MDedge Pediatrics

Elective surgical procedures should be delayed at least 7 weeks after COVID-19 infection in unvaccinated patients, according to a new joint statement issued by the American Society of Anesthesiologists and the Anesthesia Patient Safety Foundation (APSF).

For patients fully vaccinated against COVID-19 with breakthrough infections, there is no consensus on how vaccination affects the time between COVID-19 infection and elective surgery. Clinicians should use their clinical judgment to schedule procedures, said Randall M. Clark, MD, president of the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA). “We need all physicians, anesthesiologists, surgeons, and others to base their decision to go ahead with elective surgery on the patient’s symptoms, their need for the procedure, and whether delays could cause other problems with their health,” he said in an interview.

Prior to these updated recommendations, which were published Feb. 22, the ASA and the APSF recommended a 4-week gap between COVID-19 diagnosis and elective surgery for asymptomatic or mild cases, regardless of a patient’s vaccination status.

Extending the wait time from 4 to 7 weeks was based on a multination study conducted in October 2020 following more than 140,000 surgical patients. Patients with previous COVID-19 infection had an increased risk for complications and death in elective surgery for up to 6 weeks following their diagnosis, compared with patients without COVID-19. Additional research in the United States found that patients with a preoperative COVID diagnosis were at higher risk for postoperative complications of respiratory failure for up to 4 weeks after diagnosis and postoperative pneumonia complications for up to 8 weeks after diagnosis.

Because these studies were conducted in unvaccinated populations or those with low vaccination rates, and preliminary data suggest vaccinated patients with breakthrough infections may have a lower risk for complications and death postinfection, “we felt that it was prudent to just make recommendations specific to unvaccinated patients,” Dr. Clark added.

Although this guidance is “very helpful” in that it summarizes the currently available research to give evidence-based recommendations, the 7-week wait time is a “very conservative estimate,” Brent Matthews, MD, surgeon-in-chief of the surgery care division of Atrium Health, Charlotte, N.C., told this news organization. At Atrium Health, surgery is scheduled at least 21 days after a patient’s COVID-19 diagnosis, regardless of their vaccination status, Dr. Matthews said.

The studies currently available were conducted earlier in the pandemic, when a different variant was prevalent, Dr. Matthews explained. The Omicron variant is currently the most prevalent COVID-19 variant and is less virulent than earlier strains of the virus. The joint statement does note that there is currently “no robust data” on patients infected with the Delta or Omicron variants of COVID-19, and that “the Omicron variant causes less severe disease and is more likely to reside in the oro- and nasopharynx without infiltration and damage to the lungs.”

Still, the new recommendations are a reminder to re-evaluate the potential complications from surgery for previously infected patients and to consider what comorbidities might make them more vulnerable, Dr. Matthews said. “The real power of the joint statement is to get people to ensure that they make an assessment of every patient that comes in front of them who has had a recent positive COVID test.”

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

Elective surgical procedures should be delayed at least 7 weeks after COVID-19 infection in unvaccinated patients, according to a new joint statement issued by the American Society of Anesthesiologists and the Anesthesia Patient Safety Foundation (APSF).

For patients fully vaccinated against COVID-19 with breakthrough infections, there is no consensus on how vaccination affects the time between COVID-19 infection and elective surgery. Clinicians should use their clinical judgment to schedule procedures, said Randall M. Clark, MD, president of the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA). “We need all physicians, anesthesiologists, surgeons, and others to base their decision to go ahead with elective surgery on the patient’s symptoms, their need for the procedure, and whether delays could cause other problems with their health,” he said in an interview.

Prior to these updated recommendations, which were published Feb. 22, the ASA and the APSF recommended a 4-week gap between COVID-19 diagnosis and elective surgery for asymptomatic or mild cases, regardless of a patient’s vaccination status.

Extending the wait time from 4 to 7 weeks was based on a multination study conducted in October 2020 following more than 140,000 surgical patients. Patients with previous COVID-19 infection had an increased risk for complications and death in elective surgery for up to 6 weeks following their diagnosis, compared with patients without COVID-19. Additional research in the United States found that patients with a preoperative COVID diagnosis were at higher risk for postoperative complications of respiratory failure for up to 4 weeks after diagnosis and postoperative pneumonia complications for up to 8 weeks after diagnosis.

Because these studies were conducted in unvaccinated populations or those with low vaccination rates, and preliminary data suggest vaccinated patients with breakthrough infections may have a lower risk for complications and death postinfection, “we felt that it was prudent to just make recommendations specific to unvaccinated patients,” Dr. Clark added.

Although this guidance is “very helpful” in that it summarizes the currently available research to give evidence-based recommendations, the 7-week wait time is a “very conservative estimate,” Brent Matthews, MD, surgeon-in-chief of the surgery care division of Atrium Health, Charlotte, N.C., told this news organization. At Atrium Health, surgery is scheduled at least 21 days after a patient’s COVID-19 diagnosis, regardless of their vaccination status, Dr. Matthews said.

The studies currently available were conducted earlier in the pandemic, when a different variant was prevalent, Dr. Matthews explained. The Omicron variant is currently the most prevalent COVID-19 variant and is less virulent than earlier strains of the virus. The joint statement does note that there is currently “no robust data” on patients infected with the Delta or Omicron variants of COVID-19, and that “the Omicron variant causes less severe disease and is more likely to reside in the oro- and nasopharynx without infiltration and damage to the lungs.”

Still, the new recommendations are a reminder to re-evaluate the potential complications from surgery for previously infected patients and to consider what comorbidities might make them more vulnerable, Dr. Matthews said. “The real power of the joint statement is to get people to ensure that they make an assessment of every patient that comes in front of them who has had a recent positive COVID test.”

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

Elective surgical procedures should be delayed at least 7 weeks after COVID-19 infection in unvaccinated patients, according to a new joint statement issued by the American Society of Anesthesiologists and the Anesthesia Patient Safety Foundation (APSF).

For patients fully vaccinated against COVID-19 with breakthrough infections, there is no consensus on how vaccination affects the time between COVID-19 infection and elective surgery. Clinicians should use their clinical judgment to schedule procedures, said Randall M. Clark, MD, president of the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA). “We need all physicians, anesthesiologists, surgeons, and others to base their decision to go ahead with elective surgery on the patient’s symptoms, their need for the procedure, and whether delays could cause other problems with their health,” he said in an interview.

Prior to these updated recommendations, which were published Feb. 22, the ASA and the APSF recommended a 4-week gap between COVID-19 diagnosis and elective surgery for asymptomatic or mild cases, regardless of a patient’s vaccination status.

Extending the wait time from 4 to 7 weeks was based on a multination study conducted in October 2020 following more than 140,000 surgical patients. Patients with previous COVID-19 infection had an increased risk for complications and death in elective surgery for up to 6 weeks following their diagnosis, compared with patients without COVID-19. Additional research in the United States found that patients with a preoperative COVID diagnosis were at higher risk for postoperative complications of respiratory failure for up to 4 weeks after diagnosis and postoperative pneumonia complications for up to 8 weeks after diagnosis.

Because these studies were conducted in unvaccinated populations or those with low vaccination rates, and preliminary data suggest vaccinated patients with breakthrough infections may have a lower risk for complications and death postinfection, “we felt that it was prudent to just make recommendations specific to unvaccinated patients,” Dr. Clark added.

Although this guidance is “very helpful” in that it summarizes the currently available research to give evidence-based recommendations, the 7-week wait time is a “very conservative estimate,” Brent Matthews, MD, surgeon-in-chief of the surgery care division of Atrium Health, Charlotte, N.C., told this news organization. At Atrium Health, surgery is scheduled at least 21 days after a patient’s COVID-19 diagnosis, regardless of their vaccination status, Dr. Matthews said.

The studies currently available were conducted earlier in the pandemic, when a different variant was prevalent, Dr. Matthews explained. The Omicron variant is currently the most prevalent COVID-19 variant and is less virulent than earlier strains of the virus. The joint statement does note that there is currently “no robust data” on patients infected with the Delta or Omicron variants of COVID-19, and that “the Omicron variant causes less severe disease and is more likely to reside in the oro- and nasopharynx without infiltration and damage to the lungs.”

Still, the new recommendations are a reminder to re-evaluate the potential complications from surgery for previously infected patients and to consider what comorbidities might make them more vulnerable, Dr. Matthews said. “The real power of the joint statement is to get people to ensure that they make an assessment of every patient that comes in front of them who has had a recent positive COVID test.”

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

Exposure to phthalates through maternal blood and cord blood affected outcomes including head circumference and anogenital index for male and female infants, according to data from 65 mother-infant pairs.

Phthalates are recognized endocrine disruptors that have been associated with adverse birth outcomes, but the specific relationship between maternal phthalate exposure and birth outcomes has not been well studied, wrote Hsiao-Lin Hwa, MD, of National Taiwan University, Taipei, and colleagues.

Previous research suggests that trace exposure to hazardous chemicals during the fetal period “may cause fetal metabolic dysfunction and adversely change the morphology of body systems,” they said. In 2011, “the Taiwan Food and Drug Administration found that di‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate (DEHP) and DiNP [di‐isononyl phthalate] had been illegally added as emulsifiers to replace palm oil in beverages and food,” they added. The researchers sought to examine the association between infant birth outcomes and phthalate exposure levels in the Taiwanese population after 2011. In a study published in Environmental Toxicology and Chemistry, the researchers recruited 65 pregnant women in Taiwan between 2016 and 2017. Birth length, birth weight, head circumference, anogenital distance (AGD), anoscrotal distance (ASD), and anofourchette distance (AFD) were measured for each newborn at the time of delivery. The average age of the women was 33.6 years, and the rate of low birth weight was 13.7%. The mean measures of birth length, birth weight, head circumference, and chest circumference were 47.6 cm, 3022 g, 32.9 cm, and 30.8 mm, respectively. The mean AFD and ASD were 14.2 mm and 22.3 mm, respectively.

The researchers tested for 12 phthalates in maternal blood and cord blood samples. Of these, the six most frequently detected phthalate metabolites were mono‐ethyl phthalate (MEP), mono‐isobutyl phthalate (MiBP), mono‐n‐butyl phthalate (MnBP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐oxohexyl)‐phthalate (MEOHP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐hydroxyhexyl) phthalate (MEHHP), and mono‐n‐octyl phthalate (MOP); these six were present in 80%–100% of the maternal blood samples.

Overall, the mean levels of MEP, MiBP, MnBP, and MEHP were relatively higher in both maternal and infant blood than other phthalates, the researchers noted. The mean concentrations of metabolites in maternal blood and infant cord blood were 0.03-2.27 ng/mL and 0.01-3.74 ng/mL, respectively.

Among male infants, levels of MMP, MiBP, and MEHP in maternal blood were inversely related to anogenital index (AGI), with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .011 to .033. In addition, the total concentration of MEHP, MEOHP, and MEHHP (designated as Σdi‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate, ΣDEHP) was inversely related to AGI in males.

Among female infants, however, phthalates in cord blood, rather than maternal blood, were positively related to AGI, including MMP, MibP, MnBP, and MOP, with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .001 to .034.

Cord blood levels of MnBP, MEOHP, MEHP, and ΣDEHP were inversely associated with gestational age-adjusted head circumference in all infants, with beta coefficients of –0.15, –0.12, –0.01, and –0.01, respectively (P < .05 for all).

“The detection rates of MEHHP, MEOHP, and MEHP in the cord blood were lower than those in the maternal blood, particularly those of MEHHP and MEOHP, which were approximately 25% lower,” which may be caused by slow placental transfer, the researchers wrote in their discussion section. “The high detection rate of phthalate metabolites indicated that our subjects may continue to be exposed to these phthalates even after the 2011 Taiwan DEHP incident,” they noted.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the possibility for contamination of samples and other environmental confounders, the researchers noted. However, the results support the role of phthalates as endocrine disruptors, and the distinction in effects between males and females “may suggest that phthalate monoesters are potentially estrogenic and antiandrogenic chemicals,” they added.

“Further investigations involving multiple phthalate analyses during pregnancy and measurements throughout childhood are necessary to confirm our findings,” they concluded.
 

Direct clinical implications remain uncertain

“Phthalates are a group of chemicals that are used to make plastic more durable; they are found in multiple everyday materials, food products, and common household products,” Marissa Platner, MD, of Emory University, Atlanta, said in an interview. “It is known that we are exposed to phthalates on a routine basis but the long-term effects of this exposure are unclear,” she said.

The current study findings “were not entirely surprising given data from prior animal studies because they do imply that there is some placental transfer of the phthalate metabolites that can cause adverse effects on the developing fetus,” said Dr. Platner. “However, they also demonstrate that the placenta acts as a filter for certain larger molecules to protect the fetus,” she said.

“This study was based on a small sample size, therefore the clinical implications are not clear,” Dr. Platner noted. “However it may be worthwhile after further research to encourage our pregnant patients to try to decrease their exposure to phthalates,” she said.

Dr. Platner identified two areas for additional research to explore the role of phthalate exposure.

“The first would be to assess the level of maternal phthalate exposure throughout the pregnancy instead of just at one point in time, and the second would be to assess how the reproductive system differences at birth translate to long-term outcomes in children, such as early puberty in females or decreased fertility in males,” she said.  

The study was funded by the Ministry of Science and Technology of Taiwan and the Far Eastern Memorial Hospital‐National Taiwan University Hospital. The researchers and Dr. Platner had no financial conflicts to disclose.

Exposure to phthalates through maternal blood and cord blood affected outcomes including head circumference and anogenital index for male and female infants, according to data from 65 mother-infant pairs.

Phthalates are recognized endocrine disruptors that have been associated with adverse birth outcomes, but the specific relationship between maternal phthalate exposure and birth outcomes has not been well studied, wrote Hsiao-Lin Hwa, MD, of National Taiwan University, Taipei, and colleagues.

Previous research suggests that trace exposure to hazardous chemicals during the fetal period “may cause fetal metabolic dysfunction and adversely change the morphology of body systems,” they said. In 2011, “the Taiwan Food and Drug Administration found that di‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate (DEHP) and DiNP [di‐isononyl phthalate] had been illegally added as emulsifiers to replace palm oil in beverages and food,” they added. The researchers sought to examine the association between infant birth outcomes and phthalate exposure levels in the Taiwanese population after 2011. In a study published in Environmental Toxicology and Chemistry, the researchers recruited 65 pregnant women in Taiwan between 2016 and 2017. Birth length, birth weight, head circumference, anogenital distance (AGD), anoscrotal distance (ASD), and anofourchette distance (AFD) were measured for each newborn at the time of delivery. The average age of the women was 33.6 years, and the rate of low birth weight was 13.7%. The mean measures of birth length, birth weight, head circumference, and chest circumference were 47.6 cm, 3022 g, 32.9 cm, and 30.8 mm, respectively. The mean AFD and ASD were 14.2 mm and 22.3 mm, respectively.

The researchers tested for 12 phthalates in maternal blood and cord blood samples. Of these, the six most frequently detected phthalate metabolites were mono‐ethyl phthalate (MEP), mono‐isobutyl phthalate (MiBP), mono‐n‐butyl phthalate (MnBP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐oxohexyl)‐phthalate (MEOHP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐hydroxyhexyl) phthalate (MEHHP), and mono‐n‐octyl phthalate (MOP); these six were present in 80%–100% of the maternal blood samples.

Overall, the mean levels of MEP, MiBP, MnBP, and MEHP were relatively higher in both maternal and infant blood than other phthalates, the researchers noted. The mean concentrations of metabolites in maternal blood and infant cord blood were 0.03-2.27 ng/mL and 0.01-3.74 ng/mL, respectively.

Among male infants, levels of MMP, MiBP, and MEHP in maternal blood were inversely related to anogenital index (AGI), with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .011 to .033. In addition, the total concentration of MEHP, MEOHP, and MEHHP (designated as Σdi‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate, ΣDEHP) was inversely related to AGI in males.

Among female infants, however, phthalates in cord blood, rather than maternal blood, were positively related to AGI, including MMP, MibP, MnBP, and MOP, with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .001 to .034.

Cord blood levels of MnBP, MEOHP, MEHP, and ΣDEHP were inversely associated with gestational age-adjusted head circumference in all infants, with beta coefficients of –0.15, –0.12, –0.01, and –0.01, respectively (P < .05 for all).

“The detection rates of MEHHP, MEOHP, and MEHP in the cord blood were lower than those in the maternal blood, particularly those of MEHHP and MEOHP, which were approximately 25% lower,” which may be caused by slow placental transfer, the researchers wrote in their discussion section. “The high detection rate of phthalate metabolites indicated that our subjects may continue to be exposed to these phthalates even after the 2011 Taiwan DEHP incident,” they noted.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the possibility for contamination of samples and other environmental confounders, the researchers noted. However, the results support the role of phthalates as endocrine disruptors, and the distinction in effects between males and females “may suggest that phthalate monoesters are potentially estrogenic and antiandrogenic chemicals,” they added.

“Further investigations involving multiple phthalate analyses during pregnancy and measurements throughout childhood are necessary to confirm our findings,” they concluded.
 

Direct clinical implications remain uncertain

“Phthalates are a group of chemicals that are used to make plastic more durable; they are found in multiple everyday materials, food products, and common household products,” Marissa Platner, MD, of Emory University, Atlanta, said in an interview. “It is known that we are exposed to phthalates on a routine basis but the long-term effects of this exposure are unclear,” she said.

The current study findings “were not entirely surprising given data from prior animal studies because they do imply that there is some placental transfer of the phthalate metabolites that can cause adverse effects on the developing fetus,” said Dr. Platner. “However, they also demonstrate that the placenta acts as a filter for certain larger molecules to protect the fetus,” she said.

“This study was based on a small sample size, therefore the clinical implications are not clear,” Dr. Platner noted. “However it may be worthwhile after further research to encourage our pregnant patients to try to decrease their exposure to phthalates,” she said.

Dr. Platner identified two areas for additional research to explore the role of phthalate exposure.

“The first would be to assess the level of maternal phthalate exposure throughout the pregnancy instead of just at one point in time, and the second would be to assess how the reproductive system differences at birth translate to long-term outcomes in children, such as early puberty in females or decreased fertility in males,” she said.  

The study was funded by the Ministry of Science and Technology of Taiwan and the Far Eastern Memorial Hospital‐National Taiwan University Hospital. The researchers and Dr. Platner had no financial conflicts to disclose.

Exposure to phthalates through maternal blood and cord blood affected outcomes including head circumference and anogenital index for male and female infants, according to data from 65 mother-infant pairs.

Phthalates are recognized endocrine disruptors that have been associated with adverse birth outcomes, but the specific relationship between maternal phthalate exposure and birth outcomes has not been well studied, wrote Hsiao-Lin Hwa, MD, of National Taiwan University, Taipei, and colleagues.

Previous research suggests that trace exposure to hazardous chemicals during the fetal period “may cause fetal metabolic dysfunction and adversely change the morphology of body systems,” they said. In 2011, “the Taiwan Food and Drug Administration found that di‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate (DEHP) and DiNP [di‐isononyl phthalate] had been illegally added as emulsifiers to replace palm oil in beverages and food,” they added. The researchers sought to examine the association between infant birth outcomes and phthalate exposure levels in the Taiwanese population after 2011. In a study published in Environmental Toxicology and Chemistry, the researchers recruited 65 pregnant women in Taiwan between 2016 and 2017. Birth length, birth weight, head circumference, anogenital distance (AGD), anoscrotal distance (ASD), and anofourchette distance (AFD) were measured for each newborn at the time of delivery. The average age of the women was 33.6 years, and the rate of low birth weight was 13.7%. The mean measures of birth length, birth weight, head circumference, and chest circumference were 47.6 cm, 3022 g, 32.9 cm, and 30.8 mm, respectively. The mean AFD and ASD were 14.2 mm and 22.3 mm, respectively.

The researchers tested for 12 phthalates in maternal blood and cord blood samples. Of these, the six most frequently detected phthalate metabolites were mono‐ethyl phthalate (MEP), mono‐isobutyl phthalate (MiBP), mono‐n‐butyl phthalate (MnBP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐oxohexyl)‐phthalate (MEOHP), mono‐(2‐ethyl‐5‐hydroxyhexyl) phthalate (MEHHP), and mono‐n‐octyl phthalate (MOP); these six were present in 80%–100% of the maternal blood samples.

Overall, the mean levels of MEP, MiBP, MnBP, and MEHP were relatively higher in both maternal and infant blood than other phthalates, the researchers noted. The mean concentrations of metabolites in maternal blood and infant cord blood were 0.03-2.27 ng/mL and 0.01-3.74 ng/mL, respectively.

Among male infants, levels of MMP, MiBP, and MEHP in maternal blood were inversely related to anogenital index (AGI), with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .011 to .033. In addition, the total concentration of MEHP, MEOHP, and MEHHP (designated as Σdi‐2‐ethylhexyl phthalate, ΣDEHP) was inversely related to AGI in males.

Among female infants, however, phthalates in cord blood, rather than maternal blood, were positively related to AGI, including MMP, MibP, MnBP, and MOP, with P values for regression coefficients ranging from .001 to .034.

Cord blood levels of MnBP, MEOHP, MEHP, and ΣDEHP were inversely associated with gestational age-adjusted head circumference in all infants, with beta coefficients of –0.15, –0.12, –0.01, and –0.01, respectively (P < .05 for all).

“The detection rates of MEHHP, MEOHP, and MEHP in the cord blood were lower than those in the maternal blood, particularly those of MEHHP and MEOHP, which were approximately 25% lower,” which may be caused by slow placental transfer, the researchers wrote in their discussion section. “The high detection rate of phthalate metabolites indicated that our subjects may continue to be exposed to these phthalates even after the 2011 Taiwan DEHP incident,” they noted.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the possibility for contamination of samples and other environmental confounders, the researchers noted. However, the results support the role of phthalates as endocrine disruptors, and the distinction in effects between males and females “may suggest that phthalate monoesters are potentially estrogenic and antiandrogenic chemicals,” they added.

“Further investigations involving multiple phthalate analyses during pregnancy and measurements throughout childhood are necessary to confirm our findings,” they concluded.
 

Direct clinical implications remain uncertain

“Phthalates are a group of chemicals that are used to make plastic more durable; they are found in multiple everyday materials, food products, and common household products,” Marissa Platner, MD, of Emory University, Atlanta, said in an interview. “It is known that we are exposed to phthalates on a routine basis but the long-term effects of this exposure are unclear,” she said.

The current study findings “were not entirely surprising given data from prior animal studies because they do imply that there is some placental transfer of the phthalate metabolites that can cause adverse effects on the developing fetus,” said Dr. Platner. “However, they also demonstrate that the placenta acts as a filter for certain larger molecules to protect the fetus,” she said.

“This study was based on a small sample size, therefore the clinical implications are not clear,” Dr. Platner noted. “However it may be worthwhile after further research to encourage our pregnant patients to try to decrease their exposure to phthalates,” she said.

Dr. Platner identified two areas for additional research to explore the role of phthalate exposure.

“The first would be to assess the level of maternal phthalate exposure throughout the pregnancy instead of just at one point in time, and the second would be to assess how the reproductive system differences at birth translate to long-term outcomes in children, such as early puberty in females or decreased fertility in males,” she said.  

The study was funded by the Ministry of Science and Technology of Taiwan and the Far Eastern Memorial Hospital‐National Taiwan University Hospital. The researchers and Dr. Platner had no financial conflicts to disclose.

When we refer to “regular table salt,” it is most commonly in the form of sodium chloride, which is also a major constituent of packaged and ultraprocessed foods.

The best approach to finding the “healthiest salt” – which really means the lowest in sodium – is to look for the amount on the label. “Sodium-free” usually indicates less than 5 mg of sodium per serving, and “low-sodium” usually means 140 mg or less per serving. In contrast, regular table salt can contain as much as 560 mg of sodium in one serving.

Other en vogue salts, such as pink Himalayan salt, sea salt, and kosher salt, are high in sodium content – like regular table salt – but because of their larger crystal size, less sodium is delivered per serving.

Georges Lievre / Fotolia.com

FDA issues guidance on reducing salt

Currently, the U.S. sodium dietary guidelines for persons older than 14 stipulate 2,300 mg/d, which is equivalent to 1 teaspoon a day. However it is estimated that the average person in the United States consumes more than this – around 3,400 mg of sodium daily.

In October 2021, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration published guidance on voluntary sodium limitations in commercially processed, packaged, and prepared food. The FDA’s short-term approach is to slowly reduce exposure to sodium in processed and restaurant food by 2025, on the basis that people will eventually get used to less salt, as has happened in the United Kingdom and other countries.

Such strategies to reduce salt intake are now being used in national programs in several countries. Many of these successful initiatives include active engagement with the food industry to reduce the amount of sodium added to processed food, as well as public awareness campaigns to alert consumers to the dangers of eating too much salt. This includes increasing potassium in manufactured foods, primarily to target hypertension and heart disease, as described by Clare Farrand, MSc, BSc, and colleagues, in the Journal of Clinical Hypertension. The authors also make several recommendations regarding salt reduction policies:

• Food manufacturers should gradually reduce sodium in food to the lowest possible levels and explore the use of potassium-based sodium replacers to reduce sodium levels even further.
• Governments should continue to monitor sodium and potassium levels in processed foods.
• Further consideration may need to be given to how best to label salt substitutes (namely potassium) in processed foods to ensure that people who may be adversely affected are aware.
• Governments should systematically monitor potassium intake at the population level, including for specific susceptible groups.
• Governments should continue to systematically monitor sodium (salt) intake and iodine intake at the population level to adjust salt iodization over time as necessary, depending on observed salt intake in specific targeted groups, to ensure that they have sufficient but not excessive iodine intakes as salt intakes are reduced.
• Governments should consider opportunities for promoting and subsidizing salt substitutes, particularly in countries where salt added during cooking or at the table is the major source of salt in the diet.

The new FDA document includes 163 subcategories of foods in its voluntary salt reduction strategy.
 

Salt substitutes, high blood pressure, and mortality

Lowering sodium intake is almost certainly beneficial for persons with high blood pressure. In 2020, a review in Hypertension highlighted the benefit of salt substitutes in reducing hypertension, reporting that they lower systolic blood pressure by 5.58 mm Hg and diastolic blood pressure by 2.88 mm Hg.

And changes to dietary sodium intake can potentially reduce or obviate the need for medications for essential hypertension in some individuals. Although there are only a few studies on this topic, a study by Bruce Neal, MB, ChB, PhD, and colleagues, revealed a reduction in stroke, cardiovascular events, and deaths with the use of potassium-based salt substitutes.
 

Salt substitutes and sodium and potassium handling in the kidneys

Many studies have shown that potassium-rich salt substitutes are safe in individuals with normal kidney function, but are they safe and beneficial for people with chronic kidney disease (CKD)?

For anyone who is on a renal diet, potassium and sodium intake goals are limited according to their absolute level of kidney function.

There have been case reports of life-threatening blood potassium levels (hyperkalemia) due to potassium-rich salt substitutes in people with CKD, but no larger published studies on this topic can be found.

A diet modeling study by Rebecca Morrison and colleagues evaluated varying degrees of potassium-enriched salt substituted bread products and their impact on dietary intake in persons with CKD. They used dietary data from the National Nutrition and Physical Activity Survey 2011-2012 in Australia for 12,152 participants, 154 of whom had CKD. Replacing the sodium in bread with varying amounts of potassium chloride (20%, 30%, and 40%) would result in one-third of people with CKD exceeding the safe limits for dietary potassium consumption (31.8%, 32.6%, and 33%, respectively), they found.

“Potassium chloride substitution in staple foods such as bread and bread products have serious and potentially fatal consequences for people who need to restrict dietary potassium. Improved food labelling is required for consumers to avoid excessive consumption,” Ms. Morrison and colleagues concluded. They added that more studies are needed to further understand the risks of potassium dietary intake and hyperkalemia in CKD from potassium-based salt substitutes.

The American Heart Association recommends no more than 1,500 mg of sodium intake daily for persons with CKD, diabetes, or high blood pressure; those older than 51; and African American persons of any age.

The recommended daily intake of potassium in persons with CKD can range from 2,000 mg to 4,000 mg, depending on the individual and their degree of CKD. The potassium content in some salt substitutes varies from 440 mg to 2,800 mg per teaspoon.

The best recommendation for individuals with CKD and a goal to reduce their sodium intake is to use herbs and lower-sodium seasonings as a substitute, but these should always be reviewed with their physician and renal nutritionist.

Dr. Brookins is a board-certified nephrologist and internist practicing in Georgia. She is the founder and owner of Remote Renal Care, a telehealth kidney practice. She reported no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

When we refer to “regular table salt,” it is most commonly in the form of sodium chloride, which is also a major constituent of packaged and ultraprocessed foods.

The best approach to finding the “healthiest salt” – which really means the lowest in sodium – is to look for the amount on the label. “Sodium-free” usually indicates less than 5 mg of sodium per serving, and “low-sodium” usually means 140 mg or less per serving. In contrast, regular table salt can contain as much as 560 mg of sodium in one serving.

Other en vogue salts, such as pink Himalayan salt, sea salt, and kosher salt, are high in sodium content – like regular table salt – but because of their larger crystal size, less sodium is delivered per serving.

Georges Lievre / Fotolia.com

FDA issues guidance on reducing salt

Currently, the U.S. sodium dietary guidelines for persons older than 14 stipulate 2,300 mg/d, which is equivalent to 1 teaspoon a day. However it is estimated that the average person in the United States consumes more than this – around 3,400 mg of sodium daily.

In October 2021, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration published guidance on voluntary sodium limitations in commercially processed, packaged, and prepared food. The FDA’s short-term approach is to slowly reduce exposure to sodium in processed and restaurant food by 2025, on the basis that people will eventually get used to less salt, as has happened in the United Kingdom and other countries.

Such strategies to reduce salt intake are now being used in national programs in several countries. Many of these successful initiatives include active engagement with the food industry to reduce the amount of sodium added to processed food, as well as public awareness campaigns to alert consumers to the dangers of eating too much salt. This includes increasing potassium in manufactured foods, primarily to target hypertension and heart disease, as described by Clare Farrand, MSc, BSc, and colleagues, in the Journal of Clinical Hypertension. The authors also make several recommendations regarding salt reduction policies:

• Food manufacturers should gradually reduce sodium in food to the lowest possible levels and explore the use of potassium-based sodium replacers to reduce sodium levels even further.
• Governments should continue to monitor sodium and potassium levels in processed foods.
• Further consideration may need to be given to how best to label salt substitutes (namely potassium) in processed foods to ensure that people who may be adversely affected are aware.
• Governments should systematically monitor potassium intake at the population level, including for specific susceptible groups.
• Governments should continue to systematically monitor sodium (salt) intake and iodine intake at the population level to adjust salt iodization over time as necessary, depending on observed salt intake in specific targeted groups, to ensure that they have sufficient but not excessive iodine intakes as salt intakes are reduced.
• Governments should consider opportunities for promoting and subsidizing salt substitutes, particularly in countries where salt added during cooking or at the table is the major source of salt in the diet.

The new FDA document includes 163 subcategories of foods in its voluntary salt reduction strategy.
 

Salt substitutes, high blood pressure, and mortality

Lowering sodium intake is almost certainly beneficial for persons with high blood pressure. In 2020, a review in Hypertension highlighted the benefit of salt substitutes in reducing hypertension, reporting that they lower systolic blood pressure by 5.58 mm Hg and diastolic blood pressure by 2.88 mm Hg.

And changes to dietary sodium intake can potentially reduce or obviate the need for medications for essential hypertension in some individuals. Although there are only a few studies on this topic, a study by Bruce Neal, MB, ChB, PhD, and colleagues, revealed a reduction in stroke, cardiovascular events, and deaths with the use of potassium-based salt substitutes.
 

Salt substitutes and sodium and potassium handling in the kidneys

Many studies have shown that potassium-rich salt substitutes are safe in individuals with normal kidney function, but are they safe and beneficial for people with chronic kidney disease (CKD)?

For anyone who is on a renal diet, potassium and sodium intake goals are limited according to their absolute level of kidney function.

There have been case reports of life-threatening blood potassium levels (hyperkalemia) due to potassium-rich salt substitutes in people with CKD, but no larger published studies on this topic can be found.

A diet modeling study by Rebecca Morrison and colleagues evaluated varying degrees of potassium-enriched salt substituted bread products and their impact on dietary intake in persons with CKD. They used dietary data from the National Nutrition and Physical Activity Survey 2011-2012 in Australia for 12,152 participants, 154 of whom had CKD. Replacing the sodium in bread with varying amounts of potassium chloride (20%, 30%, and 40%) would result in one-third of people with CKD exceeding the safe limits for dietary potassium consumption (31.8%, 32.6%, and 33%, respectively), they found.

“Potassium chloride substitution in staple foods such as bread and bread products have serious and potentially fatal consequences for people who need to restrict dietary potassium. Improved food labelling is required for consumers to avoid excessive consumption,” Ms. Morrison and colleagues concluded. They added that more studies are needed to further understand the risks of potassium dietary intake and hyperkalemia in CKD from potassium-based salt substitutes.

The American Heart Association recommends no more than 1,500 mg of sodium intake daily for persons with CKD, diabetes, or high blood pressure; those older than 51; and African American persons of any age.

The recommended daily intake of potassium in persons with CKD can range from 2,000 mg to 4,000 mg, depending on the individual and their degree of CKD. The potassium content in some salt substitutes varies from 440 mg to 2,800 mg per teaspoon.

The best recommendation for individuals with CKD and a goal to reduce their sodium intake is to use herbs and lower-sodium seasonings as a substitute, but these should always be reviewed with their physician and renal nutritionist.

Dr. Brookins is a board-certified nephrologist and internist practicing in Georgia. She is the founder and owner of Remote Renal Care, a telehealth kidney practice. She reported no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

When we refer to “regular table salt,” it is most commonly in the form of sodium chloride, which is also a major constituent of packaged and ultraprocessed foods.

The best approach to finding the “healthiest salt” – which really means the lowest in sodium – is to look for the amount on the label. “Sodium-free” usually indicates less than 5 mg of sodium per serving, and “low-sodium” usually means 140 mg or less per serving. In contrast, regular table salt can contain as much as 560 mg of sodium in one serving.

Other en vogue salts, such as pink Himalayan salt, sea salt, and kosher salt, are high in sodium content – like regular table salt – but because of their larger crystal size, less sodium is delivered per serving.

Georges Lievre / Fotolia.com

FDA issues guidance on reducing salt

Currently, the U.S. sodium dietary guidelines for persons older than 14 stipulate 2,300 mg/d, which is equivalent to 1 teaspoon a day. However it is estimated that the average person in the United States consumes more than this – around 3,400 mg of sodium daily.

In October 2021, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration published guidance on voluntary sodium limitations in commercially processed, packaged, and prepared food. The FDA’s short-term approach is to slowly reduce exposure to sodium in processed and restaurant food by 2025, on the basis that people will eventually get used to less salt, as has happened in the United Kingdom and other countries.

Such strategies to reduce salt intake are now being used in national programs in several countries. Many of these successful initiatives include active engagement with the food industry to reduce the amount of sodium added to processed food, as well as public awareness campaigns to alert consumers to the dangers of eating too much salt. This includes increasing potassium in manufactured foods, primarily to target hypertension and heart disease, as described by Clare Farrand, MSc, BSc, and colleagues, in the Journal of Clinical Hypertension. The authors also make several recommendations regarding salt reduction policies:

• Food manufacturers should gradually reduce sodium in food to the lowest possible levels and explore the use of potassium-based sodium replacers to reduce sodium levels even further.
• Governments should continue to monitor sodium and potassium levels in processed foods.
• Further consideration may need to be given to how best to label salt substitutes (namely potassium) in processed foods to ensure that people who may be adversely affected are aware.
• Governments should systematically monitor potassium intake at the population level, including for specific susceptible groups.
• Governments should continue to systematically monitor sodium (salt) intake and iodine intake at the population level to adjust salt iodization over time as necessary, depending on observed salt intake in specific targeted groups, to ensure that they have sufficient but not excessive iodine intakes as salt intakes are reduced.
• Governments should consider opportunities for promoting and subsidizing salt substitutes, particularly in countries where salt added during cooking or at the table is the major source of salt in the diet.

The new FDA document includes 163 subcategories of foods in its voluntary salt reduction strategy.
 

Salt substitutes, high blood pressure, and mortality

Lowering sodium intake is almost certainly beneficial for persons with high blood pressure. In 2020, a review in Hypertension highlighted the benefit of salt substitutes in reducing hypertension, reporting that they lower systolic blood pressure by 5.58 mm Hg and diastolic blood pressure by 2.88 mm Hg.

And changes to dietary sodium intake can potentially reduce or obviate the need for medications for essential hypertension in some individuals. Although there are only a few studies on this topic, a study by Bruce Neal, MB, ChB, PhD, and colleagues, revealed a reduction in stroke, cardiovascular events, and deaths with the use of potassium-based salt substitutes.
 

Salt substitutes and sodium and potassium handling in the kidneys

Many studies have shown that potassium-rich salt substitutes are safe in individuals with normal kidney function, but are they safe and beneficial for people with chronic kidney disease (CKD)?

For anyone who is on a renal diet, potassium and sodium intake goals are limited according to their absolute level of kidney function.

There have been case reports of life-threatening blood potassium levels (hyperkalemia) due to potassium-rich salt substitutes in people with CKD, but no larger published studies on this topic can be found.

A diet modeling study by Rebecca Morrison and colleagues evaluated varying degrees of potassium-enriched salt substituted bread products and their impact on dietary intake in persons with CKD. They used dietary data from the National Nutrition and Physical Activity Survey 2011-2012 in Australia for 12,152 participants, 154 of whom had CKD. Replacing the sodium in bread with varying amounts of potassium chloride (20%, 30%, and 40%) would result in one-third of people with CKD exceeding the safe limits for dietary potassium consumption (31.8%, 32.6%, and 33%, respectively), they found.

“Potassium chloride substitution in staple foods such as bread and bread products have serious and potentially fatal consequences for people who need to restrict dietary potassium. Improved food labelling is required for consumers to avoid excessive consumption,” Ms. Morrison and colleagues concluded. They added that more studies are needed to further understand the risks of potassium dietary intake and hyperkalemia in CKD from potassium-based salt substitutes.

The American Heart Association recommends no more than 1,500 mg of sodium intake daily for persons with CKD, diabetes, or high blood pressure; those older than 51; and African American persons of any age.

The recommended daily intake of potassium in persons with CKD can range from 2,000 mg to 4,000 mg, depending on the individual and their degree of CKD. The potassium content in some salt substitutes varies from 440 mg to 2,800 mg per teaspoon.

The best recommendation for individuals with CKD and a goal to reduce their sodium intake is to use herbs and lower-sodium seasonings as a substitute, but these should always be reviewed with their physician and renal nutritionist.

Dr. Brookins is a board-certified nephrologist and internist practicing in Georgia. She is the founder and owner of Remote Renal Care, a telehealth kidney practice. She reported no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

Universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes among schoolchildren would cost approximately 22 euros (about $25) per child screened, and about 7,000 euros (about $7,900) per child diagnosed, a new analysis of data from a German program finds.

The data come from the Fr1da study, in which a blood test for type 1 diabetes–associated islet autoantibodies is offered to all children aged 21 months to 6 years old in Bavaria.

Families of those who test positive are offered participation in a program of diabetes education, metabolic staging, psychological evaluation for stress, and prospective follow-up.

The researchers explain that, worldwide, 4 in 1,000 people under the age of 20 years have type 1 diabetes. It is the most common metabolic disease in children and adolescents. Only about 1 in 10 of those affected has a close relative with the disease. This means that type 1 diabetes can affect any child.

However, in many cases, the disease does not become known until a severe to life-threatening metabolic derailment known as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) occurs. This often leads to intensive medical treatment, a longer hospitalization, and poorer blood glucose control, which can result in an increased risk of secondary diseases and very high costs for the health care system.

“We want to protect as many children as possible from serious metabolic derailments. This is only possible with type 1 diabetes screenings. Therefore, we strongly support to include early detection tests in standard medical care,” Peter Achenbach, DrMed, senior author of the study, said in a statement from his institution, Helmholtz Zentrum München in Neuherberg, Germany.

The new findings were published in Diabetes Care by Florian M. Karl, also of Helmholtz Zentrum München, and colleagues.

In 2020, the Fr1da investigators reported that, of 90,632 children who participated from February 2015 to May 2019, 0.31% (280) were diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes through the presence of two or more islet autoantibodies.

This news organization asked Brett McQueen, PhD, who led a similar study examining cost and cost-effectiveness in the Autoimmunity Screening for Kids (ASK) program, in which Denver-area children aged 2-17 years are offered autoantibody screening for both type 1 diabetes and celiac disease, for comment.

“If we have a chance to change a child’s life from when they’re 2 or 3 years old and there’s even a small chance that this thing potentially improves health outcomes for a decent price, what are we waiting for?” said Dr. McQueen, who is assistant professor in the department of clinical pharmacy at the University of Colorado, Aurora.
 

Is DKA prevention enough to justify universal screening?

Although identifying type 1 diabetes before symptoms arise could help avoid DKA, currently no therapeutic interventions are available to prevent or delay the trajectory from presymptomatic to clinical type 1 diabetes.

A possible future intervention – the anti-CD3 monoclonal antibody teplizumab (Tzield, Provention Bio) – had a setback in July 2021 when the Food and Drug Administration declined to approve it for the delay of type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals.

However, on Feb. 22 Provention Bio announced that it has resubmitted the Biologics License Application for teplizumab for the delay of clinical type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals. The FDA now has 30 days to review the resubmission, determine whether it is complete and acceptable for review, and provide a review goal date, according to a company statement.

But even without the ability to forestall the development of type 1 diabetes, screening proponents point to the potential benefit from educating families about early signs of diabetes onset and thereby preventing progression to DKA and both its short-term and possible long-term sequelae.

Prevention of DKA at diagnosis has been linked to improved long-term glycemic control and other potential health benefits.

And the frequency of DKA at the onset of type 1 diabetes has increased in recent years, to more than 20% in Germany and over 45% in the United States.

But, prior data have suggested that universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes is unlikely to be cost effective if only the health and economic benefits of prevention of DKA at type 1 diabetes onset is considered, unless the screening costs are exceedingly low.
 

What will it take to implement universal screening?

“What this paper does is contribute really to our understanding of more around resource utilization,” noted Dr. McQueen. “As they correctly identify, it’s really hard to compare country prices. It’s easier to compare utilization.”

In Dr. McQueen’s ASK program, the cost per child screened and per case detected in that program were similar to those found in the German study, even though the cost of the antibody testing itself was considerably lower in Germany than in the United States.

Fr1da included more components of screening and monitoring than did ASK, Dr. McQueen told this news organization.

The conclusions of the ASK study were that “presymptomatic type 1 diabetes screening may be cost effective in areas with a high prevalence of DKA and an infrastructure facilitating screening and monitoring if the benefits of avoiding DKA events and improved [hemoglobin] A1c persist over long-run time horizons.”

Nonetheless, Dr. McQueen thinks it’s unlikely that universal screening will be recommended by professional societies or covered by payers in the United States until a pharmacologic intervention to forestall disease progression is available.“Teplizumab approval could move this along. ... We’re just trying to take one factor, the economics of it, to create the most efficient scenario so that if it were to be adopted we would catch the most cases, prevent the most complications, benefit children the most in terms of their lifetime health outcomes – all at the minimum cost possible.”
 

‘A benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening’

Mr. Karl and colleagues simulated the cost of implementation of this screening as standard care in Germany – assuming the same 0.31% prevalence found in Fr1da – the average cost per child was estimated at 21.73 euros, including 9.34 euros for laboratory costs, 12.25 euros for pediatrician costs, and 0.14 euros for local diabetes clinics to perform metabolic staging and education for children diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

The model included 50% of the costs incurred in Fr1da for obtaining informed consent. Negative autoantibody results from the initial screening were not communicated to families, and all children with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes received staging and education. The estimated average cost per diagnosed child was 7,035 euros.

“Although our analyses are subject to some level of uncertainty, they provide a benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening,” said coauthor Michael Laxy, MSc, PhD, also at Helmholtz Zentrum München.

“Next, we aim to evaluate the long-term ratio of screening costs, potential cost savings through the prevention of metabolic derailment and its consequences, and potentially increased quality of life with a type 1 diabetes screening compared to the costs and quality of life without a screening.”

Dr. McQueen is working along similar lines in Colorado, attempting to create a model that incorporates all the different possibilities including DKA monitoring, teplizumab availability, screening children at different ages, and the effect of including blood glucose monitoring in children identified with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

“There are so many different potential answers and avenues and no one has really put it all together,” he observed.

But he believes that economics shouldn’t be the only factor used in deciding whether to institute widespread screening.

This study was supported by grants from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the German Center for Diabetes Research (DZD). The Fr1da study was supported by grants from the LifeScience-Stiftung, JDRF International, the Bavarian State Ministry of Health and Care, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, Deutsche Diabetes-Stiftung, Landesverband Bayern der Betriebskrankenkassen, B. Braun-Stiftung, Deutsche Diabetes Hilfe, and the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the DZD. The authors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. The ASK study was funded by JDRF International, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, and Janssen Research and Development. Dr. McQueen has received institutional funding for value assessment applications from the Institute for Clinical and Economic Review, the PhRMA Foundation, and PhRMA.

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

Universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes among schoolchildren would cost approximately 22 euros (about $25) per child screened, and about 7,000 euros (about $7,900) per child diagnosed, a new analysis of data from a German program finds.

The data come from the Fr1da study, in which a blood test for type 1 diabetes–associated islet autoantibodies is offered to all children aged 21 months to 6 years old in Bavaria.

Families of those who test positive are offered participation in a program of diabetes education, metabolic staging, psychological evaluation for stress, and prospective follow-up.

The researchers explain that, worldwide, 4 in 1,000 people under the age of 20 years have type 1 diabetes. It is the most common metabolic disease in children and adolescents. Only about 1 in 10 of those affected has a close relative with the disease. This means that type 1 diabetes can affect any child.

However, in many cases, the disease does not become known until a severe to life-threatening metabolic derailment known as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) occurs. This often leads to intensive medical treatment, a longer hospitalization, and poorer blood glucose control, which can result in an increased risk of secondary diseases and very high costs for the health care system.

“We want to protect as many children as possible from serious metabolic derailments. This is only possible with type 1 diabetes screenings. Therefore, we strongly support to include early detection tests in standard medical care,” Peter Achenbach, DrMed, senior author of the study, said in a statement from his institution, Helmholtz Zentrum München in Neuherberg, Germany.

The new findings were published in Diabetes Care by Florian M. Karl, also of Helmholtz Zentrum München, and colleagues.

In 2020, the Fr1da investigators reported that, of 90,632 children who participated from February 2015 to May 2019, 0.31% (280) were diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes through the presence of two or more islet autoantibodies.

This news organization asked Brett McQueen, PhD, who led a similar study examining cost and cost-effectiveness in the Autoimmunity Screening for Kids (ASK) program, in which Denver-area children aged 2-17 years are offered autoantibody screening for both type 1 diabetes and celiac disease, for comment.

“If we have a chance to change a child’s life from when they’re 2 or 3 years old and there’s even a small chance that this thing potentially improves health outcomes for a decent price, what are we waiting for?” said Dr. McQueen, who is assistant professor in the department of clinical pharmacy at the University of Colorado, Aurora.
 

Is DKA prevention enough to justify universal screening?

Although identifying type 1 diabetes before symptoms arise could help avoid DKA, currently no therapeutic interventions are available to prevent or delay the trajectory from presymptomatic to clinical type 1 diabetes.

A possible future intervention – the anti-CD3 monoclonal antibody teplizumab (Tzield, Provention Bio) – had a setback in July 2021 when the Food and Drug Administration declined to approve it for the delay of type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals.

However, on Feb. 22 Provention Bio announced that it has resubmitted the Biologics License Application for teplizumab for the delay of clinical type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals. The FDA now has 30 days to review the resubmission, determine whether it is complete and acceptable for review, and provide a review goal date, according to a company statement.

But even without the ability to forestall the development of type 1 diabetes, screening proponents point to the potential benefit from educating families about early signs of diabetes onset and thereby preventing progression to DKA and both its short-term and possible long-term sequelae.

Prevention of DKA at diagnosis has been linked to improved long-term glycemic control and other potential health benefits.

And the frequency of DKA at the onset of type 1 diabetes has increased in recent years, to more than 20% in Germany and over 45% in the United States.

But, prior data have suggested that universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes is unlikely to be cost effective if only the health and economic benefits of prevention of DKA at type 1 diabetes onset is considered, unless the screening costs are exceedingly low.
 

What will it take to implement universal screening?

“What this paper does is contribute really to our understanding of more around resource utilization,” noted Dr. McQueen. “As they correctly identify, it’s really hard to compare country prices. It’s easier to compare utilization.”

In Dr. McQueen’s ASK program, the cost per child screened and per case detected in that program were similar to those found in the German study, even though the cost of the antibody testing itself was considerably lower in Germany than in the United States.

Fr1da included more components of screening and monitoring than did ASK, Dr. McQueen told this news organization.

The conclusions of the ASK study were that “presymptomatic type 1 diabetes screening may be cost effective in areas with a high prevalence of DKA and an infrastructure facilitating screening and monitoring if the benefits of avoiding DKA events and improved [hemoglobin] A1c persist over long-run time horizons.”

Nonetheless, Dr. McQueen thinks it’s unlikely that universal screening will be recommended by professional societies or covered by payers in the United States until a pharmacologic intervention to forestall disease progression is available.“Teplizumab approval could move this along. ... We’re just trying to take one factor, the economics of it, to create the most efficient scenario so that if it were to be adopted we would catch the most cases, prevent the most complications, benefit children the most in terms of their lifetime health outcomes – all at the minimum cost possible.”
 

‘A benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening’

Mr. Karl and colleagues simulated the cost of implementation of this screening as standard care in Germany – assuming the same 0.31% prevalence found in Fr1da – the average cost per child was estimated at 21.73 euros, including 9.34 euros for laboratory costs, 12.25 euros for pediatrician costs, and 0.14 euros for local diabetes clinics to perform metabolic staging and education for children diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

The model included 50% of the costs incurred in Fr1da for obtaining informed consent. Negative autoantibody results from the initial screening were not communicated to families, and all children with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes received staging and education. The estimated average cost per diagnosed child was 7,035 euros.

“Although our analyses are subject to some level of uncertainty, they provide a benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening,” said coauthor Michael Laxy, MSc, PhD, also at Helmholtz Zentrum München.

“Next, we aim to evaluate the long-term ratio of screening costs, potential cost savings through the prevention of metabolic derailment and its consequences, and potentially increased quality of life with a type 1 diabetes screening compared to the costs and quality of life without a screening.”

Dr. McQueen is working along similar lines in Colorado, attempting to create a model that incorporates all the different possibilities including DKA monitoring, teplizumab availability, screening children at different ages, and the effect of including blood glucose monitoring in children identified with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

“There are so many different potential answers and avenues and no one has really put it all together,” he observed.

But he believes that economics shouldn’t be the only factor used in deciding whether to institute widespread screening.

This study was supported by grants from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the German Center for Diabetes Research (DZD). The Fr1da study was supported by grants from the LifeScience-Stiftung, JDRF International, the Bavarian State Ministry of Health and Care, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, Deutsche Diabetes-Stiftung, Landesverband Bayern der Betriebskrankenkassen, B. Braun-Stiftung, Deutsche Diabetes Hilfe, and the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the DZD. The authors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. The ASK study was funded by JDRF International, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, and Janssen Research and Development. Dr. McQueen has received institutional funding for value assessment applications from the Institute for Clinical and Economic Review, the PhRMA Foundation, and PhRMA.

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

Universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes among schoolchildren would cost approximately 22 euros (about $25) per child screened, and about 7,000 euros (about $7,900) per child diagnosed, a new analysis of data from a German program finds.

The data come from the Fr1da study, in which a blood test for type 1 diabetes–associated islet autoantibodies is offered to all children aged 21 months to 6 years old in Bavaria.

Families of those who test positive are offered participation in a program of diabetes education, metabolic staging, psychological evaluation for stress, and prospective follow-up.

The researchers explain that, worldwide, 4 in 1,000 people under the age of 20 years have type 1 diabetes. It is the most common metabolic disease in children and adolescents. Only about 1 in 10 of those affected has a close relative with the disease. This means that type 1 diabetes can affect any child.

However, in many cases, the disease does not become known until a severe to life-threatening metabolic derailment known as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) occurs. This often leads to intensive medical treatment, a longer hospitalization, and poorer blood glucose control, which can result in an increased risk of secondary diseases and very high costs for the health care system.

“We want to protect as many children as possible from serious metabolic derailments. This is only possible with type 1 diabetes screenings. Therefore, we strongly support to include early detection tests in standard medical care,” Peter Achenbach, DrMed, senior author of the study, said in a statement from his institution, Helmholtz Zentrum München in Neuherberg, Germany.

The new findings were published in Diabetes Care by Florian M. Karl, also of Helmholtz Zentrum München, and colleagues.

In 2020, the Fr1da investigators reported that, of 90,632 children who participated from February 2015 to May 2019, 0.31% (280) were diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes through the presence of two or more islet autoantibodies.

This news organization asked Brett McQueen, PhD, who led a similar study examining cost and cost-effectiveness in the Autoimmunity Screening for Kids (ASK) program, in which Denver-area children aged 2-17 years are offered autoantibody screening for both type 1 diabetes and celiac disease, for comment.

“If we have a chance to change a child’s life from when they’re 2 or 3 years old and there’s even a small chance that this thing potentially improves health outcomes for a decent price, what are we waiting for?” said Dr. McQueen, who is assistant professor in the department of clinical pharmacy at the University of Colorado, Aurora.
 

Is DKA prevention enough to justify universal screening?

Although identifying type 1 diabetes before symptoms arise could help avoid DKA, currently no therapeutic interventions are available to prevent or delay the trajectory from presymptomatic to clinical type 1 diabetes.

A possible future intervention – the anti-CD3 monoclonal antibody teplizumab (Tzield, Provention Bio) – had a setback in July 2021 when the Food and Drug Administration declined to approve it for the delay of type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals.

However, on Feb. 22 Provention Bio announced that it has resubmitted the Biologics License Application for teplizumab for the delay of clinical type 1 diabetes in at-risk individuals. The FDA now has 30 days to review the resubmission, determine whether it is complete and acceptable for review, and provide a review goal date, according to a company statement.

But even without the ability to forestall the development of type 1 diabetes, screening proponents point to the potential benefit from educating families about early signs of diabetes onset and thereby preventing progression to DKA and both its short-term and possible long-term sequelae.

Prevention of DKA at diagnosis has been linked to improved long-term glycemic control and other potential health benefits.

And the frequency of DKA at the onset of type 1 diabetes has increased in recent years, to more than 20% in Germany and over 45% in the United States.

But, prior data have suggested that universal screening for presymptomatic type 1 diabetes is unlikely to be cost effective if only the health and economic benefits of prevention of DKA at type 1 diabetes onset is considered, unless the screening costs are exceedingly low.
 

What will it take to implement universal screening?

“What this paper does is contribute really to our understanding of more around resource utilization,” noted Dr. McQueen. “As they correctly identify, it’s really hard to compare country prices. It’s easier to compare utilization.”

In Dr. McQueen’s ASK program, the cost per child screened and per case detected in that program were similar to those found in the German study, even though the cost of the antibody testing itself was considerably lower in Germany than in the United States.

Fr1da included more components of screening and monitoring than did ASK, Dr. McQueen told this news organization.

The conclusions of the ASK study were that “presymptomatic type 1 diabetes screening may be cost effective in areas with a high prevalence of DKA and an infrastructure facilitating screening and monitoring if the benefits of avoiding DKA events and improved [hemoglobin] A1c persist over long-run time horizons.”

Nonetheless, Dr. McQueen thinks it’s unlikely that universal screening will be recommended by professional societies or covered by payers in the United States until a pharmacologic intervention to forestall disease progression is available.“Teplizumab approval could move this along. ... We’re just trying to take one factor, the economics of it, to create the most efficient scenario so that if it were to be adopted we would catch the most cases, prevent the most complications, benefit children the most in terms of their lifetime health outcomes – all at the minimum cost possible.”
 

‘A benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening’

Mr. Karl and colleagues simulated the cost of implementation of this screening as standard care in Germany – assuming the same 0.31% prevalence found in Fr1da – the average cost per child was estimated at 21.73 euros, including 9.34 euros for laboratory costs, 12.25 euros for pediatrician costs, and 0.14 euros for local diabetes clinics to perform metabolic staging and education for children diagnosed with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

The model included 50% of the costs incurred in Fr1da for obtaining informed consent. Negative autoantibody results from the initial screening were not communicated to families, and all children with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes received staging and education. The estimated average cost per diagnosed child was 7,035 euros.

“Although our analyses are subject to some level of uncertainty, they provide a benchmark for the expected implementation cost of screening,” said coauthor Michael Laxy, MSc, PhD, also at Helmholtz Zentrum München.

“Next, we aim to evaluate the long-term ratio of screening costs, potential cost savings through the prevention of metabolic derailment and its consequences, and potentially increased quality of life with a type 1 diabetes screening compared to the costs and quality of life without a screening.”

Dr. McQueen is working along similar lines in Colorado, attempting to create a model that incorporates all the different possibilities including DKA monitoring, teplizumab availability, screening children at different ages, and the effect of including blood glucose monitoring in children identified with presymptomatic type 1 diabetes.

“There are so many different potential answers and avenues and no one has really put it all together,” he observed.

But he believes that economics shouldn’t be the only factor used in deciding whether to institute widespread screening.

This study was supported by grants from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the German Center for Diabetes Research (DZD). The Fr1da study was supported by grants from the LifeScience-Stiftung, JDRF International, the Bavarian State Ministry of Health and Care, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, Deutsche Diabetes-Stiftung, Landesverband Bayern der Betriebskrankenkassen, B. Braun-Stiftung, Deutsche Diabetes Hilfe, and the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research to the DZD. The authors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. The ASK study was funded by JDRF International, the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, and Janssen Research and Development. Dr. McQueen has received institutional funding for value assessment applications from the Institute for Clinical and Economic Review, the PhRMA Foundation, and PhRMA.

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

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

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

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

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

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

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

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

Anecdotal reports have linked the vaccines against COVID-19 to the sudden loss of hearing in some people. But a new study has found no evidence for such a connection with any of the three approved shots. 

The analysis of data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) found that the incidence of sudden onset hearing loss was not elevated – and might even be a bit lower than expected – in the first few weeks after the injections.

“We’re not finding a signal,” said Eric J. Formeister, MD, a neurotology fellow at the Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and the first author of the U.S. study, which appeared Feb. 24 in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery.

Dr. Formeister and colleagues undertook the study in response to reports of hearing problems, including hearing loss and tinnitus, that occurred soon after COVID-19 vaccination.

They analyzed reports of sudden hearing loss, experienced within 21 days of vaccination, logged in VAERS. Anyone can report a potential event to the database, which does not require medical documentation in support of the adverse event. To minimize potential misdiagnoses, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reviewed only those reports that indicated that a doctor had diagnosed sudden hearing loss, leaving 555 cases (305 in women; mean age 54 years) between December 2020 and July 2021.

Dividing these reports by the total doses of vaccines administered in the United States during that period yielded an incidence rate of 0.6 cases of sudden hearing loss for every 100,000 people, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reported.

When the researchers divided all cases of hearing loss in the VAERS database (2,170) by the number of people who had received two doses of vaccine, the incidence rate increased to 28 per 100,000 people. For comparison, the authors reported, the incidence of sudden hearing loss within the United States population is between 11 and 77 per 100,000 people, depending on age.

“There was not an increase in cases of sudden [sensorineural] hearing loss associated with COVID-19 vaccination compared to previously published reports before the COVID-19 vaccination era,” study coauthor Elliott D. Kozin, MD, assistant professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview.

Another reassuring sign: If hearing loss were linked to the vaccines, the researchers said, they would expect to see an increase in the number of complaints in lockstep with an increase in the number of doses administered. However, the opposite was true. “[T]he rate of reports per 100,000 doses decreased across the vaccination period, despite large concomitant increases in the absolute number of vaccine doses administered per week,” the researchers reported.

They also looked at case reports of 21 men and women who had experienced sudden hearing loss after having received COVID-19 vaccines, to see if they could discern any clinically relevant signs of people most likely to experience the adverse event. However, the group had a range of preexisting conditions and varying times after receiving a vaccine when their hearing loss occurred, leading Dr. Formeister’s team to conclude that they could find no clear markers of risk.

“When we examined patients across several institutions, there was no obvious pattern. The patient demographics and clinical findings were variable,” Dr. Kozin said. A provisional interpretation of this data, he added, is that no link exists between COVID-19 vaccination and predictable hearing deficits, although the analysis covered a small number of patients.

“Association does not necessarily imply a causal relationship,” said Michael Brenner, MD, FACS, associate professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Dr. Brenner, who was not involved in the study, said any hearing loss attributed to the COVID-19 vaccines could have had other causes besides the injections.

But a second study, also published in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery on Feb. 24, leaves open the possibility of a link. Researchers in Israel looked for increases in steroid prescriptions used to treat sudden hearing loss as vaccination with the Pfizer version of the shot became widespread in that country. Their conclusion: The vaccine might be associated with a slightly increased risk of sudden hearing loss, although if so, that risk is likely “very small” and the benefits of vaccination “outweigh its potential association” with the side effect.

Dr. Brenner agreed. “The evidence supports [the] clear public health benefit of COVID-19 vaccination, and the scale of those benefits dwarfs associations with hearing, which are of uncertain significance,” he said.

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

Anecdotal reports have linked the vaccines against COVID-19 to the sudden loss of hearing in some people. But a new study has found no evidence for such a connection with any of the three approved shots. 

The analysis of data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) found that the incidence of sudden onset hearing loss was not elevated – and might even be a bit lower than expected – in the first few weeks after the injections.

“We’re not finding a signal,” said Eric J. Formeister, MD, a neurotology fellow at the Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and the first author of the U.S. study, which appeared Feb. 24 in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery.

Dr. Formeister and colleagues undertook the study in response to reports of hearing problems, including hearing loss and tinnitus, that occurred soon after COVID-19 vaccination.

They analyzed reports of sudden hearing loss, experienced within 21 days of vaccination, logged in VAERS. Anyone can report a potential event to the database, which does not require medical documentation in support of the adverse event. To minimize potential misdiagnoses, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reviewed only those reports that indicated that a doctor had diagnosed sudden hearing loss, leaving 555 cases (305 in women; mean age 54 years) between December 2020 and July 2021.

Dividing these reports by the total doses of vaccines administered in the United States during that period yielded an incidence rate of 0.6 cases of sudden hearing loss for every 100,000 people, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reported.

When the researchers divided all cases of hearing loss in the VAERS database (2,170) by the number of people who had received two doses of vaccine, the incidence rate increased to 28 per 100,000 people. For comparison, the authors reported, the incidence of sudden hearing loss within the United States population is between 11 and 77 per 100,000 people, depending on age.

“There was not an increase in cases of sudden [sensorineural] hearing loss associated with COVID-19 vaccination compared to previously published reports before the COVID-19 vaccination era,” study coauthor Elliott D. Kozin, MD, assistant professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview.

Another reassuring sign: If hearing loss were linked to the vaccines, the researchers said, they would expect to see an increase in the number of complaints in lockstep with an increase in the number of doses administered. However, the opposite was true. “[T]he rate of reports per 100,000 doses decreased across the vaccination period, despite large concomitant increases in the absolute number of vaccine doses administered per week,” the researchers reported.

They also looked at case reports of 21 men and women who had experienced sudden hearing loss after having received COVID-19 vaccines, to see if they could discern any clinically relevant signs of people most likely to experience the adverse event. However, the group had a range of preexisting conditions and varying times after receiving a vaccine when their hearing loss occurred, leading Dr. Formeister’s team to conclude that they could find no clear markers of risk.

“When we examined patients across several institutions, there was no obvious pattern. The patient demographics and clinical findings were variable,” Dr. Kozin said. A provisional interpretation of this data, he added, is that no link exists between COVID-19 vaccination and predictable hearing deficits, although the analysis covered a small number of patients.

“Association does not necessarily imply a causal relationship,” said Michael Brenner, MD, FACS, associate professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Dr. Brenner, who was not involved in the study, said any hearing loss attributed to the COVID-19 vaccines could have had other causes besides the injections.

But a second study, also published in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery on Feb. 24, leaves open the possibility of a link. Researchers in Israel looked for increases in steroid prescriptions used to treat sudden hearing loss as vaccination with the Pfizer version of the shot became widespread in that country. Their conclusion: The vaccine might be associated with a slightly increased risk of sudden hearing loss, although if so, that risk is likely “very small” and the benefits of vaccination “outweigh its potential association” with the side effect.

Dr. Brenner agreed. “The evidence supports [the] clear public health benefit of COVID-19 vaccination, and the scale of those benefits dwarfs associations with hearing, which are of uncertain significance,” he said.

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

Anecdotal reports have linked the vaccines against COVID-19 to the sudden loss of hearing in some people. But a new study has found no evidence for such a connection with any of the three approved shots. 

The analysis of data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) found that the incidence of sudden onset hearing loss was not elevated – and might even be a bit lower than expected – in the first few weeks after the injections.

“We’re not finding a signal,” said Eric J. Formeister, MD, a neurotology fellow at the Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and the first author of the U.S. study, which appeared Feb. 24 in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery.

Dr. Formeister and colleagues undertook the study in response to reports of hearing problems, including hearing loss and tinnitus, that occurred soon after COVID-19 vaccination.

They analyzed reports of sudden hearing loss, experienced within 21 days of vaccination, logged in VAERS. Anyone can report a potential event to the database, which does not require medical documentation in support of the adverse event. To minimize potential misdiagnoses, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reviewed only those reports that indicated that a doctor had diagnosed sudden hearing loss, leaving 555 cases (305 in women; mean age 54 years) between December 2020 and July 2021.

Dividing these reports by the total doses of vaccines administered in the United States during that period yielded an incidence rate of 0.6 cases of sudden hearing loss for every 100,000 people, Dr. Formeister and colleagues reported.

When the researchers divided all cases of hearing loss in the VAERS database (2,170) by the number of people who had received two doses of vaccine, the incidence rate increased to 28 per 100,000 people. For comparison, the authors reported, the incidence of sudden hearing loss within the United States population is between 11 and 77 per 100,000 people, depending on age.

“There was not an increase in cases of sudden [sensorineural] hearing loss associated with COVID-19 vaccination compared to previously published reports before the COVID-19 vaccination era,” study coauthor Elliott D. Kozin, MD, assistant professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview.

Another reassuring sign: If hearing loss were linked to the vaccines, the researchers said, they would expect to see an increase in the number of complaints in lockstep with an increase in the number of doses administered. However, the opposite was true. “[T]he rate of reports per 100,000 doses decreased across the vaccination period, despite large concomitant increases in the absolute number of vaccine doses administered per week,” the researchers reported.

They also looked at case reports of 21 men and women who had experienced sudden hearing loss after having received COVID-19 vaccines, to see if they could discern any clinically relevant signs of people most likely to experience the adverse event. However, the group had a range of preexisting conditions and varying times after receiving a vaccine when their hearing loss occurred, leading Dr. Formeister’s team to conclude that they could find no clear markers of risk.

“When we examined patients across several institutions, there was no obvious pattern. The patient demographics and clinical findings were variable,” Dr. Kozin said. A provisional interpretation of this data, he added, is that no link exists between COVID-19 vaccination and predictable hearing deficits, although the analysis covered a small number of patients.

“Association does not necessarily imply a causal relationship,” said Michael Brenner, MD, FACS, associate professor of otolaryngology–head and neck surgery at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Dr. Brenner, who was not involved in the study, said any hearing loss attributed to the COVID-19 vaccines could have had other causes besides the injections.

But a second study, also published in JAMA Otolaryngology – Head and Neck Surgery on Feb. 24, leaves open the possibility of a link. Researchers in Israel looked for increases in steroid prescriptions used to treat sudden hearing loss as vaccination with the Pfizer version of the shot became widespread in that country. Their conclusion: The vaccine might be associated with a slightly increased risk of sudden hearing loss, although if so, that risk is likely “very small” and the benefits of vaccination “outweigh its potential association” with the side effect.

Dr. Brenner agreed. “The evidence supports [the] clear public health benefit of COVID-19 vaccination, and the scale of those benefits dwarfs associations with hearing, which are of uncertain significance,” he said.

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

I have a secret. It’s one I think many physicians and nurses share. Sometimes, when I’m stretched too thin — overbooked, hungry, tired, fielding yet another appeal to an insurance company in the middle of a clinic day — I find myself momentarily resenting the patients on my schedule.

As soon as this happens, I feel immediate guilt. These are the worst moments of my day. Why the heck would I resent my patients? They’re the entire reason I’m there. I wouldn’t be a physician without patients to care for. I became a physician, and completed subspecialty training, to help patients. People.

Recently, I started thinking more about this emotion of resentment. What exactly is it, and where does it come from? Is what I’m feeling actually resentment? Or is it something else?

Two books I’ve recently read have helped me explore the complicated emotion of resentment and how it might play a role in burnout for both physicians and nurses.

First, Brené Brown’s most recent book, Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience, provides a roadmap for 87 of our human emotions. (That’s right — 87!)

One emotion of the 87 that she shares has been a particular struggle for her has been our good old friend, resentment.

In her book, Dr Brown shares that she initially considered resentment to belong to the anger family of emotion. As I read this, I agreed. When I feel resentful, I associate that with feeling angry.

But she then writes about her discovery that resentment, in fact, belongs to the envy family. She explains how this discovery shook her world. I had to close the book for a moment at this point.

Wait a minute, I thought. If resentment is in the envy family, why do we (physicians) often find ourselves resenting patients who take up our time? What are we envious of?

I took some time to think about how this might be true. Could it be that I’m envious they have the time I don’t have? I want to have all the time in the world to answer their questions, but the reality is I don’t.

Or maybe it’s because sometimes I feel the patient is expecting me to offer them something more than is available. A cure when there might be none.

But is this actually true? Or is this my unrealistic expectation of myself?

Here’s how Brené Brown defines resentment in her book: “Resentment is the feeling of frustration, judgment, anger, ‘better than,’ and/or hidden envy related to perceived unfairness or injustice. It’s an emotion that we often experience when we fail to set boundaries or ask for what we need, or when expectations let us down because they were based on things we can’t control, like what other people think, what they feel, or how they’re going to react.”

Wow, I thought, Healthcare checks all of these boxes.

• Perceived unfairness of work schedules? Check.
• Perceived injustice? Of course — we see that in our dealings with insurance company denials every day.

But those are both extrinsic. What about the intrinsic factors she’s calling us out on here?

• Do we, as physicians, fail to set boundaries?
• Do we fail to ask for what we need?

Hard yes and yes. (Do we even know, as physicians, what our own boundaries are?)

And the last one:

• Do our expectations of how our clinic day will go let us down every day because they’re based on things we can’t control?

My brain had to repeat the critical parts of that: Expectations let us down when they’re based on things we can’t control.

But wait, my brain argued back; I’m the physician, I thought I was supposed to get to control things.

Next, the revelation: Could it be that a key to experiencing less resentment is accepting how much control we don’t have in a typical day?

And a corollary: How much does resentment factor into burnout? (To read more on my personal journey with burnout, see this piece).

It so happens that around this same time, I was reading another excellent book, Changing How We Think About Difficult Patients: A Guide for Physicians and Healthcare Professionals, by Joan Naidorf, DO.

Dr Naidorf is an emergency medicine physician of 30 years who wrote the book to “provid[e] insight and tools to manage our negative thoughts about difficult patients” and help “beleaguered colleagues…return to their benevolent guiding principles and find more enjoyment in their vitally important careers.”

As I read Dr Naidorf’s book, I thus did so with the mindset of wanting to further understand for myself where this specific emotion of resentment toward our “difficult” patients could come from and how to best understand it in order to get past it.

Dr. Naidorf writes, “Challenging patients will never stop appearing… You cannot change them or control them—the only person you can control is you.”

I wondered how much the resentment we might involuntarily feel at being asked to see a “difficult” patient has nothing to do with the patient but everything to do with it making us feel not in control of the situation.

Dr. Naidorf also writes, “Negative thoughts about challenging patients can cause, in otherwise capable clinicians, a sense of inadequacy and incompetence.”

Do we perhaps resent our challenging patients because of the negative thoughts they sometimes trigger in us? If so, how does this relate to envy, as Dr. Brown asserts resentment is tied to? Is it triggering us to feel inadequate?

“[Difficult patients] often make us question ourselves,” Dr. Naidorf writes, “and we need to feel comfortable with the answers.”

Again, the discrepancy between expectations and reality creates the negative emotion.

Or, as Dr. Naidorf writes, “What if you could stop judging others so harshly and accept them exactly as they are?”

Hmmm, I thought, then the cessation of harsh judgment and implementation of acceptance would have to apply to us too. The elusive concept of self-compassion.

Maybe the resentment/envy comes from us not allowing ourselves to behave in this way because to do so would allow too much vulnerability. Something most of us were conditioned to avoid to survive medical training.

Dr. Brown also writes about an “aha” moment she had in her struggle to understand resentment. “I’m not mad because you’re resting. I’m mad because I’m so bone tired and I want to rest. But, unlike you, I’m going to pretend that I don’t need to.”

I felt all too seen in that passage. Could it be my old nemesis, perfectionism, creeping its way back in? Is resentment the ugly stepsister to perfectionism?

Perhaps challenging patients can engender resentment because they make us feel like we’re not living up to our own unrealistic expectations. And in that case, we need to change our unrealistic expectations for ourselves.

Dr Naidorf’s book explores much more on the complex matter of what makes a “difficult” patient, but I chose to focus here only on the resentment piece as a tie-in to Dr. Brown’s book. I highly recommend both books for further reading to help physicians and nurses navigate the complex emotions our jobs can trigger.

Most importantly, recognizing that we have these transient negative emotions does not make us bad people or healthcare professionals. It only makes us human.

Dr. Lycette is medical director, Providence Oncology and Hematology Care Clinic, Seaside, Ore. She has disclosed having no relevant financial relationships.

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

I have a secret. It’s one I think many physicians and nurses share. Sometimes, when I’m stretched too thin — overbooked, hungry, tired, fielding yet another appeal to an insurance company in the middle of a clinic day — I find myself momentarily resenting the patients on my schedule.

As soon as this happens, I feel immediate guilt. These are the worst moments of my day. Why the heck would I resent my patients? They’re the entire reason I’m there. I wouldn’t be a physician without patients to care for. I became a physician, and completed subspecialty training, to help patients. People.

Recently, I started thinking more about this emotion of resentment. What exactly is it, and where does it come from? Is what I’m feeling actually resentment? Or is it something else?

Two books I’ve recently read have helped me explore the complicated emotion of resentment and how it might play a role in burnout for both physicians and nurses.

First, Brené Brown’s most recent book, Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience, provides a roadmap for 87 of our human emotions. (That’s right — 87!)

One emotion of the 87 that she shares has been a particular struggle for her has been our good old friend, resentment.

In her book, Dr Brown shares that she initially considered resentment to belong to the anger family of emotion. As I read this, I agreed. When I feel resentful, I associate that with feeling angry.

But she then writes about her discovery that resentment, in fact, belongs to the envy family. She explains how this discovery shook her world. I had to close the book for a moment at this point.

Wait a minute, I thought. If resentment is in the envy family, why do we (physicians) often find ourselves resenting patients who take up our time? What are we envious of?

I took some time to think about how this might be true. Could it be that I’m envious they have the time I don’t have? I want to have all the time in the world to answer their questions, but the reality is I don’t.

Or maybe it’s because sometimes I feel the patient is expecting me to offer them something more than is available. A cure when there might be none.

But is this actually true? Or is this my unrealistic expectation of myself?

Here’s how Brené Brown defines resentment in her book: “Resentment is the feeling of frustration, judgment, anger, ‘better than,’ and/or hidden envy related to perceived unfairness or injustice. It’s an emotion that we often experience when we fail to set boundaries or ask for what we need, or when expectations let us down because they were based on things we can’t control, like what other people think, what they feel, or how they’re going to react.”

Wow, I thought, Healthcare checks all of these boxes.

• Perceived unfairness of work schedules? Check.
• Perceived injustice? Of course — we see that in our dealings with insurance company denials every day.

But those are both extrinsic. What about the intrinsic factors she’s calling us out on here?

• Do we, as physicians, fail to set boundaries?
• Do we fail to ask for what we need?

Hard yes and yes. (Do we even know, as physicians, what our own boundaries are?)

And the last one:

• Do our expectations of how our clinic day will go let us down every day because they’re based on things we can’t control?

My brain had to repeat the critical parts of that: Expectations let us down when they’re based on things we can’t control.

But wait, my brain argued back; I’m the physician, I thought I was supposed to get to control things.

Next, the revelation: Could it be that a key to experiencing less resentment is accepting how much control we don’t have in a typical day?

And a corollary: How much does resentment factor into burnout? (To read more on my personal journey with burnout, see this piece).

It so happens that around this same time, I was reading another excellent book, Changing How We Think About Difficult Patients: A Guide for Physicians and Healthcare Professionals, by Joan Naidorf, DO.

Dr Naidorf is an emergency medicine physician of 30 years who wrote the book to “provid[e] insight and tools to manage our negative thoughts about difficult patients” and help “beleaguered colleagues…return to their benevolent guiding principles and find more enjoyment in their vitally important careers.”

As I read Dr Naidorf’s book, I thus did so with the mindset of wanting to further understand for myself where this specific emotion of resentment toward our “difficult” patients could come from and how to best understand it in order to get past it.

Dr. Naidorf writes, “Challenging patients will never stop appearing… You cannot change them or control them—the only person you can control is you.”

I wondered how much the resentment we might involuntarily feel at being asked to see a “difficult” patient has nothing to do with the patient but everything to do with it making us feel not in control of the situation.

Dr. Naidorf also writes, “Negative thoughts about challenging patients can cause, in otherwise capable clinicians, a sense of inadequacy and incompetence.”

Do we perhaps resent our challenging patients because of the negative thoughts they sometimes trigger in us? If so, how does this relate to envy, as Dr. Brown asserts resentment is tied to? Is it triggering us to feel inadequate?

“[Difficult patients] often make us question ourselves,” Dr. Naidorf writes, “and we need to feel comfortable with the answers.”

Again, the discrepancy between expectations and reality creates the negative emotion.

Or, as Dr. Naidorf writes, “What if you could stop judging others so harshly and accept them exactly as they are?”

Hmmm, I thought, then the cessation of harsh judgment and implementation of acceptance would have to apply to us too. The elusive concept of self-compassion.

Maybe the resentment/envy comes from us not allowing ourselves to behave in this way because to do so would allow too much vulnerability. Something most of us were conditioned to avoid to survive medical training.

Dr. Brown also writes about an “aha” moment she had in her struggle to understand resentment. “I’m not mad because you’re resting. I’m mad because I’m so bone tired and I want to rest. But, unlike you, I’m going to pretend that I don’t need to.”

I felt all too seen in that passage. Could it be my old nemesis, perfectionism, creeping its way back in? Is resentment the ugly stepsister to perfectionism?

Perhaps challenging patients can engender resentment because they make us feel like we’re not living up to our own unrealistic expectations. And in that case, we need to change our unrealistic expectations for ourselves.

Dr Naidorf’s book explores much more on the complex matter of what makes a “difficult” patient, but I chose to focus here only on the resentment piece as a tie-in to Dr. Brown’s book. I highly recommend both books for further reading to help physicians and nurses navigate the complex emotions our jobs can trigger.

Most importantly, recognizing that we have these transient negative emotions does not make us bad people or healthcare professionals. It only makes us human.

Dr. Lycette is medical director, Providence Oncology and Hematology Care Clinic, Seaside, Ore. She has disclosed having no relevant financial relationships.

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

I have a secret. It’s one I think many physicians and nurses share. Sometimes, when I’m stretched too thin — overbooked, hungry, tired, fielding yet another appeal to an insurance company in the middle of a clinic day — I find myself momentarily resenting the patients on my schedule.

As soon as this happens, I feel immediate guilt. These are the worst moments of my day. Why the heck would I resent my patients? They’re the entire reason I’m there. I wouldn’t be a physician without patients to care for. I became a physician, and completed subspecialty training, to help patients. People.

Recently, I started thinking more about this emotion of resentment. What exactly is it, and where does it come from? Is what I’m feeling actually resentment? Or is it something else?

Two books I’ve recently read have helped me explore the complicated emotion of resentment and how it might play a role in burnout for both physicians and nurses.

First, Brené Brown’s most recent book, Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience, provides a roadmap for 87 of our human emotions. (That’s right — 87!)

One emotion of the 87 that she shares has been a particular struggle for her has been our good old friend, resentment.

In her book, Dr Brown shares that she initially considered resentment to belong to the anger family of emotion. As I read this, I agreed. When I feel resentful, I associate that with feeling angry.

But she then writes about her discovery that resentment, in fact, belongs to the envy family. She explains how this discovery shook her world. I had to close the book for a moment at this point.

Wait a minute, I thought. If resentment is in the envy family, why do we (physicians) often find ourselves resenting patients who take up our time? What are we envious of?

I took some time to think about how this might be true. Could it be that I’m envious they have the time I don’t have? I want to have all the time in the world to answer their questions, but the reality is I don’t.

Or maybe it’s because sometimes I feel the patient is expecting me to offer them something more than is available. A cure when there might be none.

But is this actually true? Or is this my unrealistic expectation of myself?

Here’s how Brené Brown defines resentment in her book: “Resentment is the feeling of frustration, judgment, anger, ‘better than,’ and/or hidden envy related to perceived unfairness or injustice. It’s an emotion that we often experience when we fail to set boundaries or ask for what we need, or when expectations let us down because they were based on things we can’t control, like what other people think, what they feel, or how they’re going to react.”

Wow, I thought, Healthcare checks all of these boxes.

• Perceived unfairness of work schedules? Check.
• Perceived injustice? Of course — we see that in our dealings with insurance company denials every day.

But those are both extrinsic. What about the intrinsic factors she’s calling us out on here?

• Do we, as physicians, fail to set boundaries?
• Do we fail to ask for what we need?

Hard yes and yes. (Do we even know, as physicians, what our own boundaries are?)

And the last one:

• Do our expectations of how our clinic day will go let us down every day because they’re based on things we can’t control?

My brain had to repeat the critical parts of that: Expectations let us down when they’re based on things we can’t control.

But wait, my brain argued back; I’m the physician, I thought I was supposed to get to control things.

Next, the revelation: Could it be that a key to experiencing less resentment is accepting how much control we don’t have in a typical day?

And a corollary: How much does resentment factor into burnout? (To read more on my personal journey with burnout, see this piece).

It so happens that around this same time, I was reading another excellent book, Changing How We Think About Difficult Patients: A Guide for Physicians and Healthcare Professionals, by Joan Naidorf, DO.

Dr Naidorf is an emergency medicine physician of 30 years who wrote the book to “provid[e] insight and tools to manage our negative thoughts about difficult patients” and help “beleaguered colleagues…return to their benevolent guiding principles and find more enjoyment in their vitally important careers.”

As I read Dr Naidorf’s book, I thus did so with the mindset of wanting to further understand for myself where this specific emotion of resentment toward our “difficult” patients could come from and how to best understand it in order to get past it.

Dr. Naidorf writes, “Challenging patients will never stop appearing… You cannot change them or control them—the only person you can control is you.”

I wondered how much the resentment we might involuntarily feel at being asked to see a “difficult” patient has nothing to do with the patient but everything to do with it making us feel not in control of the situation.

Dr. Naidorf also writes, “Negative thoughts about challenging patients can cause, in otherwise capable clinicians, a sense of inadequacy and incompetence.”

Do we perhaps resent our challenging patients because of the negative thoughts they sometimes trigger in us? If so, how does this relate to envy, as Dr. Brown asserts resentment is tied to? Is it triggering us to feel inadequate?

“[Difficult patients] often make us question ourselves,” Dr. Naidorf writes, “and we need to feel comfortable with the answers.”

Again, the discrepancy between expectations and reality creates the negative emotion.

Or, as Dr. Naidorf writes, “What if you could stop judging others so harshly and accept them exactly as they are?”

Hmmm, I thought, then the cessation of harsh judgment and implementation of acceptance would have to apply to us too. The elusive concept of self-compassion.

Maybe the resentment/envy comes from us not allowing ourselves to behave in this way because to do so would allow too much vulnerability. Something most of us were conditioned to avoid to survive medical training.

Dr. Brown also writes about an “aha” moment she had in her struggle to understand resentment. “I’m not mad because you’re resting. I’m mad because I’m so bone tired and I want to rest. But, unlike you, I’m going to pretend that I don’t need to.”

I felt all too seen in that passage. Could it be my old nemesis, perfectionism, creeping its way back in? Is resentment the ugly stepsister to perfectionism?

Perhaps challenging patients can engender resentment because they make us feel like we’re not living up to our own unrealistic expectations. And in that case, we need to change our unrealistic expectations for ourselves.

Dr Naidorf’s book explores much more on the complex matter of what makes a “difficult” patient, but I chose to focus here only on the resentment piece as a tie-in to Dr. Brown’s book. I highly recommend both books for further reading to help physicians and nurses navigate the complex emotions our jobs can trigger.

Most importantly, recognizing that we have these transient negative emotions does not make us bad people or healthcare professionals. It only makes us human.

Dr. Lycette is medical director, Providence Oncology and Hematology Care Clinic, Seaside, Ore. She has disclosed having no relevant financial relationships.

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

Nasogastric tubes. Foley catheter kits. Hydrogel anti-burn bandages and transfusion bags. Heparin, atropine, tramadol.

These items are just a few of some two dozen critical medical supplies that physicians in Ukraine desperately need, according to Leo Wolansky, MD, a Ukrainian-American radiologist and president of the Ukrainian Medical Association of North America (UMANA).

Dr. Wolansky founded a teaching program with an organization called Friends of Radiology in Ukraine in 1996 and has been running courses for specialists there ever since. He last visited the country in 2019, before the COVID-19 pandemic, but has remained in contact with his medical colleagues by phone and email. Over the weekend of Feb. 26-27, UMANA held a fundraiser for Ukraine, raising more than $17,000.

This news organization spoke with Dr. Wolansky about the situation for his fellow physicians in the war-torn country.

Question: Where is your family from, and do you have relatives in the country now?

Dr. Wolansky: My family is from two different parts of Ukraine. My mother was from central Ukraine. Her father, Ivan Sharyj, was part of the students’ militia that fought at the famous battle of Kruty in 1918. Four hundred Ukrainian militia fought against 5,000 professional Russian soldiers and were massacred. He later wrote the first eye-witness account. Afterwards, he had the opportunity to flee Ukraine but chose to stay under a pseudonym. Eventually, during Stalin’s purges [1929-1933], the regime found him, arrested him, tortured him, and executed him. My mother was seven when she saw her father arrested, never to return home. My father was from Western Ukraine, which did not have a long history of Russian occupation. His mother’s family was very patriotic; her first cousin, Stepan Vytvytskyi, eventually became the president of Ukraine in exile from 1955-1964.

I have second and more distant cousins in Kyiv. My wife has first cousins in Western Ukraine. They and my doctor colleagues are suffering greatly but are ready to die for their freedom.

Question: The Russian invasion of Ukraine has put tremendous stress on the Ukrainian people, including the country’s medical professionals. How do doctors in these kinds of situations handle casualties they can’t prevent? How do they work around that sense that everything is out of their control?

Dr. Wolansky: A lot of infrastructural things are being disrupted; there are limitations that you wouldn’t normally encounter. Ukraine has been developing a lot of sophisticated medical technology, but it still has room to grow. Under these circumstances, when there are bombs going off and transportation is being disrupted, it creates very new and significant obstacles to surmount. It still has not risen to massive casualties, and we can just pray that it does not, but in times of war, a very different kind of medicine is practiced.

But remember, Ukraine has been at war since 2014, when Russia took Crimea and invaded the Eastern provinces. The doctors there are not unfamiliar with war injuries. At our conferences in Ukraine, I have seen radiological presentations of injuries sustained in war – gunshots, fractures, and amputations – as well as other kinds of traumatic injuries. You’re going for a kind of more emergent treatment: to transfuse, to maintain peoples’ blood pressure, put bandages on, sterilize and sanitize wounds to prevent infections. I imagine there will be many field hospitals set up between now and the next few weeks to deal with the acute injuries.

Question: Ukraine has struggled with high rates of HIV and multidrug-resistant tuberculosis, as well as a lack of resources for treating patients with mental illness. Meanwhile, the country has had more that 5 million cases of COVID-19 and an estimated 112,000 deaths from the disease. Are you concerned about an exacerbation of infection rates, including of COVID, particularly among refugees and those who become homeless?

Dr. Wolansky: Because COVID ran pretty rampant in Ukraine, I think that – at a high cost – there is a level of natural immunity in the population. And the weather is going to be getting warmer soon, and respiratory viruses are cyclic in nature, so I don’t know if that’s going to be a big complicating factor. However, people get sick all the time, and the prognosis for them is going to be much worse than it otherwise might be. If you have a heart attack, your chances were way better when the roads were clear and people weren’t shooting at you.

Right now, it’s very regional where the infrastructure is being destroyed. The West, where I used to go, is in much better shape than the East because it has not been the focus of Russian attacks. But Kyiv could turn into a very big humanitarian crisis very quickly if there’s no electricity, no water. All sorts of medical conditions could be greatly exacerbated, and some new health crises could arise from water contamination, bombs causing buildings to collapse, and other problems. Whatever the illness is, it’s going to be harder to take care of it.

Questions: Doctors Without Borders announced that it was suspending its operations in Ukraine because of the invasion – missions that included HIV care in Severodonetsk, tuberculosis care in Zhytomyr, and improving health care access in Donetsk in eastern Ukraine, according to the aid group. What do doctors in Ukraine need most acutely now, other than peace?

Dr. Wolansky: Obviously, money is valuable, and military protection, which would prevent additional damage to their infrastructure. One thing that bears mentioning. There’s been a fair amount of coverage of this, but I’ve witnessed it first-hand: The Ukrainian people are fiercely patriotic, and there’s really no way their spirit can be conquered. The USSR invaded Afghanistan, and after years of thinking they were in command, they left because they could no longer take the guerilla warfare and the constant sniper attacks. Ukraine’s population is many times larger than Afghanistan’s; there’s no way they can be subdued. And remember, the Ukrainian people have been free for 30 years – generations of young people have known no other way of life. They are not going to give that up.

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

Nasogastric tubes. Foley catheter kits. Hydrogel anti-burn bandages and transfusion bags. Heparin, atropine, tramadol.

These items are just a few of some two dozen critical medical supplies that physicians in Ukraine desperately need, according to Leo Wolansky, MD, a Ukrainian-American radiologist and president of the Ukrainian Medical Association of North America (UMANA).

Dr. Wolansky founded a teaching program with an organization called Friends of Radiology in Ukraine in 1996 and has been running courses for specialists there ever since. He last visited the country in 2019, before the COVID-19 pandemic, but has remained in contact with his medical colleagues by phone and email. Over the weekend of Feb. 26-27, UMANA held a fundraiser for Ukraine, raising more than $17,000.

This news organization spoke with Dr. Wolansky about the situation for his fellow physicians in the war-torn country.

Question: Where is your family from, and do you have relatives in the country now?

Dr. Wolansky: My family is from two different parts of Ukraine. My mother was from central Ukraine. Her father, Ivan Sharyj, was part of the students’ militia that fought at the famous battle of Kruty in 1918. Four hundred Ukrainian militia fought against 5,000 professional Russian soldiers and were massacred. He later wrote the first eye-witness account. Afterwards, he had the opportunity to flee Ukraine but chose to stay under a pseudonym. Eventually, during Stalin’s purges [1929-1933], the regime found him, arrested him, tortured him, and executed him. My mother was seven when she saw her father arrested, never to return home. My father was from Western Ukraine, which did not have a long history of Russian occupation. His mother’s family was very patriotic; her first cousin, Stepan Vytvytskyi, eventually became the president of Ukraine in exile from 1955-1964.

I have second and more distant cousins in Kyiv. My wife has first cousins in Western Ukraine. They and my doctor colleagues are suffering greatly but are ready to die for their freedom.

Question: The Russian invasion of Ukraine has put tremendous stress on the Ukrainian people, including the country’s medical professionals. How do doctors in these kinds of situations handle casualties they can’t prevent? How do they work around that sense that everything is out of their control?

Dr. Wolansky: A lot of infrastructural things are being disrupted; there are limitations that you wouldn’t normally encounter. Ukraine has been developing a lot of sophisticated medical technology, but it still has room to grow. Under these circumstances, when there are bombs going off and transportation is being disrupted, it creates very new and significant obstacles to surmount. It still has not risen to massive casualties, and we can just pray that it does not, but in times of war, a very different kind of medicine is practiced.

But remember, Ukraine has been at war since 2014, when Russia took Crimea and invaded the Eastern provinces. The doctors there are not unfamiliar with war injuries. At our conferences in Ukraine, I have seen radiological presentations of injuries sustained in war – gunshots, fractures, and amputations – as well as other kinds of traumatic injuries. You’re going for a kind of more emergent treatment: to transfuse, to maintain peoples’ blood pressure, put bandages on, sterilize and sanitize wounds to prevent infections. I imagine there will be many field hospitals set up between now and the next few weeks to deal with the acute injuries.

Question: Ukraine has struggled with high rates of HIV and multidrug-resistant tuberculosis, as well as a lack of resources for treating patients with mental illness. Meanwhile, the country has had more that 5 million cases of COVID-19 and an estimated 112,000 deaths from the disease. Are you concerned about an exacerbation of infection rates, including of COVID, particularly among refugees and those who become homeless?

Dr. Wolansky: Because COVID ran pretty rampant in Ukraine, I think that – at a high cost – there is a level of natural immunity in the population. And the weather is going to be getting warmer soon, and respiratory viruses are cyclic in nature, so I don’t know if that’s going to be a big complicating factor. However, people get sick all the time, and the prognosis for them is going to be much worse than it otherwise might be. If you have a heart attack, your chances were way better when the roads were clear and people weren’t shooting at you.

Right now, it’s very regional where the infrastructure is being destroyed. The West, where I used to go, is in much better shape than the East because it has not been the focus of Russian attacks. But Kyiv could turn into a very big humanitarian crisis very quickly if there’s no electricity, no water. All sorts of medical conditions could be greatly exacerbated, and some new health crises could arise from water contamination, bombs causing buildings to collapse, and other problems. Whatever the illness is, it’s going to be harder to take care of it.

Questions: Doctors Without Borders announced that it was suspending its operations in Ukraine because of the invasion – missions that included HIV care in Severodonetsk, tuberculosis care in Zhytomyr, and improving health care access in Donetsk in eastern Ukraine, according to the aid group. What do doctors in Ukraine need most acutely now, other than peace?

Dr. Wolansky: Obviously, money is valuable, and military protection, which would prevent additional damage to their infrastructure. One thing that bears mentioning. There’s been a fair amount of coverage of this, but I’ve witnessed it first-hand: The Ukrainian people are fiercely patriotic, and there’s really no way their spirit can be conquered. The USSR invaded Afghanistan, and after years of thinking they were in command, they left because they could no longer take the guerilla warfare and the constant sniper attacks. Ukraine’s population is many times larger than Afghanistan’s; there’s no way they can be subdued. And remember, the Ukrainian people have been free for 30 years – generations of young people have known no other way of life. They are not going to give that up.

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

Nasogastric tubes. Foley catheter kits. Hydrogel anti-burn bandages and transfusion bags. Heparin, atropine, tramadol.

These items are just a few of some two dozen critical medical supplies that physicians in Ukraine desperately need, according to Leo Wolansky, MD, a Ukrainian-American radiologist and president of the Ukrainian Medical Association of North America (UMANA).

Dr. Wolansky founded a teaching program with an organization called Friends of Radiology in Ukraine in 1996 and has been running courses for specialists there ever since. He last visited the country in 2019, before the COVID-19 pandemic, but has remained in contact with his medical colleagues by phone and email. Over the weekend of Feb. 26-27, UMANA held a fundraiser for Ukraine, raising more than $17,000.

This news organization spoke with Dr. Wolansky about the situation for his fellow physicians in the war-torn country.

Question: Where is your family from, and do you have relatives in the country now?

Dr. Wolansky: My family is from two different parts of Ukraine. My mother was from central Ukraine. Her father, Ivan Sharyj, was part of the students’ militia that fought at the famous battle of Kruty in 1918. Four hundred Ukrainian militia fought against 5,000 professional Russian soldiers and were massacred. He later wrote the first eye-witness account. Afterwards, he had the opportunity to flee Ukraine but chose to stay under a pseudonym. Eventually, during Stalin’s purges [1929-1933], the regime found him, arrested him, tortured him, and executed him. My mother was seven when she saw her father arrested, never to return home. My father was from Western Ukraine, which did not have a long history of Russian occupation. His mother’s family was very patriotic; her first cousin, Stepan Vytvytskyi, eventually became the president of Ukraine in exile from 1955-1964.

I have second and more distant cousins in Kyiv. My wife has first cousins in Western Ukraine. They and my doctor colleagues are suffering greatly but are ready to die for their freedom.

Question: The Russian invasion of Ukraine has put tremendous stress on the Ukrainian people, including the country’s medical professionals. How do doctors in these kinds of situations handle casualties they can’t prevent? How do they work around that sense that everything is out of their control?

Dr. Wolansky: A lot of infrastructural things are being disrupted; there are limitations that you wouldn’t normally encounter. Ukraine has been developing a lot of sophisticated medical technology, but it still has room to grow. Under these circumstances, when there are bombs going off and transportation is being disrupted, it creates very new and significant obstacles to surmount. It still has not risen to massive casualties, and we can just pray that it does not, but in times of war, a very different kind of medicine is practiced.

But remember, Ukraine has been at war since 2014, when Russia took Crimea and invaded the Eastern provinces. The doctors there are not unfamiliar with war injuries. At our conferences in Ukraine, I have seen radiological presentations of injuries sustained in war – gunshots, fractures, and amputations – as well as other kinds of traumatic injuries. You’re going for a kind of more emergent treatment: to transfuse, to maintain peoples’ blood pressure, put bandages on, sterilize and sanitize wounds to prevent infections. I imagine there will be many field hospitals set up between now and the next few weeks to deal with the acute injuries.

Question: Ukraine has struggled with high rates of HIV and multidrug-resistant tuberculosis, as well as a lack of resources for treating patients with mental illness. Meanwhile, the country has had more that 5 million cases of COVID-19 and an estimated 112,000 deaths from the disease. Are you concerned about an exacerbation of infection rates, including of COVID, particularly among refugees and those who become homeless?

Dr. Wolansky: Because COVID ran pretty rampant in Ukraine, I think that – at a high cost – there is a level of natural immunity in the population. And the weather is going to be getting warmer soon, and respiratory viruses are cyclic in nature, so I don’t know if that’s going to be a big complicating factor. However, people get sick all the time, and the prognosis for them is going to be much worse than it otherwise might be. If you have a heart attack, your chances were way better when the roads were clear and people weren’t shooting at you.

Right now, it’s very regional where the infrastructure is being destroyed. The West, where I used to go, is in much better shape than the East because it has not been the focus of Russian attacks. But Kyiv could turn into a very big humanitarian crisis very quickly if there’s no electricity, no water. All sorts of medical conditions could be greatly exacerbated, and some new health crises could arise from water contamination, bombs causing buildings to collapse, and other problems. Whatever the illness is, it’s going to be harder to take care of it.

Questions: Doctors Without Borders announced that it was suspending its operations in Ukraine because of the invasion – missions that included HIV care in Severodonetsk, tuberculosis care in Zhytomyr, and improving health care access in Donetsk in eastern Ukraine, according to the aid group. What do doctors in Ukraine need most acutely now, other than peace?

Dr. Wolansky: Obviously, money is valuable, and military protection, which would prevent additional damage to their infrastructure. One thing that bears mentioning. There’s been a fair amount of coverage of this, but I’ve witnessed it first-hand: The Ukrainian people are fiercely patriotic, and there’s really no way their spirit can be conquered. The USSR invaded Afghanistan, and after years of thinking they were in command, they left because they could no longer take the guerilla warfare and the constant sniper attacks. Ukraine’s population is many times larger than Afghanistan’s; there’s no way they can be subdued. And remember, the Ukrainian people have been free for 30 years – generations of young people have known no other way of life. They are not going to give that up.

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

More than half of abortions in the United States are now done with pills rather than surgery, according to a report from the Guttmacher Institute, a research group that supports abortion rights.

A survey of abortion providers showed that 54% of all U.S. abortions were done with medication in 2020, marking the first time the proportion of medication abortions topped 50%, Guttmacher said.

In 2017, the last time such a survey was done, 39% of abortions were performed by medication, Guttmacher said. The organization said 24% of abortions were done with medication in 2011 and 6% in 2001, the year after the FDA approved the pills.

The 54% estimate is based on early findings, Guttmacher said in a news release. It said that “final estimates will be released in late 2022 and the proportion for medication abortion use is not expected to fall below 50%.”

Rachel Jones, PhD, a Guttmacher researcher, said the higher use of abortion pills may be linked to increases in telemedicine because of the COVID-19 pandemic and the FDA’s decision last year to allow the mailing of abortion pills to patients, the Associated Press reported. Those changes mean women can now consult with a doctor online, receive the pills by mail, and complete the abortion at home.

Abortion pills are recommended for the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, though research shows they can be safe in some cases after 10 weeks, Guttmacher said. Patients take the pill mifepristone, which blocks a hormone needed for pregnancy to continue, and a few days later take the pill misoprostol, which causes cramping that empties the womb.

“The introduction and availability of medication abortion has proven to be a game changer in expanding abortion care in the United States, and it will likely be an even more important option for people to obtain an abortion as many states continue to pass legislation to bar or restrict abortion access,” Guttmacher said in the news release.

Arizona, Arkansas, and Texas have banned the mailing of abortion pills. Similar bans were approved in Montana, Oklahoma, and South Dakota but were blocked in the courts, Guttmacher said.

Sixteen state legislatures have proposed bans or restrictions on medication-induced abortion this year, while 32 states require this type of abortion to be prescribed by doctors.

In Texas, orders for abortion pills increased sharply after the state legislature approved a highly restrictive abortion law, Politico reported, citing a study in The Journal of the American Medical Association.

Orders went up 1,180% in the first week after the Texas law took effect in September, researchers said. Orders dipped somewhat in later weeks but remained 175% higher than before the Texas law took effect.

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

More than half of abortions in the United States are now done with pills rather than surgery, according to a report from the Guttmacher Institute, a research group that supports abortion rights.

A survey of abortion providers showed that 54% of all U.S. abortions were done with medication in 2020, marking the first time the proportion of medication abortions topped 50%, Guttmacher said.

In 2017, the last time such a survey was done, 39% of abortions were performed by medication, Guttmacher said. The organization said 24% of abortions were done with medication in 2011 and 6% in 2001, the year after the FDA approved the pills.

The 54% estimate is based on early findings, Guttmacher said in a news release. It said that “final estimates will be released in late 2022 and the proportion for medication abortion use is not expected to fall below 50%.”

Rachel Jones, PhD, a Guttmacher researcher, said the higher use of abortion pills may be linked to increases in telemedicine because of the COVID-19 pandemic and the FDA’s decision last year to allow the mailing of abortion pills to patients, the Associated Press reported. Those changes mean women can now consult with a doctor online, receive the pills by mail, and complete the abortion at home.

Abortion pills are recommended for the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, though research shows they can be safe in some cases after 10 weeks, Guttmacher said. Patients take the pill mifepristone, which blocks a hormone needed for pregnancy to continue, and a few days later take the pill misoprostol, which causes cramping that empties the womb.

“The introduction and availability of medication abortion has proven to be a game changer in expanding abortion care in the United States, and it will likely be an even more important option for people to obtain an abortion as many states continue to pass legislation to bar or restrict abortion access,” Guttmacher said in the news release.

Arizona, Arkansas, and Texas have banned the mailing of abortion pills. Similar bans were approved in Montana, Oklahoma, and South Dakota but were blocked in the courts, Guttmacher said.

Sixteen state legislatures have proposed bans or restrictions on medication-induced abortion this year, while 32 states require this type of abortion to be prescribed by doctors.

In Texas, orders for abortion pills increased sharply after the state legislature approved a highly restrictive abortion law, Politico reported, citing a study in The Journal of the American Medical Association.

Orders went up 1,180% in the first week after the Texas law took effect in September, researchers said. Orders dipped somewhat in later weeks but remained 175% higher than before the Texas law took effect.

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

More than half of abortions in the United States are now done with pills rather than surgery, according to a report from the Guttmacher Institute, a research group that supports abortion rights.

A survey of abortion providers showed that 54% of all U.S. abortions were done with medication in 2020, marking the first time the proportion of medication abortions topped 50%, Guttmacher said.

In 2017, the last time such a survey was done, 39% of abortions were performed by medication, Guttmacher said. The organization said 24% of abortions were done with medication in 2011 and 6% in 2001, the year after the FDA approved the pills.

The 54% estimate is based on early findings, Guttmacher said in a news release. It said that “final estimates will be released in late 2022 and the proportion for medication abortion use is not expected to fall below 50%.”

Rachel Jones, PhD, a Guttmacher researcher, said the higher use of abortion pills may be linked to increases in telemedicine because of the COVID-19 pandemic and the FDA’s decision last year to allow the mailing of abortion pills to patients, the Associated Press reported. Those changes mean women can now consult with a doctor online, receive the pills by mail, and complete the abortion at home.

Abortion pills are recommended for the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, though research shows they can be safe in some cases after 10 weeks, Guttmacher said. Patients take the pill mifepristone, which blocks a hormone needed for pregnancy to continue, and a few days later take the pill misoprostol, which causes cramping that empties the womb.

“The introduction and availability of medication abortion has proven to be a game changer in expanding abortion care in the United States, and it will likely be an even more important option for people to obtain an abortion as many states continue to pass legislation to bar or restrict abortion access,” Guttmacher said in the news release.

Arizona, Arkansas, and Texas have banned the mailing of abortion pills. Similar bans were approved in Montana, Oklahoma, and South Dakota but were blocked in the courts, Guttmacher said.

Sixteen state legislatures have proposed bans or restrictions on medication-induced abortion this year, while 32 states require this type of abortion to be prescribed by doctors.

In Texas, orders for abortion pills increased sharply after the state legislature approved a highly restrictive abortion law, Politico reported, citing a study in The Journal of the American Medical Association.

Orders went up 1,180% in the first week after the Texas law took effect in September, researchers said. Orders dipped somewhat in later weeks but remained 175% higher than before the Texas law took effect.

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

Have you experienced malpractice?

No, I’m not asking whether you have experienced litigation. I’m asking whether you, as a physician, have actually experienced substandard care from a colleague. I have heard many such experiences over the years, and mistreatment doesn’t seem to be getting any less frequent.

It seems to me that physicians may be especially prone to receiving substandard care. If true, there could be several explanations. The first is that, unlike the Pope, who has a dedicated confessor trained to minister to his spiritual needs, no one formally trains physicians to treat physicians. As a result, most of us feel slightly uneasy at treating other physicians. We naturally wish to keep our colleagues well, but at the same time realize that our clinical skills are being very closely scrutinized. What if they are found to be wanting? This discomfiture can make a physician treating a physician overly compulsive, or worse, overtly dismissive.

Second, we physicians are famously poor patients. We pretend we don’t need the advice we give others, to monitor our health and promptly seek care when something feels amiss. And, for the period during which we delay a medical encounter, we often attempt to diagnose and treat ourselves.

Sometimes we are successful, which reinforces this approach. Other times, we fail at being our own caregiver and present to someone else either too late, or with avoidable complications. In the former instance, we congratulate ourselves and learn nothing from the experience. In the latter, we may heap shame upon ourselves for our folly, and we may learn; but it could be a lethal lesson. In the worst scenario, our colleague gives in to frustration (or angst), and heaps even more shame onto their late-presenting physician patient.

Third, when we do submit to being a patient, we often demand VIP treatment. This is probably in response to our anxiety that some of the worst things we have seen happen to patients might happen to us if we are not vigilant to ensure we receive a higher level of care. But of course, such hypervigilance can lead to excessive care and testing, with all the attendant hazards, or alternatively to dilution of care if our caregivers decide we are just too much trouble.

Fourth, as a fifth-generation physician myself, I am convinced that physicians and physician family members are either prone to unusual manifestations of common diseases or unusual diseases, or that rare disease entities and complications are actually more common than literature suggests, and they simply aren’t pursued or diagnosed in nonphysician families.

No matter how we may have arrived in a position to need medical care, how often is such care substandard? And how do we respond when we suspect, or know, this to be the case? Are physicians more, or less, likely to take legal action in the face of it?

I certainly don’t know any statistics. Physicians are in an excellent position to take such action, because judges and juries will likely believe that a doctor can recognize negligence when we fall victim to it. But we may also be reluctant to publicly admit the way (or ways) in which we may have contributed to substandard care or outcome.

Based on decades of working with physician clients who have been sued, and having been sued myself (thus witnessing and also experiencing the effects of litigation), I am probably more reluctant than normal patients or physicians to consider taking legal action. This, despite the fact that I am also a lawyer and (through organized medicine) know many colleagues in all specialties who might serve as expert witnesses.

I have experienced serial substandard care, which has left me highly conflicted about the efficacy of my chosen profession. As a resident, I had my first odd pain condition and consulted an “elder statesperson” from my institution, whom I assumed to be a “doctor’s doctor” because he was a superb teacher (wrong!)

He completely missed the diagnosis and further belittled (indeed, libeled) me in the medical record. (Some years later, I learned that, during that period, he was increasingly demented and tended to view all female patients as having “wandering uterus” equivalents.) Fortunately, I found a better diagnostician, or at least one more willing to lend credence to my complaints, who successfully removed the first of several “zebra” lesions I have experienced.

As a young faculty member, I had an odd presentation of a recurring gynecologic condition, which was treated surgically, successfully, except that my fertility was cut in half – a possibility about which I had not been informed when giving operative consent. Would I have sued this fellow faculty member for that? Never, because she invariably treated me with respect as a colleague.

Later in my career after leaving academia, the same condition recurred in a new location. My old-school gynecologist desired to do an extensive procedure, to which I demurred unless specific pathology was found intraoperatively. Affronted, he subjected me to laparoscopy, did nothing but look, and then left the hospital leaving me and the PACU nurse to try to decipher his instructions (which said, basically, “I didn’t find anything; don’t bother me again.”). Several years of pain later, a younger gynecologist performed the correct procedure to address my problem, which has never recurred. Would I have sued him? No, because I believe he had a disability.

At age 59, I developed a new mole. My beloved general practitioner, in the waning years of his practice, forgot to consult a colleague to remove it for several months. When I forced the issue, the mole was removed and turned out to be a rare pediatric condition considered a precursor to melanoma. The same general practitioner had told me I needn’t worry about my “mild hypercalcemia.”

Ten years later I diagnosed my own parathyroid adenoma, in the interim losing 10% of my bone density. Would I have sued him? No, for he always showed he cared. (Though maybe, if I had fractured my spine or hip.)

If you have been the victim of physician malpractice, how did you respond?

Do we serve our profession well by how we handle substandard care – upon ourselves (or our loved ones)?

Dr. Andrew is a former assistant professor in the department of emergency medicine, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and founder and principal of MDMentor, Victoria, B.C.

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

Have you experienced malpractice?

No, I’m not asking whether you have experienced litigation. I’m asking whether you, as a physician, have actually experienced substandard care from a colleague. I have heard many such experiences over the years, and mistreatment doesn’t seem to be getting any less frequent.

It seems to me that physicians may be especially prone to receiving substandard care. If true, there could be several explanations. The first is that, unlike the Pope, who has a dedicated confessor trained to minister to his spiritual needs, no one formally trains physicians to treat physicians. As a result, most of us feel slightly uneasy at treating other physicians. We naturally wish to keep our colleagues well, but at the same time realize that our clinical skills are being very closely scrutinized. What if they are found to be wanting? This discomfiture can make a physician treating a physician overly compulsive, or worse, overtly dismissive.

Second, we physicians are famously poor patients. We pretend we don’t need the advice we give others, to monitor our health and promptly seek care when something feels amiss. And, for the period during which we delay a medical encounter, we often attempt to diagnose and treat ourselves.

Sometimes we are successful, which reinforces this approach. Other times, we fail at being our own caregiver and present to someone else either too late, or with avoidable complications. In the former instance, we congratulate ourselves and learn nothing from the experience. In the latter, we may heap shame upon ourselves for our folly, and we may learn; but it could be a lethal lesson. In the worst scenario, our colleague gives in to frustration (or angst), and heaps even more shame onto their late-presenting physician patient.

Third, when we do submit to being a patient, we often demand VIP treatment. This is probably in response to our anxiety that some of the worst things we have seen happen to patients might happen to us if we are not vigilant to ensure we receive a higher level of care. But of course, such hypervigilance can lead to excessive care and testing, with all the attendant hazards, or alternatively to dilution of care if our caregivers decide we are just too much trouble.

Fourth, as a fifth-generation physician myself, I am convinced that physicians and physician family members are either prone to unusual manifestations of common diseases or unusual diseases, or that rare disease entities and complications are actually more common than literature suggests, and they simply aren’t pursued or diagnosed in nonphysician families.

No matter how we may have arrived in a position to need medical care, how often is such care substandard? And how do we respond when we suspect, or know, this to be the case? Are physicians more, or less, likely to take legal action in the face of it?

I certainly don’t know any statistics. Physicians are in an excellent position to take such action, because judges and juries will likely believe that a doctor can recognize negligence when we fall victim to it. But we may also be reluctant to publicly admit the way (or ways) in which we may have contributed to substandard care or outcome.

Based on decades of working with physician clients who have been sued, and having been sued myself (thus witnessing and also experiencing the effects of litigation), I am probably more reluctant than normal patients or physicians to consider taking legal action. This, despite the fact that I am also a lawyer and (through organized medicine) know many colleagues in all specialties who might serve as expert witnesses.

I have experienced serial substandard care, which has left me highly conflicted about the efficacy of my chosen profession. As a resident, I had my first odd pain condition and consulted an “elder statesperson” from my institution, whom I assumed to be a “doctor’s doctor” because he was a superb teacher (wrong!)

He completely missed the diagnosis and further belittled (indeed, libeled) me in the medical record. (Some years later, I learned that, during that period, he was increasingly demented and tended to view all female patients as having “wandering uterus” equivalents.) Fortunately, I found a better diagnostician, or at least one more willing to lend credence to my complaints, who successfully removed the first of several “zebra” lesions I have experienced.

As a young faculty member, I had an odd presentation of a recurring gynecologic condition, which was treated surgically, successfully, except that my fertility was cut in half – a possibility about which I had not been informed when giving operative consent. Would I have sued this fellow faculty member for that? Never, because she invariably treated me with respect as a colleague.

Later in my career after leaving academia, the same condition recurred in a new location. My old-school gynecologist desired to do an extensive procedure, to which I demurred unless specific pathology was found intraoperatively. Affronted, he subjected me to laparoscopy, did nothing but look, and then left the hospital leaving me and the PACU nurse to try to decipher his instructions (which said, basically, “I didn’t find anything; don’t bother me again.”). Several years of pain later, a younger gynecologist performed the correct procedure to address my problem, which has never recurred. Would I have sued him? No, because I believe he had a disability.

At age 59, I developed a new mole. My beloved general practitioner, in the waning years of his practice, forgot to consult a colleague to remove it for several months. When I forced the issue, the mole was removed and turned out to be a rare pediatric condition considered a precursor to melanoma. The same general practitioner had told me I needn’t worry about my “mild hypercalcemia.”

Ten years later I diagnosed my own parathyroid adenoma, in the interim losing 10% of my bone density. Would I have sued him? No, for he always showed he cared. (Though maybe, if I had fractured my spine or hip.)

If you have been the victim of physician malpractice, how did you respond?

Do we serve our profession well by how we handle substandard care – upon ourselves (or our loved ones)?

Dr. Andrew is a former assistant professor in the department of emergency medicine, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and founder and principal of MDMentor, Victoria, B.C.

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

Have you experienced malpractice?

No, I’m not asking whether you have experienced litigation. I’m asking whether you, as a physician, have actually experienced substandard care from a colleague. I have heard many such experiences over the years, and mistreatment doesn’t seem to be getting any less frequent.

It seems to me that physicians may be especially prone to receiving substandard care. If true, there could be several explanations. The first is that, unlike the Pope, who has a dedicated confessor trained to minister to his spiritual needs, no one formally trains physicians to treat physicians. As a result, most of us feel slightly uneasy at treating other physicians. We naturally wish to keep our colleagues well, but at the same time realize that our clinical skills are being very closely scrutinized. What if they are found to be wanting? This discomfiture can make a physician treating a physician overly compulsive, or worse, overtly dismissive.

Second, we physicians are famously poor patients. We pretend we don’t need the advice we give others, to monitor our health and promptly seek care when something feels amiss. And, for the period during which we delay a medical encounter, we often attempt to diagnose and treat ourselves.

Sometimes we are successful, which reinforces this approach. Other times, we fail at being our own caregiver and present to someone else either too late, or with avoidable complications. In the former instance, we congratulate ourselves and learn nothing from the experience. In the latter, we may heap shame upon ourselves for our folly, and we may learn; but it could be a lethal lesson. In the worst scenario, our colleague gives in to frustration (or angst), and heaps even more shame onto their late-presenting physician patient.

Third, when we do submit to being a patient, we often demand VIP treatment. This is probably in response to our anxiety that some of the worst things we have seen happen to patients might happen to us if we are not vigilant to ensure we receive a higher level of care. But of course, such hypervigilance can lead to excessive care and testing, with all the attendant hazards, or alternatively to dilution of care if our caregivers decide we are just too much trouble.

Fourth, as a fifth-generation physician myself, I am convinced that physicians and physician family members are either prone to unusual manifestations of common diseases or unusual diseases, or that rare disease entities and complications are actually more common than literature suggests, and they simply aren’t pursued or diagnosed in nonphysician families.

No matter how we may have arrived in a position to need medical care, how often is such care substandard? And how do we respond when we suspect, or know, this to be the case? Are physicians more, or less, likely to take legal action in the face of it?

I certainly don’t know any statistics. Physicians are in an excellent position to take such action, because judges and juries will likely believe that a doctor can recognize negligence when we fall victim to it. But we may also be reluctant to publicly admit the way (or ways) in which we may have contributed to substandard care or outcome.

Based on decades of working with physician clients who have been sued, and having been sued myself (thus witnessing and also experiencing the effects of litigation), I am probably more reluctant than normal patients or physicians to consider taking legal action. This, despite the fact that I am also a lawyer and (through organized medicine) know many colleagues in all specialties who might serve as expert witnesses.

I have experienced serial substandard care, which has left me highly conflicted about the efficacy of my chosen profession. As a resident, I had my first odd pain condition and consulted an “elder statesperson” from my institution, whom I assumed to be a “doctor’s doctor” because he was a superb teacher (wrong!)

He completely missed the diagnosis and further belittled (indeed, libeled) me in the medical record. (Some years later, I learned that, during that period, he was increasingly demented and tended to view all female patients as having “wandering uterus” equivalents.) Fortunately, I found a better diagnostician, or at least one more willing to lend credence to my complaints, who successfully removed the first of several “zebra” lesions I have experienced.

As a young faculty member, I had an odd presentation of a recurring gynecologic condition, which was treated surgically, successfully, except that my fertility was cut in half – a possibility about which I had not been informed when giving operative consent. Would I have sued this fellow faculty member for that? Never, because she invariably treated me with respect as a colleague.

Later in my career after leaving academia, the same condition recurred in a new location. My old-school gynecologist desired to do an extensive procedure, to which I demurred unless specific pathology was found intraoperatively. Affronted, he subjected me to laparoscopy, did nothing but look, and then left the hospital leaving me and the PACU nurse to try to decipher his instructions (which said, basically, “I didn’t find anything; don’t bother me again.”). Several years of pain later, a younger gynecologist performed the correct procedure to address my problem, which has never recurred. Would I have sued him? No, because I believe he had a disability.

At age 59, I developed a new mole. My beloved general practitioner, in the waning years of his practice, forgot to consult a colleague to remove it for several months. When I forced the issue, the mole was removed and turned out to be a rare pediatric condition considered a precursor to melanoma. The same general practitioner had told me I needn’t worry about my “mild hypercalcemia.”

Ten years later I diagnosed my own parathyroid adenoma, in the interim losing 10% of my bone density. Would I have sued him? No, for he always showed he cared. (Though maybe, if I had fractured my spine or hip.)

If you have been the victim of physician malpractice, how did you respond?

Do we serve our profession well by how we handle substandard care – upon ourselves (or our loved ones)?

Dr. Andrew is a former assistant professor in the department of emergency medicine, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and founder and principal of MDMentor, Victoria, B.C.

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