Most children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome related to COVID-19 infection show recovery of cardiac function by 3 months, but longer term follow-up is still needed, suggests a new retrospective longitudinal cohort study.

While 80%-85% of children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome have cardiovascular involvement, “lack of knowledge about the short-term consequences of MIS-C has led to uncertainty among physicians in making recommendations about follow-up,” Daisuke Matsubara, MD, PhD, and colleagues wrote in their paper, which was published in the Journal of the American Heart Association.

Dr. Matsubara, of the department of pediatrics at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and colleagues examined cardiac outcomes among 60 patients aged 18 years or under admitted to two Philadelphia hospitals with MIS-C between April 2020 and January 2021. They compared those with outcomes in 60 age-matched healthy children who had undergone echocardiography for a range of non–COVID-related conditions such as chest pain or syncope.

The study used echocardiography, MRI, biochemistry, and functional and clinical parameters to assess the degree of change and damage to the heart at 3 months after admission.

When the patients first presented to a hospital, 42 had biochemical signs of myocardial injury, such as elevated brain-type natriuretic peptide and troponin levels. However, most patients’ symptoms were no longer present by the time they were discharged from hospital.

The researchers found that 81% of patients who presented with myocardial injury had lost the left atrial contraction phase. This dropped to 51% during the subacute phase, then 30% at 1 month. By 3-4 months, all patients achieved normal left atrial contraction phase.

At 1 month after admission, all MIS-C patients had significant signs of cardiac strain, compared with controls, including changes to global longitudinal strain, global circumferential strain, circumferential early diastolic strain rate, and right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain.
 

Parameters of strain normalized by 3 months

All parameters of strain had normalized, compared with controls, by 3 months. In the case of global longitudinal strain and left atrial strain, the median time to normalization was 6 days. For left ventricular ejection fraction the median time to normalization was 8 days and for right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain it was 9 days.

A small difference persisted with global longitudinal strain, but the authors said the difference was within the range of normal published values and not clinically relevant. The dysfunction appeared to be spread evenly across the heart rather than varying between segments, they noted.

“Deformation analysis could detect subtle myocardial changes; therefore, our study suggests the absence of persistent subclinical myocardial dysfunction after 3-4 months,” Dr. Matsubara said in an interview.

Four patients experienced small coronary aneurysms during the acute phase of MIS-C, but all had resolved within 2 months and none experienced any further lesions.

Among the 14 patients who underwent cardiac MRI at presentation, 2 had evidence of myocardial edema and fibrosis during the subacute phase of illness, despite having normal left ventricular systolic function and conventional echocardiography.

At follow-up, only one patient had residual edema; this individual had no evidence of fibrosis and had normal systolic function.
 

Study provides reassurance, but longer follow-up needed

Commenting on the study, pediatric cardiologist Devyani Chowdhury, MD, director of Cardiology Care for Children in Lancaster, Pa., said that overall it provided reassurance that most children do recover from MIS-C – and fits with her own clinical experience of the condition – but cautioned that longer-term follow-up was still needed.

“Three months is really not long term for a child,” Dr. Chowdhury said in an interview. “I’ve had a couple of patients whose MRIs have not normalized even after 1 year.”

Dr. Chowdhury also noted that it was a relatively small sample size, and it was also not yet possible to work out what host factors might play a role in increasing the risk of longer-term effects of MIS-C.

“I think it is a disease in evolution and we have to give it time, but in the very short term at least these kids are not dying, they are recovering, going home, and returning to activity and the heart is getting better,” she said.

The study authors suggested their findings could provide an evidence base for recommendations on when children with MIS-C can return to sports and physical activity, given that current consensus statements on the issue treat MIS-C as being equivalent to myocarditis in adults.

Dr. Matsubara noted that the cardiac outcomes of MIS-C were very different from those in COVID-19–affected adults, where echocardiography and MRI show longer-term evidence of myocardial impairments.

“This finding is also different from that of adult COVID-19, where the high troponin is reported to be the prognostic factor,” he said, suggesting this could explain different mechanisms of myocardial injury between MIS-C and COVID-19 myocarditis.

One author was supported by the National Institutes of Health. No conflicts of interest were declared.

Most children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome related to COVID-19 infection show recovery of cardiac function by 3 months, but longer term follow-up is still needed, suggests a new retrospective longitudinal cohort study.

While 80%-85% of children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome have cardiovascular involvement, “lack of knowledge about the short-term consequences of MIS-C has led to uncertainty among physicians in making recommendations about follow-up,” Daisuke Matsubara, MD, PhD, and colleagues wrote in their paper, which was published in the Journal of the American Heart Association.

Dr. Matsubara, of the department of pediatrics at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and colleagues examined cardiac outcomes among 60 patients aged 18 years or under admitted to two Philadelphia hospitals with MIS-C between April 2020 and January 2021. They compared those with outcomes in 60 age-matched healthy children who had undergone echocardiography for a range of non–COVID-related conditions such as chest pain or syncope.

The study used echocardiography, MRI, biochemistry, and functional and clinical parameters to assess the degree of change and damage to the heart at 3 months after admission.

When the patients first presented to a hospital, 42 had biochemical signs of myocardial injury, such as elevated brain-type natriuretic peptide and troponin levels. However, most patients’ symptoms were no longer present by the time they were discharged from hospital.

The researchers found that 81% of patients who presented with myocardial injury had lost the left atrial contraction phase. This dropped to 51% during the subacute phase, then 30% at 1 month. By 3-4 months, all patients achieved normal left atrial contraction phase.

At 1 month after admission, all MIS-C patients had significant signs of cardiac strain, compared with controls, including changes to global longitudinal strain, global circumferential strain, circumferential early diastolic strain rate, and right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain.
 

Parameters of strain normalized by 3 months

All parameters of strain had normalized, compared with controls, by 3 months. In the case of global longitudinal strain and left atrial strain, the median time to normalization was 6 days. For left ventricular ejection fraction the median time to normalization was 8 days and for right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain it was 9 days.

A small difference persisted with global longitudinal strain, but the authors said the difference was within the range of normal published values and not clinically relevant. The dysfunction appeared to be spread evenly across the heart rather than varying between segments, they noted.

“Deformation analysis could detect subtle myocardial changes; therefore, our study suggests the absence of persistent subclinical myocardial dysfunction after 3-4 months,” Dr. Matsubara said in an interview.

Four patients experienced small coronary aneurysms during the acute phase of MIS-C, but all had resolved within 2 months and none experienced any further lesions.

Among the 14 patients who underwent cardiac MRI at presentation, 2 had evidence of myocardial edema and fibrosis during the subacute phase of illness, despite having normal left ventricular systolic function and conventional echocardiography.

At follow-up, only one patient had residual edema; this individual had no evidence of fibrosis and had normal systolic function.
 

Study provides reassurance, but longer follow-up needed

Commenting on the study, pediatric cardiologist Devyani Chowdhury, MD, director of Cardiology Care for Children in Lancaster, Pa., said that overall it provided reassurance that most children do recover from MIS-C – and fits with her own clinical experience of the condition – but cautioned that longer-term follow-up was still needed.

“Three months is really not long term for a child,” Dr. Chowdhury said in an interview. “I’ve had a couple of patients whose MRIs have not normalized even after 1 year.”

Dr. Chowdhury also noted that it was a relatively small sample size, and it was also not yet possible to work out what host factors might play a role in increasing the risk of longer-term effects of MIS-C.

“I think it is a disease in evolution and we have to give it time, but in the very short term at least these kids are not dying, they are recovering, going home, and returning to activity and the heart is getting better,” she said.

The study authors suggested their findings could provide an evidence base for recommendations on when children with MIS-C can return to sports and physical activity, given that current consensus statements on the issue treat MIS-C as being equivalent to myocarditis in adults.

Dr. Matsubara noted that the cardiac outcomes of MIS-C were very different from those in COVID-19–affected adults, where echocardiography and MRI show longer-term evidence of myocardial impairments.

“This finding is also different from that of adult COVID-19, where the high troponin is reported to be the prognostic factor,” he said, suggesting this could explain different mechanisms of myocardial injury between MIS-C and COVID-19 myocarditis.

One author was supported by the National Institutes of Health. No conflicts of interest were declared.

Most children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome related to COVID-19 infection show recovery of cardiac function by 3 months, but longer term follow-up is still needed, suggests a new retrospective longitudinal cohort study.

While 80%-85% of children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome have cardiovascular involvement, “lack of knowledge about the short-term consequences of MIS-C has led to uncertainty among physicians in making recommendations about follow-up,” Daisuke Matsubara, MD, PhD, and colleagues wrote in their paper, which was published in the Journal of the American Heart Association.

Dr. Matsubara, of the department of pediatrics at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and colleagues examined cardiac outcomes among 60 patients aged 18 years or under admitted to two Philadelphia hospitals with MIS-C between April 2020 and January 2021. They compared those with outcomes in 60 age-matched healthy children who had undergone echocardiography for a range of non–COVID-related conditions such as chest pain or syncope.

The study used echocardiography, MRI, biochemistry, and functional and clinical parameters to assess the degree of change and damage to the heart at 3 months after admission.

When the patients first presented to a hospital, 42 had biochemical signs of myocardial injury, such as elevated brain-type natriuretic peptide and troponin levels. However, most patients’ symptoms were no longer present by the time they were discharged from hospital.

The researchers found that 81% of patients who presented with myocardial injury had lost the left atrial contraction phase. This dropped to 51% during the subacute phase, then 30% at 1 month. By 3-4 months, all patients achieved normal left atrial contraction phase.

At 1 month after admission, all MIS-C patients had significant signs of cardiac strain, compared with controls, including changes to global longitudinal strain, global circumferential strain, circumferential early diastolic strain rate, and right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain.
 

Parameters of strain normalized by 3 months

All parameters of strain had normalized, compared with controls, by 3 months. In the case of global longitudinal strain and left atrial strain, the median time to normalization was 6 days. For left ventricular ejection fraction the median time to normalization was 8 days and for right ventricular free wall longitudinal strain it was 9 days.

A small difference persisted with global longitudinal strain, but the authors said the difference was within the range of normal published values and not clinically relevant. The dysfunction appeared to be spread evenly across the heart rather than varying between segments, they noted.

“Deformation analysis could detect subtle myocardial changes; therefore, our study suggests the absence of persistent subclinical myocardial dysfunction after 3-4 months,” Dr. Matsubara said in an interview.

Four patients experienced small coronary aneurysms during the acute phase of MIS-C, but all had resolved within 2 months and none experienced any further lesions.

Among the 14 patients who underwent cardiac MRI at presentation, 2 had evidence of myocardial edema and fibrosis during the subacute phase of illness, despite having normal left ventricular systolic function and conventional echocardiography.

At follow-up, only one patient had residual edema; this individual had no evidence of fibrosis and had normal systolic function.
 

Study provides reassurance, but longer follow-up needed

Commenting on the study, pediatric cardiologist Devyani Chowdhury, MD, director of Cardiology Care for Children in Lancaster, Pa., said that overall it provided reassurance that most children do recover from MIS-C – and fits with her own clinical experience of the condition – but cautioned that longer-term follow-up was still needed.

“Three months is really not long term for a child,” Dr. Chowdhury said in an interview. “I’ve had a couple of patients whose MRIs have not normalized even after 1 year.”

Dr. Chowdhury also noted that it was a relatively small sample size, and it was also not yet possible to work out what host factors might play a role in increasing the risk of longer-term effects of MIS-C.

“I think it is a disease in evolution and we have to give it time, but in the very short term at least these kids are not dying, they are recovering, going home, and returning to activity and the heart is getting better,” she said.

The study authors suggested their findings could provide an evidence base for recommendations on when children with MIS-C can return to sports and physical activity, given that current consensus statements on the issue treat MIS-C as being equivalent to myocarditis in adults.

Dr. Matsubara noted that the cardiac outcomes of MIS-C were very different from those in COVID-19–affected adults, where echocardiography and MRI show longer-term evidence of myocardial impairments.

“This finding is also different from that of adult COVID-19, where the high troponin is reported to be the prognostic factor,” he said, suggesting this could explain different mechanisms of myocardial injury between MIS-C and COVID-19 myocarditis.

One author was supported by the National Institutes of Health. No conflicts of interest were declared.

A patient swore at me the other day. Not as in “she used a curse word.” As in she spewed fury, spitting out a vulgar, adverbial word before “... terrible doctor” while jabbing her finger toward me. In my 15 years of practice, I’d never had that happen before. Equally surprising, I was not surprised by her outburst. The level of incivility from patients is at an all-time high.

Her anger was misdirected. She wanted me to write a letter to her employer excusing her from getting a vaccine. It was neither indicated nor ethical for me to do so. I did my best to redirect her, but without success. As our chief of service, I often help with service concerns and am happy to see patients who want another opinion or want to speak with the department head (aka, “the manager”). Usually I can help. Lately, it’s become harder.

Not only are such rude incidents more frequent, but they are also more dramatic and inappropriate. For example, I cannot imagine writing a complaint against a doctor stating that she must be a foreign medical grad (as it happens, she’s Ivy League-trained) or demanding money back when a biopsy result turned out to be benign, or threatening to report a doctor to the medical board because he failed to schedule a follow-up appointment (that doctor had been retired for months). Patients have hung up on our staff mid-sentence and slammed a clinic door when they left in a huff. Why are so many previously sensible people throwing childlike tantrums?

It’s the same phenomenon happening to our fellow service agents across all industries. The Federal Aviation Administration’s graph of unruly passenger incidents is a flat line from 1995 to 2019, then it goes straight vertical. A recent survey showed that Americans’ sense of civility is low and worse, that people’s expectations that civility will improve is going down. It’s palpable. Last month, I witnessed a man and woman screaming at each other over Christmas lights in a busy store. An army of aproned walkie-talkie staff surrounded them and escorted them out – their coordination and efficiency clearly indicated they’d done this before. Customers everywhere are mad, frustrated, disenfranchised. Lately, a lot of things just are not working out for them. Supplies are out. Kids are sent home from school. No elective surgery appointments are available. The insta-gratification they’ve grown accustomed to from Amazon and DoorDash is colliding with the reality that not everything works that way.

The word “patient’’ you’ll recall comes from the Latin “patior,” meaning to suffer or bear. With virus variants raging, inflation growing, and call center wait times approaching infinity, many of our patients, it seems, cannot bear any more. I’m confident this situation will improve and our patients will be more reasonable in their expectations, but I am afraid that, in the end, we’ll have lost some decorum and dignity that we may never find again in medicine.

For my potty-mouthed patient, I made an excuse to leave the room to get my dermatoscope and walked out. It gave her time to calm down. I returned in a few minutes to do a skin exam. As I was wrapping up, I advised her that she cannot raise her voice or use offensive language and that she should know that I and everyone in our office cares about her and wants to help. She did apologize for her behavior, but then had to add that, if I really cared, I’d write the letter for her.

I guess the customer is not always right.

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]

A patient swore at me the other day. Not as in “she used a curse word.” As in she spewed fury, spitting out a vulgar, adverbial word before “... terrible doctor” while jabbing her finger toward me. In my 15 years of practice, I’d never had that happen before. Equally surprising, I was not surprised by her outburst. The level of incivility from patients is at an all-time high.

Her anger was misdirected. She wanted me to write a letter to her employer excusing her from getting a vaccine. It was neither indicated nor ethical for me to do so. I did my best to redirect her, but without success. As our chief of service, I often help with service concerns and am happy to see patients who want another opinion or want to speak with the department head (aka, “the manager”). Usually I can help. Lately, it’s become harder.

Not only are such rude incidents more frequent, but they are also more dramatic and inappropriate. For example, I cannot imagine writing a complaint against a doctor stating that she must be a foreign medical grad (as it happens, she’s Ivy League-trained) or demanding money back when a biopsy result turned out to be benign, or threatening to report a doctor to the medical board because he failed to schedule a follow-up appointment (that doctor had been retired for months). Patients have hung up on our staff mid-sentence and slammed a clinic door when they left in a huff. Why are so many previously sensible people throwing childlike tantrums?

It’s the same phenomenon happening to our fellow service agents across all industries. The Federal Aviation Administration’s graph of unruly passenger incidents is a flat line from 1995 to 2019, then it goes straight vertical. A recent survey showed that Americans’ sense of civility is low and worse, that people’s expectations that civility will improve is going down. It’s palpable. Last month, I witnessed a man and woman screaming at each other over Christmas lights in a busy store. An army of aproned walkie-talkie staff surrounded them and escorted them out – their coordination and efficiency clearly indicated they’d done this before. Customers everywhere are mad, frustrated, disenfranchised. Lately, a lot of things just are not working out for them. Supplies are out. Kids are sent home from school. No elective surgery appointments are available. The insta-gratification they’ve grown accustomed to from Amazon and DoorDash is colliding with the reality that not everything works that way.

The word “patient’’ you’ll recall comes from the Latin “patior,” meaning to suffer or bear. With virus variants raging, inflation growing, and call center wait times approaching infinity, many of our patients, it seems, cannot bear any more. I’m confident this situation will improve and our patients will be more reasonable in their expectations, but I am afraid that, in the end, we’ll have lost some decorum and dignity that we may never find again in medicine.

For my potty-mouthed patient, I made an excuse to leave the room to get my dermatoscope and walked out. It gave her time to calm down. I returned in a few minutes to do a skin exam. As I was wrapping up, I advised her that she cannot raise her voice or use offensive language and that she should know that I and everyone in our office cares about her and wants to help. She did apologize for her behavior, but then had to add that, if I really cared, I’d write the letter for her.

I guess the customer is not always right.

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]

A patient swore at me the other day. Not as in “she used a curse word.” As in she spewed fury, spitting out a vulgar, adverbial word before “... terrible doctor” while jabbing her finger toward me. In my 15 years of practice, I’d never had that happen before. Equally surprising, I was not surprised by her outburst. The level of incivility from patients is at an all-time high.

Her anger was misdirected. She wanted me to write a letter to her employer excusing her from getting a vaccine. It was neither indicated nor ethical for me to do so. I did my best to redirect her, but without success. As our chief of service, I often help with service concerns and am happy to see patients who want another opinion or want to speak with the department head (aka, “the manager”). Usually I can help. Lately, it’s become harder.

Not only are such rude incidents more frequent, but they are also more dramatic and inappropriate. For example, I cannot imagine writing a complaint against a doctor stating that she must be a foreign medical grad (as it happens, she’s Ivy League-trained) or demanding money back when a biopsy result turned out to be benign, or threatening to report a doctor to the medical board because he failed to schedule a follow-up appointment (that doctor had been retired for months). Patients have hung up on our staff mid-sentence and slammed a clinic door when they left in a huff. Why are so many previously sensible people throwing childlike tantrums?

It’s the same phenomenon happening to our fellow service agents across all industries. The Federal Aviation Administration’s graph of unruly passenger incidents is a flat line from 1995 to 2019, then it goes straight vertical. A recent survey showed that Americans’ sense of civility is low and worse, that people’s expectations that civility will improve is going down. It’s palpable. Last month, I witnessed a man and woman screaming at each other over Christmas lights in a busy store. An army of aproned walkie-talkie staff surrounded them and escorted them out – their coordination and efficiency clearly indicated they’d done this before. Customers everywhere are mad, frustrated, disenfranchised. Lately, a lot of things just are not working out for them. Supplies are out. Kids are sent home from school. No elective surgery appointments are available. The insta-gratification they’ve grown accustomed to from Amazon and DoorDash is colliding with the reality that not everything works that way.

The word “patient’’ you’ll recall comes from the Latin “patior,” meaning to suffer or bear. With virus variants raging, inflation growing, and call center wait times approaching infinity, many of our patients, it seems, cannot bear any more. I’m confident this situation will improve and our patients will be more reasonable in their expectations, but I am afraid that, in the end, we’ll have lost some decorum and dignity that we may never find again in medicine.

For my potty-mouthed patient, I made an excuse to leave the room to get my dermatoscope and walked out. It gave her time to calm down. I returned in a few minutes to do a skin exam. As I was wrapping up, I advised her that she cannot raise her voice or use offensive language and that she should know that I and everyone in our office cares about her and wants to help. She did apologize for her behavior, but then had to add that, if I really cared, I’d write the letter for her.

I guess the customer is not always right.

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]

The White Coat Ceremony is an enduring memory from my medical school years. Amidst the tumult of memories of seemingly endless sleepless nights spent in libraries and cramming for clerkship examinations between surgical cases, I recall a sunny spring day in 2016 where I gathered with my classmates, family, and friends in the medical school campus courtyard. There were several short, mostly forgotten speeches after which proud fathers and mothers, partners, or siblings slipped the all-important white coat onto the shoulders of the physicians-to-be. At that moment, I felt the weight of tradition centuries in the making resting on my shoulders. Of course, the pomp of the ceremony might have felt a tad overblown had I known that the whole thing had fewer years under its belt than the movie Die Hard.

That’s right, the first White Coat Ceremony was held 5 years after the release of that Bruce Willis classic. Dr. Arnold Gold, a pediatric neurologist on faculty at Columbia University, conceived the ceremony in 1993, and it spread rapidly to medical schools—and later nursing schools—across the United States.¹ Although the values highlighted by the White Coat Ceremony—humanism and compassion in medicine—are timeless, the ceremony itself is a more modern undertaking. What, then, of the white coat itself? Is it the timeless symbol of doctoring—of medicine—that we all presume it to be? Or is it a symbol of modern marketing, just a trend that caught on? And is it encountering its twilight—as trends often do—in the face of changing fashion and, more fundamentally, in changes to who our physicians are and to their roles in our society?

The Cleanliness of the White Coat

Until the end of the 19th century, physicians in the Western world most frequently dressed in black formal wear. The rationale behind this attire seems to have been twofold. First, society as a whole perceived the physician’s work as a serious and formal matter, and any medical encounter had to reflect the gravity of the occasion. Additionally, physicians’ visits often were a portent of impending demise, as physicians in the era prior to antibiotics and antisepsis frequently had little to offer their patients outside of—at best—anecdotal treatments and—at worst—sheer quackery.² Black may have seemed a respectful choice for patients who likely faced dire outcomes regardless of the treatment afforded.³

With the turn of the century came a new understanding of the concepts of antisepsis and disease transmission. While Joseph Lister first published on the use of antisepsis in 1867, his practices did not become commonplace until the early 1900s.⁴ Around the same time came the Flexner report,⁵ the publication of William Osler’s Principles and Practice of Medicine,⁶ and the establishment of the modern medical residency, all of which contributed to the shift from the patient’s own bedside and to the hospital as the house of medicine, with cleanliness and antisepsis as part of its core principles.⁷ The white coat arose as a symbol of purity and freedom from disease. Throughout the 20th century and into the 21st, it has remained the predominant symbol of cleanliness and professionalism for the medical practitioner.

Patient Preference of Physician Attire

Although the white coat may serve as a professional symbol and is well respected medicine, it also plays an important role in the layperson’s perception of their health care providers.⁸ There is little denying that patients prefer their physicians, almost uniformly, to wear a white coat. A systematic review of physician attire that included 30 studies mainly from North America, Europe, and the United Kingdom found that patient preference for formal attire and white coats is near universal.⁹ Patients routinely rate physicians wearing a white coat as more intelligent and trustworthy and feel more confident in the care they will receive.^10-13 They also freely admit that a physician’s appearance influences their satisfaction with their care.¹⁴ The recent adoption of the fleece, or softshell, jacket has not yet pervaded patients’ perceptions of what is considered appropriate physician attire. A 500-respondent survey found that patients were more likely to rate a model wearing a white coat as more professional and experienced compared to the same model wearing a fleece or softshell jacket or other formal attire sans white coat.¹⁵

Closer examination of the same data, however, reveals results reproduced with startling consistency across several studies, which suggest those of us adopting other attire need not dig those white coats out of the closet just yet. First, while many studies point to patient preference for white coats, this preference is uniformly strongest in older patients, beginning around age 40 years and becoming an entrenched preference in those older than 65 years.^9,14,16-18 On the other hand, younger patient populations display little to no such preference, and some studies indicate that younger patients actually prefer scrubs over formal attire in specific settings such as surgical offices, procedural spaces, or the emergency department.^12,14,19 This suggests that bias in favor of traditional physician garb may be more linked to age demographics and may continue to shift as the overall population ages. Additionally, although patients might profess a strong preference for physician attire in theory, it often does not translate into any impact on the patient’s perception of the physician following a clinic visit. The large systematic review on the topic noted that only 25% of studies that surveyed patients about a clinical visit following the encounter reported that physician attire influenced their satisfaction with that visit, suggesting that attire may be less likely to influence patients in the real-world context of receiving care.⁹ In fact, a prospective study of patient perception of medical staff and interactions found that staff style of dress not only had no bearing on the perception of staff or visit satisfaction but that patients often failed to even accurately recall physician attire when surveyed.²⁰ Another survey study echoed these conclusions, finding that physician attire had no effect on the perception of a proposed treatment plan.²¹

What do we know about patient perception of physician attire in the dermatology setting specifically, where visits can be unique in their tendency to transition from medical to procedural in the span of a 15-minute encounter depending on the patient’s chief concern? A survey study of dermatology patients at the general, surgical, and wound care dermatology clinics of an academic medical center (Miami, Florida) found that professional attire with a white coat was strongly preferred across a litany of scenarios assessing many aspects of dermatologic care.²¹ Similarly, a study of patients visiting a single institution’s dermatology and pediatric dermatology clinics surveyed patients and parents regarding attire prior to an appointment and specifically asked if a white coat should be worn.¹³ Fifty-four percent of the adult patients (n=176) surveyed professed a preference for physicians in white coats, with a stronger preference for white coats reported by those 50 years and older (55%; n=113). Parents or guardians presenting to the pediatric dermatology clinic, on the other hand, favored less formal attire.¹³ A recent, real-world study performed at an outpatient dermatology clinic examined the influence of changing physician attire on a patient’s perceptions of care received during clinic encounters. They found no substantial difference in patient satisfaction scores before and following the adoption of a new clinic uniform that transitioned from formal attire to fitted scrubs.²²

 

 

Racial and Gender Bias Affecting Attire Preference

With any study of preference, there is the underlying concern over respondent bias. Many of the studies discussed here have found secondarily that a patient’s implicit bias does not end at the clothes their physician is wearing. The survey study of dermatology patients from the academic medical center in Miami, Florida, found that patients preferred that Black physicians of either sex be garbed in professional attire at all times but generally were more accepting of White physicians in less formal attire.²¹ Adamson et al²³ published a response to the study’s findings urging dermatologists to recognize that a physician’s race and gender influence patients’ perceptions in much the same way that physician attire seems to and encouraged the development of a more diverse dermatologic workforce to help combat this prejudice. The issue of bias is not limited to the specialty of dermatology; the recent survey study by Xun et al¹⁵ found that respondents consistently rated female models garbed in physician attire as less professional than male model counterparts. Additionally, female models wearing white coats were mistakenly identified as medical technicians, physician assistants, or nurses with substantially more frequency than males, despite being clothed in the traditional physician garb. Several other publications on the subject have uncovered implicit bias, though it is rarely, if ever, the principle focus of the study.^10,24,25 As is unfortunately true in many professions, female physicians and physicians from ethnic minorities face barriers to being perceived as fully competent physicians.

Impact of the COVID-19 Pandemic

Finally, of course, there is the ever-present question of the effect of the pandemic. Although the exact role of the white coat as a fomite for infection—and especially for the spread of viral illness—remains controversial, the perception nonetheless has helped catalyze the movement to alternatives such as short-sleeved white coats, technical jackets, and more recently, fitted scrubs.^26-29 As with much in this realm, facts seem less important than perceptions; Zahrina et al³⁰ found that when patients were presented with information regarding the risk for microbial contamination associated with white coats, preference for physicians in professional garb plummeted from 72% to only 22%. To date no articles have examined patient perceptions of the white coat in the context of microbial transmission in the age of COVID-19, but future articles on this topic are likely and may serve to further the demise of the white coat.

Final Thoughts

From my vantage point, it seems the white coat will be claimed by the outgoing tide. During this most recent residency interview season, I do not recall a single medical student wearing a short white coat. The closest I came was a quick glimpse of a crumpled white jacket slung over an arm or stuffed in a shoulder bag. Rotating interns and residents from other services on rotation in our department present in softshell or fleece jackets. Fitted scrubs in the newest trendy colors speckle a previously all-white canvas. I, for one, have not donned my own white coat in at least a year, and perhaps it is all for the best. Physician attire is one small aspect of the practice of medicine and likely bears little, if any, relation to the wearer’s qualifications. Our focus should be on building rapport with our patients, providing high-quality care, reducing the risk for nosocomial infection, and developing a health care system that is fair and equitable for patients and health care workers alike, not on who is wearing what. Perhaps the introduction of new physician attire is a small part of the disruption we need to help address persistent gender and racial biases in our field and help shepherd our patients and colleagues to a worldview that is more open and accepting of physicians of diverse backgrounds.

The White Coat Ceremony is an enduring memory from my medical school years. Amidst the tumult of memories of seemingly endless sleepless nights spent in libraries and cramming for clerkship examinations between surgical cases, I recall a sunny spring day in 2016 where I gathered with my classmates, family, and friends in the medical school campus courtyard. There were several short, mostly forgotten speeches after which proud fathers and mothers, partners, or siblings slipped the all-important white coat onto the shoulders of the physicians-to-be. At that moment, I felt the weight of tradition centuries in the making resting on my shoulders. Of course, the pomp of the ceremony might have felt a tad overblown had I known that the whole thing had fewer years under its belt than the movie Die Hard.

That’s right, the first White Coat Ceremony was held 5 years after the release of that Bruce Willis classic. Dr. Arnold Gold, a pediatric neurologist on faculty at Columbia University, conceived the ceremony in 1993, and it spread rapidly to medical schools—and later nursing schools—across the United States.¹ Although the values highlighted by the White Coat Ceremony—humanism and compassion in medicine—are timeless, the ceremony itself is a more modern undertaking. What, then, of the white coat itself? Is it the timeless symbol of doctoring—of medicine—that we all presume it to be? Or is it a symbol of modern marketing, just a trend that caught on? And is it encountering its twilight—as trends often do—in the face of changing fashion and, more fundamentally, in changes to who our physicians are and to their roles in our society?

The Cleanliness of the White Coat

Until the end of the 19th century, physicians in the Western world most frequently dressed in black formal wear. The rationale behind this attire seems to have been twofold. First, society as a whole perceived the physician’s work as a serious and formal matter, and any medical encounter had to reflect the gravity of the occasion. Additionally, physicians’ visits often were a portent of impending demise, as physicians in the era prior to antibiotics and antisepsis frequently had little to offer their patients outside of—at best—anecdotal treatments and—at worst—sheer quackery.² Black may have seemed a respectful choice for patients who likely faced dire outcomes regardless of the treatment afforded.³

With the turn of the century came a new understanding of the concepts of antisepsis and disease transmission. While Joseph Lister first published on the use of antisepsis in 1867, his practices did not become commonplace until the early 1900s.⁴ Around the same time came the Flexner report,⁵ the publication of William Osler’s Principles and Practice of Medicine,⁶ and the establishment of the modern medical residency, all of which contributed to the shift from the patient’s own bedside and to the hospital as the house of medicine, with cleanliness and antisepsis as part of its core principles.⁷ The white coat arose as a symbol of purity and freedom from disease. Throughout the 20th century and into the 21st, it has remained the predominant symbol of cleanliness and professionalism for the medical practitioner.

Patient Preference of Physician Attire

Although the white coat may serve as a professional symbol and is well respected medicine, it also plays an important role in the layperson’s perception of their health care providers.⁸ There is little denying that patients prefer their physicians, almost uniformly, to wear a white coat. A systematic review of physician attire that included 30 studies mainly from North America, Europe, and the United Kingdom found that patient preference for formal attire and white coats is near universal.⁹ Patients routinely rate physicians wearing a white coat as more intelligent and trustworthy and feel more confident in the care they will receive.^10-13 They also freely admit that a physician’s appearance influences their satisfaction with their care.¹⁴ The recent adoption of the fleece, or softshell, jacket has not yet pervaded patients’ perceptions of what is considered appropriate physician attire. A 500-respondent survey found that patients were more likely to rate a model wearing a white coat as more professional and experienced compared to the same model wearing a fleece or softshell jacket or other formal attire sans white coat.¹⁵

Closer examination of the same data, however, reveals results reproduced with startling consistency across several studies, which suggest those of us adopting other attire need not dig those white coats out of the closet just yet. First, while many studies point to patient preference for white coats, this preference is uniformly strongest in older patients, beginning around age 40 years and becoming an entrenched preference in those older than 65 years.^9,14,16-18 On the other hand, younger patient populations display little to no such preference, and some studies indicate that younger patients actually prefer scrubs over formal attire in specific settings such as surgical offices, procedural spaces, or the emergency department.^12,14,19 This suggests that bias in favor of traditional physician garb may be more linked to age demographics and may continue to shift as the overall population ages. Additionally, although patients might profess a strong preference for physician attire in theory, it often does not translate into any impact on the patient’s perception of the physician following a clinic visit. The large systematic review on the topic noted that only 25% of studies that surveyed patients about a clinical visit following the encounter reported that physician attire influenced their satisfaction with that visit, suggesting that attire may be less likely to influence patients in the real-world context of receiving care.⁹ In fact, a prospective study of patient perception of medical staff and interactions found that staff style of dress not only had no bearing on the perception of staff or visit satisfaction but that patients often failed to even accurately recall physician attire when surveyed.²⁰ Another survey study echoed these conclusions, finding that physician attire had no effect on the perception of a proposed treatment plan.²¹

What do we know about patient perception of physician attire in the dermatology setting specifically, where visits can be unique in their tendency to transition from medical to procedural in the span of a 15-minute encounter depending on the patient’s chief concern? A survey study of dermatology patients at the general, surgical, and wound care dermatology clinics of an academic medical center (Miami, Florida) found that professional attire with a white coat was strongly preferred across a litany of scenarios assessing many aspects of dermatologic care.²¹ Similarly, a study of patients visiting a single institution’s dermatology and pediatric dermatology clinics surveyed patients and parents regarding attire prior to an appointment and specifically asked if a white coat should be worn.¹³ Fifty-four percent of the adult patients (n=176) surveyed professed a preference for physicians in white coats, with a stronger preference for white coats reported by those 50 years and older (55%; n=113). Parents or guardians presenting to the pediatric dermatology clinic, on the other hand, favored less formal attire.¹³ A recent, real-world study performed at an outpatient dermatology clinic examined the influence of changing physician attire on a patient’s perceptions of care received during clinic encounters. They found no substantial difference in patient satisfaction scores before and following the adoption of a new clinic uniform that transitioned from formal attire to fitted scrubs.²²

 

 

Racial and Gender Bias Affecting Attire Preference

With any study of preference, there is the underlying concern over respondent bias. Many of the studies discussed here have found secondarily that a patient’s implicit bias does not end at the clothes their physician is wearing. The survey study of dermatology patients from the academic medical center in Miami, Florida, found that patients preferred that Black physicians of either sex be garbed in professional attire at all times but generally were more accepting of White physicians in less formal attire.²¹ Adamson et al²³ published a response to the study’s findings urging dermatologists to recognize that a physician’s race and gender influence patients’ perceptions in much the same way that physician attire seems to and encouraged the development of a more diverse dermatologic workforce to help combat this prejudice. The issue of bias is not limited to the specialty of dermatology; the recent survey study by Xun et al¹⁵ found that respondents consistently rated female models garbed in physician attire as less professional than male model counterparts. Additionally, female models wearing white coats were mistakenly identified as medical technicians, physician assistants, or nurses with substantially more frequency than males, despite being clothed in the traditional physician garb. Several other publications on the subject have uncovered implicit bias, though it is rarely, if ever, the principle focus of the study.^10,24,25 As is unfortunately true in many professions, female physicians and physicians from ethnic minorities face barriers to being perceived as fully competent physicians.

Impact of the COVID-19 Pandemic

Finally, of course, there is the ever-present question of the effect of the pandemic. Although the exact role of the white coat as a fomite for infection—and especially for the spread of viral illness—remains controversial, the perception nonetheless has helped catalyze the movement to alternatives such as short-sleeved white coats, technical jackets, and more recently, fitted scrubs.^26-29 As with much in this realm, facts seem less important than perceptions; Zahrina et al³⁰ found that when patients were presented with information regarding the risk for microbial contamination associated with white coats, preference for physicians in professional garb plummeted from 72% to only 22%. To date no articles have examined patient perceptions of the white coat in the context of microbial transmission in the age of COVID-19, but future articles on this topic are likely and may serve to further the demise of the white coat.

Final Thoughts

From my vantage point, it seems the white coat will be claimed by the outgoing tide. During this most recent residency interview season, I do not recall a single medical student wearing a short white coat. The closest I came was a quick glimpse of a crumpled white jacket slung over an arm or stuffed in a shoulder bag. Rotating interns and residents from other services on rotation in our department present in softshell or fleece jackets. Fitted scrubs in the newest trendy colors speckle a previously all-white canvas. I, for one, have not donned my own white coat in at least a year, and perhaps it is all for the best. Physician attire is one small aspect of the practice of medicine and likely bears little, if any, relation to the wearer’s qualifications. Our focus should be on building rapport with our patients, providing high-quality care, reducing the risk for nosocomial infection, and developing a health care system that is fair and equitable for patients and health care workers alike, not on who is wearing what. Perhaps the introduction of new physician attire is a small part of the disruption we need to help address persistent gender and racial biases in our field and help shepherd our patients and colleagues to a worldview that is more open and accepting of physicians of diverse backgrounds.

The White Coat Ceremony is an enduring memory from my medical school years. Amidst the tumult of memories of seemingly endless sleepless nights spent in libraries and cramming for clerkship examinations between surgical cases, I recall a sunny spring day in 2016 where I gathered with my classmates, family, and friends in the medical school campus courtyard. There were several short, mostly forgotten speeches after which proud fathers and mothers, partners, or siblings slipped the all-important white coat onto the shoulders of the physicians-to-be. At that moment, I felt the weight of tradition centuries in the making resting on my shoulders. Of course, the pomp of the ceremony might have felt a tad overblown had I known that the whole thing had fewer years under its belt than the movie Die Hard.

That’s right, the first White Coat Ceremony was held 5 years after the release of that Bruce Willis classic. Dr. Arnold Gold, a pediatric neurologist on faculty at Columbia University, conceived the ceremony in 1993, and it spread rapidly to medical schools—and later nursing schools—across the United States.¹ Although the values highlighted by the White Coat Ceremony—humanism and compassion in medicine—are timeless, the ceremony itself is a more modern undertaking. What, then, of the white coat itself? Is it the timeless symbol of doctoring—of medicine—that we all presume it to be? Or is it a symbol of modern marketing, just a trend that caught on? And is it encountering its twilight—as trends often do—in the face of changing fashion and, more fundamentally, in changes to who our physicians are and to their roles in our society?

The Cleanliness of the White Coat

Until the end of the 19th century, physicians in the Western world most frequently dressed in black formal wear. The rationale behind this attire seems to have been twofold. First, society as a whole perceived the physician’s work as a serious and formal matter, and any medical encounter had to reflect the gravity of the occasion. Additionally, physicians’ visits often were a portent of impending demise, as physicians in the era prior to antibiotics and antisepsis frequently had little to offer their patients outside of—at best—anecdotal treatments and—at worst—sheer quackery.² Black may have seemed a respectful choice for patients who likely faced dire outcomes regardless of the treatment afforded.³

With the turn of the century came a new understanding of the concepts of antisepsis and disease transmission. While Joseph Lister first published on the use of antisepsis in 1867, his practices did not become commonplace until the early 1900s.⁴ Around the same time came the Flexner report,⁵ the publication of William Osler’s Principles and Practice of Medicine,⁶ and the establishment of the modern medical residency, all of which contributed to the shift from the patient’s own bedside and to the hospital as the house of medicine, with cleanliness and antisepsis as part of its core principles.⁷ The white coat arose as a symbol of purity and freedom from disease. Throughout the 20th century and into the 21st, it has remained the predominant symbol of cleanliness and professionalism for the medical practitioner.

Patient Preference of Physician Attire

Although the white coat may serve as a professional symbol and is well respected medicine, it also plays an important role in the layperson’s perception of their health care providers.⁸ There is little denying that patients prefer their physicians, almost uniformly, to wear a white coat. A systematic review of physician attire that included 30 studies mainly from North America, Europe, and the United Kingdom found that patient preference for formal attire and white coats is near universal.⁹ Patients routinely rate physicians wearing a white coat as more intelligent and trustworthy and feel more confident in the care they will receive.^10-13 They also freely admit that a physician’s appearance influences their satisfaction with their care.¹⁴ The recent adoption of the fleece, or softshell, jacket has not yet pervaded patients’ perceptions of what is considered appropriate physician attire. A 500-respondent survey found that patients were more likely to rate a model wearing a white coat as more professional and experienced compared to the same model wearing a fleece or softshell jacket or other formal attire sans white coat.¹⁵

Closer examination of the same data, however, reveals results reproduced with startling consistency across several studies, which suggest those of us adopting other attire need not dig those white coats out of the closet just yet. First, while many studies point to patient preference for white coats, this preference is uniformly strongest in older patients, beginning around age 40 years and becoming an entrenched preference in those older than 65 years.^9,14,16-18 On the other hand, younger patient populations display little to no such preference, and some studies indicate that younger patients actually prefer scrubs over formal attire in specific settings such as surgical offices, procedural spaces, or the emergency department.^12,14,19 This suggests that bias in favor of traditional physician garb may be more linked to age demographics and may continue to shift as the overall population ages. Additionally, although patients might profess a strong preference for physician attire in theory, it often does not translate into any impact on the patient’s perception of the physician following a clinic visit. The large systematic review on the topic noted that only 25% of studies that surveyed patients about a clinical visit following the encounter reported that physician attire influenced their satisfaction with that visit, suggesting that attire may be less likely to influence patients in the real-world context of receiving care.⁹ In fact, a prospective study of patient perception of medical staff and interactions found that staff style of dress not only had no bearing on the perception of staff or visit satisfaction but that patients often failed to even accurately recall physician attire when surveyed.²⁰ Another survey study echoed these conclusions, finding that physician attire had no effect on the perception of a proposed treatment plan.²¹

What do we know about patient perception of physician attire in the dermatology setting specifically, where visits can be unique in their tendency to transition from medical to procedural in the span of a 15-minute encounter depending on the patient’s chief concern? A survey study of dermatology patients at the general, surgical, and wound care dermatology clinics of an academic medical center (Miami, Florida) found that professional attire with a white coat was strongly preferred across a litany of scenarios assessing many aspects of dermatologic care.²¹ Similarly, a study of patients visiting a single institution’s dermatology and pediatric dermatology clinics surveyed patients and parents regarding attire prior to an appointment and specifically asked if a white coat should be worn.¹³ Fifty-four percent of the adult patients (n=176) surveyed professed a preference for physicians in white coats, with a stronger preference for white coats reported by those 50 years and older (55%; n=113). Parents or guardians presenting to the pediatric dermatology clinic, on the other hand, favored less formal attire.¹³ A recent, real-world study performed at an outpatient dermatology clinic examined the influence of changing physician attire on a patient’s perceptions of care received during clinic encounters. They found no substantial difference in patient satisfaction scores before and following the adoption of a new clinic uniform that transitioned from formal attire to fitted scrubs.²²

 

 

Racial and Gender Bias Affecting Attire Preference

With any study of preference, there is the underlying concern over respondent bias. Many of the studies discussed here have found secondarily that a patient’s implicit bias does not end at the clothes their physician is wearing. The survey study of dermatology patients from the academic medical center in Miami, Florida, found that patients preferred that Black physicians of either sex be garbed in professional attire at all times but generally were more accepting of White physicians in less formal attire.²¹ Adamson et al²³ published a response to the study’s findings urging dermatologists to recognize that a physician’s race and gender influence patients’ perceptions in much the same way that physician attire seems to and encouraged the development of a more diverse dermatologic workforce to help combat this prejudice. The issue of bias is not limited to the specialty of dermatology; the recent survey study by Xun et al¹⁵ found that respondents consistently rated female models garbed in physician attire as less professional than male model counterparts. Additionally, female models wearing white coats were mistakenly identified as medical technicians, physician assistants, or nurses with substantially more frequency than males, despite being clothed in the traditional physician garb. Several other publications on the subject have uncovered implicit bias, though it is rarely, if ever, the principle focus of the study.^10,24,25 As is unfortunately true in many professions, female physicians and physicians from ethnic minorities face barriers to being perceived as fully competent physicians.

Impact of the COVID-19 Pandemic

Finally, of course, there is the ever-present question of the effect of the pandemic. Although the exact role of the white coat as a fomite for infection—and especially for the spread of viral illness—remains controversial, the perception nonetheless has helped catalyze the movement to alternatives such as short-sleeved white coats, technical jackets, and more recently, fitted scrubs.^26-29 As with much in this realm, facts seem less important than perceptions; Zahrina et al³⁰ found that when patients were presented with information regarding the risk for microbial contamination associated with white coats, preference for physicians in professional garb plummeted from 72% to only 22%. To date no articles have examined patient perceptions of the white coat in the context of microbial transmission in the age of COVID-19, but future articles on this topic are likely and may serve to further the demise of the white coat.

Final Thoughts

From my vantage point, it seems the white coat will be claimed by the outgoing tide. During this most recent residency interview season, I do not recall a single medical student wearing a short white coat. The closest I came was a quick glimpse of a crumpled white jacket slung over an arm or stuffed in a shoulder bag. Rotating interns and residents from other services on rotation in our department present in softshell or fleece jackets. Fitted scrubs in the newest trendy colors speckle a previously all-white canvas. I, for one, have not donned my own white coat in at least a year, and perhaps it is all for the best. Physician attire is one small aspect of the practice of medicine and likely bears little, if any, relation to the wearer’s qualifications. Our focus should be on building rapport with our patients, providing high-quality care, reducing the risk for nosocomial infection, and developing a health care system that is fair and equitable for patients and health care workers alike, not on who is wearing what. Perhaps the introduction of new physician attire is a small part of the disruption we need to help address persistent gender and racial biases in our field and help shepherd our patients and colleagues to a worldview that is more open and accepting of physicians of diverse backgrounds.

Behavior problems, anxiety, and depression in youths were associated with these individuals participating in remote schooling during broader social lockdowns in a new study.

The systematic review, which was published in JAMA Pediatrics on Jan. 18, 2022, was based on data from 36 studies from 11 countries on mental health, physical health, and well-being in children and adolescents aged 0-18 years. The total population included 79,781 children and 18,028 parents or caregivers. The studies reflected the first wave of pandemic school closures and lockdowns from February to July 2020, with the duration of school closure ranging from 1 week to 3 months.

“There are strong theoretical reasons to suggest that school closures may have contributed to a considerable proportion of the harms identified here, particularly mental health harms, through reduction in social contacts with peers and teachers,” Russell Viner, PhD, of UCL Great Ormond St Institute of Child Health, London, and colleagues wrote in their paper.

The researchers included 9 longitudinal pre-post studies, 5 cohort studies, 21 cross-sectional studies, and 1 modeling study in their analysis. Overall, approximately one-third of the studies (36%) were considered high quality, and approximately two-thirds (64%) of the studies were published in journals. Twenty-five of the reports analyzed focused on mental health and well-being.

Schools provide not only education, but also services including meals, health care, and health supplies. Schools also serve as a safety net and source of social support for children, the researchers noted.

The losses children may have experienced during school closures occurred during a time when more than 167,000 children younger than 18 years lost a parent or caregiver to COVID-19, according to a recent report titled “Hidden Pain” by researchers at the University of Pennsylvania, Nemours Children’s Health, and the COVID Collaborative. Although not addressed in the current study, school closures would prevent bereaved children from receiving social-emotional support from friends and teachers. This crisis of loss also prompted the American Academy of Pediatrics to issue a National State of Emergency in Children’s Mental Health in October 2021.
 

New study results

These studies identified associations between school closures during broader lockdowns and increased emotional and behavioral problems, as well as increased restlessness and inattention. Across these studies, 18%-60% of children and adolescents scored higher than the risk thresholds for diagnoses of distress, especially depressive symptoms and anxiety.

Although two studies showed no significant association with suicide in response to school closures during lockdowns, three studies suggested increased use of screen time, two studies reported increased social media use, and six studies reported lower levels of physical activity.

Three studies of child abuse showed decreases in notifications during lockdowns, likely driven by lack of referrals from schools, the authors noted. A total of 10 studies on sleep and 5 studies on diet showed inconsistent evidence of harm during the specific period of school closures and social lockdowns.

“The contrast of rises in distress with decreases in presentations suggests that there was an escalation of unmet mental health need during lockdowns in already vulnerable children and adolescents,” the researchers wrote. “More troubling still is evidence of a reduction in the ability of the health and social care systems to protect children in many countries, as shown by the large falls in child protection referrals seen in high-quality cohort studies.”
 

‘Study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation’

“Concerns have been widely expressed in the lay media and beyond that school closures could negatively impact the mental and physical health of children and adolescents,” M. Susan Jay, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, said in an interview. “The authors presented a narrative synthesis summarizing available evidence for the first wave of COVID-19 on school closures during the broader social lockdown occurring during this period.”

The “importance” of this research is that “it is not a single convenience sample study, but a systematic review from 11 countries including the United States, United Kingdom, China, and Turkey, among others, and that the quality of the information was graded,” Dr. Jay said. “Although not a meta-analysis, the study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation and overviews its limitations so that the clinician can weigh this information. Importantly, the authors excluded closure of schools with transmission of infection.

“Clearly, school lockdowns as a measure of controlling infectious disease needs balance with potential of negative health behaviors in children and adolescents. Ongoing prospective longitudinal studies are needed as sequential waves of the pandemic continue,” she emphasized.

“Clinically, this study highlights the need for clinicians to consider [asking] about the impact of school closures and remote versus hybrid versus in-person education [as part of their] patients and families question inventory,” Dr. Jay said. “Also, the use of depression inventories can be offered to youth to assess their mental health state at a visit, either via telemedicine or in person, and ideally at sequential visits for a more in-depth assessment.”
 

Schools play key role in social and emotional development

“It was important to conduct this study now, because this current time is unprecedented,” Peter L. Loper Jr., MD, of the University of South Carolina, Columbia, said in an interview. “We know based on evolutionary biology, anthropology, and developmental psychology, among other disciplines, that meaningful interpersonal interactions embedded in the context of community are vital to supporting human well-being.

“In our current time, the primary framework of community for our children is the school setting; it is the predominant space where they engage in the interpersonal interactions necessary for developing resilience, their sense of purpose, belonging, and fidelity,” he emphasized.

“Rarely in the course of human existence have kids been removed from the broader context of community to this extent and for this duration,” Dr. Loper said. “This study capitalizes on this unprecedented moment to begin to further understand how compromises in our sociocultural infrastructure of community, like school closures and lockdowns, may manifest as mental health problems in children and adolescents. More importantly, it contributes to the exploration of potential unintended consequences of our current infection control measures so we can adapt to support the overall well-being of our children in this ‘new normal.’ ”

Dr. Loper added that he was not surprised by the new study’s findings.

“We were already seeing a decline in pediatric mental health and overall well-being in the years preceding COVID-19 because of the ‘isolation epidemic’ involving many of the factors that this study explored,” he said. “I think this review further illustrates the vital necessity of community to support the health and well-being of humans, and specifically children and adolescents.”

From a clinical standpoint, “we need to be intentional and consistent in balancing infection control measures with our kids’ fundamental psychosocial needs,” Dr. Loper said.

“We need to recognize that, when children and adolescents are isolated from community, their fundamental psychosocial needs go unmet,” he emphasized. “If children and adolescents cannot access the meaningful interpersonal interactions necessary for resilience, then they cannot overcome or navigate distress. They will exhibit the avoidance and withdrawal behaviors that accumulate to manifest as adverse mental health symptoms like anxiety and depression.

“Additional research is needed to further explore how compromises in the psychosocial infrastructure of community manifest as downstream symptom indicators such as anxiety and depression,” which are often manifestations of unmet needs, Dr. Loper said.
 

Limitations and strengths, according to authors

The findings were limited by several factors, including a lack of examination of school closures’ effects on mental health independent of broader social lockdowns, according to the researchers. Other limitations included the authors potentially having missed studies, inclusion of cross-sectional studies with relatively weak evidence, potential bias from studies using parent reports, and a focus on the first COVID-19 wave, during which many school closures were of limited duration. Also, the researchers said they did not include studies focused on particular groups, such as children with learning difficulties or autism.

The use of large databases from education as well as health care in studies analyzed were strengths of the new research, they said. The investigators received no outside funding for their study. The researchers, Dr. Jay, and Dr. Loper had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Jay serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Behavior problems, anxiety, and depression in youths were associated with these individuals participating in remote schooling during broader social lockdowns in a new study.

The systematic review, which was published in JAMA Pediatrics on Jan. 18, 2022, was based on data from 36 studies from 11 countries on mental health, physical health, and well-being in children and adolescents aged 0-18 years. The total population included 79,781 children and 18,028 parents or caregivers. The studies reflected the first wave of pandemic school closures and lockdowns from February to July 2020, with the duration of school closure ranging from 1 week to 3 months.

“There are strong theoretical reasons to suggest that school closures may have contributed to a considerable proportion of the harms identified here, particularly mental health harms, through reduction in social contacts with peers and teachers,” Russell Viner, PhD, of UCL Great Ormond St Institute of Child Health, London, and colleagues wrote in their paper.

The researchers included 9 longitudinal pre-post studies, 5 cohort studies, 21 cross-sectional studies, and 1 modeling study in their analysis. Overall, approximately one-third of the studies (36%) were considered high quality, and approximately two-thirds (64%) of the studies were published in journals. Twenty-five of the reports analyzed focused on mental health and well-being.

Schools provide not only education, but also services including meals, health care, and health supplies. Schools also serve as a safety net and source of social support for children, the researchers noted.

The losses children may have experienced during school closures occurred during a time when more than 167,000 children younger than 18 years lost a parent or caregiver to COVID-19, according to a recent report titled “Hidden Pain” by researchers at the University of Pennsylvania, Nemours Children’s Health, and the COVID Collaborative. Although not addressed in the current study, school closures would prevent bereaved children from receiving social-emotional support from friends and teachers. This crisis of loss also prompted the American Academy of Pediatrics to issue a National State of Emergency in Children’s Mental Health in October 2021.
 

New study results

These studies identified associations between school closures during broader lockdowns and increased emotional and behavioral problems, as well as increased restlessness and inattention. Across these studies, 18%-60% of children and adolescents scored higher than the risk thresholds for diagnoses of distress, especially depressive symptoms and anxiety.

Although two studies showed no significant association with suicide in response to school closures during lockdowns, three studies suggested increased use of screen time, two studies reported increased social media use, and six studies reported lower levels of physical activity.

Three studies of child abuse showed decreases in notifications during lockdowns, likely driven by lack of referrals from schools, the authors noted. A total of 10 studies on sleep and 5 studies on diet showed inconsistent evidence of harm during the specific period of school closures and social lockdowns.

“The contrast of rises in distress with decreases in presentations suggests that there was an escalation of unmet mental health need during lockdowns in already vulnerable children and adolescents,” the researchers wrote. “More troubling still is evidence of a reduction in the ability of the health and social care systems to protect children in many countries, as shown by the large falls in child protection referrals seen in high-quality cohort studies.”
 

‘Study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation’

“Concerns have been widely expressed in the lay media and beyond that school closures could negatively impact the mental and physical health of children and adolescents,” M. Susan Jay, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, said in an interview. “The authors presented a narrative synthesis summarizing available evidence for the first wave of COVID-19 on school closures during the broader social lockdown occurring during this period.”

The “importance” of this research is that “it is not a single convenience sample study, but a systematic review from 11 countries including the United States, United Kingdom, China, and Turkey, among others, and that the quality of the information was graded,” Dr. Jay said. “Although not a meta-analysis, the study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation and overviews its limitations so that the clinician can weigh this information. Importantly, the authors excluded closure of schools with transmission of infection.

“Clearly, school lockdowns as a measure of controlling infectious disease needs balance with potential of negative health behaviors in children and adolescents. Ongoing prospective longitudinal studies are needed as sequential waves of the pandemic continue,” she emphasized.

“Clinically, this study highlights the need for clinicians to consider [asking] about the impact of school closures and remote versus hybrid versus in-person education [as part of their] patients and families question inventory,” Dr. Jay said. “Also, the use of depression inventories can be offered to youth to assess their mental health state at a visit, either via telemedicine or in person, and ideally at sequential visits for a more in-depth assessment.”
 

Schools play key role in social and emotional development

“It was important to conduct this study now, because this current time is unprecedented,” Peter L. Loper Jr., MD, of the University of South Carolina, Columbia, said in an interview. “We know based on evolutionary biology, anthropology, and developmental psychology, among other disciplines, that meaningful interpersonal interactions embedded in the context of community are vital to supporting human well-being.

“In our current time, the primary framework of community for our children is the school setting; it is the predominant space where they engage in the interpersonal interactions necessary for developing resilience, their sense of purpose, belonging, and fidelity,” he emphasized.

“Rarely in the course of human existence have kids been removed from the broader context of community to this extent and for this duration,” Dr. Loper said. “This study capitalizes on this unprecedented moment to begin to further understand how compromises in our sociocultural infrastructure of community, like school closures and lockdowns, may manifest as mental health problems in children and adolescents. More importantly, it contributes to the exploration of potential unintended consequences of our current infection control measures so we can adapt to support the overall well-being of our children in this ‘new normal.’ ”

Dr. Loper added that he was not surprised by the new study’s findings.

“We were already seeing a decline in pediatric mental health and overall well-being in the years preceding COVID-19 because of the ‘isolation epidemic’ involving many of the factors that this study explored,” he said. “I think this review further illustrates the vital necessity of community to support the health and well-being of humans, and specifically children and adolescents.”

From a clinical standpoint, “we need to be intentional and consistent in balancing infection control measures with our kids’ fundamental psychosocial needs,” Dr. Loper said.

“We need to recognize that, when children and adolescents are isolated from community, their fundamental psychosocial needs go unmet,” he emphasized. “If children and adolescents cannot access the meaningful interpersonal interactions necessary for resilience, then they cannot overcome or navigate distress. They will exhibit the avoidance and withdrawal behaviors that accumulate to manifest as adverse mental health symptoms like anxiety and depression.

“Additional research is needed to further explore how compromises in the psychosocial infrastructure of community manifest as downstream symptom indicators such as anxiety and depression,” which are often manifestations of unmet needs, Dr. Loper said.
 

Limitations and strengths, according to authors

The findings were limited by several factors, including a lack of examination of school closures’ effects on mental health independent of broader social lockdowns, according to the researchers. Other limitations included the authors potentially having missed studies, inclusion of cross-sectional studies with relatively weak evidence, potential bias from studies using parent reports, and a focus on the first COVID-19 wave, during which many school closures were of limited duration. Also, the researchers said they did not include studies focused on particular groups, such as children with learning difficulties or autism.

The use of large databases from education as well as health care in studies analyzed were strengths of the new research, they said. The investigators received no outside funding for their study. The researchers, Dr. Jay, and Dr. Loper had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Jay serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Behavior problems, anxiety, and depression in youths were associated with these individuals participating in remote schooling during broader social lockdowns in a new study.

The systematic review, which was published in JAMA Pediatrics on Jan. 18, 2022, was based on data from 36 studies from 11 countries on mental health, physical health, and well-being in children and adolescents aged 0-18 years. The total population included 79,781 children and 18,028 parents or caregivers. The studies reflected the first wave of pandemic school closures and lockdowns from February to July 2020, with the duration of school closure ranging from 1 week to 3 months.

“There are strong theoretical reasons to suggest that school closures may have contributed to a considerable proportion of the harms identified here, particularly mental health harms, through reduction in social contacts with peers and teachers,” Russell Viner, PhD, of UCL Great Ormond St Institute of Child Health, London, and colleagues wrote in their paper.

The researchers included 9 longitudinal pre-post studies, 5 cohort studies, 21 cross-sectional studies, and 1 modeling study in their analysis. Overall, approximately one-third of the studies (36%) were considered high quality, and approximately two-thirds (64%) of the studies were published in journals. Twenty-five of the reports analyzed focused on mental health and well-being.

Schools provide not only education, but also services including meals, health care, and health supplies. Schools also serve as a safety net and source of social support for children, the researchers noted.

The losses children may have experienced during school closures occurred during a time when more than 167,000 children younger than 18 years lost a parent or caregiver to COVID-19, according to a recent report titled “Hidden Pain” by researchers at the University of Pennsylvania, Nemours Children’s Health, and the COVID Collaborative. Although not addressed in the current study, school closures would prevent bereaved children from receiving social-emotional support from friends and teachers. This crisis of loss also prompted the American Academy of Pediatrics to issue a National State of Emergency in Children’s Mental Health in October 2021.
 

New study results

These studies identified associations between school closures during broader lockdowns and increased emotional and behavioral problems, as well as increased restlessness and inattention. Across these studies, 18%-60% of children and adolescents scored higher than the risk thresholds for diagnoses of distress, especially depressive symptoms and anxiety.

Although two studies showed no significant association with suicide in response to school closures during lockdowns, three studies suggested increased use of screen time, two studies reported increased social media use, and six studies reported lower levels of physical activity.

Three studies of child abuse showed decreases in notifications during lockdowns, likely driven by lack of referrals from schools, the authors noted. A total of 10 studies on sleep and 5 studies on diet showed inconsistent evidence of harm during the specific period of school closures and social lockdowns.

“The contrast of rises in distress with decreases in presentations suggests that there was an escalation of unmet mental health need during lockdowns in already vulnerable children and adolescents,” the researchers wrote. “More troubling still is evidence of a reduction in the ability of the health and social care systems to protect children in many countries, as shown by the large falls in child protection referrals seen in high-quality cohort studies.”
 

‘Study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation’

“Concerns have been widely expressed in the lay media and beyond that school closures could negatively impact the mental and physical health of children and adolescents,” M. Susan Jay, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, said in an interview. “The authors presented a narrative synthesis summarizing available evidence for the first wave of COVID-19 on school closures during the broader social lockdown occurring during this period.”

The “importance” of this research is that “it is not a single convenience sample study, but a systematic review from 11 countries including the United States, United Kingdom, China, and Turkey, among others, and that the quality of the information was graded,” Dr. Jay said. “Although not a meta-analysis, the study presents concrete assessments rather than speculation and overviews its limitations so that the clinician can weigh this information. Importantly, the authors excluded closure of schools with transmission of infection.

“Clearly, school lockdowns as a measure of controlling infectious disease needs balance with potential of negative health behaviors in children and adolescents. Ongoing prospective longitudinal studies are needed as sequential waves of the pandemic continue,” she emphasized.

“Clinically, this study highlights the need for clinicians to consider [asking] about the impact of school closures and remote versus hybrid versus in-person education [as part of their] patients and families question inventory,” Dr. Jay said. “Also, the use of depression inventories can be offered to youth to assess their mental health state at a visit, either via telemedicine or in person, and ideally at sequential visits for a more in-depth assessment.”
 

Schools play key role in social and emotional development

“It was important to conduct this study now, because this current time is unprecedented,” Peter L. Loper Jr., MD, of the University of South Carolina, Columbia, said in an interview. “We know based on evolutionary biology, anthropology, and developmental psychology, among other disciplines, that meaningful interpersonal interactions embedded in the context of community are vital to supporting human well-being.

“In our current time, the primary framework of community for our children is the school setting; it is the predominant space where they engage in the interpersonal interactions necessary for developing resilience, their sense of purpose, belonging, and fidelity,” he emphasized.

“Rarely in the course of human existence have kids been removed from the broader context of community to this extent and for this duration,” Dr. Loper said. “This study capitalizes on this unprecedented moment to begin to further understand how compromises in our sociocultural infrastructure of community, like school closures and lockdowns, may manifest as mental health problems in children and adolescents. More importantly, it contributes to the exploration of potential unintended consequences of our current infection control measures so we can adapt to support the overall well-being of our children in this ‘new normal.’ ”

Dr. Loper added that he was not surprised by the new study’s findings.

“We were already seeing a decline in pediatric mental health and overall well-being in the years preceding COVID-19 because of the ‘isolation epidemic’ involving many of the factors that this study explored,” he said. “I think this review further illustrates the vital necessity of community to support the health and well-being of humans, and specifically children and adolescents.”

From a clinical standpoint, “we need to be intentional and consistent in balancing infection control measures with our kids’ fundamental psychosocial needs,” Dr. Loper said.

“We need to recognize that, when children and adolescents are isolated from community, their fundamental psychosocial needs go unmet,” he emphasized. “If children and adolescents cannot access the meaningful interpersonal interactions necessary for resilience, then they cannot overcome or navigate distress. They will exhibit the avoidance and withdrawal behaviors that accumulate to manifest as adverse mental health symptoms like anxiety and depression.

“Additional research is needed to further explore how compromises in the psychosocial infrastructure of community manifest as downstream symptom indicators such as anxiety and depression,” which are often manifestations of unmet needs, Dr. Loper said.
 

Limitations and strengths, according to authors

The findings were limited by several factors, including a lack of examination of school closures’ effects on mental health independent of broader social lockdowns, according to the researchers. Other limitations included the authors potentially having missed studies, inclusion of cross-sectional studies with relatively weak evidence, potential bias from studies using parent reports, and a focus on the first COVID-19 wave, during which many school closures were of limited duration. Also, the researchers said they did not include studies focused on particular groups, such as children with learning difficulties or autism.

The use of large databases from education as well as health care in studies analyzed were strengths of the new research, they said. The investigators received no outside funding for their study. The researchers, Dr. Jay, and Dr. Loper had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Jay serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Key clinical point: Compared with the general population, patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) may be at a slightly higher risk of developing myocardial infarction (MI) but not stroke.

Major finding: An increased risk for MI was found to be causally associated with MS (odds ratio [OR], 1.03; P = .0243). MS and stroke showed no significant causal association (OR, 1.01; P = .2974).

Study details: This was a 2-sample Mendelian randomization analysis of genetic summary data for MS (14,498 patients and 24,091 healthy controls), MI (43,676 patients and 128,199 healthy controls), and stroke (40,585 patients and 446,696 healthy controls) from large-scale genome-wide association studies.

Disclosures: The study was supported by Cultivation of Guangdong College Students' Scientific and Technological Innovation. The authors declared no conflict of interests.

Source: Peng H et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2022 Jan 6. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2022.103501.

Key clinical point: Compared with the general population, patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) may be at a slightly higher risk of developing myocardial infarction (MI) but not stroke.

Major finding: An increased risk for MI was found to be causally associated with MS (odds ratio [OR], 1.03; P = .0243). MS and stroke showed no significant causal association (OR, 1.01; P = .2974).

Study details: This was a 2-sample Mendelian randomization analysis of genetic summary data for MS (14,498 patients and 24,091 healthy controls), MI (43,676 patients and 128,199 healthy controls), and stroke (40,585 patients and 446,696 healthy controls) from large-scale genome-wide association studies.

Disclosures: The study was supported by Cultivation of Guangdong College Students' Scientific and Technological Innovation. The authors declared no conflict of interests.

Source: Peng H et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2022 Jan 6. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2022.103501.

Key clinical point: Compared with the general population, patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) may be at a slightly higher risk of developing myocardial infarction (MI) but not stroke.

Major finding: An increased risk for MI was found to be causally associated with MS (odds ratio [OR], 1.03; P = .0243). MS and stroke showed no significant causal association (OR, 1.01; P = .2974).

Study details: This was a 2-sample Mendelian randomization analysis of genetic summary data for MS (14,498 patients and 24,091 healthy controls), MI (43,676 patients and 128,199 healthy controls), and stroke (40,585 patients and 446,696 healthy controls) from large-scale genome-wide association studies.

Disclosures: The study was supported by Cultivation of Guangdong College Students' Scientific and Technological Innovation. The authors declared no conflict of interests.

Source: Peng H et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2022 Jan 6. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2022.103501.

Key clinical point: Women presenting with multiple sclerosis (MS) are more likely to develop trigeminal neuralgia (TN) relative to men with MS.

Major finding: The estimated pooled TN prevalence in the overall population was 3.4%, with the prevalence being greater among women with MS (3.8%; 95% CI, 0.8%-8.7%) than among men with MS (2.4%; 95% CI, 0.5%-5.4%).

Study details: Findings are from a meta-analysis of 19 studies involving 30,348 patients with MS.

Disclosures: This study reported no funding source or conflict of interests.

Source: Houshi S et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2021 Dec 28. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2021.103472.

Key clinical point: Women presenting with multiple sclerosis (MS) are more likely to develop trigeminal neuralgia (TN) relative to men with MS.

Major finding: The estimated pooled TN prevalence in the overall population was 3.4%, with the prevalence being greater among women with MS (3.8%; 95% CI, 0.8%-8.7%) than among men with MS (2.4%; 95% CI, 0.5%-5.4%).

Study details: Findings are from a meta-analysis of 19 studies involving 30,348 patients with MS.

Disclosures: This study reported no funding source or conflict of interests.

Source: Houshi S et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2021 Dec 28. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2021.103472.

Key clinical point: Women presenting with multiple sclerosis (MS) are more likely to develop trigeminal neuralgia (TN) relative to men with MS.

Major finding: The estimated pooled TN prevalence in the overall population was 3.4%, with the prevalence being greater among women with MS (3.8%; 95% CI, 0.8%-8.7%) than among men with MS (2.4%; 95% CI, 0.5%-5.4%).

Study details: Findings are from a meta-analysis of 19 studies involving 30,348 patients with MS.

Disclosures: This study reported no funding source or conflict of interests.

Source: Houshi S et al. Mult Scler Relat Disord. 2021 Dec 28. doi: 10.1016/j.msard.2021.103472.

Key clinical point: Ocrelizumab may be preferred over fingolimod as an exit strategy after natalizumab discontinuation in patients with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis (RRMS).

Major finding: At 1 year, fewer relapses were observed in patients receiving ocrelizumab vs fingolimod (0.12±0.39 vs 0.41±0.71; P = .035), realizing a 70.7% lower annualized relapse rate. The cumulative probability of relapse was significantly higher with fingolimod vs ocrelizumab (31.5% vs 10.4%; adjusted hazard ratio, 3.4; P = .04).

Study details: The data come from an observational, retrospective study involving 102 patients with RRMS who received either fingolimod (n=54) or ocrelizumab (n=48) after natalizumab cessation.

Disclosures: No source of funding was disclosed. Some of the authors including the lead author reported receiving consultancy fees and travel grants from various pharmaceutical companies.

Source: Bigaut K et al. J Neurol. 2022 Jan 4. doi: 10.1007/s00415-021-10950-7.

Key clinical point: Ocrelizumab may be preferred over fingolimod as an exit strategy after natalizumab discontinuation in patients with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis (RRMS).

Major finding: At 1 year, fewer relapses were observed in patients receiving ocrelizumab vs fingolimod (0.12±0.39 vs 0.41±0.71; P = .035), realizing a 70.7% lower annualized relapse rate. The cumulative probability of relapse was significantly higher with fingolimod vs ocrelizumab (31.5% vs 10.4%; adjusted hazard ratio, 3.4; P = .04).

Study details: The data come from an observational, retrospective study involving 102 patients with RRMS who received either fingolimod (n=54) or ocrelizumab (n=48) after natalizumab cessation.

Disclosures: No source of funding was disclosed. Some of the authors including the lead author reported receiving consultancy fees and travel grants from various pharmaceutical companies.

Source: Bigaut K et al. J Neurol. 2022 Jan 4. doi: 10.1007/s00415-021-10950-7.

Key clinical point: Ocrelizumab may be preferred over fingolimod as an exit strategy after natalizumab discontinuation in patients with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis (RRMS).

Major finding: At 1 year, fewer relapses were observed in patients receiving ocrelizumab vs fingolimod (0.12±0.39 vs 0.41±0.71; P = .035), realizing a 70.7% lower annualized relapse rate. The cumulative probability of relapse was significantly higher with fingolimod vs ocrelizumab (31.5% vs 10.4%; adjusted hazard ratio, 3.4; P = .04).

Study details: The data come from an observational, retrospective study involving 102 patients with RRMS who received either fingolimod (n=54) or ocrelizumab (n=48) after natalizumab cessation.

Disclosures: No source of funding was disclosed. Some of the authors including the lead author reported receiving consultancy fees and travel grants from various pharmaceutical companies.

Source: Bigaut K et al. J Neurol. 2022 Jan 4. doi: 10.1007/s00415-021-10950-7.

Key clinical point: Cognitive dysfunction in patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) is predictive of a higher risk for conversion from relapse-remitting MS to secondary progressive MS and a higher risk for death.

Major finding: Cognitive dysfunction was linked to a greater risk of converting from relapse-remitting course to progressive disease course (adjusted odds ratio, 2.29; P = .043) and shorter survival (adjusted hazard ratio, 3.07; P = .006).

Study details: This was a retrospective analysis of 408 patients with MS.

Disclosures: No external funding was received for this study. The authors reported no conflict of interests.

Source: Cavaco S et al. Mult Scler. 2021 Dec 30. doi: 10.1177/13524585211066598.

Key clinical point: Cognitive dysfunction in patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) is predictive of a higher risk for conversion from relapse-remitting MS to secondary progressive MS and a higher risk for death.

Major finding: Cognitive dysfunction was linked to a greater risk of converting from relapse-remitting course to progressive disease course (adjusted odds ratio, 2.29; P = .043) and shorter survival (adjusted hazard ratio, 3.07; P = .006).

Study details: This was a retrospective analysis of 408 patients with MS.

Disclosures: No external funding was received for this study. The authors reported no conflict of interests.

Source: Cavaco S et al. Mult Scler. 2021 Dec 30. doi: 10.1177/13524585211066598.

Key clinical point: Cognitive dysfunction in patients with multiple sclerosis (MS) is predictive of a higher risk for conversion from relapse-remitting MS to secondary progressive MS and a higher risk for death.

Major finding: Cognitive dysfunction was linked to a greater risk of converting from relapse-remitting course to progressive disease course (adjusted odds ratio, 2.29; P = .043) and shorter survival (adjusted hazard ratio, 3.07; P = .006).

Study details: This was a retrospective analysis of 408 patients with MS.

Disclosures: No external funding was received for this study. The authors reported no conflict of interests.

Source: Cavaco S et al. Mult Scler. 2021 Dec 30. doi: 10.1177/13524585211066598.