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A longing for belonging
As I watched my grandson and his team warm up for their Saturday morning lacrosse game, a long parade of mostly purple-shirted adults and children of all ages began to weave its way around the periphery of the athletic field complex. A quick reading of the hand-lettered and machine-printed shirts made it clear that I was watching a charity walk for cystic fibrosis. There must have been several hundred walkers strolling by, laughing and chatting with one another. It lent a festive atmosphere to the park. I suspect that for most of the participants this was not their first fundraising event for cystic fibrosis.
The motley mix of marchers probably included several handfuls of parents of children with cystic fibrosis. I wonder how many of those parents realized how fortunate they were. Cystic fibrosis isn’t a great diagnosis. But at least it is a diagnosis, and with the diagnosis comes a community.
Reading a front-page article on DNA testing in a recent Wall Street Journal issue had primed me to reconsider how even an unfortunate diagnosis can be extremely valuable for a family (“The Unfulfilled Promise of DNA Testing,” by Amy Dockser Marcus, May 18, 2019).The focus of the article was on the confusion and disappointment that are the predictable consequences of our current inability to accurately correlate genetic code “mistakes” with phenotypic abnormalities. Of course there have been a few successes, but we aren’t even close to the promise that many have predicted in the wake of sequencing the human genome. The family featured in the article has a ridden roller coaster ride through two failed attributions of genetic syndromes that appeared to provide their now 8-year-old daughter with a diagnosis for her epilepsy and developmental delay.
In each case, the mother had searched out other families with children who shared the same genetic code errors. She formed support groups and created foundations to promote research for these rare disorders only to learn that her daughter didn’t really fit into the phenotype exhibited by the other children. As the article indicates this mother had “found a genetic home, only to feel that she no longer belonged.” She had made “intense friendships” and for “2 years, the community was her main emotional support.” Since the second diagnosis has evaporated, she has struggled with whether to remain with that community, having already left one behind. She has been encouraged to stay involved by another mother whose son does have the diagnosis. Understandably, she is still seeking the correct diagnosis, and I suspect will form or join a new community when she finds it.
We all want to belong to a community. And with that ticket comes the opportunity to share the frustrations and difficulties unique to children with that diagnosis, and the comfort that there are other people who look, behave, and feel the way we do. We hear repeatedly about the value of diversity and how wonderful it is to be all inclusive. And certainly we should continue to be as accepting as we can of people who are different. But the truth is that we will always fall short because we seem to be hardwired to notice what is different. And the power of the longing to belong is often stronger than our will to be inclusive.
The revolution that resulted in the disappearance of the label “mental retardation” and the widespread adoption of the diagnosis of autism are examples of how a community can form around a diagnosis. But not every child who is labeled as autistic will actually fit the diagnosis. Yet even a less-than-perfect attribution can provide a place where a family and a patient can feel that they belong.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
As I watched my grandson and his team warm up for their Saturday morning lacrosse game, a long parade of mostly purple-shirted adults and children of all ages began to weave its way around the periphery of the athletic field complex. A quick reading of the hand-lettered and machine-printed shirts made it clear that I was watching a charity walk for cystic fibrosis. There must have been several hundred walkers strolling by, laughing and chatting with one another. It lent a festive atmosphere to the park. I suspect that for most of the participants this was not their first fundraising event for cystic fibrosis.
The motley mix of marchers probably included several handfuls of parents of children with cystic fibrosis. I wonder how many of those parents realized how fortunate they were. Cystic fibrosis isn’t a great diagnosis. But at least it is a diagnosis, and with the diagnosis comes a community.
Reading a front-page article on DNA testing in a recent Wall Street Journal issue had primed me to reconsider how even an unfortunate diagnosis can be extremely valuable for a family (“The Unfulfilled Promise of DNA Testing,” by Amy Dockser Marcus, May 18, 2019).The focus of the article was on the confusion and disappointment that are the predictable consequences of our current inability to accurately correlate genetic code “mistakes” with phenotypic abnormalities. Of course there have been a few successes, but we aren’t even close to the promise that many have predicted in the wake of sequencing the human genome. The family featured in the article has a ridden roller coaster ride through two failed attributions of genetic syndromes that appeared to provide their now 8-year-old daughter with a diagnosis for her epilepsy and developmental delay.
In each case, the mother had searched out other families with children who shared the same genetic code errors. She formed support groups and created foundations to promote research for these rare disorders only to learn that her daughter didn’t really fit into the phenotype exhibited by the other children. As the article indicates this mother had “found a genetic home, only to feel that she no longer belonged.” She had made “intense friendships” and for “2 years, the community was her main emotional support.” Since the second diagnosis has evaporated, she has struggled with whether to remain with that community, having already left one behind. She has been encouraged to stay involved by another mother whose son does have the diagnosis. Understandably, she is still seeking the correct diagnosis, and I suspect will form or join a new community when she finds it.
We all want to belong to a community. And with that ticket comes the opportunity to share the frustrations and difficulties unique to children with that diagnosis, and the comfort that there are other people who look, behave, and feel the way we do. We hear repeatedly about the value of diversity and how wonderful it is to be all inclusive. And certainly we should continue to be as accepting as we can of people who are different. But the truth is that we will always fall short because we seem to be hardwired to notice what is different. And the power of the longing to belong is often stronger than our will to be inclusive.
The revolution that resulted in the disappearance of the label “mental retardation” and the widespread adoption of the diagnosis of autism are examples of how a community can form around a diagnosis. But not every child who is labeled as autistic will actually fit the diagnosis. Yet even a less-than-perfect attribution can provide a place where a family and a patient can feel that they belong.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
As I watched my grandson and his team warm up for their Saturday morning lacrosse game, a long parade of mostly purple-shirted adults and children of all ages began to weave its way around the periphery of the athletic field complex. A quick reading of the hand-lettered and machine-printed shirts made it clear that I was watching a charity walk for cystic fibrosis. There must have been several hundred walkers strolling by, laughing and chatting with one another. It lent a festive atmosphere to the park. I suspect that for most of the participants this was not their first fundraising event for cystic fibrosis.
The motley mix of marchers probably included several handfuls of parents of children with cystic fibrosis. I wonder how many of those parents realized how fortunate they were. Cystic fibrosis isn’t a great diagnosis. But at least it is a diagnosis, and with the diagnosis comes a community.
Reading a front-page article on DNA testing in a recent Wall Street Journal issue had primed me to reconsider how even an unfortunate diagnosis can be extremely valuable for a family (“The Unfulfilled Promise of DNA Testing,” by Amy Dockser Marcus, May 18, 2019).The focus of the article was on the confusion and disappointment that are the predictable consequences of our current inability to accurately correlate genetic code “mistakes” with phenotypic abnormalities. Of course there have been a few successes, but we aren’t even close to the promise that many have predicted in the wake of sequencing the human genome. The family featured in the article has a ridden roller coaster ride through two failed attributions of genetic syndromes that appeared to provide their now 8-year-old daughter with a diagnosis for her epilepsy and developmental delay.
In each case, the mother had searched out other families with children who shared the same genetic code errors. She formed support groups and created foundations to promote research for these rare disorders only to learn that her daughter didn’t really fit into the phenotype exhibited by the other children. As the article indicates this mother had “found a genetic home, only to feel that she no longer belonged.” She had made “intense friendships” and for “2 years, the community was her main emotional support.” Since the second diagnosis has evaporated, she has struggled with whether to remain with that community, having already left one behind. She has been encouraged to stay involved by another mother whose son does have the diagnosis. Understandably, she is still seeking the correct diagnosis, and I suspect will form or join a new community when she finds it.
We all want to belong to a community. And with that ticket comes the opportunity to share the frustrations and difficulties unique to children with that diagnosis, and the comfort that there are other people who look, behave, and feel the way we do. We hear repeatedly about the value of diversity and how wonderful it is to be all inclusive. And certainly we should continue to be as accepting as we can of people who are different. But the truth is that we will always fall short because we seem to be hardwired to notice what is different. And the power of the longing to belong is often stronger than our will to be inclusive.
The revolution that resulted in the disappearance of the label “mental retardation” and the widespread adoption of the diagnosis of autism are examples of how a community can form around a diagnosis. But not every child who is labeled as autistic will actually fit the diagnosis. Yet even a less-than-perfect attribution can provide a place where a family and a patient can feel that they belong.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
Fear
Fear annoys. Fear mystifies. Fear masquerades. Fear can be trivial or terrifying. But fear is always there.
Boris has a spot on his nose. I call with test results.
“Boris, I got back your biopsy report. As expected, it did show a basal cell skin cancer.”
“Skin cancer?”
“Yes. As we discussed, basal cells are not serious and don’t spread, but you have to get it taken off.”
“Will I have to stay in the hospital?”
“No, it’s done under local anesthesia. You get it done and go home.”
“Is it urgent?”
“It can wait a few weeks. Just call for an appointment.”
“Will it be done in the hospital itself, or in another building?”
One question succeeds another. Each answer prompts another question. Sometimes the queries circle back and threaten to start the interrogation over. Children use the same tactic before you freeze their wart. “Wait! Will it hurt?” “Wait, wait, how many times will you freeze it?” “Wait, wait, how many seconds will it take?”
It takes patience, but Boris’s tone finally softens, and the questions stop. The queries are less requests for information than stalling tactics. Maybe if I keep asking, the problem will go away.
Stella is more perplexing than Boris, not to mention more challenging.
“I had a melanoma on my forehead, Doctor. But it’s all taken care of.”
“Taken care of?”
“Yes. The dermatologist in Clarksville did a biopsy, which showed melanoma, but I had a healer take care of it.”
“A healer?”
“Yes. I tell the healer my problem. She doesn’t even have to be there. She can heal from anywhere. She took care of it.”
“With due respect, I don’t think she did.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s still there on your forehead. I can see it.”
Stella and I negotiate. I will perform another biopsy, but only after she promises me that if the biopsy confirms the presence of melanoma, she’ll see a surgeon.
The biopsy shows melanoma in situ. Two weeks later the surgeon’s office calls to say that Stella has canceled her appointment.
I call Stella.
“I decided to cancel my appointment,” she says. “I asked the surgeon to perform another biopsy, but she refused. I found another dermatologist who will do it.”
“Just curious,” I say. “If two previous biopsies didn’t convince you that you have melanoma, why would a third?”
“Because I thought the healer had finished taking care of it, but she hadn’t,” Stella says. “Now she has.”
Stella pauses. “I know I’m on shaky ground here,” she says. “Maybe I don’t have a leg to stand on. But I just need to be sure.”
“You know,” I say, “if you don’t remove a melanoma, it can spread and cause death.”
Stella does know this. But she still isn’t sure it hasn’t already been taken care of. She has to be sure. Wait, wait ...
“You understand,” I say, “that I can’t be your doctor anymore, since you aren’t willing to follow my advice.”
“Of course,” says Stella, “that goes without saying.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” I say. “If I can’t be responsible for your health, I have to make sure you know that, that you know why, and that you pick someone else to take care of you. It seems you have chosen someone.”
We all see many Borises. There are plenty of Stellas, too, though we don’t often see them. People who think as she does, who put their trust in strange treatments and sundry healers, don’t often show up in our offices. How they can think the way they do passes my understanding. But then much that I read or hear in the news about what people think passes my understanding. They are not my responsibility, though; Stella is, or at least she was.
Stella’s faith in her remote healer seems like one way of abetting denial and addressing fear, one step beyond just pretending the symptom or sign simply isn’t there. How much more obvious can a problem be than a black spot on your forehead?
Dealing with it may be wearying, or impossible. But it’s part of our job, because it’s always there.
Besides, we should be able to relate. Doctors know fear too, don’t we?
Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Dermatology News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. His second book, “Act Like a Doctor, Think Like a Patient,” is available at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. Write to him at [email protected].
Fear annoys. Fear mystifies. Fear masquerades. Fear can be trivial or terrifying. But fear is always there.
Boris has a spot on his nose. I call with test results.
“Boris, I got back your biopsy report. As expected, it did show a basal cell skin cancer.”
“Skin cancer?”
“Yes. As we discussed, basal cells are not serious and don’t spread, but you have to get it taken off.”
“Will I have to stay in the hospital?”
“No, it’s done under local anesthesia. You get it done and go home.”
“Is it urgent?”
“It can wait a few weeks. Just call for an appointment.”
“Will it be done in the hospital itself, or in another building?”
One question succeeds another. Each answer prompts another question. Sometimes the queries circle back and threaten to start the interrogation over. Children use the same tactic before you freeze their wart. “Wait! Will it hurt?” “Wait, wait, how many times will you freeze it?” “Wait, wait, how many seconds will it take?”
It takes patience, but Boris’s tone finally softens, and the questions stop. The queries are less requests for information than stalling tactics. Maybe if I keep asking, the problem will go away.
Stella is more perplexing than Boris, not to mention more challenging.
“I had a melanoma on my forehead, Doctor. But it’s all taken care of.”
“Taken care of?”
“Yes. The dermatologist in Clarksville did a biopsy, which showed melanoma, but I had a healer take care of it.”
“A healer?”
“Yes. I tell the healer my problem. She doesn’t even have to be there. She can heal from anywhere. She took care of it.”
“With due respect, I don’t think she did.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s still there on your forehead. I can see it.”
Stella and I negotiate. I will perform another biopsy, but only after she promises me that if the biopsy confirms the presence of melanoma, she’ll see a surgeon.
The biopsy shows melanoma in situ. Two weeks later the surgeon’s office calls to say that Stella has canceled her appointment.
I call Stella.
“I decided to cancel my appointment,” she says. “I asked the surgeon to perform another biopsy, but she refused. I found another dermatologist who will do it.”
“Just curious,” I say. “If two previous biopsies didn’t convince you that you have melanoma, why would a third?”
“Because I thought the healer had finished taking care of it, but she hadn’t,” Stella says. “Now she has.”
Stella pauses. “I know I’m on shaky ground here,” she says. “Maybe I don’t have a leg to stand on. But I just need to be sure.”
“You know,” I say, “if you don’t remove a melanoma, it can spread and cause death.”
Stella does know this. But she still isn’t sure it hasn’t already been taken care of. She has to be sure. Wait, wait ...
“You understand,” I say, “that I can’t be your doctor anymore, since you aren’t willing to follow my advice.”
“Of course,” says Stella, “that goes without saying.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” I say. “If I can’t be responsible for your health, I have to make sure you know that, that you know why, and that you pick someone else to take care of you. It seems you have chosen someone.”
We all see many Borises. There are plenty of Stellas, too, though we don’t often see them. People who think as she does, who put their trust in strange treatments and sundry healers, don’t often show up in our offices. How they can think the way they do passes my understanding. But then much that I read or hear in the news about what people think passes my understanding. They are not my responsibility, though; Stella is, or at least she was.
Stella’s faith in her remote healer seems like one way of abetting denial and addressing fear, one step beyond just pretending the symptom or sign simply isn’t there. How much more obvious can a problem be than a black spot on your forehead?
Dealing with it may be wearying, or impossible. But it’s part of our job, because it’s always there.
Besides, we should be able to relate. Doctors know fear too, don’t we?
Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Dermatology News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. His second book, “Act Like a Doctor, Think Like a Patient,” is available at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. Write to him at [email protected].
Fear annoys. Fear mystifies. Fear masquerades. Fear can be trivial or terrifying. But fear is always there.
Boris has a spot on his nose. I call with test results.
“Boris, I got back your biopsy report. As expected, it did show a basal cell skin cancer.”
“Skin cancer?”
“Yes. As we discussed, basal cells are not serious and don’t spread, but you have to get it taken off.”
“Will I have to stay in the hospital?”
“No, it’s done under local anesthesia. You get it done and go home.”
“Is it urgent?”
“It can wait a few weeks. Just call for an appointment.”
“Will it be done in the hospital itself, or in another building?”
One question succeeds another. Each answer prompts another question. Sometimes the queries circle back and threaten to start the interrogation over. Children use the same tactic before you freeze their wart. “Wait! Will it hurt?” “Wait, wait, how many times will you freeze it?” “Wait, wait, how many seconds will it take?”
It takes patience, but Boris’s tone finally softens, and the questions stop. The queries are less requests for information than stalling tactics. Maybe if I keep asking, the problem will go away.
Stella is more perplexing than Boris, not to mention more challenging.
“I had a melanoma on my forehead, Doctor. But it’s all taken care of.”
“Taken care of?”
“Yes. The dermatologist in Clarksville did a biopsy, which showed melanoma, but I had a healer take care of it.”
“A healer?”
“Yes. I tell the healer my problem. She doesn’t even have to be there. She can heal from anywhere. She took care of it.”
“With due respect, I don’t think she did.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s still there on your forehead. I can see it.”
Stella and I negotiate. I will perform another biopsy, but only after she promises me that if the biopsy confirms the presence of melanoma, she’ll see a surgeon.
The biopsy shows melanoma in situ. Two weeks later the surgeon’s office calls to say that Stella has canceled her appointment.
I call Stella.
“I decided to cancel my appointment,” she says. “I asked the surgeon to perform another biopsy, but she refused. I found another dermatologist who will do it.”
“Just curious,” I say. “If two previous biopsies didn’t convince you that you have melanoma, why would a third?”
“Because I thought the healer had finished taking care of it, but she hadn’t,” Stella says. “Now she has.”
Stella pauses. “I know I’m on shaky ground here,” she says. “Maybe I don’t have a leg to stand on. But I just need to be sure.”
“You know,” I say, “if you don’t remove a melanoma, it can spread and cause death.”
Stella does know this. But she still isn’t sure it hasn’t already been taken care of. She has to be sure. Wait, wait ...
“You understand,” I say, “that I can’t be your doctor anymore, since you aren’t willing to follow my advice.”
“Of course,” says Stella, “that goes without saying.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” I say. “If I can’t be responsible for your health, I have to make sure you know that, that you know why, and that you pick someone else to take care of you. It seems you have chosen someone.”
We all see many Borises. There are plenty of Stellas, too, though we don’t often see them. People who think as she does, who put their trust in strange treatments and sundry healers, don’t often show up in our offices. How they can think the way they do passes my understanding. But then much that I read or hear in the news about what people think passes my understanding. They are not my responsibility, though; Stella is, or at least she was.
Stella’s faith in her remote healer seems like one way of abetting denial and addressing fear, one step beyond just pretending the symptom or sign simply isn’t there. How much more obvious can a problem be than a black spot on your forehead?
Dealing with it may be wearying, or impossible. But it’s part of our job, because it’s always there.
Besides, we should be able to relate. Doctors know fear too, don’t we?
Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Dermatology News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years. His second book, “Act Like a Doctor, Think Like a Patient,” is available at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. Write to him at [email protected].
Legal duty to nonpatients: Communicable diseases
Question: Dr. X incorrectly informs his patient Y that he is HIV negative, when in fact he had tested positive. As a result, treatment was delayed for a year. In the meantime, Y infects his sexual partner Z, who is not Dr. X’s patient, and whom the doctor has never met. In a negligence lawsuit by Z against Dr. X, which of the following is best?
A. Legal duty is used as a filter to control the tide of litigation and to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class.”
B. Duty of care arises from the doctor-patient relationship and is usually owed to the patient and no one else.
C. Even if Dr. X were negligent, Z must first establish that the doctor owes her a duty of due care.
D. As a nonpatient “third party,” Z has the burden of convincing the court that she was a known, foreseeable victim of a serious condition and was in a special relationship.
E. All correct.
Answer: E. and is generally owed to the patient and to no one else. Allowing individuals outside the relationship, i.e., nonpatient third parties, a cause of action against the provider will unwisely expand the sphere of medical liability. Besides, an expansive view of legal duty may lead the provider to breach confidentiality or invite intrusive and/or irrelevant inquiries into a patient’s personal matters. Ascertaining whether a defendant owes a duty to a claimant is the first inquiry in the tort of negligence. To say there is no duty owed is to deny liability altogether, however obvious the breach or horrendous the foreseeable injuries. Thus, duty is used as a filter mechanism to reduce frivolous suits or otherwise control the tide of litigation, to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class” as famously articulated in the 1928 Plasgraf case.1
Still, a health care provider can sometimes be found liable to one other than his or her immediate patient, notwithstanding the absence of a provider-patient relationship with that person. One such class of claims deals with communicable diseases. In Bradshaw v. Daniel,2 the Supreme Court of Tennessee held that a physician has a duty to inform a patient’s immediate family of the risk of an infectious disease such as Rocky Mountain spotted fever, although the condition itself is not contagious without a vector. In Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital,3 a lower court found no physician-patient relationship between the doctor and the patient’s son who died after contracting meningitis from his mother, who had the disease first, but was not warned of the risk of spreading it to family members. The appellate court reversed, finding liability and holding that the physician-mother relationship resulted in a special situation for imposing a duty of care for her son.
A nonpatient can sue providers who have failed to advise their patients of the sexual transmissibility of conditions such as AIDS or hepatitis B. In DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc.,4 the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania found liability where the physician’s failure to advise his patient to abstain from sexual activity for an appropriate period of time led to the sexual partner acquiring hepatitis B. The Court used a “foreseeable orbit of risk of harm” argument, stating: “If a third person is in that class of persons whose health is likely to be threatened by the patient … [she] has a cause of action … because the physician should recognize that the services rendered to the patient are necessary for the protection of the third person.” And in Reisner v. Regents of the University of California,5 a 12-year-old girl became infected with HIV after receiving tainted blood, but the defendant did not disclose the information in a timely manner. She died of AIDS at age seventeen, but not before infecting her sexual partner, who was the plaintiff in the case. The court held that a physician fulfills his duty only after he warns the patient of the risk to others, and that the lack of knowledge of the third party’s identity was immaterial.
Liability may be more likely in jurisdictions that impose a statutory duty on physicians to inform, counsel, or warn their patients or inform health authorities of conditions such as AIDS. California allows the attending physician to disclose to “a person reasonably believed to be the spouse … a sexual partner or a person with whom the patient has shared the use of hypodermic needles, or to the local health officer.”6 Although this statutory disclosure is permissive rather than mandatory, it may prove persuasive in any court’s deliberation over the “no-duty” defense argument.
A recent case7 presents an interesting fact-situation on the duty issue. Dr. CC incorrectly told his patient that he tested negative for a sexually transmissible disease (herpes), when in fact he had tested positive. His girlfriend, who was not Dr. CC’s patient, became infected and filed suit. The trial court dismissed, ruling that the doctor owed no duty to the girlfriend, because she was not his patient and therefore she had no “legally cognizable claim.” Connecticut’s highest court has recently heard oral arguments on appeal, and its decision is pending.
The AMA has filed an amicus brief in support of Dr. CC.8 It argues that Connecticut’s precedent mitigates against expansion of a provider’s duty to nonpatients and raises public policy concerns such as impact on malpractice insurance rates, patient care, and the ethics of patient confidentiality. The brief concluded that it was “… nearly impossible to articulate a bright-line rule of foreseeability … when, like here, the class of persons potentially exposed to injury from such care is so broad and cannot be readily identifiable at the time care is rendered.”
References
1. Palsgraf v. Long Island Railroad Co., 248 N.Y. 339, 162 N.E. 99 (1928).
2. Bradshaw v. Daniel, 854 S.W.2d 865 (Tenn. 1993).
3. Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital, 390 N.W.2d 239 (Mich. App. 1986).
4. DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc., 583 A 2d 422 (Penn. 1990).
5. Reisner v. Regents of the University of California, 37 Cal Rptr 2d 518 (Cal App 2 Dist., 1995).
6. California Health & Safety Code §121015 (a).
7. Doe v. Cochran, 62 Conn L Rptr 33, 2016 (S.C. #19879).
8. What duties do physicians owe to non-patients? AMA News. 2018 Jul 13.
Dr. Tan is Emeritus Professor of Medicine and former Adjunct Professor of Law at the University of Hawaii. This article is meant to be educational and does not constitute medical, ethical or legal advice. For additional information, readers may contact the author at [email protected].
Question: Dr. X incorrectly informs his patient Y that he is HIV negative, when in fact he had tested positive. As a result, treatment was delayed for a year. In the meantime, Y infects his sexual partner Z, who is not Dr. X’s patient, and whom the doctor has never met. In a negligence lawsuit by Z against Dr. X, which of the following is best?
A. Legal duty is used as a filter to control the tide of litigation and to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class.”
B. Duty of care arises from the doctor-patient relationship and is usually owed to the patient and no one else.
C. Even if Dr. X were negligent, Z must first establish that the doctor owes her a duty of due care.
D. As a nonpatient “third party,” Z has the burden of convincing the court that she was a known, foreseeable victim of a serious condition and was in a special relationship.
E. All correct.
Answer: E. and is generally owed to the patient and to no one else. Allowing individuals outside the relationship, i.e., nonpatient third parties, a cause of action against the provider will unwisely expand the sphere of medical liability. Besides, an expansive view of legal duty may lead the provider to breach confidentiality or invite intrusive and/or irrelevant inquiries into a patient’s personal matters. Ascertaining whether a defendant owes a duty to a claimant is the first inquiry in the tort of negligence. To say there is no duty owed is to deny liability altogether, however obvious the breach or horrendous the foreseeable injuries. Thus, duty is used as a filter mechanism to reduce frivolous suits or otherwise control the tide of litigation, to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class” as famously articulated in the 1928 Plasgraf case.1
Still, a health care provider can sometimes be found liable to one other than his or her immediate patient, notwithstanding the absence of a provider-patient relationship with that person. One such class of claims deals with communicable diseases. In Bradshaw v. Daniel,2 the Supreme Court of Tennessee held that a physician has a duty to inform a patient’s immediate family of the risk of an infectious disease such as Rocky Mountain spotted fever, although the condition itself is not contagious without a vector. In Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital,3 a lower court found no physician-patient relationship between the doctor and the patient’s son who died after contracting meningitis from his mother, who had the disease first, but was not warned of the risk of spreading it to family members. The appellate court reversed, finding liability and holding that the physician-mother relationship resulted in a special situation for imposing a duty of care for her son.
A nonpatient can sue providers who have failed to advise their patients of the sexual transmissibility of conditions such as AIDS or hepatitis B. In DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc.,4 the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania found liability where the physician’s failure to advise his patient to abstain from sexual activity for an appropriate period of time led to the sexual partner acquiring hepatitis B. The Court used a “foreseeable orbit of risk of harm” argument, stating: “If a third person is in that class of persons whose health is likely to be threatened by the patient … [she] has a cause of action … because the physician should recognize that the services rendered to the patient are necessary for the protection of the third person.” And in Reisner v. Regents of the University of California,5 a 12-year-old girl became infected with HIV after receiving tainted blood, but the defendant did not disclose the information in a timely manner. She died of AIDS at age seventeen, but not before infecting her sexual partner, who was the plaintiff in the case. The court held that a physician fulfills his duty only after he warns the patient of the risk to others, and that the lack of knowledge of the third party’s identity was immaterial.
Liability may be more likely in jurisdictions that impose a statutory duty on physicians to inform, counsel, or warn their patients or inform health authorities of conditions such as AIDS. California allows the attending physician to disclose to “a person reasonably believed to be the spouse … a sexual partner or a person with whom the patient has shared the use of hypodermic needles, or to the local health officer.”6 Although this statutory disclosure is permissive rather than mandatory, it may prove persuasive in any court’s deliberation over the “no-duty” defense argument.
A recent case7 presents an interesting fact-situation on the duty issue. Dr. CC incorrectly told his patient that he tested negative for a sexually transmissible disease (herpes), when in fact he had tested positive. His girlfriend, who was not Dr. CC’s patient, became infected and filed suit. The trial court dismissed, ruling that the doctor owed no duty to the girlfriend, because she was not his patient and therefore she had no “legally cognizable claim.” Connecticut’s highest court has recently heard oral arguments on appeal, and its decision is pending.
The AMA has filed an amicus brief in support of Dr. CC.8 It argues that Connecticut’s precedent mitigates against expansion of a provider’s duty to nonpatients and raises public policy concerns such as impact on malpractice insurance rates, patient care, and the ethics of patient confidentiality. The brief concluded that it was “… nearly impossible to articulate a bright-line rule of foreseeability … when, like here, the class of persons potentially exposed to injury from such care is so broad and cannot be readily identifiable at the time care is rendered.”
References
1. Palsgraf v. Long Island Railroad Co., 248 N.Y. 339, 162 N.E. 99 (1928).
2. Bradshaw v. Daniel, 854 S.W.2d 865 (Tenn. 1993).
3. Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital, 390 N.W.2d 239 (Mich. App. 1986).
4. DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc., 583 A 2d 422 (Penn. 1990).
5. Reisner v. Regents of the University of California, 37 Cal Rptr 2d 518 (Cal App 2 Dist., 1995).
6. California Health & Safety Code §121015 (a).
7. Doe v. Cochran, 62 Conn L Rptr 33, 2016 (S.C. #19879).
8. What duties do physicians owe to non-patients? AMA News. 2018 Jul 13.
Dr. Tan is Emeritus Professor of Medicine and former Adjunct Professor of Law at the University of Hawaii. This article is meant to be educational and does not constitute medical, ethical or legal advice. For additional information, readers may contact the author at [email protected].
Question: Dr. X incorrectly informs his patient Y that he is HIV negative, when in fact he had tested positive. As a result, treatment was delayed for a year. In the meantime, Y infects his sexual partner Z, who is not Dr. X’s patient, and whom the doctor has never met. In a negligence lawsuit by Z against Dr. X, which of the following is best?
A. Legal duty is used as a filter to control the tide of litigation and to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class.”
B. Duty of care arises from the doctor-patient relationship and is usually owed to the patient and no one else.
C. Even if Dr. X were negligent, Z must first establish that the doctor owes her a duty of due care.
D. As a nonpatient “third party,” Z has the burden of convincing the court that she was a known, foreseeable victim of a serious condition and was in a special relationship.
E. All correct.
Answer: E. and is generally owed to the patient and to no one else. Allowing individuals outside the relationship, i.e., nonpatient third parties, a cause of action against the provider will unwisely expand the sphere of medical liability. Besides, an expansive view of legal duty may lead the provider to breach confidentiality or invite intrusive and/or irrelevant inquiries into a patient’s personal matters. Ascertaining whether a defendant owes a duty to a claimant is the first inquiry in the tort of negligence. To say there is no duty owed is to deny liability altogether, however obvious the breach or horrendous the foreseeable injuries. Thus, duty is used as a filter mechanism to reduce frivolous suits or otherwise control the tide of litigation, to prevent “liability in an indeterminate amount for an indeterminate time to an indeterminate class” as famously articulated in the 1928 Plasgraf case.1
Still, a health care provider can sometimes be found liable to one other than his or her immediate patient, notwithstanding the absence of a provider-patient relationship with that person. One such class of claims deals with communicable diseases. In Bradshaw v. Daniel,2 the Supreme Court of Tennessee held that a physician has a duty to inform a patient’s immediate family of the risk of an infectious disease such as Rocky Mountain spotted fever, although the condition itself is not contagious without a vector. In Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital,3 a lower court found no physician-patient relationship between the doctor and the patient’s son who died after contracting meningitis from his mother, who had the disease first, but was not warned of the risk of spreading it to family members. The appellate court reversed, finding liability and holding that the physician-mother relationship resulted in a special situation for imposing a duty of care for her son.
A nonpatient can sue providers who have failed to advise their patients of the sexual transmissibility of conditions such as AIDS or hepatitis B. In DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc.,4 the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania found liability where the physician’s failure to advise his patient to abstain from sexual activity for an appropriate period of time led to the sexual partner acquiring hepatitis B. The Court used a “foreseeable orbit of risk of harm” argument, stating: “If a third person is in that class of persons whose health is likely to be threatened by the patient … [she] has a cause of action … because the physician should recognize that the services rendered to the patient are necessary for the protection of the third person.” And in Reisner v. Regents of the University of California,5 a 12-year-old girl became infected with HIV after receiving tainted blood, but the defendant did not disclose the information in a timely manner. She died of AIDS at age seventeen, but not before infecting her sexual partner, who was the plaintiff in the case. The court held that a physician fulfills his duty only after he warns the patient of the risk to others, and that the lack of knowledge of the third party’s identity was immaterial.
Liability may be more likely in jurisdictions that impose a statutory duty on physicians to inform, counsel, or warn their patients or inform health authorities of conditions such as AIDS. California allows the attending physician to disclose to “a person reasonably believed to be the spouse … a sexual partner or a person with whom the patient has shared the use of hypodermic needles, or to the local health officer.”6 Although this statutory disclosure is permissive rather than mandatory, it may prove persuasive in any court’s deliberation over the “no-duty” defense argument.
A recent case7 presents an interesting fact-situation on the duty issue. Dr. CC incorrectly told his patient that he tested negative for a sexually transmissible disease (herpes), when in fact he had tested positive. His girlfriend, who was not Dr. CC’s patient, became infected and filed suit. The trial court dismissed, ruling that the doctor owed no duty to the girlfriend, because she was not his patient and therefore she had no “legally cognizable claim.” Connecticut’s highest court has recently heard oral arguments on appeal, and its decision is pending.
The AMA has filed an amicus brief in support of Dr. CC.8 It argues that Connecticut’s precedent mitigates against expansion of a provider’s duty to nonpatients and raises public policy concerns such as impact on malpractice insurance rates, patient care, and the ethics of patient confidentiality. The brief concluded that it was “… nearly impossible to articulate a bright-line rule of foreseeability … when, like here, the class of persons potentially exposed to injury from such care is so broad and cannot be readily identifiable at the time care is rendered.”
References
1. Palsgraf v. Long Island Railroad Co., 248 N.Y. 339, 162 N.E. 99 (1928).
2. Bradshaw v. Daniel, 854 S.W.2d 865 (Tenn. 1993).
3. Shepard v. Redford Community Hospital, 390 N.W.2d 239 (Mich. App. 1986).
4. DiMarco v. Lynch Homes-Chester County Inc., 583 A 2d 422 (Penn. 1990).
5. Reisner v. Regents of the University of California, 37 Cal Rptr 2d 518 (Cal App 2 Dist., 1995).
6. California Health & Safety Code §121015 (a).
7. Doe v. Cochran, 62 Conn L Rptr 33, 2016 (S.C. #19879).
8. What duties do physicians owe to non-patients? AMA News. 2018 Jul 13.
Dr. Tan is Emeritus Professor of Medicine and former Adjunct Professor of Law at the University of Hawaii. This article is meant to be educational and does not constitute medical, ethical or legal advice. For additional information, readers may contact the author at [email protected].
Patient-centered care in clinic
Almost 30 years ago a young woman made an appointment to see me. I had just started my internal medicine practice and almost all the patients who saw me were new to me. I assumed she was establishing care with me. Her first words to me were “Hello Dr. Paauw, I would like to interview you to see if you will be a good fit as my doctor.” We talked for the 40-minute appointment time. I asked her about her health, her life, and what she wanted out of both. We shared with each other that we both were parents of young children. When the appointment was over, she said she would really like for me to be her doctor. She told me that the main thing she appreciated about me was that I listened, and that her previous physician never sat down at her appointments and often had his hand on the door handle for much of the visit. Physicians and patients both agree that compassionate care is essential for good patient care, yet about half of patients and 60% of doctors believe it is lacking in our medical system.1
Remember the golden first minutes
I often start by asking the patient to give me an update on how they are doing. This lets me know what is important to them. I do not touch the computer until after this initial check-in.
Use the computer as a bond to strengthen your patient relationship
Many studies have shown patients find the computer gets between the doctor and patient. It is especially problematic if it breaks eye contact with the patient. People are less likely to share scary, sensitive, or embarrassing information if someone is looking at a computer and typing. As you look up tests, radiology reports, or consultant notes, let the patient in on what you are doing. Explain why you are searching in the record, and if it helps make an important point, show your findings to the patient. Offer to print out results, so they have something to carry with them.
Explain what you are looking for and what you find on the physical exam
Being a patient is scary. We all want reassurance that our fears are not true. When you find normal findings on exam, share those with the patient. Hearing “your heart sounds good, your pulses are strong” really helps patients. Explaining what we are doing when we examine is also helpful. Explain why you are feeling for lymph nodes in the neck, why we percuss the abdomen. Patients are often fascinated by getting a window into how we are thinking. I usually have medical students with me, which offers another avenue to explaining the how and why behind the exam. In asking and explaining to students, the patient is also taught why we do what we do.
Make sure that we cover what they are afraid of, not just what their symptom is
Patients come in not just to get symptom relief but to rest their mind from their fears of what it could be. I find it helpful to ask the patient what they think is the cause of the problem, or if they are worried about any specific diagnosis. With certain symptoms this is particularly important (for example, headaches, fatigue, or abdominal pain).
None of these suggestions are easy to do in busy, time-pressured clinic visits. I have found though that when patients feel cared about, listened to and can have their fears addressed they value our advice more, and less time is needed to negotiate the plan, as it has been developed together.
Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].
Reference
Lown BA et al. Health Aff (Millwood). 2011 Sep;30(9):1772-8.
Almost 30 years ago a young woman made an appointment to see me. I had just started my internal medicine practice and almost all the patients who saw me were new to me. I assumed she was establishing care with me. Her first words to me were “Hello Dr. Paauw, I would like to interview you to see if you will be a good fit as my doctor.” We talked for the 40-minute appointment time. I asked her about her health, her life, and what she wanted out of both. We shared with each other that we both were parents of young children. When the appointment was over, she said she would really like for me to be her doctor. She told me that the main thing she appreciated about me was that I listened, and that her previous physician never sat down at her appointments and often had his hand on the door handle for much of the visit. Physicians and patients both agree that compassionate care is essential for good patient care, yet about half of patients and 60% of doctors believe it is lacking in our medical system.1
Remember the golden first minutes
I often start by asking the patient to give me an update on how they are doing. This lets me know what is important to them. I do not touch the computer until after this initial check-in.
Use the computer as a bond to strengthen your patient relationship
Many studies have shown patients find the computer gets between the doctor and patient. It is especially problematic if it breaks eye contact with the patient. People are less likely to share scary, sensitive, or embarrassing information if someone is looking at a computer and typing. As you look up tests, radiology reports, or consultant notes, let the patient in on what you are doing. Explain why you are searching in the record, and if it helps make an important point, show your findings to the patient. Offer to print out results, so they have something to carry with them.
Explain what you are looking for and what you find on the physical exam
Being a patient is scary. We all want reassurance that our fears are not true. When you find normal findings on exam, share those with the patient. Hearing “your heart sounds good, your pulses are strong” really helps patients. Explaining what we are doing when we examine is also helpful. Explain why you are feeling for lymph nodes in the neck, why we percuss the abdomen. Patients are often fascinated by getting a window into how we are thinking. I usually have medical students with me, which offers another avenue to explaining the how and why behind the exam. In asking and explaining to students, the patient is also taught why we do what we do.
Make sure that we cover what they are afraid of, not just what their symptom is
Patients come in not just to get symptom relief but to rest their mind from their fears of what it could be. I find it helpful to ask the patient what they think is the cause of the problem, or if they are worried about any specific diagnosis. With certain symptoms this is particularly important (for example, headaches, fatigue, or abdominal pain).
None of these suggestions are easy to do in busy, time-pressured clinic visits. I have found though that when patients feel cared about, listened to and can have their fears addressed they value our advice more, and less time is needed to negotiate the plan, as it has been developed together.
Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].
Reference
Lown BA et al. Health Aff (Millwood). 2011 Sep;30(9):1772-8.
Almost 30 years ago a young woman made an appointment to see me. I had just started my internal medicine practice and almost all the patients who saw me were new to me. I assumed she was establishing care with me. Her first words to me were “Hello Dr. Paauw, I would like to interview you to see if you will be a good fit as my doctor.” We talked for the 40-minute appointment time. I asked her about her health, her life, and what she wanted out of both. We shared with each other that we both were parents of young children. When the appointment was over, she said she would really like for me to be her doctor. She told me that the main thing she appreciated about me was that I listened, and that her previous physician never sat down at her appointments and often had his hand on the door handle for much of the visit. Physicians and patients both agree that compassionate care is essential for good patient care, yet about half of patients and 60% of doctors believe it is lacking in our medical system.1
Remember the golden first minutes
I often start by asking the patient to give me an update on how they are doing. This lets me know what is important to them. I do not touch the computer until after this initial check-in.
Use the computer as a bond to strengthen your patient relationship
Many studies have shown patients find the computer gets between the doctor and patient. It is especially problematic if it breaks eye contact with the patient. People are less likely to share scary, sensitive, or embarrassing information if someone is looking at a computer and typing. As you look up tests, radiology reports, or consultant notes, let the patient in on what you are doing. Explain why you are searching in the record, and if it helps make an important point, show your findings to the patient. Offer to print out results, so they have something to carry with them.
Explain what you are looking for and what you find on the physical exam
Being a patient is scary. We all want reassurance that our fears are not true. When you find normal findings on exam, share those with the patient. Hearing “your heart sounds good, your pulses are strong” really helps patients. Explaining what we are doing when we examine is also helpful. Explain why you are feeling for lymph nodes in the neck, why we percuss the abdomen. Patients are often fascinated by getting a window into how we are thinking. I usually have medical students with me, which offers another avenue to explaining the how and why behind the exam. In asking and explaining to students, the patient is also taught why we do what we do.
Make sure that we cover what they are afraid of, not just what their symptom is
Patients come in not just to get symptom relief but to rest their mind from their fears of what it could be. I find it helpful to ask the patient what they think is the cause of the problem, or if they are worried about any specific diagnosis. With certain symptoms this is particularly important (for example, headaches, fatigue, or abdominal pain).
None of these suggestions are easy to do in busy, time-pressured clinic visits. I have found though that when patients feel cared about, listened to and can have their fears addressed they value our advice more, and less time is needed to negotiate the plan, as it has been developed together.
Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].
Reference
Lown BA et al. Health Aff (Millwood). 2011 Sep;30(9):1772-8.
Preventing delayed genitourinary tract injury during benign hysterectomy
and the circumstances under which it should be performed. Procedures directed at prolapse and incontinence have rates of genitourinary injury as high as 11%-38%, and national guidelines affirm the importance of cystoscopy in these patients.1 However, for patients undergoing hysterectomy in the absence of these procedures, the optimal strategy is debated. One approach that has been advanced is a policy of universal cystoscopy at the time of hysterectomy. This policy, by which all women undergoing hysterectomy would undergo cystoscopy, aims to prevent the occurrence of an unrecognized genitourinary injury by diagnosing and treating the injury intraoperatively. However, cystoscopy is not the only method that can be used to evaluate the urinary tract. Retroperitoneal dissection also can be used to visually identify the pertinent structures and has been performed with high fidelity by generations of experienced and skilled pelvic surgeons.
Injuries that are not identified intraoperatively at the time of surgery, so-called delayed genitourinary tract injuries, are associated with serious postoperative consequences for patients and high costs for institutions. As surgeons strive to decrease complications and improve the quality of gynecologic surgery, the question of whether cystoscopy should routinely be performed at the time of hysterectomy for benign indications remains unanswered. Proponents argue that cystoscopy is a low-cost assessment and that 75% of genitourinary injuries occur in women without identifiable risk factors.2 Opponents point out that cystoscopy is not an entirely benign intervention; it is associated with increased rates of urinary tract infection, bladder and ureteral trauma, and additional operating room time. Furthermore, it is unclear that the use of cystoscopy will reduce the incidence of delayed genitourinary tract injury in clinical practice.
Ultimately, cystoscopy after hysterectomy is being used as a screening test for genitourinary injury, and this lens can be applied to provide more information about its usefulness. For screening tests, the sensitivity and false negative rate are of paramount importance. High sensitivity and resultant few false negatives are the characteristics of a robust screening test which has a low likelihood of missing a diagnosis. Unfortunately, the sensitivity of cystoscopy is not 100% for genitourinary tract injury; it ranges from 60% to 85% and can be as low as 43% for ureteral injury.3,4 This means that cystoscopy will falsely reassure the surgeon with normal results in greater than 50% of the cases in which the patient actually has a ureteral injury.
Some larger series call into question the usefulness of cystoscopy as a screening tool, finding that this evaluation is not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary injury. A recent publication by our group of a series of 39,529 women who underwent benign hysterectomy without procedures directed at incontinence and prolapse recorded in the National Surgical Quality Improvement Program (NSQIP) database between 2015 and 2017 found no difference in the rate of delayed genitourinary injury among women exposed to diagnostic cystoscopy and those who were not.5 These results are consistent with those of the largest systematic review and meta-analysis of 79 studies capturing 41,482 hysterectomies which found universal cystoscopy was not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary tract injury.6
Another consideration with the use of universal cystoscopy is cost. Although cystoscopy is typically a short procedure, the false positive rate is approximately 2%,2 often leading to additional interventions to evaluate the urinary tract which can be time consuming. In the limited available data regarding operative time, patients who underwent cystoscopy had a median operative time that was 17 minutes longer than it was among patients who did not.5 Moreover, there may be risks associated with this additional bladder instrumentation, evidenced by an increased incidence of urinary tract infection among women undergoing cystoscopy. In a recent cost-effectiveness analysis of cystoscopy at the time of benign hysterectomy, universal cystoscopy was found to add $51.39-$57.86 per case, and the risk of bladder injury would need to exceed 21%-47% and ureteral injury 27%-38% to be cost saving, compared with selective cystoscopy.7 A prior cost-effectiveness analysis concluded that universal cystoscopy is cost effective when the incidence of ureteral injury at the time of hysterectomy exceeds 1.5%-2.0%.8 Given these high thresholds, with a contemporary composite lower–genitourinary tract injury incidence of 0.24%-0.27%, it is unlikely that universal cystoscopy could be considered a cost-saving strategy in the majority of clinical settings.
Potential explanations for these results are many. Intraoperative cystoscopy is likely to be normal in the setting of nonobstructive and thermal injuries, which in the current era of minimally invasive surgery may be more prevalent mechanisms of injury. False positives can occur leading to unnecessary interventions, as well as overdiagnosis of asymptomatic urinary tract injuries that may have resolved spontaneously.9 It has been observed that cystoscopy is performed less frequently when hysterectomy is completed by a high-volume surgeon, which suggests that surgeon skill and experience play a significant role in the usefulness of this evaluation.9
Given these data, what is the best way forward regarding evaluation of the urinary tract at the time of benign hysterectomy? Ultimately, this is a clinical question that should be individualized, taking into account patient and surgical complexity, as well as surgeon training and individual rates of genitourinary injuries.9 Given its low sensitivity, caution should be exercised regarding the routine use of cystoscopy alone for evaluation of the urinary tract because false negatives occur with significant frequency. Benefits of cystoscopy in a given clinical scenario should be weighed against the risks of longer operative time, increased costs, and increased rate of urinary tract infection. In the absence of clinical scenarios with high rates of genitourinary injury (greater than 5%), selective rather than universal cystoscopy is the preferred strategy.7 Cystoscopy is fundamentally a form of secondary prevention that aims to mitigate damage that has already been done, and is no substitute for primary prevention of genitourinary tract injury itself through thorough knowledge of pelvic anatomy, comfort with retroperitoneal dissection, and awareness of the ureter and bladder at all times.
Dr. Polan is a resident in obstetrics and gynecology at Northwestern University, Chicago. Dr. Barber is an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynecology, specializing in gynecologic oncology, at the university. Neither of them have relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Polan and Dr. Barber at [email protected].
References
1. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2018 Jul;219(1):75-7.
2. Obstet Gynecol. 2009 Jan;113(1):6-10.
3. Obstet Gynecol. 2016 Feb;127(2):369-75.
4. J Minim Invasive Gynecol. 2015 Nov-Dec;22(7):1278-86.
5. Obstet Gynecol. 2019 May;133(5):888-95.
6. Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Dec;126(6):1161-9.
7. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Apr;220(4):369.e1-7.
8. Obstet Gynecol. 2001 May;97(5 Pt 1):685-92.
9. Obstet Gynecol. 2012 Dec;120(6):1363-70.
and the circumstances under which it should be performed. Procedures directed at prolapse and incontinence have rates of genitourinary injury as high as 11%-38%, and national guidelines affirm the importance of cystoscopy in these patients.1 However, for patients undergoing hysterectomy in the absence of these procedures, the optimal strategy is debated. One approach that has been advanced is a policy of universal cystoscopy at the time of hysterectomy. This policy, by which all women undergoing hysterectomy would undergo cystoscopy, aims to prevent the occurrence of an unrecognized genitourinary injury by diagnosing and treating the injury intraoperatively. However, cystoscopy is not the only method that can be used to evaluate the urinary tract. Retroperitoneal dissection also can be used to visually identify the pertinent structures and has been performed with high fidelity by generations of experienced and skilled pelvic surgeons.
Injuries that are not identified intraoperatively at the time of surgery, so-called delayed genitourinary tract injuries, are associated with serious postoperative consequences for patients and high costs for institutions. As surgeons strive to decrease complications and improve the quality of gynecologic surgery, the question of whether cystoscopy should routinely be performed at the time of hysterectomy for benign indications remains unanswered. Proponents argue that cystoscopy is a low-cost assessment and that 75% of genitourinary injuries occur in women without identifiable risk factors.2 Opponents point out that cystoscopy is not an entirely benign intervention; it is associated with increased rates of urinary tract infection, bladder and ureteral trauma, and additional operating room time. Furthermore, it is unclear that the use of cystoscopy will reduce the incidence of delayed genitourinary tract injury in clinical practice.
Ultimately, cystoscopy after hysterectomy is being used as a screening test for genitourinary injury, and this lens can be applied to provide more information about its usefulness. For screening tests, the sensitivity and false negative rate are of paramount importance. High sensitivity and resultant few false negatives are the characteristics of a robust screening test which has a low likelihood of missing a diagnosis. Unfortunately, the sensitivity of cystoscopy is not 100% for genitourinary tract injury; it ranges from 60% to 85% and can be as low as 43% for ureteral injury.3,4 This means that cystoscopy will falsely reassure the surgeon with normal results in greater than 50% of the cases in which the patient actually has a ureteral injury.
Some larger series call into question the usefulness of cystoscopy as a screening tool, finding that this evaluation is not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary injury. A recent publication by our group of a series of 39,529 women who underwent benign hysterectomy without procedures directed at incontinence and prolapse recorded in the National Surgical Quality Improvement Program (NSQIP) database between 2015 and 2017 found no difference in the rate of delayed genitourinary injury among women exposed to diagnostic cystoscopy and those who were not.5 These results are consistent with those of the largest systematic review and meta-analysis of 79 studies capturing 41,482 hysterectomies which found universal cystoscopy was not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary tract injury.6
Another consideration with the use of universal cystoscopy is cost. Although cystoscopy is typically a short procedure, the false positive rate is approximately 2%,2 often leading to additional interventions to evaluate the urinary tract which can be time consuming. In the limited available data regarding operative time, patients who underwent cystoscopy had a median operative time that was 17 minutes longer than it was among patients who did not.5 Moreover, there may be risks associated with this additional bladder instrumentation, evidenced by an increased incidence of urinary tract infection among women undergoing cystoscopy. In a recent cost-effectiveness analysis of cystoscopy at the time of benign hysterectomy, universal cystoscopy was found to add $51.39-$57.86 per case, and the risk of bladder injury would need to exceed 21%-47% and ureteral injury 27%-38% to be cost saving, compared with selective cystoscopy.7 A prior cost-effectiveness analysis concluded that universal cystoscopy is cost effective when the incidence of ureteral injury at the time of hysterectomy exceeds 1.5%-2.0%.8 Given these high thresholds, with a contemporary composite lower–genitourinary tract injury incidence of 0.24%-0.27%, it is unlikely that universal cystoscopy could be considered a cost-saving strategy in the majority of clinical settings.
Potential explanations for these results are many. Intraoperative cystoscopy is likely to be normal in the setting of nonobstructive and thermal injuries, which in the current era of minimally invasive surgery may be more prevalent mechanisms of injury. False positives can occur leading to unnecessary interventions, as well as overdiagnosis of asymptomatic urinary tract injuries that may have resolved spontaneously.9 It has been observed that cystoscopy is performed less frequently when hysterectomy is completed by a high-volume surgeon, which suggests that surgeon skill and experience play a significant role in the usefulness of this evaluation.9
Given these data, what is the best way forward regarding evaluation of the urinary tract at the time of benign hysterectomy? Ultimately, this is a clinical question that should be individualized, taking into account patient and surgical complexity, as well as surgeon training and individual rates of genitourinary injuries.9 Given its low sensitivity, caution should be exercised regarding the routine use of cystoscopy alone for evaluation of the urinary tract because false negatives occur with significant frequency. Benefits of cystoscopy in a given clinical scenario should be weighed against the risks of longer operative time, increased costs, and increased rate of urinary tract infection. In the absence of clinical scenarios with high rates of genitourinary injury (greater than 5%), selective rather than universal cystoscopy is the preferred strategy.7 Cystoscopy is fundamentally a form of secondary prevention that aims to mitigate damage that has already been done, and is no substitute for primary prevention of genitourinary tract injury itself through thorough knowledge of pelvic anatomy, comfort with retroperitoneal dissection, and awareness of the ureter and bladder at all times.
Dr. Polan is a resident in obstetrics and gynecology at Northwestern University, Chicago. Dr. Barber is an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynecology, specializing in gynecologic oncology, at the university. Neither of them have relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Polan and Dr. Barber at [email protected].
References
1. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2018 Jul;219(1):75-7.
2. Obstet Gynecol. 2009 Jan;113(1):6-10.
3. Obstet Gynecol. 2016 Feb;127(2):369-75.
4. J Minim Invasive Gynecol. 2015 Nov-Dec;22(7):1278-86.
5. Obstet Gynecol. 2019 May;133(5):888-95.
6. Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Dec;126(6):1161-9.
7. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Apr;220(4):369.e1-7.
8. Obstet Gynecol. 2001 May;97(5 Pt 1):685-92.
9. Obstet Gynecol. 2012 Dec;120(6):1363-70.
and the circumstances under which it should be performed. Procedures directed at prolapse and incontinence have rates of genitourinary injury as high as 11%-38%, and national guidelines affirm the importance of cystoscopy in these patients.1 However, for patients undergoing hysterectomy in the absence of these procedures, the optimal strategy is debated. One approach that has been advanced is a policy of universal cystoscopy at the time of hysterectomy. This policy, by which all women undergoing hysterectomy would undergo cystoscopy, aims to prevent the occurrence of an unrecognized genitourinary injury by diagnosing and treating the injury intraoperatively. However, cystoscopy is not the only method that can be used to evaluate the urinary tract. Retroperitoneal dissection also can be used to visually identify the pertinent structures and has been performed with high fidelity by generations of experienced and skilled pelvic surgeons.
Injuries that are not identified intraoperatively at the time of surgery, so-called delayed genitourinary tract injuries, are associated with serious postoperative consequences for patients and high costs for institutions. As surgeons strive to decrease complications and improve the quality of gynecologic surgery, the question of whether cystoscopy should routinely be performed at the time of hysterectomy for benign indications remains unanswered. Proponents argue that cystoscopy is a low-cost assessment and that 75% of genitourinary injuries occur in women without identifiable risk factors.2 Opponents point out that cystoscopy is not an entirely benign intervention; it is associated with increased rates of urinary tract infection, bladder and ureteral trauma, and additional operating room time. Furthermore, it is unclear that the use of cystoscopy will reduce the incidence of delayed genitourinary tract injury in clinical practice.
Ultimately, cystoscopy after hysterectomy is being used as a screening test for genitourinary injury, and this lens can be applied to provide more information about its usefulness. For screening tests, the sensitivity and false negative rate are of paramount importance. High sensitivity and resultant few false negatives are the characteristics of a robust screening test which has a low likelihood of missing a diagnosis. Unfortunately, the sensitivity of cystoscopy is not 100% for genitourinary tract injury; it ranges from 60% to 85% and can be as low as 43% for ureteral injury.3,4 This means that cystoscopy will falsely reassure the surgeon with normal results in greater than 50% of the cases in which the patient actually has a ureteral injury.
Some larger series call into question the usefulness of cystoscopy as a screening tool, finding that this evaluation is not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary injury. A recent publication by our group of a series of 39,529 women who underwent benign hysterectomy without procedures directed at incontinence and prolapse recorded in the National Surgical Quality Improvement Program (NSQIP) database between 2015 and 2017 found no difference in the rate of delayed genitourinary injury among women exposed to diagnostic cystoscopy and those who were not.5 These results are consistent with those of the largest systematic review and meta-analysis of 79 studies capturing 41,482 hysterectomies which found universal cystoscopy was not associated with a decreased rate of delayed genitourinary tract injury.6
Another consideration with the use of universal cystoscopy is cost. Although cystoscopy is typically a short procedure, the false positive rate is approximately 2%,2 often leading to additional interventions to evaluate the urinary tract which can be time consuming. In the limited available data regarding operative time, patients who underwent cystoscopy had a median operative time that was 17 minutes longer than it was among patients who did not.5 Moreover, there may be risks associated with this additional bladder instrumentation, evidenced by an increased incidence of urinary tract infection among women undergoing cystoscopy. In a recent cost-effectiveness analysis of cystoscopy at the time of benign hysterectomy, universal cystoscopy was found to add $51.39-$57.86 per case, and the risk of bladder injury would need to exceed 21%-47% and ureteral injury 27%-38% to be cost saving, compared with selective cystoscopy.7 A prior cost-effectiveness analysis concluded that universal cystoscopy is cost effective when the incidence of ureteral injury at the time of hysterectomy exceeds 1.5%-2.0%.8 Given these high thresholds, with a contemporary composite lower–genitourinary tract injury incidence of 0.24%-0.27%, it is unlikely that universal cystoscopy could be considered a cost-saving strategy in the majority of clinical settings.
Potential explanations for these results are many. Intraoperative cystoscopy is likely to be normal in the setting of nonobstructive and thermal injuries, which in the current era of minimally invasive surgery may be more prevalent mechanisms of injury. False positives can occur leading to unnecessary interventions, as well as overdiagnosis of asymptomatic urinary tract injuries that may have resolved spontaneously.9 It has been observed that cystoscopy is performed less frequently when hysterectomy is completed by a high-volume surgeon, which suggests that surgeon skill and experience play a significant role in the usefulness of this evaluation.9
Given these data, what is the best way forward regarding evaluation of the urinary tract at the time of benign hysterectomy? Ultimately, this is a clinical question that should be individualized, taking into account patient and surgical complexity, as well as surgeon training and individual rates of genitourinary injuries.9 Given its low sensitivity, caution should be exercised regarding the routine use of cystoscopy alone for evaluation of the urinary tract because false negatives occur with significant frequency. Benefits of cystoscopy in a given clinical scenario should be weighed against the risks of longer operative time, increased costs, and increased rate of urinary tract infection. In the absence of clinical scenarios with high rates of genitourinary injury (greater than 5%), selective rather than universal cystoscopy is the preferred strategy.7 Cystoscopy is fundamentally a form of secondary prevention that aims to mitigate damage that has already been done, and is no substitute for primary prevention of genitourinary tract injury itself through thorough knowledge of pelvic anatomy, comfort with retroperitoneal dissection, and awareness of the ureter and bladder at all times.
Dr. Polan is a resident in obstetrics and gynecology at Northwestern University, Chicago. Dr. Barber is an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynecology, specializing in gynecologic oncology, at the university. Neither of them have relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Polan and Dr. Barber at [email protected].
References
1. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2018 Jul;219(1):75-7.
2. Obstet Gynecol. 2009 Jan;113(1):6-10.
3. Obstet Gynecol. 2016 Feb;127(2):369-75.
4. J Minim Invasive Gynecol. 2015 Nov-Dec;22(7):1278-86.
5. Obstet Gynecol. 2019 May;133(5):888-95.
6. Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Dec;126(6):1161-9.
7. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Apr;220(4):369.e1-7.
8. Obstet Gynecol. 2001 May;97(5 Pt 1):685-92.
9. Obstet Gynecol. 2012 Dec;120(6):1363-70.
Connected care
I previously shared my concerns about the compromises some physicians are making when they consent to practicing in a telemedicine arrangement in which the system’s technical limitations prevents them from obtaining information critical to making an accurate diagnosis. In the scenarios that I described, a physician would have great difficulty being a good steward of antibiotic usage if he were willing to make a diagnosis of otitis media or strep throat without access to tympanic membrane visualization or the results of a rapid strep test.
In response to my observation, I received an email from Dr. Kenneth McConnochie, a name out of my deep past from when we were teammates in college. Now a professor of pediatrics at University of Rochester (N.Y.) Medical Center, Dr. McConnochie has studied telemedicine in primary care extensively. He has thought a lot about telemedicine and more specifically about how it relates to quality. As he pointed out to me,
I suspect that like me, whenever you look at an article or study that has “telemedicine” in its title or headline, you are never sure what you’re going to be reading about. Is it going to be a discussion of telephone triaging in a suburban primary practice or will the article describe how a pediatric cardiologist in Anchorage can follow his little patients in the Aleutians via an audio/video hookup that provides him with the ability to auscultate and review electrocardiograms and radiographic images? Dr. McConnochie suggests that by using the broader term “connected care” for care that is delivered at a distance, and by clearly specifying different types or levels, we will be one big step closer to a more meaningful way to understand the usefulness of that care.
In the conceptual framework he proposes, level 1 is text-only care because it offers the physician the least capacity for the acquisition of (1) diagnostically relevant information and (2) interpersonal connection. Phone care can provide more and videoconferencing still more. Level 4 would be what Dr. McConnochie labels “information rich” care providing the most abundant capacity. Here, think of an arrangement in which someone at the patient’s end of the connection has been trained to use an electronic otoscope that can capture an image of the child’s tympanic membrane, an electronic stethoscope that can record heart and breath sounds, and a high resolution camera to capture images of the patient’s skin, throat, and eyes, then transmit them to the child’s electronic health record (EHR) in real time. Someone in the school or day care center where the child spends his day has been taught how to obtain and process a rapid strep test. The physician who has instant access to the child’s EHR can communicate “face to face” via teleconferencing with the day care providers and with the parent who is at work to discuss the diagnosis, treatment plan, and follow-up. If any of the parties feels the exchange of information is insufficiently robust, a traditional office visit can be arranged.
The challenge of assigning value to each level care still remains. Is the level 4 scenario I just described as valuable as a face to face traditional office visit? In some situations, it is likely to be more valuable than a visit with a physician in an urgent care clinic or emergency department who has never seen the patient and/or lacks access to the EHR because her computer doesn’t interface with the primary care physician’s EHR. It certainly may be more convenient for the family.
But who is going to assign value? A connected visit may be more efficient for the patient and the parent, but will it be more costly? And who is going to pay? Dr. McConnochie’s observations should be taken seriously by those folks who assign value and pay.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I previously shared my concerns about the compromises some physicians are making when they consent to practicing in a telemedicine arrangement in which the system’s technical limitations prevents them from obtaining information critical to making an accurate diagnosis. In the scenarios that I described, a physician would have great difficulty being a good steward of antibiotic usage if he were willing to make a diagnosis of otitis media or strep throat without access to tympanic membrane visualization or the results of a rapid strep test.
In response to my observation, I received an email from Dr. Kenneth McConnochie, a name out of my deep past from when we were teammates in college. Now a professor of pediatrics at University of Rochester (N.Y.) Medical Center, Dr. McConnochie has studied telemedicine in primary care extensively. He has thought a lot about telemedicine and more specifically about how it relates to quality. As he pointed out to me,
I suspect that like me, whenever you look at an article or study that has “telemedicine” in its title or headline, you are never sure what you’re going to be reading about. Is it going to be a discussion of telephone triaging in a suburban primary practice or will the article describe how a pediatric cardiologist in Anchorage can follow his little patients in the Aleutians via an audio/video hookup that provides him with the ability to auscultate and review electrocardiograms and radiographic images? Dr. McConnochie suggests that by using the broader term “connected care” for care that is delivered at a distance, and by clearly specifying different types or levels, we will be one big step closer to a more meaningful way to understand the usefulness of that care.
In the conceptual framework he proposes, level 1 is text-only care because it offers the physician the least capacity for the acquisition of (1) diagnostically relevant information and (2) interpersonal connection. Phone care can provide more and videoconferencing still more. Level 4 would be what Dr. McConnochie labels “information rich” care providing the most abundant capacity. Here, think of an arrangement in which someone at the patient’s end of the connection has been trained to use an electronic otoscope that can capture an image of the child’s tympanic membrane, an electronic stethoscope that can record heart and breath sounds, and a high resolution camera to capture images of the patient’s skin, throat, and eyes, then transmit them to the child’s electronic health record (EHR) in real time. Someone in the school or day care center where the child spends his day has been taught how to obtain and process a rapid strep test. The physician who has instant access to the child’s EHR can communicate “face to face” via teleconferencing with the day care providers and with the parent who is at work to discuss the diagnosis, treatment plan, and follow-up. If any of the parties feels the exchange of information is insufficiently robust, a traditional office visit can be arranged.
The challenge of assigning value to each level care still remains. Is the level 4 scenario I just described as valuable as a face to face traditional office visit? In some situations, it is likely to be more valuable than a visit with a physician in an urgent care clinic or emergency department who has never seen the patient and/or lacks access to the EHR because her computer doesn’t interface with the primary care physician’s EHR. It certainly may be more convenient for the family.
But who is going to assign value? A connected visit may be more efficient for the patient and the parent, but will it be more costly? And who is going to pay? Dr. McConnochie’s observations should be taken seriously by those folks who assign value and pay.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I previously shared my concerns about the compromises some physicians are making when they consent to practicing in a telemedicine arrangement in which the system’s technical limitations prevents them from obtaining information critical to making an accurate diagnosis. In the scenarios that I described, a physician would have great difficulty being a good steward of antibiotic usage if he were willing to make a diagnosis of otitis media or strep throat without access to tympanic membrane visualization or the results of a rapid strep test.
In response to my observation, I received an email from Dr. Kenneth McConnochie, a name out of my deep past from when we were teammates in college. Now a professor of pediatrics at University of Rochester (N.Y.) Medical Center, Dr. McConnochie has studied telemedicine in primary care extensively. He has thought a lot about telemedicine and more specifically about how it relates to quality. As he pointed out to me,
I suspect that like me, whenever you look at an article or study that has “telemedicine” in its title or headline, you are never sure what you’re going to be reading about. Is it going to be a discussion of telephone triaging in a suburban primary practice or will the article describe how a pediatric cardiologist in Anchorage can follow his little patients in the Aleutians via an audio/video hookup that provides him with the ability to auscultate and review electrocardiograms and radiographic images? Dr. McConnochie suggests that by using the broader term “connected care” for care that is delivered at a distance, and by clearly specifying different types or levels, we will be one big step closer to a more meaningful way to understand the usefulness of that care.
In the conceptual framework he proposes, level 1 is text-only care because it offers the physician the least capacity for the acquisition of (1) diagnostically relevant information and (2) interpersonal connection. Phone care can provide more and videoconferencing still more. Level 4 would be what Dr. McConnochie labels “information rich” care providing the most abundant capacity. Here, think of an arrangement in which someone at the patient’s end of the connection has been trained to use an electronic otoscope that can capture an image of the child’s tympanic membrane, an electronic stethoscope that can record heart and breath sounds, and a high resolution camera to capture images of the patient’s skin, throat, and eyes, then transmit them to the child’s electronic health record (EHR) in real time. Someone in the school or day care center where the child spends his day has been taught how to obtain and process a rapid strep test. The physician who has instant access to the child’s EHR can communicate “face to face” via teleconferencing with the day care providers and with the parent who is at work to discuss the diagnosis, treatment plan, and follow-up. If any of the parties feels the exchange of information is insufficiently robust, a traditional office visit can be arranged.
The challenge of assigning value to each level care still remains. Is the level 4 scenario I just described as valuable as a face to face traditional office visit? In some situations, it is likely to be more valuable than a visit with a physician in an urgent care clinic or emergency department who has never seen the patient and/or lacks access to the EHR because her computer doesn’t interface with the primary care physician’s EHR. It certainly may be more convenient for the family.
But who is going to assign value? A connected visit may be more efficient for the patient and the parent, but will it be more costly? And who is going to pay? Dr. McConnochie’s observations should be taken seriously by those folks who assign value and pay.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
Beyond symptom improvement: Practicing happiness
Kailah is a 13-year-old cisgender female with two working parents, two younger siblings, and a history of mild asthma and overweight who recently presented for a problem-focused visit related to increasing anxiety. An interview of Kailah and her parents led to a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, and she was referred for cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and started on a low-dose SSRI. She now presents 3 months later with decreased anxiety and is compliant with the SSRI and CBT. What next?
Positive psychology and psychiatry have emerged as scientific disciplines since Seligman et al.1 charged the field of psychology with reclaiming its stake in helping everyday people to thrive, as well as cultivating strengths and talents at each level of society – individual, family, institutional, and beyond. This call to action revealed the shift over time from mental health care toward a focus only on mental illness. And study after study confirmed that being “not depressed,” “not anxious” and so on was not the same as flourishing.2
Returning to Kailah, from a mental-health-as-usual approach, your job may be done. Her symptoms have responded to first-line treatments. Perhaps you even tracked her symptoms with a freely available standardized assessment tool like the Screen for Child Anxiety Related Disorders (SCARED)3 and noted a significant drop in her generalized anxiety score.
After a couple decades of research, the science of well-being has led to some consistent findings that can be translated into office practice with children and families. As with any new science, the first steps to building well-being are defining and measuring what we are talking about. I recommend the Flourishing Scale4 for its brevity, availability, and ease of use. It covers the domains included in Seligman’s formula for thriving: PERMA. This acronym represents a consolidation of the first decades of research on well-being, and stands for Positive Emotions, Engagement, (Positive) Relationships, Meaning, and Accomplishments. For a readable but deeper look at the science behind this, check out Seligman’s “Flourish.”5
With the Flourishing Scale total score as a starting point, the acronym PERMA itself can be a good rubric to guide assessment and treatment planning in the office. You can query each of the elements to understand a youth’s current status and areas for building strengths. What brings positive emotions? What activities bring a sense of harmonious engagement without self-consciousness or awareness of time (such as a flow state)? What supportive relationships exist? Where does the youth find meaning or purpose – connection to something larger than themselves (family, work, community, teams, religion, and so on)? And where does the youth derive a sense of competence or self-esteem – something they are good at (accomplishment)?
Your clinical recommendations can flow from this assessment discussion, melding the patient’s and family’s strengths and priorities with evidence-based interventions. “The Resilience Drive,” by Alexia Michiels,6 is a good source for the latter – each chapter has segments relating research to straightforward happiness practices. The Growing Happy card deck (available online) also has brief and usable recommendations suitable for many young people. You can use these during office visits, loan out cards, gift them to families, or recommend families purchase a deck.
To build relationships, I recommend the StoryCorps and 36 Questions To Fall In Love apps. They are free and can be used with parents, peers, or others to build relationship supports and positive intimacy. Try them out yourself first; they essentially provide a platform to generate vulnerable conversations.
Mindfulness is a great antidote to lack of engagement, and it can be practiced in a variety of forms. Card decks make good office props or giveaways, including Growing Mindful (mindfulness practices for all ages) and the YogaKids Toolbox. Plus, there’s an app for that – in fact, many. Two that are free and include materials accessible for younger age groups are Smiling Mind (a nonprofit) and Insight Timer (searchable). This can build engagement and counter negative emotions.
For increasing engagement and flow, I recommend patients and family members assess their character strengths at Strengths-Based Resilience by the University of Toronto SSQ72. Research shows that using your strengths in novel ways lowers depression risk, increases happiness,7 and may be a key to increasing engagement in everyday activities.
When Kailah came in for her next visit, a discussion of PERMA led to identifying time with her family and time with her dog as significant relationship supports that bring positive emotions. However, she struggled to identify a realm where she felt some sense of mastery or competence. Taking the strengths survey (SSQ72) brought out her strengths of love of learning and curiosity. This led to her volunteering at her local library – assisting with programs and eventually creating and leading a teens’ book group. Her CBT therapist supported her through these challenges, and she was able to taper the frequency of therapy sessions so that Kailah only returns for a booster session now every 6 months or so. While she still identifies as an anxious person, Kailah has broadened her self-image to include her resilience and love of learning as core strengths.
Dr. Andrew J. Rosenfeld is an assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center, Burlington. He said he has no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. Am Psychol. 2000;55(1):5-14.
2. Am Psychol. 2007 Feb-Mar;62(2):95-108.
3. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry. 1999 Oct;38(10):1230-6.
4. Soc Indic Res. 2009; 39:247-66.
5. “Flourish: A visionary new understanding of happiness and well-being” (New York: Free Press, 2011).
6. “The Resilience Drive” (Switzerland: Favre, 2017).
7. Am Psychol. 2005 Jul-Aug;60(5):410-21.
Kailah is a 13-year-old cisgender female with two working parents, two younger siblings, and a history of mild asthma and overweight who recently presented for a problem-focused visit related to increasing anxiety. An interview of Kailah and her parents led to a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, and she was referred for cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and started on a low-dose SSRI. She now presents 3 months later with decreased anxiety and is compliant with the SSRI and CBT. What next?
Positive psychology and psychiatry have emerged as scientific disciplines since Seligman et al.1 charged the field of psychology with reclaiming its stake in helping everyday people to thrive, as well as cultivating strengths and talents at each level of society – individual, family, institutional, and beyond. This call to action revealed the shift over time from mental health care toward a focus only on mental illness. And study after study confirmed that being “not depressed,” “not anxious” and so on was not the same as flourishing.2
Returning to Kailah, from a mental-health-as-usual approach, your job may be done. Her symptoms have responded to first-line treatments. Perhaps you even tracked her symptoms with a freely available standardized assessment tool like the Screen for Child Anxiety Related Disorders (SCARED)3 and noted a significant drop in her generalized anxiety score.
After a couple decades of research, the science of well-being has led to some consistent findings that can be translated into office practice with children and families. As with any new science, the first steps to building well-being are defining and measuring what we are talking about. I recommend the Flourishing Scale4 for its brevity, availability, and ease of use. It covers the domains included in Seligman’s formula for thriving: PERMA. This acronym represents a consolidation of the first decades of research on well-being, and stands for Positive Emotions, Engagement, (Positive) Relationships, Meaning, and Accomplishments. For a readable but deeper look at the science behind this, check out Seligman’s “Flourish.”5
With the Flourishing Scale total score as a starting point, the acronym PERMA itself can be a good rubric to guide assessment and treatment planning in the office. You can query each of the elements to understand a youth’s current status and areas for building strengths. What brings positive emotions? What activities bring a sense of harmonious engagement without self-consciousness or awareness of time (such as a flow state)? What supportive relationships exist? Where does the youth find meaning or purpose – connection to something larger than themselves (family, work, community, teams, religion, and so on)? And where does the youth derive a sense of competence or self-esteem – something they are good at (accomplishment)?
Your clinical recommendations can flow from this assessment discussion, melding the patient’s and family’s strengths and priorities with evidence-based interventions. “The Resilience Drive,” by Alexia Michiels,6 is a good source for the latter – each chapter has segments relating research to straightforward happiness practices. The Growing Happy card deck (available online) also has brief and usable recommendations suitable for many young people. You can use these during office visits, loan out cards, gift them to families, or recommend families purchase a deck.
To build relationships, I recommend the StoryCorps and 36 Questions To Fall In Love apps. They are free and can be used with parents, peers, or others to build relationship supports and positive intimacy. Try them out yourself first; they essentially provide a platform to generate vulnerable conversations.
Mindfulness is a great antidote to lack of engagement, and it can be practiced in a variety of forms. Card decks make good office props or giveaways, including Growing Mindful (mindfulness practices for all ages) and the YogaKids Toolbox. Plus, there’s an app for that – in fact, many. Two that are free and include materials accessible for younger age groups are Smiling Mind (a nonprofit) and Insight Timer (searchable). This can build engagement and counter negative emotions.
For increasing engagement and flow, I recommend patients and family members assess their character strengths at Strengths-Based Resilience by the University of Toronto SSQ72. Research shows that using your strengths in novel ways lowers depression risk, increases happiness,7 and may be a key to increasing engagement in everyday activities.
When Kailah came in for her next visit, a discussion of PERMA led to identifying time with her family and time with her dog as significant relationship supports that bring positive emotions. However, she struggled to identify a realm where she felt some sense of mastery or competence. Taking the strengths survey (SSQ72) brought out her strengths of love of learning and curiosity. This led to her volunteering at her local library – assisting with programs and eventually creating and leading a teens’ book group. Her CBT therapist supported her through these challenges, and she was able to taper the frequency of therapy sessions so that Kailah only returns for a booster session now every 6 months or so. While she still identifies as an anxious person, Kailah has broadened her self-image to include her resilience and love of learning as core strengths.
Dr. Andrew J. Rosenfeld is an assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center, Burlington. He said he has no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. Am Psychol. 2000;55(1):5-14.
2. Am Psychol. 2007 Feb-Mar;62(2):95-108.
3. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry. 1999 Oct;38(10):1230-6.
4. Soc Indic Res. 2009; 39:247-66.
5. “Flourish: A visionary new understanding of happiness and well-being” (New York: Free Press, 2011).
6. “The Resilience Drive” (Switzerland: Favre, 2017).
7. Am Psychol. 2005 Jul-Aug;60(5):410-21.
Kailah is a 13-year-old cisgender female with two working parents, two younger siblings, and a history of mild asthma and overweight who recently presented for a problem-focused visit related to increasing anxiety. An interview of Kailah and her parents led to a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, and she was referred for cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and started on a low-dose SSRI. She now presents 3 months later with decreased anxiety and is compliant with the SSRI and CBT. What next?
Positive psychology and psychiatry have emerged as scientific disciplines since Seligman et al.1 charged the field of psychology with reclaiming its stake in helping everyday people to thrive, as well as cultivating strengths and talents at each level of society – individual, family, institutional, and beyond. This call to action revealed the shift over time from mental health care toward a focus only on mental illness. And study after study confirmed that being “not depressed,” “not anxious” and so on was not the same as flourishing.2
Returning to Kailah, from a mental-health-as-usual approach, your job may be done. Her symptoms have responded to first-line treatments. Perhaps you even tracked her symptoms with a freely available standardized assessment tool like the Screen for Child Anxiety Related Disorders (SCARED)3 and noted a significant drop in her generalized anxiety score.
After a couple decades of research, the science of well-being has led to some consistent findings that can be translated into office practice with children and families. As with any new science, the first steps to building well-being are defining and measuring what we are talking about. I recommend the Flourishing Scale4 for its brevity, availability, and ease of use. It covers the domains included in Seligman’s formula for thriving: PERMA. This acronym represents a consolidation of the first decades of research on well-being, and stands for Positive Emotions, Engagement, (Positive) Relationships, Meaning, and Accomplishments. For a readable but deeper look at the science behind this, check out Seligman’s “Flourish.”5
With the Flourishing Scale total score as a starting point, the acronym PERMA itself can be a good rubric to guide assessment and treatment planning in the office. You can query each of the elements to understand a youth’s current status and areas for building strengths. What brings positive emotions? What activities bring a sense of harmonious engagement without self-consciousness or awareness of time (such as a flow state)? What supportive relationships exist? Where does the youth find meaning or purpose – connection to something larger than themselves (family, work, community, teams, religion, and so on)? And where does the youth derive a sense of competence or self-esteem – something they are good at (accomplishment)?
Your clinical recommendations can flow from this assessment discussion, melding the patient’s and family’s strengths and priorities with evidence-based interventions. “The Resilience Drive,” by Alexia Michiels,6 is a good source for the latter – each chapter has segments relating research to straightforward happiness practices. The Growing Happy card deck (available online) also has brief and usable recommendations suitable for many young people. You can use these during office visits, loan out cards, gift them to families, or recommend families purchase a deck.
To build relationships, I recommend the StoryCorps and 36 Questions To Fall In Love apps. They are free and can be used with parents, peers, or others to build relationship supports and positive intimacy. Try them out yourself first; they essentially provide a platform to generate vulnerable conversations.
Mindfulness is a great antidote to lack of engagement, and it can be practiced in a variety of forms. Card decks make good office props or giveaways, including Growing Mindful (mindfulness practices for all ages) and the YogaKids Toolbox. Plus, there’s an app for that – in fact, many. Two that are free and include materials accessible for younger age groups are Smiling Mind (a nonprofit) and Insight Timer (searchable). This can build engagement and counter negative emotions.
For increasing engagement and flow, I recommend patients and family members assess their character strengths at Strengths-Based Resilience by the University of Toronto SSQ72. Research shows that using your strengths in novel ways lowers depression risk, increases happiness,7 and may be a key to increasing engagement in everyday activities.
When Kailah came in for her next visit, a discussion of PERMA led to identifying time with her family and time with her dog as significant relationship supports that bring positive emotions. However, she struggled to identify a realm where she felt some sense of mastery or competence. Taking the strengths survey (SSQ72) brought out her strengths of love of learning and curiosity. This led to her volunteering at her local library – assisting with programs and eventually creating and leading a teens’ book group. Her CBT therapist supported her through these challenges, and she was able to taper the frequency of therapy sessions so that Kailah only returns for a booster session now every 6 months or so. While she still identifies as an anxious person, Kailah has broadened her self-image to include her resilience and love of learning as core strengths.
Dr. Andrew J. Rosenfeld is an assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center, Burlington. He said he has no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. Am Psychol. 2000;55(1):5-14.
2. Am Psychol. 2007 Feb-Mar;62(2):95-108.
3. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry. 1999 Oct;38(10):1230-6.
4. Soc Indic Res. 2009; 39:247-66.
5. “Flourish: A visionary new understanding of happiness and well-being” (New York: Free Press, 2011).
6. “The Resilience Drive” (Switzerland: Favre, 2017).
7. Am Psychol. 2005 Jul-Aug;60(5):410-21.
Addressing the sexual and reproductive health needs of trans and gender nonconforming patients
Separating gender identity from sexual identity to allow for more comprehensive history-taking
Grouping the term “transgender” in the abbreviation LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) has historically been empowering for trans and gender nonconforming (GNC) persons. However, it also has contributed to the misunderstanding that gender identity is interchangeable with sexual identity. This common misconception can be a barrier to trans and GNC patients seeking care from ob.gyns. for their reproductive health needs.
By definition, gender identity refers to an internal experience of one’s gender, of one’s self.1 While gender identity has social implications, it ultimately is something that a person experiences independently of interactions with others. By contrast, sexual orientation has an explicitly relational underpinning because sexual orientation involves attraction to others. The distinction between gender identity and sexual orientation is similar to an internal-versus-external, or a self-versus-other dichotomy. A further nuance to add is that sexual behavior does not always reflect sexual orientation, and sexual behavior can vary along a wide spectrum when gender identity is added to the equation.
Overall, When approaching a sexual history with any patient, but especially a transgender or GNC patient, providers should think deeply about what information is medically relevant.2 The purpose of a sexual history is to identify behaviors that contribute to health risk, including pregnancy, sexually transmitted infection, and social problems such as sex-trafficking or intimate partner violence. The health care provider’s job is to ask questions that will uncover these risk factors.
With the advent of a more inclusive attitude toward gay and lesbian partnership, many providers already have learned to collect the sexual history without assuming the gender of a person’s sexual contacts. Still, when a provider is taking the sexual history, gender often is inappropriately used as proxy for the type of sex that a patient may be having. For example, a provider asking a cisgender woman about her sexual activity may ask, “how many sexual partners have you had in the last year?” But then, the provider may follow-up her response of “three sexual partners in the last year” by asking “men, women, or both?” By asking a patient if the patient’s sexual partners are “men, women, or both,” providers fail to accurately elucidate the risk factors that they are actually seeking when taking a sexual history. The cisgender woman from the above scenario may reply that she has been sleeping only with women for the last year, but if the sexual partners are transgender women, aka a woman who was assigned male at birth and therefore still may use her penis/testes for sexual purposes, then the patient actually may be at risk for pregnancy and may also have a different risk factor profile for sexually transmitted infections than if the patient were sexually active with cisgender women.
A different approach to using gender in taking the sexual history is to speak plainly about which sex organs come into contact during sexual activity. When patients identify as transgender or GNC, a provider first should start by asking them what language they would like providers to use when discussing sex organs.3 One example is that many trans men, both those who have undergone mastectomy as well as those who have not, may not use the word “breasts” to describe their “chests.” This distinction may make the difference between gaining and losing the trust of a trans/GNC patient in your clinic. After identifying how a patient would like to refer to sex organs, a provider can continue by asking which of the patient’s sex partners’ organs come into contact with the patient’s organs during sexual activity. Alternatively, starting with an even more broad line of questioning may be best for some patients, such as “how do you like to have sex?”
Carefully identifying the type of sex and what sex organs are involved has concrete medical implications. Patients assigned female at birth who are on hormone therapy with testosterone may need supportive care if they continue to use their vaginas in sexual encounters because testosterone can lead to a relatively hypoestrogenic state. Patients assigned male at birth who have undergone vaginoplasty procedures may need counseling about how to use and support their neovaginas as well as adjusted testing for dysplasia. Patients assigned female at birth who want to avoid pregnancy may need a nuanced consultation regarding contraception. These are just a few examples of how obstetrician-gynecologists can better support the sexual health of their trans/GNC patients by having an accurate understanding of how a trans/GNC person has sex.
Dr. Joyner is an assistant professor at Emory University, Atlanta, and is the director of gynecologic services in the Gender Center at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. Dr. Joyner identifies as a cisgender female and uses she/hers/her as her personal pronouns. Dr. Joey Bahng is a PGY-1 resident physician in Emory University’s gynecology & obstetrics residency program. Dr. Bahng identifies as nonbinary and uses they/them/their as their personal pronouns. Dr. Bahng and Dr. Joyner reported no relevant financial disclosures
References
1. Sexual orientation and gender identity definitions. Human Rights Campaign.
2. Taking a sexual history from transgender people. Transforming Health at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
3. Sexual health history: Talking sex with gender non-conforming and trans patients. National LGBT Health Education Center at The Fenway Institute.
Separating gender identity from sexual identity to allow for more comprehensive history-taking
Separating gender identity from sexual identity to allow for more comprehensive history-taking
Grouping the term “transgender” in the abbreviation LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) has historically been empowering for trans and gender nonconforming (GNC) persons. However, it also has contributed to the misunderstanding that gender identity is interchangeable with sexual identity. This common misconception can be a barrier to trans and GNC patients seeking care from ob.gyns. for their reproductive health needs.
By definition, gender identity refers to an internal experience of one’s gender, of one’s self.1 While gender identity has social implications, it ultimately is something that a person experiences independently of interactions with others. By contrast, sexual orientation has an explicitly relational underpinning because sexual orientation involves attraction to others. The distinction between gender identity and sexual orientation is similar to an internal-versus-external, or a self-versus-other dichotomy. A further nuance to add is that sexual behavior does not always reflect sexual orientation, and sexual behavior can vary along a wide spectrum when gender identity is added to the equation.
Overall, When approaching a sexual history with any patient, but especially a transgender or GNC patient, providers should think deeply about what information is medically relevant.2 The purpose of a sexual history is to identify behaviors that contribute to health risk, including pregnancy, sexually transmitted infection, and social problems such as sex-trafficking or intimate partner violence. The health care provider’s job is to ask questions that will uncover these risk factors.
With the advent of a more inclusive attitude toward gay and lesbian partnership, many providers already have learned to collect the sexual history without assuming the gender of a person’s sexual contacts. Still, when a provider is taking the sexual history, gender often is inappropriately used as proxy for the type of sex that a patient may be having. For example, a provider asking a cisgender woman about her sexual activity may ask, “how many sexual partners have you had in the last year?” But then, the provider may follow-up her response of “three sexual partners in the last year” by asking “men, women, or both?” By asking a patient if the patient’s sexual partners are “men, women, or both,” providers fail to accurately elucidate the risk factors that they are actually seeking when taking a sexual history. The cisgender woman from the above scenario may reply that she has been sleeping only with women for the last year, but if the sexual partners are transgender women, aka a woman who was assigned male at birth and therefore still may use her penis/testes for sexual purposes, then the patient actually may be at risk for pregnancy and may also have a different risk factor profile for sexually transmitted infections than if the patient were sexually active with cisgender women.
A different approach to using gender in taking the sexual history is to speak plainly about which sex organs come into contact during sexual activity. When patients identify as transgender or GNC, a provider first should start by asking them what language they would like providers to use when discussing sex organs.3 One example is that many trans men, both those who have undergone mastectomy as well as those who have not, may not use the word “breasts” to describe their “chests.” This distinction may make the difference between gaining and losing the trust of a trans/GNC patient in your clinic. After identifying how a patient would like to refer to sex organs, a provider can continue by asking which of the patient’s sex partners’ organs come into contact with the patient’s organs during sexual activity. Alternatively, starting with an even more broad line of questioning may be best for some patients, such as “how do you like to have sex?”
Carefully identifying the type of sex and what sex organs are involved has concrete medical implications. Patients assigned female at birth who are on hormone therapy with testosterone may need supportive care if they continue to use their vaginas in sexual encounters because testosterone can lead to a relatively hypoestrogenic state. Patients assigned male at birth who have undergone vaginoplasty procedures may need counseling about how to use and support their neovaginas as well as adjusted testing for dysplasia. Patients assigned female at birth who want to avoid pregnancy may need a nuanced consultation regarding contraception. These are just a few examples of how obstetrician-gynecologists can better support the sexual health of their trans/GNC patients by having an accurate understanding of how a trans/GNC person has sex.
Dr. Joyner is an assistant professor at Emory University, Atlanta, and is the director of gynecologic services in the Gender Center at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. Dr. Joyner identifies as a cisgender female and uses she/hers/her as her personal pronouns. Dr. Joey Bahng is a PGY-1 resident physician in Emory University’s gynecology & obstetrics residency program. Dr. Bahng identifies as nonbinary and uses they/them/their as their personal pronouns. Dr. Bahng and Dr. Joyner reported no relevant financial disclosures
References
1. Sexual orientation and gender identity definitions. Human Rights Campaign.
2. Taking a sexual history from transgender people. Transforming Health at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
3. Sexual health history: Talking sex with gender non-conforming and trans patients. National LGBT Health Education Center at The Fenway Institute.
Grouping the term “transgender” in the abbreviation LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) has historically been empowering for trans and gender nonconforming (GNC) persons. However, it also has contributed to the misunderstanding that gender identity is interchangeable with sexual identity. This common misconception can be a barrier to trans and GNC patients seeking care from ob.gyns. for their reproductive health needs.
By definition, gender identity refers to an internal experience of one’s gender, of one’s self.1 While gender identity has social implications, it ultimately is something that a person experiences independently of interactions with others. By contrast, sexual orientation has an explicitly relational underpinning because sexual orientation involves attraction to others. The distinction between gender identity and sexual orientation is similar to an internal-versus-external, or a self-versus-other dichotomy. A further nuance to add is that sexual behavior does not always reflect sexual orientation, and sexual behavior can vary along a wide spectrum when gender identity is added to the equation.
Overall, When approaching a sexual history with any patient, but especially a transgender or GNC patient, providers should think deeply about what information is medically relevant.2 The purpose of a sexual history is to identify behaviors that contribute to health risk, including pregnancy, sexually transmitted infection, and social problems such as sex-trafficking or intimate partner violence. The health care provider’s job is to ask questions that will uncover these risk factors.
With the advent of a more inclusive attitude toward gay and lesbian partnership, many providers already have learned to collect the sexual history without assuming the gender of a person’s sexual contacts. Still, when a provider is taking the sexual history, gender often is inappropriately used as proxy for the type of sex that a patient may be having. For example, a provider asking a cisgender woman about her sexual activity may ask, “how many sexual partners have you had in the last year?” But then, the provider may follow-up her response of “three sexual partners in the last year” by asking “men, women, or both?” By asking a patient if the patient’s sexual partners are “men, women, or both,” providers fail to accurately elucidate the risk factors that they are actually seeking when taking a sexual history. The cisgender woman from the above scenario may reply that she has been sleeping only with women for the last year, but if the sexual partners are transgender women, aka a woman who was assigned male at birth and therefore still may use her penis/testes for sexual purposes, then the patient actually may be at risk for pregnancy and may also have a different risk factor profile for sexually transmitted infections than if the patient were sexually active with cisgender women.
A different approach to using gender in taking the sexual history is to speak plainly about which sex organs come into contact during sexual activity. When patients identify as transgender or GNC, a provider first should start by asking them what language they would like providers to use when discussing sex organs.3 One example is that many trans men, both those who have undergone mastectomy as well as those who have not, may not use the word “breasts” to describe their “chests.” This distinction may make the difference between gaining and losing the trust of a trans/GNC patient in your clinic. After identifying how a patient would like to refer to sex organs, a provider can continue by asking which of the patient’s sex partners’ organs come into contact with the patient’s organs during sexual activity. Alternatively, starting with an even more broad line of questioning may be best for some patients, such as “how do you like to have sex?”
Carefully identifying the type of sex and what sex organs are involved has concrete medical implications. Patients assigned female at birth who are on hormone therapy with testosterone may need supportive care if they continue to use their vaginas in sexual encounters because testosterone can lead to a relatively hypoestrogenic state. Patients assigned male at birth who have undergone vaginoplasty procedures may need counseling about how to use and support their neovaginas as well as adjusted testing for dysplasia. Patients assigned female at birth who want to avoid pregnancy may need a nuanced consultation regarding contraception. These are just a few examples of how obstetrician-gynecologists can better support the sexual health of their trans/GNC patients by having an accurate understanding of how a trans/GNC person has sex.
Dr. Joyner is an assistant professor at Emory University, Atlanta, and is the director of gynecologic services in the Gender Center at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. Dr. Joyner identifies as a cisgender female and uses she/hers/her as her personal pronouns. Dr. Joey Bahng is a PGY-1 resident physician in Emory University’s gynecology & obstetrics residency program. Dr. Bahng identifies as nonbinary and uses they/them/their as their personal pronouns. Dr. Bahng and Dr. Joyner reported no relevant financial disclosures
References
1. Sexual orientation and gender identity definitions. Human Rights Campaign.
2. Taking a sexual history from transgender people. Transforming Health at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
3. Sexual health history: Talking sex with gender non-conforming and trans patients. National LGBT Health Education Center at The Fenway Institute.
Fear driven
I’m sometimes asked what was different about practicing pediatrics when I was at the apex of my clinical career. Colored by the recent memory of several painful adjustments to unworkable and time-gobbling electronic medical record systems, I usually answer, “It was more fun before the damn computer landed in my exam room.” However, an op-ed piece in the New York Times has prompted me to reconsider how the practice of medicine has changed over the last 50 years (“An Era Defined by Fear,” by David Brooks, April 29, 2019).
Mr. Brooks claims that the era in which we are living is defined by fear. He argues that beginning with the terrorist attacks of 9/11, fear has crept into every corner or our lives, influencing how we relate to one another and govern ourselves. Fueled by a media that feeds us “breaking news” at every hour of the day, we have become a country of people who see everything through the “dark filter” of fear.
I can recall monthly air raid drills during which my third-grade classmates and I scurried under our desks for what seemed hours. And I know my parents were concerned as polio swept through my hometown and the surrounding communities. But I don’t recall feeling the same omnipresent fear that I began to see over the last decade and a half of my practice.
Bombs never landed in Pleasantville, New York, and we knew our school was safe. Third graders today have been told that other third graders have been shot and killed in schools they thought were safe. I knew that there was a risk I might get my “bell rung” playing football. But neither my parents nor I worried that repeated concussions might hasten dementia. My parents and I knew that the weather was unpredictable, but we weren’t bombarded with warnings that the ocean might engulf our home or that the planet was dying.
I suspect my parents worried how I would find my way in the world, but not with the level of anxiety that I feel in parents today who are obsessed with their own fear of failure. And as David Brooks observes, “fear generates fear.” A fearful parent is likely to raise a fearful child. It’s not surprising that today’s pediatricians feel that their appointment lists are filled to the bursting point with patients who have mental health complaints, with anxiety and depression high on the list of diagnoses.
Foremost among our fears is the threat of malpractice litigation. We are coached in risk management strategies, and although we may not admit it, many of us are practicing defensive medicine, a scourge that appeared only infrequently in my first 2 decades of practice. While rumors always could tarnish a physician’s reputation in a small town, the damage done by Internet trolls wielding the power of social media can be several orders of magnitude more devastating.
Not surprisingly, physicians like to practice in comfortable surroundings, which of course draw other physicians, and in short order physicians can find themselves facing the fear of competition. Before insurance companies controlled the landscape, physicians didn’t have to worry about maintaining a stable panel of patients. Now a physician must worry that he or she may be delisted on the whim of a committee of number crunchers. Although I always was concerned on keeping current, my accreditation was grandfathered, and I didn’t have to worry about maintenance of certification (MOC) exams and deadlines. And of course I completed my education with what I considered at the time a whopping $3,200 of debt, but at an interest rate so low that we could make more money in CDs (certificates of deposit).
I wish I could end with something of more substance than Franklin Roosevelt’s advice that the only thing to fear is fear itself. But I’m afraid I can’t.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I’m sometimes asked what was different about practicing pediatrics when I was at the apex of my clinical career. Colored by the recent memory of several painful adjustments to unworkable and time-gobbling electronic medical record systems, I usually answer, “It was more fun before the damn computer landed in my exam room.” However, an op-ed piece in the New York Times has prompted me to reconsider how the practice of medicine has changed over the last 50 years (“An Era Defined by Fear,” by David Brooks, April 29, 2019).
Mr. Brooks claims that the era in which we are living is defined by fear. He argues that beginning with the terrorist attacks of 9/11, fear has crept into every corner or our lives, influencing how we relate to one another and govern ourselves. Fueled by a media that feeds us “breaking news” at every hour of the day, we have become a country of people who see everything through the “dark filter” of fear.
I can recall monthly air raid drills during which my third-grade classmates and I scurried under our desks for what seemed hours. And I know my parents were concerned as polio swept through my hometown and the surrounding communities. But I don’t recall feeling the same omnipresent fear that I began to see over the last decade and a half of my practice.
Bombs never landed in Pleasantville, New York, and we knew our school was safe. Third graders today have been told that other third graders have been shot and killed in schools they thought were safe. I knew that there was a risk I might get my “bell rung” playing football. But neither my parents nor I worried that repeated concussions might hasten dementia. My parents and I knew that the weather was unpredictable, but we weren’t bombarded with warnings that the ocean might engulf our home or that the planet was dying.
I suspect my parents worried how I would find my way in the world, but not with the level of anxiety that I feel in parents today who are obsessed with their own fear of failure. And as David Brooks observes, “fear generates fear.” A fearful parent is likely to raise a fearful child. It’s not surprising that today’s pediatricians feel that their appointment lists are filled to the bursting point with patients who have mental health complaints, with anxiety and depression high on the list of diagnoses.
Foremost among our fears is the threat of malpractice litigation. We are coached in risk management strategies, and although we may not admit it, many of us are practicing defensive medicine, a scourge that appeared only infrequently in my first 2 decades of practice. While rumors always could tarnish a physician’s reputation in a small town, the damage done by Internet trolls wielding the power of social media can be several orders of magnitude more devastating.
Not surprisingly, physicians like to practice in comfortable surroundings, which of course draw other physicians, and in short order physicians can find themselves facing the fear of competition. Before insurance companies controlled the landscape, physicians didn’t have to worry about maintaining a stable panel of patients. Now a physician must worry that he or she may be delisted on the whim of a committee of number crunchers. Although I always was concerned on keeping current, my accreditation was grandfathered, and I didn’t have to worry about maintenance of certification (MOC) exams and deadlines. And of course I completed my education with what I considered at the time a whopping $3,200 of debt, but at an interest rate so low that we could make more money in CDs (certificates of deposit).
I wish I could end with something of more substance than Franklin Roosevelt’s advice that the only thing to fear is fear itself. But I’m afraid I can’t.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I’m sometimes asked what was different about practicing pediatrics when I was at the apex of my clinical career. Colored by the recent memory of several painful adjustments to unworkable and time-gobbling electronic medical record systems, I usually answer, “It was more fun before the damn computer landed in my exam room.” However, an op-ed piece in the New York Times has prompted me to reconsider how the practice of medicine has changed over the last 50 years (“An Era Defined by Fear,” by David Brooks, April 29, 2019).
Mr. Brooks claims that the era in which we are living is defined by fear. He argues that beginning with the terrorist attacks of 9/11, fear has crept into every corner or our lives, influencing how we relate to one another and govern ourselves. Fueled by a media that feeds us “breaking news” at every hour of the day, we have become a country of people who see everything through the “dark filter” of fear.
I can recall monthly air raid drills during which my third-grade classmates and I scurried under our desks for what seemed hours. And I know my parents were concerned as polio swept through my hometown and the surrounding communities. But I don’t recall feeling the same omnipresent fear that I began to see over the last decade and a half of my practice.
Bombs never landed in Pleasantville, New York, and we knew our school was safe. Third graders today have been told that other third graders have been shot and killed in schools they thought were safe. I knew that there was a risk I might get my “bell rung” playing football. But neither my parents nor I worried that repeated concussions might hasten dementia. My parents and I knew that the weather was unpredictable, but we weren’t bombarded with warnings that the ocean might engulf our home or that the planet was dying.
I suspect my parents worried how I would find my way in the world, but not with the level of anxiety that I feel in parents today who are obsessed with their own fear of failure. And as David Brooks observes, “fear generates fear.” A fearful parent is likely to raise a fearful child. It’s not surprising that today’s pediatricians feel that their appointment lists are filled to the bursting point with patients who have mental health complaints, with anxiety and depression high on the list of diagnoses.
Foremost among our fears is the threat of malpractice litigation. We are coached in risk management strategies, and although we may not admit it, many of us are practicing defensive medicine, a scourge that appeared only infrequently in my first 2 decades of practice. While rumors always could tarnish a physician’s reputation in a small town, the damage done by Internet trolls wielding the power of social media can be several orders of magnitude more devastating.
Not surprisingly, physicians like to practice in comfortable surroundings, which of course draw other physicians, and in short order physicians can find themselves facing the fear of competition. Before insurance companies controlled the landscape, physicians didn’t have to worry about maintaining a stable panel of patients. Now a physician must worry that he or she may be delisted on the whim of a committee of number crunchers. Although I always was concerned on keeping current, my accreditation was grandfathered, and I didn’t have to worry about maintenance of certification (MOC) exams and deadlines. And of course I completed my education with what I considered at the time a whopping $3,200 of debt, but at an interest rate so low that we could make more money in CDs (certificates of deposit).
I wish I could end with something of more substance than Franklin Roosevelt’s advice that the only thing to fear is fear itself. But I’m afraid I can’t.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
The great sunscreen ingredient debate
In a commentary issued on May 6, the Food and Drug Administration stated that “with sunscreens now being used with greater frequency, in larger amounts, and by broader populations, it is more important than ever to ensure that sunscreens are safe and effective for daily, lifelong use.” The statement coincided with the publication of the randomized study, “Effect of sunscreen application under maximal use conditions on plasma concentrations of sunscreen active ingredients,” by Matta et al. of the FDA and others in JAMA (2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586). A maximal usage trial examines the systemic absorption of a topical drug when used according to the guidelines given for the product’s maximum usage. In this study, adult participants were randomized to one of four commercially available sunscreen products: spray 1 (n = 6), spray 2 (n = 6), a lotion (n = 6), and a cream (n = 6). Two mg of sunscreen per 1 cm2 was applied to 75% of body surface area four times per day for 4 days, and blood samples were collected from each individual over 7 days.
The FDA’s guidance for industry and proposed rule on OTC sunscreens state that active ingredients with systemic absorption at 0.5 ng/mL or higher or with possible safety concerns need to undergo further nonclinical toxicology assessment to evaluate risk of systemic carcinogenicity, developmental/reproductive abnormalities, or other adverse effects.
Absorption of some sunscreen ingredients has been detected in other studies. Despite systemic absorption, two active ingredients – zinc oxide and titanium dioxide – have been found by the FDA to be generally recognized as safe and effective. But for 12 other active ingredients (cinoxate, dioxybenzone, ensulizole, homosalate, meradimate, octinoxate, octisalate, octocrylene, padimate O, sulisobenzone, oxybenzone, and avobenzone), there are insufficient data to make a “generally recognized as safe and effective” determination; thus, more data have been requested from the manufacturers. While physical blocking sunscreens have improved in their UV-blocking ability without compromising cosmesis over the past several years, some sunscreens containing chemical blockers are able to achieve higher SPFs with good cosmesis when applied to the skin.
Our skin acts as the ultimate barrier between ourselves and the environment, and it is not uncommon for substances to be blocked, absorbed, or excreted from the skin. Absorption of an ingredient through the skin and into the body does not indicate that the ingredient is unsafe. Rather, findings such as these call for further testing and research to determine the safety of that ingredient with repeated use. Per the FDA, such testing is part of the standard premarket safety evaluation of most chronically administered drugs with appreciable systemic absorption.
In February 2019, the FDA’s proposed rule was issued to “update regulatory requirements for most sunscreen products in the United States,” with the goal of bringing OTC sunscreens “up to date with the latest scientific standards,” according to the FDA May 6 commentary. “As part of this rule, the FDA is asking industry and other interested parties for additional safety data on the 12 active sunscreen ingredients currently available in marketed products” mentioned previously. These rules are being put into place to address the “key data gap” for these 12 ingredients, which is “understanding whether, and to what extent the ingredient is absorbed into the body after topical application.”
In other previously published studies, oxybenzone, along with some other sunscreen active ingredients including octocrylene, have been found in human breast milk. In addition, oxybenzone has been detected in amniotic fluid, urine, and blood. Whether these findings have any clinical implications needs to be further assessed. Some studies in the literature have raised questions about the potential for oxybenzone to affect endocrine activity.
Another issue that has been raised is the potential impact of sunscreen on the environment, specifically, coral reefs. In July 2018, Hawaii Governor David Ige (D) signed a bill (SB 2571) that bans the sale of sunscreens containing oxybenzone and octinoxate beginning in 2021, making Hawaii the first state to ban the sale of sunscreens containing these two chemicals. Shortly afterward, the Republic of Palau and city of Key West, Fla., also took action to ban sunscreens containing chemicals potentially harmful to marine life. In Hawaii, what’s know as “reef safe” sunscreen is sold.
More research in this area is needed, but studies have linked these ingredients to harming coral by bleaching, disease, and damage to DNA, and also to decreasing fertility in fish, impairing algae growth, inducing defects in mussel and sea urchin young, and accumulating in the tissues of dolphins. According to NASA, as much as 27% of monitored reef formation have already been lost and over the following 32 years, 32% more are at risk. Reefs cover a mere 0.2% of the ocean’s floor, but it is estimated that reefs are home to and protect nearly 1 million species of fish, invertebrates, and algae.
In early May, Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii) and Sen. Tim Ryan (D-Ohio) introduced legislation known as the Oxybenzone and Octinoxate Impact Study Act of 2019 (H.R. 2588) to require the Environmental Protection Agency to study the impact of those two chemicals on human health and the environment and to provide findings to Congress and the public within 18 months.
The importance of sun protection and prevention of sunburns is paramount. We know that multiple sunburn events during childhood double a child’s risk of developing skin cancer later in life, and skin cancer is the most common cancer diagnosed in the United States, with 5 million cases treated every year. One in five Americans will develop skin cancer by age 70 years.
As a Mohs and a cosmetic dermatologic surgeon, I appreciate the unquestionable protective effects of sunscreen products with regards to skin cancer, dyspigmentation, solar elastosis, and rhytids associated with photoaging. We can applaud the FDA for improving testing and regulation of OTC ingredients, including those in sunscreen. These types of studies are important and monumental in ensuring that we are utilizing the right type of ingredients to protect our patients, our oceans, and our reefs.
Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are co-contributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Wesley. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.
References
- Matta MK et al. JAMA. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586.
- Shedding new light on sunscreen absorption, by Janet Woodcock, MD, director, Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, and Theresa M. Michele, MD, director, CDER’s Division of Nonprescription Drug Products, Office of New Drugs
- Food and Drug Administration. Sunscreen drug products for over-the-counter human use: Proposed rule. Fed Regist. 2019;84(38):6204-75.
- Schlumpf M et al. Chemosphere. 2010 Nov;81(10):1171-83.
- Krause M et al. Int J Androl. 2012 Jun;35(3):424-36.
In a commentary issued on May 6, the Food and Drug Administration stated that “with sunscreens now being used with greater frequency, in larger amounts, and by broader populations, it is more important than ever to ensure that sunscreens are safe and effective for daily, lifelong use.” The statement coincided with the publication of the randomized study, “Effect of sunscreen application under maximal use conditions on plasma concentrations of sunscreen active ingredients,” by Matta et al. of the FDA and others in JAMA (2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586). A maximal usage trial examines the systemic absorption of a topical drug when used according to the guidelines given for the product’s maximum usage. In this study, adult participants were randomized to one of four commercially available sunscreen products: spray 1 (n = 6), spray 2 (n = 6), a lotion (n = 6), and a cream (n = 6). Two mg of sunscreen per 1 cm2 was applied to 75% of body surface area four times per day for 4 days, and blood samples were collected from each individual over 7 days.
The FDA’s guidance for industry and proposed rule on OTC sunscreens state that active ingredients with systemic absorption at 0.5 ng/mL or higher or with possible safety concerns need to undergo further nonclinical toxicology assessment to evaluate risk of systemic carcinogenicity, developmental/reproductive abnormalities, or other adverse effects.
Absorption of some sunscreen ingredients has been detected in other studies. Despite systemic absorption, two active ingredients – zinc oxide and titanium dioxide – have been found by the FDA to be generally recognized as safe and effective. But for 12 other active ingredients (cinoxate, dioxybenzone, ensulizole, homosalate, meradimate, octinoxate, octisalate, octocrylene, padimate O, sulisobenzone, oxybenzone, and avobenzone), there are insufficient data to make a “generally recognized as safe and effective” determination; thus, more data have been requested from the manufacturers. While physical blocking sunscreens have improved in their UV-blocking ability without compromising cosmesis over the past several years, some sunscreens containing chemical blockers are able to achieve higher SPFs with good cosmesis when applied to the skin.
Our skin acts as the ultimate barrier between ourselves and the environment, and it is not uncommon for substances to be blocked, absorbed, or excreted from the skin. Absorption of an ingredient through the skin and into the body does not indicate that the ingredient is unsafe. Rather, findings such as these call for further testing and research to determine the safety of that ingredient with repeated use. Per the FDA, such testing is part of the standard premarket safety evaluation of most chronically administered drugs with appreciable systemic absorption.
In February 2019, the FDA’s proposed rule was issued to “update regulatory requirements for most sunscreen products in the United States,” with the goal of bringing OTC sunscreens “up to date with the latest scientific standards,” according to the FDA May 6 commentary. “As part of this rule, the FDA is asking industry and other interested parties for additional safety data on the 12 active sunscreen ingredients currently available in marketed products” mentioned previously. These rules are being put into place to address the “key data gap” for these 12 ingredients, which is “understanding whether, and to what extent the ingredient is absorbed into the body after topical application.”
In other previously published studies, oxybenzone, along with some other sunscreen active ingredients including octocrylene, have been found in human breast milk. In addition, oxybenzone has been detected in amniotic fluid, urine, and blood. Whether these findings have any clinical implications needs to be further assessed. Some studies in the literature have raised questions about the potential for oxybenzone to affect endocrine activity.
Another issue that has been raised is the potential impact of sunscreen on the environment, specifically, coral reefs. In July 2018, Hawaii Governor David Ige (D) signed a bill (SB 2571) that bans the sale of sunscreens containing oxybenzone and octinoxate beginning in 2021, making Hawaii the first state to ban the sale of sunscreens containing these two chemicals. Shortly afterward, the Republic of Palau and city of Key West, Fla., also took action to ban sunscreens containing chemicals potentially harmful to marine life. In Hawaii, what’s know as “reef safe” sunscreen is sold.
More research in this area is needed, but studies have linked these ingredients to harming coral by bleaching, disease, and damage to DNA, and also to decreasing fertility in fish, impairing algae growth, inducing defects in mussel and sea urchin young, and accumulating in the tissues of dolphins. According to NASA, as much as 27% of monitored reef formation have already been lost and over the following 32 years, 32% more are at risk. Reefs cover a mere 0.2% of the ocean’s floor, but it is estimated that reefs are home to and protect nearly 1 million species of fish, invertebrates, and algae.
In early May, Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii) and Sen. Tim Ryan (D-Ohio) introduced legislation known as the Oxybenzone and Octinoxate Impact Study Act of 2019 (H.R. 2588) to require the Environmental Protection Agency to study the impact of those two chemicals on human health and the environment and to provide findings to Congress and the public within 18 months.
The importance of sun protection and prevention of sunburns is paramount. We know that multiple sunburn events during childhood double a child’s risk of developing skin cancer later in life, and skin cancer is the most common cancer diagnosed in the United States, with 5 million cases treated every year. One in five Americans will develop skin cancer by age 70 years.
As a Mohs and a cosmetic dermatologic surgeon, I appreciate the unquestionable protective effects of sunscreen products with regards to skin cancer, dyspigmentation, solar elastosis, and rhytids associated with photoaging. We can applaud the FDA for improving testing and regulation of OTC ingredients, including those in sunscreen. These types of studies are important and monumental in ensuring that we are utilizing the right type of ingredients to protect our patients, our oceans, and our reefs.
Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are co-contributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Wesley. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.
References
- Matta MK et al. JAMA. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586.
- Shedding new light on sunscreen absorption, by Janet Woodcock, MD, director, Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, and Theresa M. Michele, MD, director, CDER’s Division of Nonprescription Drug Products, Office of New Drugs
- Food and Drug Administration. Sunscreen drug products for over-the-counter human use: Proposed rule. Fed Regist. 2019;84(38):6204-75.
- Schlumpf M et al. Chemosphere. 2010 Nov;81(10):1171-83.
- Krause M et al. Int J Androl. 2012 Jun;35(3):424-36.
In a commentary issued on May 6, the Food and Drug Administration stated that “with sunscreens now being used with greater frequency, in larger amounts, and by broader populations, it is more important than ever to ensure that sunscreens are safe and effective for daily, lifelong use.” The statement coincided with the publication of the randomized study, “Effect of sunscreen application under maximal use conditions on plasma concentrations of sunscreen active ingredients,” by Matta et al. of the FDA and others in JAMA (2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586). A maximal usage trial examines the systemic absorption of a topical drug when used according to the guidelines given for the product’s maximum usage. In this study, adult participants were randomized to one of four commercially available sunscreen products: spray 1 (n = 6), spray 2 (n = 6), a lotion (n = 6), and a cream (n = 6). Two mg of sunscreen per 1 cm2 was applied to 75% of body surface area four times per day for 4 days, and blood samples were collected from each individual over 7 days.
The FDA’s guidance for industry and proposed rule on OTC sunscreens state that active ingredients with systemic absorption at 0.5 ng/mL or higher or with possible safety concerns need to undergo further nonclinical toxicology assessment to evaluate risk of systemic carcinogenicity, developmental/reproductive abnormalities, or other adverse effects.
Absorption of some sunscreen ingredients has been detected in other studies. Despite systemic absorption, two active ingredients – zinc oxide and titanium dioxide – have been found by the FDA to be generally recognized as safe and effective. But for 12 other active ingredients (cinoxate, dioxybenzone, ensulizole, homosalate, meradimate, octinoxate, octisalate, octocrylene, padimate O, sulisobenzone, oxybenzone, and avobenzone), there are insufficient data to make a “generally recognized as safe and effective” determination; thus, more data have been requested from the manufacturers. While physical blocking sunscreens have improved in their UV-blocking ability without compromising cosmesis over the past several years, some sunscreens containing chemical blockers are able to achieve higher SPFs with good cosmesis when applied to the skin.
Our skin acts as the ultimate barrier between ourselves and the environment, and it is not uncommon for substances to be blocked, absorbed, or excreted from the skin. Absorption of an ingredient through the skin and into the body does not indicate that the ingredient is unsafe. Rather, findings such as these call for further testing and research to determine the safety of that ingredient with repeated use. Per the FDA, such testing is part of the standard premarket safety evaluation of most chronically administered drugs with appreciable systemic absorption.
In February 2019, the FDA’s proposed rule was issued to “update regulatory requirements for most sunscreen products in the United States,” with the goal of bringing OTC sunscreens “up to date with the latest scientific standards,” according to the FDA May 6 commentary. “As part of this rule, the FDA is asking industry and other interested parties for additional safety data on the 12 active sunscreen ingredients currently available in marketed products” mentioned previously. These rules are being put into place to address the “key data gap” for these 12 ingredients, which is “understanding whether, and to what extent the ingredient is absorbed into the body after topical application.”
In other previously published studies, oxybenzone, along with some other sunscreen active ingredients including octocrylene, have been found in human breast milk. In addition, oxybenzone has been detected in amniotic fluid, urine, and blood. Whether these findings have any clinical implications needs to be further assessed. Some studies in the literature have raised questions about the potential for oxybenzone to affect endocrine activity.
Another issue that has been raised is the potential impact of sunscreen on the environment, specifically, coral reefs. In July 2018, Hawaii Governor David Ige (D) signed a bill (SB 2571) that bans the sale of sunscreens containing oxybenzone and octinoxate beginning in 2021, making Hawaii the first state to ban the sale of sunscreens containing these two chemicals. Shortly afterward, the Republic of Palau and city of Key West, Fla., also took action to ban sunscreens containing chemicals potentially harmful to marine life. In Hawaii, what’s know as “reef safe” sunscreen is sold.
More research in this area is needed, but studies have linked these ingredients to harming coral by bleaching, disease, and damage to DNA, and also to decreasing fertility in fish, impairing algae growth, inducing defects in mussel and sea urchin young, and accumulating in the tissues of dolphins. According to NASA, as much as 27% of monitored reef formation have already been lost and over the following 32 years, 32% more are at risk. Reefs cover a mere 0.2% of the ocean’s floor, but it is estimated that reefs are home to and protect nearly 1 million species of fish, invertebrates, and algae.
In early May, Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii) and Sen. Tim Ryan (D-Ohio) introduced legislation known as the Oxybenzone and Octinoxate Impact Study Act of 2019 (H.R. 2588) to require the Environmental Protection Agency to study the impact of those two chemicals on human health and the environment and to provide findings to Congress and the public within 18 months.
The importance of sun protection and prevention of sunburns is paramount. We know that multiple sunburn events during childhood double a child’s risk of developing skin cancer later in life, and skin cancer is the most common cancer diagnosed in the United States, with 5 million cases treated every year. One in five Americans will develop skin cancer by age 70 years.
As a Mohs and a cosmetic dermatologic surgeon, I appreciate the unquestionable protective effects of sunscreen products with regards to skin cancer, dyspigmentation, solar elastosis, and rhytids associated with photoaging. We can applaud the FDA for improving testing and regulation of OTC ingredients, including those in sunscreen. These types of studies are important and monumental in ensuring that we are utilizing the right type of ingredients to protect our patients, our oceans, and our reefs.
Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are co-contributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Wesley. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.
References
- Matta MK et al. JAMA. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1001/jama.2019.5586.
- Shedding new light on sunscreen absorption, by Janet Woodcock, MD, director, Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, and Theresa M. Michele, MD, director, CDER’s Division of Nonprescription Drug Products, Office of New Drugs
- Food and Drug Administration. Sunscreen drug products for over-the-counter human use: Proposed rule. Fed Regist. 2019;84(38):6204-75.
- Schlumpf M et al. Chemosphere. 2010 Nov;81(10):1171-83.
- Krause M et al. Int J Androl. 2012 Jun;35(3):424-36.