. Swick is physician in chief at Ohana, Center for Child and Adolescent Behavioral Health, Community Hospital of the Monterey (Calif.) Peninsula. Dr. Jellinek is professor emeritus of psychiatry and pediatrics, Harvard Medical School, Boston. Email them at [email protected].

References

1. Millichap JG and Yee MM. Pediatrics. 2012 Feb;129(2):330-7.

2. Grimm O et al. Curr Psychiatry Rep. 2020 Feb 27;22(4):18.

3. Chronis-Tuscano A et al. J Abnorm Child Psychol. 2017 Apr;45(3):501-7.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hello. This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk with you about a recent report in JAMA Cardiology on atrial fibrillation (AF), sex differences, and modifiable risk factors.

We looked at these questions in our vitamin D and omega-3 trial VITAL in an ancillary study called VITAL Rhythm, led by Dr. Christine Albert at Cedars-Sinai. And this particular project was led by Dr. Hasan Siddiqi at Vanderbilt.

As you know, AF is the most common arrhythmia in the world, and it’s burgeoning in numbers, primarily because of the aging of the population. It’s also a major cause of stroke, heart failure, and cardiovascular mortality. Although women are known to have lower rates of AF than men, they’re also known to have a higher risk for cardiovascular complications and sequelae, such as higher risk for stroke and CVD mortality. Therefore, we thought that understanding sex differences in risk and modifiable risk factors for AF that could reduce the burden of disease would be important.

It’s known that greater height is a risk factor for AF, but the extent to which it explains the differences in AF risk between men and women isn’t really known. So we looked at these questions in the VITAL cohort. VITAL has more than 25,000 participants. It’s a large, diverse, nationwide cohort. About 51% are women, and all are aged 50 years or older, with a mean age of 67. All were free of known clinical cardiovascular disease at the start of the study.

AF reports were confirmed by medical records and also supplemented by Medicare CMS linkage for fuller ascertainment of outcomes. We had 900 incident cases of AF in the study, and we did see that women were less likely to be diagnosed with AF. They had a 32% lower risk – strongly statistically significant compared with men, with a P < .001. Women were also more likely to be symptomatic: About 77% of women vs. 63% of men had symptoms prior to or at diagnosis.

It was very interesting that adjustment for height eliminated the lower risk for AF in women compared with men. After accounting for height, there was not only no reduction in risk for AF among the women, there was actually a reversal of the association so that there was a slightly higher risk for AF in the women. Other risk factors for AF in the cohort included older age, higher body mass index, hypertension, and higher consumption of alcohol. We did not see an association between diabetes and higher risk for AF. We also saw no clear association with physical activity, although very strenuous physical activity has been linked to AF in some other studies.

We looked at the interventions of vitamin D (2,000 IU/day) and omega-3 fatty acids (460 mg/day of EPA and 380 mg/day of DHA) and found no association with AF, although some other studies have seen increased risk for AF with higher doses of the marine omega-3s > 1 g/day and certainly at doses of 4 g/day. So overall, the findings highlight the fact that many of the risk factors for AF do seem to be modifiable, and it is really important to identify and try to reduce these risk factors in order to reduce the burden of AF. This may be particularly important in women because women are more likely to have stroke and cardiovascular mortality in these adverse cardiovascular outcomes.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hello. This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk with you about a recent report in JAMA Cardiology on atrial fibrillation (AF), sex differences, and modifiable risk factors.

We looked at these questions in our vitamin D and omega-3 trial VITAL in an ancillary study called VITAL Rhythm, led by Dr. Christine Albert at Cedars-Sinai. And this particular project was led by Dr. Hasan Siddiqi at Vanderbilt.

As you know, AF is the most common arrhythmia in the world, and it’s burgeoning in numbers, primarily because of the aging of the population. It’s also a major cause of stroke, heart failure, and cardiovascular mortality. Although women are known to have lower rates of AF than men, they’re also known to have a higher risk for cardiovascular complications and sequelae, such as higher risk for stroke and CVD mortality. Therefore, we thought that understanding sex differences in risk and modifiable risk factors for AF that could reduce the burden of disease would be important.

It’s known that greater height is a risk factor for AF, but the extent to which it explains the differences in AF risk between men and women isn’t really known. So we looked at these questions in the VITAL cohort. VITAL has more than 25,000 participants. It’s a large, diverse, nationwide cohort. About 51% are women, and all are aged 50 years or older, with a mean age of 67. All were free of known clinical cardiovascular disease at the start of the study.

AF reports were confirmed by medical records and also supplemented by Medicare CMS linkage for fuller ascertainment of outcomes. We had 900 incident cases of AF in the study, and we did see that women were less likely to be diagnosed with AF. They had a 32% lower risk – strongly statistically significant compared with men, with a P < .001. Women were also more likely to be symptomatic: About 77% of women vs. 63% of men had symptoms prior to or at diagnosis.

It was very interesting that adjustment for height eliminated the lower risk for AF in women compared with men. After accounting for height, there was not only no reduction in risk for AF among the women, there was actually a reversal of the association so that there was a slightly higher risk for AF in the women. Other risk factors for AF in the cohort included older age, higher body mass index, hypertension, and higher consumption of alcohol. We did not see an association between diabetes and higher risk for AF. We also saw no clear association with physical activity, although very strenuous physical activity has been linked to AF in some other studies.

We looked at the interventions of vitamin D (2,000 IU/day) and omega-3 fatty acids (460 mg/day of EPA and 380 mg/day of DHA) and found no association with AF, although some other studies have seen increased risk for AF with higher doses of the marine omega-3s > 1 g/day and certainly at doses of 4 g/day. So overall, the findings highlight the fact that many of the risk factors for AF do seem to be modifiable, and it is really important to identify and try to reduce these risk factors in order to reduce the burden of AF. This may be particularly important in women because women are more likely to have stroke and cardiovascular mortality in these adverse cardiovascular outcomes.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hello. This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk with you about a recent report in JAMA Cardiology on atrial fibrillation (AF), sex differences, and modifiable risk factors.

We looked at these questions in our vitamin D and omega-3 trial VITAL in an ancillary study called VITAL Rhythm, led by Dr. Christine Albert at Cedars-Sinai. And this particular project was led by Dr. Hasan Siddiqi at Vanderbilt.

As you know, AF is the most common arrhythmia in the world, and it’s burgeoning in numbers, primarily because of the aging of the population. It’s also a major cause of stroke, heart failure, and cardiovascular mortality. Although women are known to have lower rates of AF than men, they’re also known to have a higher risk for cardiovascular complications and sequelae, such as higher risk for stroke and CVD mortality. Therefore, we thought that understanding sex differences in risk and modifiable risk factors for AF that could reduce the burden of disease would be important.

It’s known that greater height is a risk factor for AF, but the extent to which it explains the differences in AF risk between men and women isn’t really known. So we looked at these questions in the VITAL cohort. VITAL has more than 25,000 participants. It’s a large, diverse, nationwide cohort. About 51% are women, and all are aged 50 years or older, with a mean age of 67. All were free of known clinical cardiovascular disease at the start of the study.

AF reports were confirmed by medical records and also supplemented by Medicare CMS linkage for fuller ascertainment of outcomes. We had 900 incident cases of AF in the study, and we did see that women were less likely to be diagnosed with AF. They had a 32% lower risk – strongly statistically significant compared with men, with a P < .001. Women were also more likely to be symptomatic: About 77% of women vs. 63% of men had symptoms prior to or at diagnosis.

It was very interesting that adjustment for height eliminated the lower risk for AF in women compared with men. After accounting for height, there was not only no reduction in risk for AF among the women, there was actually a reversal of the association so that there was a slightly higher risk for AF in the women. Other risk factors for AF in the cohort included older age, higher body mass index, hypertension, and higher consumption of alcohol. We did not see an association between diabetes and higher risk for AF. We also saw no clear association with physical activity, although very strenuous physical activity has been linked to AF in some other studies.

We looked at the interventions of vitamin D (2,000 IU/day) and omega-3 fatty acids (460 mg/day of EPA and 380 mg/day of DHA) and found no association with AF, although some other studies have seen increased risk for AF with higher doses of the marine omega-3s > 1 g/day and certainly at doses of 4 g/day. So overall, the findings highlight the fact that many of the risk factors for AF do seem to be modifiable, and it is really important to identify and try to reduce these risk factors in order to reduce the burden of AF. This may be particularly important in women because women are more likely to have stroke and cardiovascular mortality in these adverse cardiovascular outcomes.

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

During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.¹ Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.

Our study showed that students had a significantly higher stress level after the clinical suspension of in-person clinical interaction as compared with the time before the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.²

One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.

Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.

The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.

For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.³ Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.⁴ These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.

While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.

Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.⁵

Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.⁶ What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.

Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.

References

1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.

2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.

3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.

4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.

5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.

6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.

During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.¹ Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.

Our study showed that students had a significantly higher stress level after the clinical suspension of in-person clinical interaction as compared with the time before the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.²

One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.

Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.

The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.

For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.³ Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.⁴ These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.

While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.

Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.⁵

Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.⁶ What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.

Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.

References

1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.

2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.

3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.

4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.

5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.

6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.

During the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic U.S. medical students were suspended from in-person clinical interaction. This decision was based on specific guidance from the Association of American Medical Colleges and subsequently implemented in medical schools across the United States.¹ Our research project addressed students’ stress level before and after clinical in-person suspension and assessed medical students perceived COVID-19–related risk level. We were particularly curious to learn about students’ emotional struggles as they navigated the initial pedagogical uncertainty associated with the pandemic.

Our study showed that students had a significantly higher stress level after the clinical suspension of in-person clinical interaction as compared with the time before the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. It is likely that heightened stress was greater than before and the rationale was likely multifactorial in nature.²

One key stressor U.S. medical students faced was the negative impacts of COVID-19 on medical education. U.S. Medical Licensing Examination exam-taking was severely impacted, and some students needed to reschedule their test dates because of increased restrictions at testing centers. Third-year medical students in particular were worried about how COVID-19 would influence their residency application; for example, in-person residency interviews and away rotations as fourth-year medical students. Another concern was not being able to be involved in clinical work during the direst stage of this public health emergency because of personal protective equipment shortages and attempts to reduce community spread of COVID-19.

Our study also showed that students had a relatively lower perceived risk level when it comes to COVID-19 than health care workers in the 2003 SARS epidemic, which we suspect is mostly attributable to the suspension of clinical in-person interaction. We also found that female gender and self-reported mental illness diagnosis were two risk factors for perceived stress level, consistent with our current literature.

The reality of clinical in-person inaction caused by PPE shortage and limited telehealth options, together with social isolation and uncertainty regarding future education opportunities, appear to have had a detrimental effect on medical students’ psychological wellbeing. This did not have to be the case. Some medical students found innovative ways to stay involved.

For example, in 2020 some of Dr. Zhang’s classmates helped proctor virtual group therapy sessions held by the local National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. Medical students at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York were not only able to engage in telehealth but also join other task forces, such as PPE supply, distribution, and coordination, morale promotion, and administrative services.³ Finally, many medical students in New York volunteered in providing child care for frontline doctors to help relieve their burden.⁴ These actions, if implemented more widely, may have had a protective effect on the stress and well-being of medical students at that time.

While our study focused on the academic side of things, the personal impacts from COVID-19 need to be acknowledged – sickness from COVID-19 and its sequelae, family loss fromCOVID-19, financial struggle, and racial targeting of Asians to name a few. COVID-19 has influenced many families’ livelihood and changed our understanding of ourselves, others, and the world in unprecedented ways.

Fast forward to today – medical students are used to learning and living in a world with an ongoing pandemic, and medical education and residency application process have adapted to this new normal. The once-crippling uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and disastrous PPE shortages have passed. Yet, COVID-19 continues to be a stressor. In fact, burnout related to “COVID-19 fatigue” has been on the rise and one recent national survey shows one in five physicians intends to leave practice within 2 years.⁵

Meanwhile, uncertainty continued to persist, as in August 2022 monkeypox was declared a public health emergency in the United States.⁶ What Dr. Zhang learned as a medical student during the initial months of COVID-19 continues to be relevant: connect with loved ones, understand the changing reality, process the emotions, recognize what is under one’s control, have a solution-oriented mindset, and be forgiving and patient with oneself and others.

Dr. Zhang is a second-year psychiatry resident physician at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital/DC DBH, Washington. Dr. Himelhoch serves as professor and chair of the department of psychiatry at the University of Kentucky, Lexington. His research focuses on developing and studying the efficacy of innovative strategies aimed at improving the health and welfare among people with co-occurring psychiatric and substance use disorders.

References

1. Association of American Medical Colleges. Important Guidance for Medical Students on Clinical Rotations During the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak. 2020 Mar 17.

2. Zhang Y et al. Psychiatry Res. 2022;313:114595. doi: 10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114595.

3. Bahethi RR et al. Acad Med. 2021 Jun 1;96(6):859-63. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003863.

4. Krieger P and Goodnough A. Medical Students, Sidelined for Now, Find New Ways to Fight Coronavirus. The New York Times. 2020 Mar 23.

5. Abbasi J. JAMA. 2022 Apr 19;327(15):1435-7. doi: 10.1001/jama.2022.5074.

6. Department of Health & Human Services. Biden-Harris Administration Bolsters Monkeypox Response; HHS Secretary Becerra Declares Public Health Emergency. 2022 Aug 4.

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

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

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

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

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that vaccination rates in this country fell during the frenzy created by the COVID pandemic. We had a lot on our plates. Schools closed and many of us retreated into what seemed to be the safety of our homes. Parents were reluctant to take their children anywhere, let alone a pediatrician’s office. State health agencies wisely focused on collecting case figures and then shepherding the efforts to immunize against SARS-CoV-2 once vaccines were available. Tracking and promoting the existing children’s vaccinations fell off the priority list, even in places with exemplary vaccination rates.

Whether or not the pandemic is over continues to be a topic for debate, but there is clearly a general shift toward a new normalcy. However, vaccination rates of our children have not rebounded to prepandemic levels. In fact, in some areas they are continuing to fall.

In a recent guest essay in the New York Times, Ezekiel J. Emmanuel, MD, PhD, a physician and professor of medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, and Matthew Guido, his research assistant, explore the reasons for this lack of a significant rebound. The authors cite recent outbreaks of measles in Ohio and polio in New York City as examples of the peril we are facing if we fail to reverse the trend. In some areas measles vaccine rates alarmingly have dipped below the threshold for herd immunity.

While Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido acknowledge that the pandemic was a major driver of the falling vaccination rates they lay blame on the persistent decline on three factors that they view as correctable: nonmedical exemptions, our failure to vigorously enforce existing vaccine requirements, and inadequate public health campaigns.

The authors underestimate the lingering effect of the pandemic on parents’ vaccine hesitancy. As a septuagenarian who often hangs out with other septuagenarians I view the rapid development and effectiveness of the COVID vaccine as astounding and a boost for vaccines in general. However, were I much younger I might treat the vaccine’s success with a shrug. After some initial concern, the younger half of the population didn’t seem to see the illness as much of a threat to themselves or their peers. This attitude was reinforced by the fact that few of their peers, including those who were unvaccinated, were getting seriously ill. Despite all the hype, most parents and their children never ended up getting seriously ill.

You can understand why many parents might be quick to toss what you and I consider a successful COVID vaccine onto what they view as a growing pile of vaccines for diseases that in their experience have never sickened or killed anyone they have known.

Let’s be honest: Over the last half century we have produced several generations of parents who have little knowledge and certainly no personal experience with a childhood disease on the order or magnitude of polio. The vaccines that we have developed during their lifetimes have been targeted at diseases such as haemophilus influenzae meningitis that, while serious and anxiety provoking for pediatricians, occur so sporadically that most parents have no personal experience to motivate them to vaccinate their children.

Dr. Emmanuel and Mr. Guido are correct in advocating for the broader elimination of nonmedical exemptions and urging us to find the political will to vigorously enforce the vaccine requirements we have already enacted. I agree that our promotional campaigns need to be more robust. But, this will be a difficult challenge unless we can impress our audience with our straight talk and honesty. We must acknowledge and then explain why all vaccines are not created equal and that some are of more critical importance than others.

We are slowly learning that education isn’t the cure-all for vaccine hesitancy we once thought it was. And using scare tactics can backfire and create dysfunctional anxiety. We must choosing our words and target audience carefully. And ... having the political will to force parents into doing the right thing will be critical if we wish to restore our vaccination rates.

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

The obvious first statement is that it’s neither wise nor appropriate to speculate on the specifics of Damar Hamlin’s cardiac event during a football game on Jan. 2 (including the possibility of commotio cordis) or his ongoing care. The public nature of his collapse induces intense curiosity but people with illness deserve privacy. Privacy in health care is in short supply. I disagree strongly with those who say his doctors ought to be giving public updates. That’s up to the family.

But there are important general concepts to consider about this incident. These include ...

Cardiac arrest can happen to anyone

People with structural heart disease or other chronic illnesses have a higher risk of arrhythmia, but the notion that athletes are immune from cardiac arrest is wrong. This sentence almost seems too obvious to write, but to this day, I hear clinicians express surprise that an athletic person has heart disease.

Survival turns on rapid and effective intervention

In the old days of electrophysiology, we used to test implantable cardioverter-defibrillators during an implant procedure by inducing ventricular fibrillation (VF) and watching the device convert it. Thankfully, trials have shown that this is no longer necessary for most implants.

When you induce VF In the EP lab, you learn quickly that a) it causes loss of consciousness in a matter of seconds, b) rapid defibrillation restores consciousness, often without the patients knowing or remembering they passed out, and c) the failure of the shock to terminate VF results in deterioration in a matter of 1-2 minutes. Even 1 minute in VF feels so long.

Need is an appropriate word in VF treatment

Clinicians often use the verb need. As in, this patient needs this pill or this procedure. It’s rarely appropriate.

But in the case of treating VF, patients truly need rapid defibrillation. Survival of out-of-hospital cardiac arrest is low because there just aren’t enough automated external defibrillators (AEDs) or people trained to use them. A study of patients who had out-of-hospital cardiac arrest in Denmark found that 30-day survival almost doubled (28.8% vs. 16.4%), when the nearest AED was accessible.

Bystanders must act

The public messages are simple: If a person loses consciousness in front of you, and is not breathing normally, assume it is a cardiac arrest, call 911 to get professional help, and start hands-only chest compressions. Don’t spend time checking for a pulse or trying to wake the person. If this is not a cardiac arrest, they will soon tell you to stop compressing their chest. Seconds matter.

Chest compressions are important but what is really needed is defibrillation. A crucial step in CPR is to send someone to get an AED and get the pads attached. If this is a shockable rhythm, deliver the shock. Hamlin’s collapse emphasizes the importance of the AED; without it, his survival to the hospital would have been unlikely.

Widespread preparticipation screening of young athletes remains a bad idea

Whenever cardiac arrest occurs in an athlete, in such a public way, people think about prevention. Surely it is better to prevent such an event than react to it, goes the thinking. The argument against this idea has four prongs:

The incidence of cardiac disease in a young athlete is extremely low, which sets up a situation where most “positive” tests are false positive. A false positive screening ECG or echocardiogram can create harm in multiple ways. One is the risk from downstream procedures, but worse is the inappropriate disqualification from sport. Healthwise, few harms could be greater than creating long-term fear of exercise in someone.

There is also the problem of false-negative screening tests. An ECG may be normal in the setting of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. And a normal echocardiogram does not exclude arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy or other genetic causes of cardiac arrest. In a 2018 study from a major sports cardiology center in London, 6 of the 8 sudden cardiac deaths in their series were in athletes who had no detectable abnormalities on screening.

Even when disease is found, it’s not clear that prohibiting participation in sports prevents sudden death. Many previous class III recommendations against participation in sport now carry class II – may be considered – designations.

Finally, screening for any disease loses value as treatments improve. Public education regarding rapid intervention with CPR and AED use is the best treatment option. A great example is the case of Christian Erikson, a Danish soccer player who suffered cardiac arrest during a match at the European Championships in 2021 and was rapidly defibrillated on the field. Therapy was so effective that he was conscious and able to wave to fans on his way out of the stadium. He has now returned to elite competition.

Proponents of screening might oppose my take by saying that National Football League players are intensely screened. But this is different from widespread screening of high school and college athletes. It might sound harsh to say, but professional teams have dualities of interests in the health of their athletes given the million-dollar contracts.

What’s more, professional teams can afford to hire expert cardiologists to perform the testing. This would likely reduce the rate of false-positive findings, compared with screening in the community setting. I often have young people referred to me because of asymptomatic bradycardia found during athletic screening – an obviously normal finding.

Conclusions

As long as there are sports, there will be athletes who suffer cardiac arrest.

We can both hope for Hamlin’s full recovery and learn lessons to help reduce the rate of death from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. This mostly involves education on how to help fellow humans and a public health commitment to access to AEDs.

John Mandrola, MD, practices cardiac electrophysiology in Louisville, Ky. and is a writer and podcaster for Medscape. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The obvious first statement is that it’s neither wise nor appropriate to speculate on the specifics of Damar Hamlin’s cardiac event during a football game on Jan. 2 (including the possibility of commotio cordis) or his ongoing care. The public nature of his collapse induces intense curiosity but people with illness deserve privacy. Privacy in health care is in short supply. I disagree strongly with those who say his doctors ought to be giving public updates. That’s up to the family.

But there are important general concepts to consider about this incident. These include ...

Cardiac arrest can happen to anyone

People with structural heart disease or other chronic illnesses have a higher risk of arrhythmia, but the notion that athletes are immune from cardiac arrest is wrong. This sentence almost seems too obvious to write, but to this day, I hear clinicians express surprise that an athletic person has heart disease.

Survival turns on rapid and effective intervention

In the old days of electrophysiology, we used to test implantable cardioverter-defibrillators during an implant procedure by inducing ventricular fibrillation (VF) and watching the device convert it. Thankfully, trials have shown that this is no longer necessary for most implants.

When you induce VF In the EP lab, you learn quickly that a) it causes loss of consciousness in a matter of seconds, b) rapid defibrillation restores consciousness, often without the patients knowing or remembering they passed out, and c) the failure of the shock to terminate VF results in deterioration in a matter of 1-2 minutes. Even 1 minute in VF feels so long.

Need is an appropriate word in VF treatment

Clinicians often use the verb need. As in, this patient needs this pill or this procedure. It’s rarely appropriate.

But in the case of treating VF, patients truly need rapid defibrillation. Survival of out-of-hospital cardiac arrest is low because there just aren’t enough automated external defibrillators (AEDs) or people trained to use them. A study of patients who had out-of-hospital cardiac arrest in Denmark found that 30-day survival almost doubled (28.8% vs. 16.4%), when the nearest AED was accessible.

Bystanders must act

The public messages are simple: If a person loses consciousness in front of you, and is not breathing normally, assume it is a cardiac arrest, call 911 to get professional help, and start hands-only chest compressions. Don’t spend time checking for a pulse or trying to wake the person. If this is not a cardiac arrest, they will soon tell you to stop compressing their chest. Seconds matter.

Chest compressions are important but what is really needed is defibrillation. A crucial step in CPR is to send someone to get an AED and get the pads attached. If this is a shockable rhythm, deliver the shock. Hamlin’s collapse emphasizes the importance of the AED; without it, his survival to the hospital would have been unlikely.

Widespread preparticipation screening of young athletes remains a bad idea

Whenever cardiac arrest occurs in an athlete, in such a public way, people think about prevention. Surely it is better to prevent such an event than react to it, goes the thinking. The argument against this idea has four prongs:

The incidence of cardiac disease in a young athlete is extremely low, which sets up a situation where most “positive” tests are false positive. A false positive screening ECG or echocardiogram can create harm in multiple ways. One is the risk from downstream procedures, but worse is the inappropriate disqualification from sport. Healthwise, few harms could be greater than creating long-term fear of exercise in someone.

There is also the problem of false-negative screening tests. An ECG may be normal in the setting of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. And a normal echocardiogram does not exclude arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy or other genetic causes of cardiac arrest. In a 2018 study from a major sports cardiology center in London, 6 of the 8 sudden cardiac deaths in their series were in athletes who had no detectable abnormalities on screening.

Even when disease is found, it’s not clear that prohibiting participation in sports prevents sudden death. Many previous class III recommendations against participation in sport now carry class II – may be considered – designations.

Finally, screening for any disease loses value as treatments improve. Public education regarding rapid intervention with CPR and AED use is the best treatment option. A great example is the case of Christian Erikson, a Danish soccer player who suffered cardiac arrest during a match at the European Championships in 2021 and was rapidly defibrillated on the field. Therapy was so effective that he was conscious and able to wave to fans on his way out of the stadium. He has now returned to elite competition.

Proponents of screening might oppose my take by saying that National Football League players are intensely screened. But this is different from widespread screening of high school and college athletes. It might sound harsh to say, but professional teams have dualities of interests in the health of their athletes given the million-dollar contracts.

What’s more, professional teams can afford to hire expert cardiologists to perform the testing. This would likely reduce the rate of false-positive findings, compared with screening in the community setting. I often have young people referred to me because of asymptomatic bradycardia found during athletic screening – an obviously normal finding.

Conclusions

As long as there are sports, there will be athletes who suffer cardiac arrest.

We can both hope for Hamlin’s full recovery and learn lessons to help reduce the rate of death from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. This mostly involves education on how to help fellow humans and a public health commitment to access to AEDs.

John Mandrola, MD, practices cardiac electrophysiology in Louisville, Ky. and is a writer and podcaster for Medscape. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The obvious first statement is that it’s neither wise nor appropriate to speculate on the specifics of Damar Hamlin’s cardiac event during a football game on Jan. 2 (including the possibility of commotio cordis) or his ongoing care. The public nature of his collapse induces intense curiosity but people with illness deserve privacy. Privacy in health care is in short supply. I disagree strongly with those who say his doctors ought to be giving public updates. That’s up to the family.

But there are important general concepts to consider about this incident. These include ...

Cardiac arrest can happen to anyone

People with structural heart disease or other chronic illnesses have a higher risk of arrhythmia, but the notion that athletes are immune from cardiac arrest is wrong. This sentence almost seems too obvious to write, but to this day, I hear clinicians express surprise that an athletic person has heart disease.

Survival turns on rapid and effective intervention

In the old days of electrophysiology, we used to test implantable cardioverter-defibrillators during an implant procedure by inducing ventricular fibrillation (VF) and watching the device convert it. Thankfully, trials have shown that this is no longer necessary for most implants.

When you induce VF In the EP lab, you learn quickly that a) it causes loss of consciousness in a matter of seconds, b) rapid defibrillation restores consciousness, often without the patients knowing or remembering they passed out, and c) the failure of the shock to terminate VF results in deterioration in a matter of 1-2 minutes. Even 1 minute in VF feels so long.

Need is an appropriate word in VF treatment

Clinicians often use the verb need. As in, this patient needs this pill or this procedure. It’s rarely appropriate.

But in the case of treating VF, patients truly need rapid defibrillation. Survival of out-of-hospital cardiac arrest is low because there just aren’t enough automated external defibrillators (AEDs) or people trained to use them. A study of patients who had out-of-hospital cardiac arrest in Denmark found that 30-day survival almost doubled (28.8% vs. 16.4%), when the nearest AED was accessible.

Bystanders must act

The public messages are simple: If a person loses consciousness in front of you, and is not breathing normally, assume it is a cardiac arrest, call 911 to get professional help, and start hands-only chest compressions. Don’t spend time checking for a pulse or trying to wake the person. If this is not a cardiac arrest, they will soon tell you to stop compressing their chest. Seconds matter.

Chest compressions are important but what is really needed is defibrillation. A crucial step in CPR is to send someone to get an AED and get the pads attached. If this is a shockable rhythm, deliver the shock. Hamlin’s collapse emphasizes the importance of the AED; without it, his survival to the hospital would have been unlikely.

Widespread preparticipation screening of young athletes remains a bad idea

Whenever cardiac arrest occurs in an athlete, in such a public way, people think about prevention. Surely it is better to prevent such an event than react to it, goes the thinking. The argument against this idea has four prongs:

The incidence of cardiac disease in a young athlete is extremely low, which sets up a situation where most “positive” tests are false positive. A false positive screening ECG or echocardiogram can create harm in multiple ways. One is the risk from downstream procedures, but worse is the inappropriate disqualification from sport. Healthwise, few harms could be greater than creating long-term fear of exercise in someone.

There is also the problem of false-negative screening tests. An ECG may be normal in the setting of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. And a normal echocardiogram does not exclude arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy or other genetic causes of cardiac arrest. In a 2018 study from a major sports cardiology center in London, 6 of the 8 sudden cardiac deaths in their series were in athletes who had no detectable abnormalities on screening.

Even when disease is found, it’s not clear that prohibiting participation in sports prevents sudden death. Many previous class III recommendations against participation in sport now carry class II – may be considered – designations.

Finally, screening for any disease loses value as treatments improve. Public education regarding rapid intervention with CPR and AED use is the best treatment option. A great example is the case of Christian Erikson, a Danish soccer player who suffered cardiac arrest during a match at the European Championships in 2021 and was rapidly defibrillated on the field. Therapy was so effective that he was conscious and able to wave to fans on his way out of the stadium. He has now returned to elite competition.

Proponents of screening might oppose my take by saying that National Football League players are intensely screened. But this is different from widespread screening of high school and college athletes. It might sound harsh to say, but professional teams have dualities of interests in the health of their athletes given the million-dollar contracts.

What’s more, professional teams can afford to hire expert cardiologists to perform the testing. This would likely reduce the rate of false-positive findings, compared with screening in the community setting. I often have young people referred to me because of asymptomatic bradycardia found during athletic screening – an obviously normal finding.

Conclusions

As long as there are sports, there will be athletes who suffer cardiac arrest.

We can both hope for Hamlin’s full recovery and learn lessons to help reduce the rate of death from out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. This mostly involves education on how to help fellow humans and a public health commitment to access to AEDs.

John Mandrola, MD, practices cardiac electrophysiology in Louisville, Ky. and is a writer and podcaster for Medscape. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.

Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.

Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.

The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.

Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.

Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”¹ or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
 

‘Ratatouille’ (2007)

One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.

The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.

Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.

The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.

Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.

While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
 

‘Inside Out’ (2015)

Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.

In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.

During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.

The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.

Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.

It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.

Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).

A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.

Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.

Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.

The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.

Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.

Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”¹ or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
 

‘Ratatouille’ (2007)

One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.

The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.

Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.

The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.

Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.

While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
 

‘Inside Out’ (2015)

Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.

In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.

During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.

The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.

Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.

It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.

Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).

A common refrain in psychiatry is that the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision, (DSM-5-TR), published in 2022, is the best we can do.

Since the DSM-III was released in 1980, the American Psychiatric Association, which publishes the manual, has espoused the position that we should list symptoms, in a manner that is reminiscent of a checklist. For example, having a depressed mood on most days for a 2-week period, or a loss of interest in pleasurable things, as well as 4 additional symptoms – among them changes in appetite, changes in sleep, changes in psychomotor activity, fatigue, worthlessness, poor concentration, or thoughts of death – can lead to a diagnosis of a major depressive episode as part of a major depressive disorder.

Criticisms of this approach can be apparent. Patients subjected to such checklists, including being repeatedly asked to complete the Patient Health Questionnaire 9 (PHQ-9), which closely follows those criteria, can feel lost and even alienated by their providers. After all, one can ask all those questions and make a diagnosis of depression without even knowing about the patient’s stressors, their history, or their social context.

The DSM permits the diagnosis of psychiatric disorders without an understanding of the narrative of the patient. In its defense, the DSM is not a textbook of psychiatry, it is a guide on how to diagnose individuals. The DSM does not demand that psychiatrists only ask about the symptoms on the checklists; it is the providers who can choose to dismiss asking about the important facets of one’s life.

Yet every time we attend a lecture that starts by enumerating the DSM symptoms of the disorder being discussed, we are left with the dissatisfying impression that a specialist of this disorder should have a more nuanced and interesting description of their disorder of study. This feeling of discontent is compounded when we see a movie that encompasses so much of what is missing in today’s psychiatric parlance, and even more so if that movie is ostensibly made for children. Movies, by design, are particularly adept at encapsulating the narrative of someone’s life in a way that psychiatry can learn from.

Other than the embarrassment of not knowing a patient outside the checklist, the importance of narrative cannot be understated. Dr. Erik Erikson rightfully suggested that the point of life is “the acceptance of one’s one and only life cycle”¹ or rather to know it was okay to have been oneself without additions or substitutions. Therefore, one must know what it has meant to be themselves to reconcile this question and achieve Ego Integrity rather than disgust and despair. Narrative is the way in which we understand who we are and what it has meant to be ourselves. An understanding of our personal narrative presents a unique opportunity in expressing what is missing in the DSM. Below, we provide two of our favorite examples in Disney films, among many.
 

‘Ratatouille’ (2007)

One of the missing features of the DSM is its inability to explain to patients the intrapsychic processes that guide us. One of these processes is how our values can lead us to a deep sense of guilt, shame, and the resulting feelings of alienation. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling shackled by beliefs that they should accomplish more and be more than they are.

The animated film “Ratatouille” does an excellent job at addressing this feeling. The film follows Remy, the protagonist rat, and his adventures as he explores his passion for cooking. Remy teams up with the inept but good-natured human Alfredo Linguini and guides him through cooking while hiding under his chef’s hat. The primary antagonist, Anton Ego, is a particularly harsh food critic. His presence and appearance are somber. He exudes disdain. His trim physique and scarf suggest a man that will break and react to anything, and his skull-shaped typewriter in his coffin-shaped office informs the viewer that he is out to kill with his cruel words. Anton Ego serves as our projected super-ego. He is not an external judge but the judgment deep inside ourselves, goading us to be better with such severity that we are ultimately left feeling condemned.

Remy is the younger of two siblings. He is less physically adept but more intellectual than his older brother, who does not understand why Remy isn’t content eating scraps from the garbage like the rest of their rat clan. Remy is the creative part within us that wants to challenge the status quo and try something new. Remy also represents our shame and guilt for leaving our home. On one hand, we want to dare greatly, in this case at being an extraordinary chef, but on the other we are shy and cook in secret, hiding within the hat of another person. Remy struggles with the deep feeling that we do not deserve our success, that our family will leave us for being who we are, and that we are better off isolating and segregating from our challenges.

The movie concludes that through talent and hard work, our critics will accept us. Furthermore, once accepted for what we do, we can be further accepted for who we are. The movie ends with Remy cooking the eponymous dish ratatouille. He prepares it so remarkably well, the dish transports Anton Ego back to a sublime experience of eating ratatouille as a child, a touching moment which not only underscores food’s evocative link to memory but gives a glimpse at Anton Ego’s own narrative.

Ego is first won over by the dish, and only afterward learns of Remy’s true identity. Remy’s talent is undeniable though, and even the stuffy Ego must accept the film’s theme that “Anyone can cook,” even a rat – the rat that we all sometimes feel we are deep inside, rotten to the core but trying so hard to be accepted by others, and ultimately by ourselves. In the end, we overcome the disgust inherent in the imagery of a rat in a kitchen and instead embrace our hero’s achievement of ego integrity as he combines his identities as a member of a clan of rats, and one of Paris’s finest chefs.

While modern psychiatry can favor looking at people through the lens of biology rather than narrative, “Ratatouille” can serve as a reminder of the powerful unconscious forces that guide our lives. “Ratatouille” is not a successful movie only because of the compelling narrative, but also because the narrative matches the important psychic paradigms that psychiatry once embraced.
 

‘Inside Out’ (2015)

Another missing feature of the DSM is its inability to explain how symptoms feel and manifest psychologically. One such feeling is that of control – whether one is in control of one’s life, feelings, and action or rather a victim of external forces. It is extremely common for patients to enter our clinical practice feeling traumatized by the life they’ve lived and powerless to produce any change. Part of our role is to guide them through this journey from the object of their lives to the subject of their lives.

In the animated feature “Inside Out,” Riley, a preteen girl, goes through the tribulation of growing up and learning about herself. This seemingly happy child, content playing hockey with her best friend, Meg, on the picturesque frozen lakes of Minnesota, reaches her inevitable conflict. Her parents uproot her life, moving the family to San Francisco. By doing so, they disconnect her from her school, her friends, and her hobbies. While all this is happening, we spend time inside Riley’s psyche with the personified characters of Riley’s emotions as they affect her decisions and daily actions amidst the backdrop of her core memories and islands of personality.

During the move, her parents seemingly change and ultimately destroy every facet of Riley’s sense of self, which is animated as the collapse of her personality islands. Her best friend engages Riley in a video call just to inform her that she has a new friend who plays hockey equally well. Her parents do not hear Riley’s concerns and are portrayed as distracted by their adult problems. Riley feels ridiculed in her new school and unable to share her feelings with her parents, who ask her to still be their “happy girl” and indirectly ask her to fake pleasure to alleviate their own anxiety.

The climax of the movie is when Riley decides to run away from San Francisco and her parents, to return to her perceived true home, Minnesota. The climax is resolved when Riley realizes that her parents’ love, representing the connection we have to others, transcends her need for control. To some degree, we are all powerless in the face of the tremendous forces of life and share the difficult task of accepting the cards we were dealt, thus making the story of Riley so compelling.

Additionally, the climax is further resolved by another argument that psychiatry (and the DSM) should consider embracing. Emotions are not all symptoms and living without negative emotion is not the goal of life. Riley grows from preteen to teenager, and from object to subject of her life, by realizing that her symptoms/feelings are not just nuisances to avoid and hide, but the key to meaning. Our anger drives us to try hard. Our fear protects us from harm. Our sadness attracts the warmth and care of others. Our disgust protects us physically from noxious material (symbolized as a dreaded broccoli floret for preteen Riley) and socially by encouraging us to share societal norms. Similarly, patients and people in general would benefit by being taught that, while symptoms may permit the better assessment of psychiatric conditions using the DSM, life is much more than that.

It is unfair to blame the DSM for things it was not designed to do. The DSM doesn’t advertise itself as a guidebook of all behaviors, at all times. However, for a variety of reasons, it has become the main way psychiatry describes people. While we commend the APA for its effort and do not know that we could make it any better, we are frequently happily reminded that in about 90 minutes, filmmakers are able to display an empathic understanding of personal narratives that biologic psychiatry can miss.

Dr. Pulido is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in women’s mental health, medical education, and outpatient psychiatry. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. He has no conflicts of interest.

References

1. Erikson, EH. Childhood and society (New York: WW Norton, 1950).

“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am

You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.

So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.

Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.

Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.

I wonder if I can choose Mondays.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am

You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.

So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.

Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.

Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.

I wonder if I can choose Mondays.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

“More than Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” – Ahad Ha’am

You should all be well rested by now. After all, we’ve just come through the festive shutdown of the holiday season where all of your pumpkin/peppermint/marshmallow flavored coffees were sipped while walking around in your jimjams at 10 a.m. It was the time of year for you to take time off to get a proper rest and be energized to get back to work. Yet, I’m not feeling it from you.

So let’s talk about burnout – just kidding, that would only make it worse. “Burned-out’’ is a hackneyed and defective phrase to describe what many of us are feeling. We are not “destroyed, gutted by fire or by overheating.” No, we are, as one of our docs put it to me: “Just tired.” Ah, a much better Old English word! “Tired” captures it. It means to feel “in need of rest.” We are not ruined, we are just depleted. We don’t need discarding. We need some rest.

Ironically, this column, like most of mine, comes to you after my having written it on a Saturday and Sunday. I also just logged on to my EMR and checked results, renewed a few prescriptions, and answered a couple messages. If I didn’t, my Monday’s work would be crushingly heavy.

Maybe I need to be more efficient and finish my work during the week. Or maybe I need to realize that work has not let up since about 600 BCE and taking one day off each week to rest is an obligation to myself, my family and my community.

I wonder if I can choose Mondays.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

Happy New Year, everyone! In early December, I attended the 2022 AGA Women’s Leadership Collaboration Conference to discuss strategies to promote gender equity in our profession. It was an inspiring weekend and reminded me how many talented individuals we have in the field of gastroenterology, all with fascinating personal and professional stories and much to contribute. I think I speak for all attendees in saying that it was a privilege to have the opportunity to interact with this amazing group of women leaders, reflect on our shared experiences and visions for the future of GI, and expand our networks.

This month we are excited to launch a new recurring feature in the newspaper and online – the Member Spotlight column. AGA has more than16,000 members from varied backgrounds. Yet the reality is that each of our individual networks is much smaller, and we would all benefit from learning more about one other and building a greater sense of community. To that end, starting with this issue, we will feature a different AGA member each month in our Member Spotlight column. The goal of this new feature is to recognize AGA members’ accomplishments across all career stages and practice settings, to highlight the diversity of our membership, and to help AGA members feel more connected by learning more about each other. Our inaugural Member Spotlight column highlights Patricia Jones, MD, associate professor at the University of Miami and an accomplished hepatologist. We thank Dr. Jones for sharing her story with us.

This will be a recurring monthly feature, so please consider nominating your colleagues (including trainees, practicing GIs in academics and community practice, those with non-traditional careers or unique pursuits outside of medicine, and others) to be featured in future Member Spotlight columns! It’s a great way for the nominee’s accomplishments to be recognized and to build a sense of community among the broader AGA membership. To submit a nomination, please send the nominee’s name, email, and a brief description of why you are nominating them to: [email protected]. We look forward to reviewing your submissions and hope you will use these Member Spotlights as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with someone new and expand your networks.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor-in-Chief

Happy New Year, everyone! In early December, I attended the 2022 AGA Women’s Leadership Collaboration Conference to discuss strategies to promote gender equity in our profession. It was an inspiring weekend and reminded me how many talented individuals we have in the field of gastroenterology, all with fascinating personal and professional stories and much to contribute. I think I speak for all attendees in saying that it was a privilege to have the opportunity to interact with this amazing group of women leaders, reflect on our shared experiences and visions for the future of GI, and expand our networks.

This month we are excited to launch a new recurring feature in the newspaper and online – the Member Spotlight column. AGA has more than16,000 members from varied backgrounds. Yet the reality is that each of our individual networks is much smaller, and we would all benefit from learning more about one other and building a greater sense of community. To that end, starting with this issue, we will feature a different AGA member each month in our Member Spotlight column. The goal of this new feature is to recognize AGA members’ accomplishments across all career stages and practice settings, to highlight the diversity of our membership, and to help AGA members feel more connected by learning more about each other. Our inaugural Member Spotlight column highlights Patricia Jones, MD, associate professor at the University of Miami and an accomplished hepatologist. We thank Dr. Jones for sharing her story with us.

This will be a recurring monthly feature, so please consider nominating your colleagues (including trainees, practicing GIs in academics and community practice, those with non-traditional careers or unique pursuits outside of medicine, and others) to be featured in future Member Spotlight columns! It’s a great way for the nominee’s accomplishments to be recognized and to build a sense of community among the broader AGA membership. To submit a nomination, please send the nominee’s name, email, and a brief description of why you are nominating them to: [email protected]. We look forward to reviewing your submissions and hope you will use these Member Spotlights as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with someone new and expand your networks.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor-in-Chief

Happy New Year, everyone! In early December, I attended the 2022 AGA Women’s Leadership Collaboration Conference to discuss strategies to promote gender equity in our profession. It was an inspiring weekend and reminded me how many talented individuals we have in the field of gastroenterology, all with fascinating personal and professional stories and much to contribute. I think I speak for all attendees in saying that it was a privilege to have the opportunity to interact with this amazing group of women leaders, reflect on our shared experiences and visions for the future of GI, and expand our networks.

This month we are excited to launch a new recurring feature in the newspaper and online – the Member Spotlight column. AGA has more than16,000 members from varied backgrounds. Yet the reality is that each of our individual networks is much smaller, and we would all benefit from learning more about one other and building a greater sense of community. To that end, starting with this issue, we will feature a different AGA member each month in our Member Spotlight column. The goal of this new feature is to recognize AGA members’ accomplishments across all career stages and practice settings, to highlight the diversity of our membership, and to help AGA members feel more connected by learning more about each other. Our inaugural Member Spotlight column highlights Patricia Jones, MD, associate professor at the University of Miami and an accomplished hepatologist. We thank Dr. Jones for sharing her story with us.

This will be a recurring monthly feature, so please consider nominating your colleagues (including trainees, practicing GIs in academics and community practice, those with non-traditional careers or unique pursuits outside of medicine, and others) to be featured in future Member Spotlight columns! It’s a great way for the nominee’s accomplishments to be recognized and to build a sense of community among the broader AGA membership. To submit a nomination, please send the nominee’s name, email, and a brief description of why you are nominating them to: [email protected]. We look forward to reviewing your submissions and hope you will use these Member Spotlights as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with someone new and expand your networks.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor-in-Chief

With the introduction of the first US Food and Drug Administration (FDA)–approved medication for alopecia areata (AA)—the Janus kinase (JAK) inhibitor, baricitinib—there is an important focus on this disease in the literature and for practicing dermatologists. Known by all as an autoimmune genetic disease that causes relapsing and remitting nonscarring hair loss, AA is a condition where the psychological burden has been less widely recognized. Patients with AA have reported lower health-related quality of life scores compared to patients with other skin conditions, including psoriasis or atopic dermatitis. In addition, a lesser amount of scalp coverage is negatively correlated to health-related quality of life scores.¹ Patients with AA also have a 39% lifetime prevalence of major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder.² The treatment of AA has been a hodgepodge of topical, intralesional, and systemic agents, all with indirect immunosuppressive or anagen prolongation effects. Now that there is an approved therapy for AA with more treatments likely to be approved in the near future, there must be a focus on real-world outcomes. With the dawn of a new era in the treatment of AA as well as new information showcasing an altered prevalence of AA in skin of color, highlighting disparities among this population may help ease challenges dermatologic providers will face.

Efficacy of Baricitinib in Different Races and Ethnicities

How will patients of different races and ethnicities respond to this new treatment, and how will their emotional health be affected? The 2 phase 3 pivotal trials showing efficacy of baricitinib in AA included Black and Latino patients but not in a way that is representative of the US population.³ Until recently, the most commonly used prevalence of AA in the United States was from the NHANES I study completed between 1971 and 1974, which was between 0.1% and 0.2%⁴ with minimal focus on race and ethnicity. Recent studies suggest that there may be increased prevalence of this condition in Black patients in the United States. These new findings raise concern around access to care and treatment and the need to tailor psychosocial interventions for populations that may not currently have these supports.

A large cross-sectional study published in 2020 demonstrated that these data remained similar, with a lifetime prevalence of 0.21%.⁵ Of the 45,016 participants—representative of the US population based on the 2015 US Census—the average age of AA patients was 41.2 years, with 61.3% being White and not of Hispanic origin.⁵ In recent years, other studies have challenged the narrative that AA predominantly affects White patients.^6-8 A different cross-sectional study utilizing National Alopecia Areata Registry data from 2002 to 2016 suggested that Black patients have greater odds of developing AA.⁶ In this study of 2645 cases of AA, the odds ratios of developing the condition were 1.36 for Blacks, 0.53 for Asians, and 0.83 for Hispanics compared with the referent White population. These results were consistent through the varying subtypes of AA.⁶ In a reply to these findings, Gonzalez and Fleischer⁷ analyzed data from the 2007 to 2016 National Ambulatory Medical Care Survey database with a focus on racial and ethnic prevalence of AA. This study concluded that Latino and non-White individuals had an increased likelihood of clinician visits for AA compared with White individuals.⁷

More evidence of the Black predominance of AA was demonstrated in a study published in 2018. In this large-scale study, 63,960 women from the Nurses’ Health Study (NHS) and 88,368 women from the Nurses’ Health Study II (NHSII) were included to examine prevalence of disease among these US women.⁸ Analysis showed increased odds of AA based on self-reported race in Black and Hispanic women. Lifetime incidence of AA was greater in Black women, with 2.63 and 5.23 in NHS and NHSII, respectively. It was hypothesized that hairstyling practices in Black and Hispanic women may cause AA to be more noticeable,⁸ which may drive patients to seek medical evaluation.

Feaster and McMichael⁹ published information on the epidemiology of AA in a busy hair loss clinic. This retrospective single-institution study of 265 pediatric and adult Black patients with AA seen over a 5-year period showed that patients aged 18 to 34 years were most likely to present for care, which accounted for 35.8% of the study population, followed by patients aged 10 to 17 years, which accounted for 15.1%. This study also found that females were the larger segment of AA patients, with an increased distribution of disease in young patients. Most of these patients (68.2%) had patchy hair loss, and the ophiasis pattern was seen in 15.1%.⁹ Although the pathogenesis of AA is linked to autoimmunity,¹⁰ the leading cause for these epidemiologic findings of increased prevalence in Black patients is still uncertain.

Baricitinib for AA

In June 2022, the FDA announced the first biologic drug approved for the treatment of AA—baricitinib. Baricitinib is an oral, selective, reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2.³ The phase 3 trials for baricitinib—BRAVE-AA1 (N=654) and BRAVE-AA2 (N=546)—were conducted between March 2019 and May 2020. In these double-blind, parallel-group, randomized, placebo-controlled trials, 33% of the patient population receiving baricitinib accomplished 80% or more scalp coverage at 36 weeks. The Severity of Alopecia Tool (SALT) score also decreased to 20 or less in 36 weeks. The BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 trials consisted of a total of 1200 patients, with only 98 identifying as Black. Of these 98 patients, 33 were randomly selected to receive placebo.³ With studies now suggesting that Black individuals have greater odds of AA compared with White individuals⁶ and Black patients being more likely to seek medical care for AA,⁷ the BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 study population did not allow for significant comparative data for Black patients. These studies did not document Latino patient involvement.³ Future studies in AA must recruit a diversified group of study participants to better reflect the patients with an increased likelihood of presenting with AA.

Other Treatments on the Horizon

Baricitinib likely will remain alone in its class for only a short time. Phase 3 trials have been completed for ritlecitinib, brepocitinib, and deuruxolitinib for AA. Ritlecitinib, an irreversible inhibitor of JAK3 and the tyrosine kinase expressed in hepatocellular carcinoma (TEC) kinase family, has met all end points in a phase 2b/3 study.¹¹ Brepocitinib is an oral tyrosine kinase 2/JAK1 inhibitor,¹² and deuruxolitinib is an investigational JAK1/2 inhibitor for AA.¹³

 

 

Insurance Coverage Considerations and Health Care Disparities

Prior authorizations have been the initial step for many drugs in varying fields of medical practice. A study completed in 2016 suggested that insurance coverage for biologics used in the treatment of psoriasis was becoming increasingly difficult.¹⁴ Prior authorization requirement rates increased from 16% of patients in 2009 to 75% in 2014. The decision time also increased from 3.7 days in 2009 to 6.7 days in 2014. The most common reason for delay in decisions and denials was due to step therapy.¹⁴ Insurance companies wanted many patients to try less expensive treatment options prior to “stepping up” to more expensive treatments. Although this may be the case in the treatment of psoriasis, the role of step therapy is unclear for patients with AA because there is only 1 FDA-approved medication. This sets out an ambiguous future for our patients with AA and approval for baricitinib.

The time required for the correspondence between insurance companies, clinic staff, and patients for drug approval may delay treatments, and not all providers have enough staff to coordinate and perform this work. For Black patients, who may present more frequently and with more severe disease,⁷ this could lead to a health care disparity due to the likelihood of the increased need for biologic treatment. Because Black patients have an increased likelihood of being uninsured or underinsured,¹⁵ this further decreases the chances of the most severe AA patients receiving the most helpful medication for their condition.

Many pharmaceutical companies have drug cost assistance programs that aim to provide support covering expensive medications for patients unable to afford them. Although this is a good first step, treatment with any JAK inhibitor potentially can be lifelong. Regarding the social determinants of health, it is known that access to medications does not solely depend on cost. Transportation and access to qualified health professionals are among the issues that create barriers to health care. Instilling long-term practices to ensure equal access to JAK inhibitors and treatment of AA may be the cornerstone to treating AA with equity. Whether we require pharmaceutical companies to make sure all patients have equal access to medications or provide community resources to hairstylists and federally qualified health centers, raising awareness and advocating for and creating attainable access to treatment modalities is imperative to providing well-rounded care to a diverse population.

With the introduction of the first US Food and Drug Administration (FDA)–approved medication for alopecia areata (AA)—the Janus kinase (JAK) inhibitor, baricitinib—there is an important focus on this disease in the literature and for practicing dermatologists. Known by all as an autoimmune genetic disease that causes relapsing and remitting nonscarring hair loss, AA is a condition where the psychological burden has been less widely recognized. Patients with AA have reported lower health-related quality of life scores compared to patients with other skin conditions, including psoriasis or atopic dermatitis. In addition, a lesser amount of scalp coverage is negatively correlated to health-related quality of life scores.¹ Patients with AA also have a 39% lifetime prevalence of major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder.² The treatment of AA has been a hodgepodge of topical, intralesional, and systemic agents, all with indirect immunosuppressive or anagen prolongation effects. Now that there is an approved therapy for AA with more treatments likely to be approved in the near future, there must be a focus on real-world outcomes. With the dawn of a new era in the treatment of AA as well as new information showcasing an altered prevalence of AA in skin of color, highlighting disparities among this population may help ease challenges dermatologic providers will face.

Efficacy of Baricitinib in Different Races and Ethnicities

How will patients of different races and ethnicities respond to this new treatment, and how will their emotional health be affected? The 2 phase 3 pivotal trials showing efficacy of baricitinib in AA included Black and Latino patients but not in a way that is representative of the US population.³ Until recently, the most commonly used prevalence of AA in the United States was from the NHANES I study completed between 1971 and 1974, which was between 0.1% and 0.2%⁴ with minimal focus on race and ethnicity. Recent studies suggest that there may be increased prevalence of this condition in Black patients in the United States. These new findings raise concern around access to care and treatment and the need to tailor psychosocial interventions for populations that may not currently have these supports.

A large cross-sectional study published in 2020 demonstrated that these data remained similar, with a lifetime prevalence of 0.21%.⁵ Of the 45,016 participants—representative of the US population based on the 2015 US Census—the average age of AA patients was 41.2 years, with 61.3% being White and not of Hispanic origin.⁵ In recent years, other studies have challenged the narrative that AA predominantly affects White patients.^6-8 A different cross-sectional study utilizing National Alopecia Areata Registry data from 2002 to 2016 suggested that Black patients have greater odds of developing AA.⁶ In this study of 2645 cases of AA, the odds ratios of developing the condition were 1.36 for Blacks, 0.53 for Asians, and 0.83 for Hispanics compared with the referent White population. These results were consistent through the varying subtypes of AA.⁶ In a reply to these findings, Gonzalez and Fleischer⁷ analyzed data from the 2007 to 2016 National Ambulatory Medical Care Survey database with a focus on racial and ethnic prevalence of AA. This study concluded that Latino and non-White individuals had an increased likelihood of clinician visits for AA compared with White individuals.⁷

More evidence of the Black predominance of AA was demonstrated in a study published in 2018. In this large-scale study, 63,960 women from the Nurses’ Health Study (NHS) and 88,368 women from the Nurses’ Health Study II (NHSII) were included to examine prevalence of disease among these US women.⁸ Analysis showed increased odds of AA based on self-reported race in Black and Hispanic women. Lifetime incidence of AA was greater in Black women, with 2.63 and 5.23 in NHS and NHSII, respectively. It was hypothesized that hairstyling practices in Black and Hispanic women may cause AA to be more noticeable,⁸ which may drive patients to seek medical evaluation.

Feaster and McMichael⁹ published information on the epidemiology of AA in a busy hair loss clinic. This retrospective single-institution study of 265 pediatric and adult Black patients with AA seen over a 5-year period showed that patients aged 18 to 34 years were most likely to present for care, which accounted for 35.8% of the study population, followed by patients aged 10 to 17 years, which accounted for 15.1%. This study also found that females were the larger segment of AA patients, with an increased distribution of disease in young patients. Most of these patients (68.2%) had patchy hair loss, and the ophiasis pattern was seen in 15.1%.⁹ Although the pathogenesis of AA is linked to autoimmunity,¹⁰ the leading cause for these epidemiologic findings of increased prevalence in Black patients is still uncertain.

Baricitinib for AA

In June 2022, the FDA announced the first biologic drug approved for the treatment of AA—baricitinib. Baricitinib is an oral, selective, reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2.³ The phase 3 trials for baricitinib—BRAVE-AA1 (N=654) and BRAVE-AA2 (N=546)—were conducted between March 2019 and May 2020. In these double-blind, parallel-group, randomized, placebo-controlled trials, 33% of the patient population receiving baricitinib accomplished 80% or more scalp coverage at 36 weeks. The Severity of Alopecia Tool (SALT) score also decreased to 20 or less in 36 weeks. The BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 trials consisted of a total of 1200 patients, with only 98 identifying as Black. Of these 98 patients, 33 were randomly selected to receive placebo.³ With studies now suggesting that Black individuals have greater odds of AA compared with White individuals⁶ and Black patients being more likely to seek medical care for AA,⁷ the BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 study population did not allow for significant comparative data for Black patients. These studies did not document Latino patient involvement.³ Future studies in AA must recruit a diversified group of study participants to better reflect the patients with an increased likelihood of presenting with AA.

Other Treatments on the Horizon

Baricitinib likely will remain alone in its class for only a short time. Phase 3 trials have been completed for ritlecitinib, brepocitinib, and deuruxolitinib for AA. Ritlecitinib, an irreversible inhibitor of JAK3 and the tyrosine kinase expressed in hepatocellular carcinoma (TEC) kinase family, has met all end points in a phase 2b/3 study.¹¹ Brepocitinib is an oral tyrosine kinase 2/JAK1 inhibitor,¹² and deuruxolitinib is an investigational JAK1/2 inhibitor for AA.¹³

 

 

Insurance Coverage Considerations and Health Care Disparities

Prior authorizations have been the initial step for many drugs in varying fields of medical practice. A study completed in 2016 suggested that insurance coverage for biologics used in the treatment of psoriasis was becoming increasingly difficult.¹⁴ Prior authorization requirement rates increased from 16% of patients in 2009 to 75% in 2014. The decision time also increased from 3.7 days in 2009 to 6.7 days in 2014. The most common reason for delay in decisions and denials was due to step therapy.¹⁴ Insurance companies wanted many patients to try less expensive treatment options prior to “stepping up” to more expensive treatments. Although this may be the case in the treatment of psoriasis, the role of step therapy is unclear for patients with AA because there is only 1 FDA-approved medication. This sets out an ambiguous future for our patients with AA and approval for baricitinib.

The time required for the correspondence between insurance companies, clinic staff, and patients for drug approval may delay treatments, and not all providers have enough staff to coordinate and perform this work. For Black patients, who may present more frequently and with more severe disease,⁷ this could lead to a health care disparity due to the likelihood of the increased need for biologic treatment. Because Black patients have an increased likelihood of being uninsured or underinsured,¹⁵ this further decreases the chances of the most severe AA patients receiving the most helpful medication for their condition.

Many pharmaceutical companies have drug cost assistance programs that aim to provide support covering expensive medications for patients unable to afford them. Although this is a good first step, treatment with any JAK inhibitor potentially can be lifelong. Regarding the social determinants of health, it is known that access to medications does not solely depend on cost. Transportation and access to qualified health professionals are among the issues that create barriers to health care. Instilling long-term practices to ensure equal access to JAK inhibitors and treatment of AA may be the cornerstone to treating AA with equity. Whether we require pharmaceutical companies to make sure all patients have equal access to medications or provide community resources to hairstylists and federally qualified health centers, raising awareness and advocating for and creating attainable access to treatment modalities is imperative to providing well-rounded care to a diverse population.

With the introduction of the first US Food and Drug Administration (FDA)–approved medication for alopecia areata (AA)—the Janus kinase (JAK) inhibitor, baricitinib—there is an important focus on this disease in the literature and for practicing dermatologists. Known by all as an autoimmune genetic disease that causes relapsing and remitting nonscarring hair loss, AA is a condition where the psychological burden has been less widely recognized. Patients with AA have reported lower health-related quality of life scores compared to patients with other skin conditions, including psoriasis or atopic dermatitis. In addition, a lesser amount of scalp coverage is negatively correlated to health-related quality of life scores.¹ Patients with AA also have a 39% lifetime prevalence of major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder.² The treatment of AA has been a hodgepodge of topical, intralesional, and systemic agents, all with indirect immunosuppressive or anagen prolongation effects. Now that there is an approved therapy for AA with more treatments likely to be approved in the near future, there must be a focus on real-world outcomes. With the dawn of a new era in the treatment of AA as well as new information showcasing an altered prevalence of AA in skin of color, highlighting disparities among this population may help ease challenges dermatologic providers will face.

Efficacy of Baricitinib in Different Races and Ethnicities

How will patients of different races and ethnicities respond to this new treatment, and how will their emotional health be affected? The 2 phase 3 pivotal trials showing efficacy of baricitinib in AA included Black and Latino patients but not in a way that is representative of the US population.³ Until recently, the most commonly used prevalence of AA in the United States was from the NHANES I study completed between 1971 and 1974, which was between 0.1% and 0.2%⁴ with minimal focus on race and ethnicity. Recent studies suggest that there may be increased prevalence of this condition in Black patients in the United States. These new findings raise concern around access to care and treatment and the need to tailor psychosocial interventions for populations that may not currently have these supports.

A large cross-sectional study published in 2020 demonstrated that these data remained similar, with a lifetime prevalence of 0.21%.⁵ Of the 45,016 participants—representative of the US population based on the 2015 US Census—the average age of AA patients was 41.2 years, with 61.3% being White and not of Hispanic origin.⁵ In recent years, other studies have challenged the narrative that AA predominantly affects White patients.^6-8 A different cross-sectional study utilizing National Alopecia Areata Registry data from 2002 to 2016 suggested that Black patients have greater odds of developing AA.⁶ In this study of 2645 cases of AA, the odds ratios of developing the condition were 1.36 for Blacks, 0.53 for Asians, and 0.83 for Hispanics compared with the referent White population. These results were consistent through the varying subtypes of AA.⁶ In a reply to these findings, Gonzalez and Fleischer⁷ analyzed data from the 2007 to 2016 National Ambulatory Medical Care Survey database with a focus on racial and ethnic prevalence of AA. This study concluded that Latino and non-White individuals had an increased likelihood of clinician visits for AA compared with White individuals.⁷

More evidence of the Black predominance of AA was demonstrated in a study published in 2018. In this large-scale study, 63,960 women from the Nurses’ Health Study (NHS) and 88,368 women from the Nurses’ Health Study II (NHSII) were included to examine prevalence of disease among these US women.⁸ Analysis showed increased odds of AA based on self-reported race in Black and Hispanic women. Lifetime incidence of AA was greater in Black women, with 2.63 and 5.23 in NHS and NHSII, respectively. It was hypothesized that hairstyling practices in Black and Hispanic women may cause AA to be more noticeable,⁸ which may drive patients to seek medical evaluation.

Feaster and McMichael⁹ published information on the epidemiology of AA in a busy hair loss clinic. This retrospective single-institution study of 265 pediatric and adult Black patients with AA seen over a 5-year period showed that patients aged 18 to 34 years were most likely to present for care, which accounted for 35.8% of the study population, followed by patients aged 10 to 17 years, which accounted for 15.1%. This study also found that females were the larger segment of AA patients, with an increased distribution of disease in young patients. Most of these patients (68.2%) had patchy hair loss, and the ophiasis pattern was seen in 15.1%.⁹ Although the pathogenesis of AA is linked to autoimmunity,¹⁰ the leading cause for these epidemiologic findings of increased prevalence in Black patients is still uncertain.

Baricitinib for AA

In June 2022, the FDA announced the first biologic drug approved for the treatment of AA—baricitinib. Baricitinib is an oral, selective, reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2.³ The phase 3 trials for baricitinib—BRAVE-AA1 (N=654) and BRAVE-AA2 (N=546)—were conducted between March 2019 and May 2020. In these double-blind, parallel-group, randomized, placebo-controlled trials, 33% of the patient population receiving baricitinib accomplished 80% or more scalp coverage at 36 weeks. The Severity of Alopecia Tool (SALT) score also decreased to 20 or less in 36 weeks. The BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 trials consisted of a total of 1200 patients, with only 98 identifying as Black. Of these 98 patients, 33 were randomly selected to receive placebo.³ With studies now suggesting that Black individuals have greater odds of AA compared with White individuals⁶ and Black patients being more likely to seek medical care for AA,⁷ the BRAVE-AA1 and BRAVE-AA2 study population did not allow for significant comparative data for Black patients. These studies did not document Latino patient involvement.³ Future studies in AA must recruit a diversified group of study participants to better reflect the patients with an increased likelihood of presenting with AA.

Other Treatments on the Horizon

Baricitinib likely will remain alone in its class for only a short time. Phase 3 trials have been completed for ritlecitinib, brepocitinib, and deuruxolitinib for AA. Ritlecitinib, an irreversible inhibitor of JAK3 and the tyrosine kinase expressed in hepatocellular carcinoma (TEC) kinase family, has met all end points in a phase 2b/3 study.¹¹ Brepocitinib is an oral tyrosine kinase 2/JAK1 inhibitor,¹² and deuruxolitinib is an investigational JAK1/2 inhibitor for AA.¹³

 

 

Insurance Coverage Considerations and Health Care Disparities

Prior authorizations have been the initial step for many drugs in varying fields of medical practice. A study completed in 2016 suggested that insurance coverage for biologics used in the treatment of psoriasis was becoming increasingly difficult.¹⁴ Prior authorization requirement rates increased from 16% of patients in 2009 to 75% in 2014. The decision time also increased from 3.7 days in 2009 to 6.7 days in 2014. The most common reason for delay in decisions and denials was due to step therapy.¹⁴ Insurance companies wanted many patients to try less expensive treatment options prior to “stepping up” to more expensive treatments. Although this may be the case in the treatment of psoriasis, the role of step therapy is unclear for patients with AA because there is only 1 FDA-approved medication. This sets out an ambiguous future for our patients with AA and approval for baricitinib.

The time required for the correspondence between insurance companies, clinic staff, and patients for drug approval may delay treatments, and not all providers have enough staff to coordinate and perform this work. For Black patients, who may present more frequently and with more severe disease,⁷ this could lead to a health care disparity due to the likelihood of the increased need for biologic treatment. Because Black patients have an increased likelihood of being uninsured or underinsured,¹⁵ this further decreases the chances of the most severe AA patients receiving the most helpful medication for their condition.

Many pharmaceutical companies have drug cost assistance programs that aim to provide support covering expensive medications for patients unable to afford them. Although this is a good first step, treatment with any JAK inhibitor potentially can be lifelong. Regarding the social determinants of health, it is known that access to medications does not solely depend on cost. Transportation and access to qualified health professionals are among the issues that create barriers to health care. Instilling long-term practices to ensure equal access to JAK inhibitors and treatment of AA may be the cornerstone to treating AA with equity. Whether we require pharmaceutical companies to make sure all patients have equal access to medications or provide community resources to hairstylists and federally qualified health centers, raising awareness and advocating for and creating attainable access to treatment modalities is imperative to providing well-rounded care to a diverse population.

“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980

The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.

Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.

Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.

Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.

Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.

Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”

Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.

Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.

Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.

Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.

While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.

“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”

Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?

One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.

In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.

“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”

When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.

Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.

The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.

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

“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980

The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.

Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.

Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.

Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.

Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.

Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”

Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.

Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.

Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.

Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.

While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.

“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”

Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?

One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.

In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.

“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”

When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.

Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.

The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.

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

“It is one of life’s most self-evident truths that everything fades, that we fear the fading, and that we must live, nonetheless, in the face of the fear.” – Irvin D. Yalom, MD, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980

The email was titled simply, “A sorrowful note,” and I knew that someone had died. I held my breath and read as Dr. Jimmy Potash informed our entire department that Dr. Cait McFarland died in a car accident on December 7 while driving to work at West Cecil Health Center, Conowingo, Md., where she was director of psychiatry.

Sadness swelled as I remembered the outspoken resident who was interested in LGBTQ issues. Cait graduated from the Johns Hopkins residency program in 2020, she had recently married a social worker in the department, and the plan was for her to return to Hopkins full-time in July 2023 to be director of a clinic focused on mental health for people who are transgendered.

Sudden deaths are tragic and jarring and they call to the surface our losses from the past. These deaths don’t stand alone – I found myself thinking of my editor at Medscape, Dr. Bret Stetka, who died unexpectedly in August 2022, and then of Dr. Lidia Palcan Wenz, a psychiatrist I trained with, who died in a motor vehicle accident in 2004. Lidia’s husband also died in the accident, while their two young children in the back seat survived – this tragedy haunted me for some time. None of these people was close to me, but I am no stranger to the impact of unexpected death: My parents and brother all died from cardiac events, and any sudden death is a reminder of those losses.

Julia Riddle, MD, trained with Cait McFarland and was her close friend for years. “I don’t have a belief in ‘the afterlife’ but do like to think of the people that I have lost together in my memory – as if they are all suddenly in a new room together. And, with each loss, all the other occupants of that room come freshly to life again,” Dr. Riddle said.

Death is our shared destination in life, but sudden and unexpected deaths carry their own weight. There is no chance to tie up loose ends, to repair riffs, to say goodbye. Nothing is put in order, and the life that was to be lived goes on for some time as bills arrive, social and work events go unattended, vacations are canceled, and there is the awkward moment of running into someone who didn’t know your loved one has died.

Roger Lewin, MD, is a psychiatrist and writer in Towson, Md. He has both personal and professional experience with sudden death. “There is no way to prepare beforehand, so we have to get ready for what has already happened, and that is hard,” he said. “We invent a life for ourselves and others that extends into the future, and that gets interrupted.”

Most people become ill and die on a vaguely predictable schedule. There may be a chance to plan, to know and honor the wishes of the individual, and often there is the opportunity for loved ones to begin the grieving process gradually as death approaches. For those who are elderly, there may be a sense that this is the natural order of things – which may or may not temper the intensity of the grief for those who remain. If the person has suffered, the end may come with relief.

Still, I sometimes find myself surprised at the length and intensity of anguish that some people experience after losing a loved one who has lived a long and full life, who declined and suffered, but whose absence remains a gaping wound that takes years to form a scar.

Sudden death is not rare; accidents, homicide, and suicide are the top killers among young people, and cardiovascular deaths are number one among those who are older. Natural disasters and terrorist attacks can cause catastrophic numbers of sudden deaths and leave survivors to grieve not only the dead, but the loss of all that was familiar to them.

Psychiatry has been a bit lost as to how we approach grief. We often hear patients talk about anxiety surrounding death and illness, be it a fear of death or a longing for it. These fears can seem irrational – I am reminded of a patient who was afraid to eat romaine because of news reports that it was responsible for food poisoning in other states, but not Maryland, where the person lived. I found it odd that he worried about eating lettuce, but not about smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

But our fears are like that – they move to what the media sensationalizes, or to what may be remote, because otherwise no one would get in a car or clear their walkway of snow. Life is most easily lived with a bit of denial: We shut out the reality that we can be here one moment, overscheduled and overwhelmed, with deadlines, mortgage payments, and summer vacation plans, oblivious to the fact that life may end at any moment. The early months of COVID-19 felt like a global game of Russian roulette, with each venture out a pull of the trigger and everyone’s defenses stripped bare.

While death belongs to us all, we relegate it to the disciplines of religion, philosophy, the arts, and psychology. Religion offers answers – whether a heaven, a hell, or continual reincarnation until the individual attains enlightenment, there is a destination. Perhaps it will be pleasant, perhaps not, and for some there is the hope that one gets to be the driver by having the right beliefs or doing good deeds, while others are comforted by the hope of being reunited with loved ones.

“The suddenness endures and the shock lasts – it’s like a meteor that creates a crater and we revisit it in different ways from different angles,” Dr. Lewin said. “It may leap on us unexpectedly, often many years later.”

Patients talk about death, and when their fears seem unrealistic we may long to reassure them, yet there is no reassurance and psychiatry grasps for how to help. Psychiatry has looked to draw lines for when normal grief crosses to abnormal. Is it an adjustment disorder, complicated grief, “prolonged” grief, pathology in need of medication and medicalization, or something one experiences individually, sometimes for a very long time even with treatment?

One justification for pathologizing “prolonged” reactions includes the fact that insurers will pay for treatment only if there is a diagnosis code, and shouldn’t people in distress be entitled to psychotherapy or medication? Yet there is something offensive about telling someone that they are mentally ill if they don’t grieve along a prescribed timeline, as much as there is about denying them the possible benefits of therapy or medication if they seek it, but are suffering in all the “right” ways. Psychiatry’s approach to death is inelegant at best.

In his poignant podcast series, All There Is, Anderson Cooper is tasked with sorting through his mother’s apartment after her death at age 95. In the course of packing up her belongings, he brings on other guests to talk about their emotional reactions to death. Mr. Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, died at an advanced age, but his father died after a brief cardiac illness when Mr. Cooper was a child, and his brother died by suicide when he was 21. He uses these experiences as a springboard to examine childhood losses, the aftermath of suicide, and the loneliness of grief.

“Loss and grief is this universal experience that we will all go through multiple times in our lives,” Mr. Cooper says, “And yet it leaves us feeling so alone and so separated from other people. At least it does me and has my entire life.”

When we talk about grief and loss, we talk about “getting over it,” or “moving on.” But loss doesn’t work that way – time usually eases the pain, leaving scars that are part of the road map for who we are on the journey that defines us.

Sudden death is hard, and the unexpected death of a young person is tragic. For Cait McFarland, there are the decades she won’t get to experience. For her family and friends, it may be excruciating, and for all the patients who have lost a psychiatrist, may time bring healing and peace.

The Dr. Caitlin McFarland Educational Fund for LGBTQI+ Mental Health is being established, and donations are being accepted at https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-cait-mcfarland.

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