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‘Empathy fatigue’ in clinicians rises with latest COVID-19 surge
Heidi Erickson, MD, is tired. As a pulmonary and critical care physician at Hennepin Healthcare in Minneapolis, she has been providing care for patients with COVID-19 since the start of the pandemic.
It was exhausting from the beginning, as she and her colleagues scrambled to understand how to deal with this new disease. But lately, she has noticed a different kind of exhaustion arising from the knowledge that with vaccines widely available, the latest surge was preventable.
Her intensive care unit is currently as full as it has ever been with COVID-19 patients, many of them young adults and most of them unvaccinated. After the recent death of one patient, an unvaccinated man with teenage children, she had to face his family’s questions about why ivermectin, an antiparasitic medication that was falsely promoted as a COVID-19 treatment, was not administered.
“I’m fatigued because I’m working more than ever, but more people don’t have to die,” Dr. Erickson said in an interview . “It’s been very hard physically, mentally, emotionally.”
Amid yet another surge in COVID-19 cases around the United States, clinicians are speaking out about their growing frustration with this preventable crisis.
Some are using the terms “empathy fatigue” and “compassion fatigue” – a sense that they are losing empathy for unvaccinated individuals who are fueling the pandemic.
Dr. Erickson says she is frustrated not by individual patients but by a system that has allowed disinformation to proliferate. Experts say these types of feelings fit into a widespread pattern of physician burnout that has taken a new turn at this stage of the pandemic.
Paradoxical choices
Empathy is a cornerstone of what clinicians do, and the ability to understand and share a patient’s feelings is an essential skill for providing effective care, says Kaz Nelson, MD, a psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis.
Practitioners face paradoxical situations all the time, she notes. These include individuals who break bones and go skydiving again, people who have high cholesterol but continue to eat fried foods, and those with advanced lung cancer who continue to smoke.
To treat patients with compassion, practitioners learn to set aside judgment by acknowledging the complexity of human behavior. They may lament the addictive nature of nicotine and advertising that targets children, for example, while still listening and caring.
Empathy requires high-level brain function, but as stress levels rise, brain function that drives empathy tends to shut down. It’s a survival mechanism, Dr. Nelson says.
When health care workers feel overwhelmed, trapped, or threatened by patients demanding unproven treatments or by ICUs with more patients than ventilators, they may experience a fight-or-flight response that makes them defensive, frustrated, angry, or uncaring, notes Mona Masood, DO, a Philadelphia-area psychiatrist and founder of Physician Support Line, a free mental health hotline for doctors.
Some clinicians have taken to Twitter and other social media platforms to post about these types of experiences.
These feelings, which have been brewing for months, have been exacerbated by the complexity of the current situation. Clinicians see a disconnect between what is and what could be, Dr. Nelson notes.
“Prior to vaccines, there weren’t other options, and so we had toxic stress and we had fatigue, but we could still maintain little bits of empathy by saying, ‘You know, people didn’t choose to get infected, and we are in a pandemic.’ We could kind of hate the virus. Now with access to vaccines, that last connection to empathy is removed for many people,” she says.
Self-preservation vs. empathy
Compassion fatigue or empathy fatigue is just one reaction to feeling completely maxed out and overstressed, Dr. Nelson says. Anger at society, such as what Dr. Erickson experienced, is another response.
Practitioners may also feel as if they are just going through the motions of their job, or they might disassociate, ceasing to feel that their patients are human. Plenty of doctors and nurses have cried in their cars after shifts and have posted tearful videos on social media.
Early in the pandemic, Dr. Masood says, physicians who called the support hotline expressed sadness and grief. Now, she had her colleagues hear frustration and anger, along with guilt and shame for having feelings they believe they shouldn’t be having, especially toward patients. They may feel unprofessional or worse – unworthy of being physicians, she says.
One recent caller to the hotline was a long-time ICU physician who had been told so many times by patients that ivermectin was the only medicine that would cure them that he began to doubt himself, says Dr. Masood. This caller needed to be reassured by another physician that he was doing the right thing.
Another emergency department physician told Dr. Masood about a young child who had arrived at the hospital with COVID-19 symptoms. When asked whether the family had been exposed to anyone with COVID-19, the child’s parent lied so that they could be triaged faster.
The physician, who needed to step away from the situation, reached out to Dr. Masood to express her frustration so that she wouldn’t “let it out” on the patient.
“It’s hard to have empathy for people who, for all intents and purposes, are very self-centered,” Dr. Masood says. “We’re at a place where we’re having to choose between self-preservation and empathy.”
How to cope
To help practitioners cope, Dr. Masood offers words that describe what they’re experiencing. She often hears clinicians say things such as, “This is a type of burnout that I feel to my bones,” or “This makes me want to quit,” or “I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”
She encourages them to consider the terms “empathy fatigue,” and “moral injury” in order to reconcile how their sense of responsibility to take care of people is compromised by factors outside of their control.
It is not shameful to acknowledge that they experience emotions, including difficult ones such as frustration, anger, sadness, and anxiety, Dr. Masood adds.
Being frustrated with a patient doesn’t make someone a bad doctor, and admitting those emotions is the first step toward dealing with them, she says.
before they cause a sense of callousness or other consequences that become harder to heal from as time goes on.
“We’re trained to just go, go, go and sometimes not pause and check in,” she says. Clinicians who open up are likely to find they are not the only ones feeling tired or frustrated right now, she adds.
“Connect with peers and colleagues, because chances are, they can relate,” Dr. Nelson says.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Heidi Erickson, MD, is tired. As a pulmonary and critical care physician at Hennepin Healthcare in Minneapolis, she has been providing care for patients with COVID-19 since the start of the pandemic.
It was exhausting from the beginning, as she and her colleagues scrambled to understand how to deal with this new disease. But lately, she has noticed a different kind of exhaustion arising from the knowledge that with vaccines widely available, the latest surge was preventable.
Her intensive care unit is currently as full as it has ever been with COVID-19 patients, many of them young adults and most of them unvaccinated. After the recent death of one patient, an unvaccinated man with teenage children, she had to face his family’s questions about why ivermectin, an antiparasitic medication that was falsely promoted as a COVID-19 treatment, was not administered.
“I’m fatigued because I’m working more than ever, but more people don’t have to die,” Dr. Erickson said in an interview . “It’s been very hard physically, mentally, emotionally.”
Amid yet another surge in COVID-19 cases around the United States, clinicians are speaking out about their growing frustration with this preventable crisis.
Some are using the terms “empathy fatigue” and “compassion fatigue” – a sense that they are losing empathy for unvaccinated individuals who are fueling the pandemic.
Dr. Erickson says she is frustrated not by individual patients but by a system that has allowed disinformation to proliferate. Experts say these types of feelings fit into a widespread pattern of physician burnout that has taken a new turn at this stage of the pandemic.
Paradoxical choices
Empathy is a cornerstone of what clinicians do, and the ability to understand and share a patient’s feelings is an essential skill for providing effective care, says Kaz Nelson, MD, a psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis.
Practitioners face paradoxical situations all the time, she notes. These include individuals who break bones and go skydiving again, people who have high cholesterol but continue to eat fried foods, and those with advanced lung cancer who continue to smoke.
To treat patients with compassion, practitioners learn to set aside judgment by acknowledging the complexity of human behavior. They may lament the addictive nature of nicotine and advertising that targets children, for example, while still listening and caring.
Empathy requires high-level brain function, but as stress levels rise, brain function that drives empathy tends to shut down. It’s a survival mechanism, Dr. Nelson says.
When health care workers feel overwhelmed, trapped, or threatened by patients demanding unproven treatments or by ICUs with more patients than ventilators, they may experience a fight-or-flight response that makes them defensive, frustrated, angry, or uncaring, notes Mona Masood, DO, a Philadelphia-area psychiatrist and founder of Physician Support Line, a free mental health hotline for doctors.
Some clinicians have taken to Twitter and other social media platforms to post about these types of experiences.
These feelings, which have been brewing for months, have been exacerbated by the complexity of the current situation. Clinicians see a disconnect between what is and what could be, Dr. Nelson notes.
“Prior to vaccines, there weren’t other options, and so we had toxic stress and we had fatigue, but we could still maintain little bits of empathy by saying, ‘You know, people didn’t choose to get infected, and we are in a pandemic.’ We could kind of hate the virus. Now with access to vaccines, that last connection to empathy is removed for many people,” she says.
Self-preservation vs. empathy
Compassion fatigue or empathy fatigue is just one reaction to feeling completely maxed out and overstressed, Dr. Nelson says. Anger at society, such as what Dr. Erickson experienced, is another response.
Practitioners may also feel as if they are just going through the motions of their job, or they might disassociate, ceasing to feel that their patients are human. Plenty of doctors and nurses have cried in their cars after shifts and have posted tearful videos on social media.
Early in the pandemic, Dr. Masood says, physicians who called the support hotline expressed sadness and grief. Now, she had her colleagues hear frustration and anger, along with guilt and shame for having feelings they believe they shouldn’t be having, especially toward patients. They may feel unprofessional or worse – unworthy of being physicians, she says.
One recent caller to the hotline was a long-time ICU physician who had been told so many times by patients that ivermectin was the only medicine that would cure them that he began to doubt himself, says Dr. Masood. This caller needed to be reassured by another physician that he was doing the right thing.
Another emergency department physician told Dr. Masood about a young child who had arrived at the hospital with COVID-19 symptoms. When asked whether the family had been exposed to anyone with COVID-19, the child’s parent lied so that they could be triaged faster.
The physician, who needed to step away from the situation, reached out to Dr. Masood to express her frustration so that she wouldn’t “let it out” on the patient.
“It’s hard to have empathy for people who, for all intents and purposes, are very self-centered,” Dr. Masood says. “We’re at a place where we’re having to choose between self-preservation and empathy.”
How to cope
To help practitioners cope, Dr. Masood offers words that describe what they’re experiencing. She often hears clinicians say things such as, “This is a type of burnout that I feel to my bones,” or “This makes me want to quit,” or “I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”
She encourages them to consider the terms “empathy fatigue,” and “moral injury” in order to reconcile how their sense of responsibility to take care of people is compromised by factors outside of their control.
It is not shameful to acknowledge that they experience emotions, including difficult ones such as frustration, anger, sadness, and anxiety, Dr. Masood adds.
Being frustrated with a patient doesn’t make someone a bad doctor, and admitting those emotions is the first step toward dealing with them, she says.
before they cause a sense of callousness or other consequences that become harder to heal from as time goes on.
“We’re trained to just go, go, go and sometimes not pause and check in,” she says. Clinicians who open up are likely to find they are not the only ones feeling tired or frustrated right now, she adds.
“Connect with peers and colleagues, because chances are, they can relate,” Dr. Nelson says.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Heidi Erickson, MD, is tired. As a pulmonary and critical care physician at Hennepin Healthcare in Minneapolis, she has been providing care for patients with COVID-19 since the start of the pandemic.
It was exhausting from the beginning, as she and her colleagues scrambled to understand how to deal with this new disease. But lately, she has noticed a different kind of exhaustion arising from the knowledge that with vaccines widely available, the latest surge was preventable.
Her intensive care unit is currently as full as it has ever been with COVID-19 patients, many of them young adults and most of them unvaccinated. After the recent death of one patient, an unvaccinated man with teenage children, she had to face his family’s questions about why ivermectin, an antiparasitic medication that was falsely promoted as a COVID-19 treatment, was not administered.
“I’m fatigued because I’m working more than ever, but more people don’t have to die,” Dr. Erickson said in an interview . “It’s been very hard physically, mentally, emotionally.”
Amid yet another surge in COVID-19 cases around the United States, clinicians are speaking out about their growing frustration with this preventable crisis.
Some are using the terms “empathy fatigue” and “compassion fatigue” – a sense that they are losing empathy for unvaccinated individuals who are fueling the pandemic.
Dr. Erickson says she is frustrated not by individual patients but by a system that has allowed disinformation to proliferate. Experts say these types of feelings fit into a widespread pattern of physician burnout that has taken a new turn at this stage of the pandemic.
Paradoxical choices
Empathy is a cornerstone of what clinicians do, and the ability to understand and share a patient’s feelings is an essential skill for providing effective care, says Kaz Nelson, MD, a psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis.
Practitioners face paradoxical situations all the time, she notes. These include individuals who break bones and go skydiving again, people who have high cholesterol but continue to eat fried foods, and those with advanced lung cancer who continue to smoke.
To treat patients with compassion, practitioners learn to set aside judgment by acknowledging the complexity of human behavior. They may lament the addictive nature of nicotine and advertising that targets children, for example, while still listening and caring.
Empathy requires high-level brain function, but as stress levels rise, brain function that drives empathy tends to shut down. It’s a survival mechanism, Dr. Nelson says.
When health care workers feel overwhelmed, trapped, or threatened by patients demanding unproven treatments or by ICUs with more patients than ventilators, they may experience a fight-or-flight response that makes them defensive, frustrated, angry, or uncaring, notes Mona Masood, DO, a Philadelphia-area psychiatrist and founder of Physician Support Line, a free mental health hotline for doctors.
Some clinicians have taken to Twitter and other social media platforms to post about these types of experiences.
These feelings, which have been brewing for months, have been exacerbated by the complexity of the current situation. Clinicians see a disconnect between what is and what could be, Dr. Nelson notes.
“Prior to vaccines, there weren’t other options, and so we had toxic stress and we had fatigue, but we could still maintain little bits of empathy by saying, ‘You know, people didn’t choose to get infected, and we are in a pandemic.’ We could kind of hate the virus. Now with access to vaccines, that last connection to empathy is removed for many people,” she says.
Self-preservation vs. empathy
Compassion fatigue or empathy fatigue is just one reaction to feeling completely maxed out and overstressed, Dr. Nelson says. Anger at society, such as what Dr. Erickson experienced, is another response.
Practitioners may also feel as if they are just going through the motions of their job, or they might disassociate, ceasing to feel that their patients are human. Plenty of doctors and nurses have cried in their cars after shifts and have posted tearful videos on social media.
Early in the pandemic, Dr. Masood says, physicians who called the support hotline expressed sadness and grief. Now, she had her colleagues hear frustration and anger, along with guilt and shame for having feelings they believe they shouldn’t be having, especially toward patients. They may feel unprofessional or worse – unworthy of being physicians, she says.
One recent caller to the hotline was a long-time ICU physician who had been told so many times by patients that ivermectin was the only medicine that would cure them that he began to doubt himself, says Dr. Masood. This caller needed to be reassured by another physician that he was doing the right thing.
Another emergency department physician told Dr. Masood about a young child who had arrived at the hospital with COVID-19 symptoms. When asked whether the family had been exposed to anyone with COVID-19, the child’s parent lied so that they could be triaged faster.
The physician, who needed to step away from the situation, reached out to Dr. Masood to express her frustration so that she wouldn’t “let it out” on the patient.
“It’s hard to have empathy for people who, for all intents and purposes, are very self-centered,” Dr. Masood says. “We’re at a place where we’re having to choose between self-preservation and empathy.”
How to cope
To help practitioners cope, Dr. Masood offers words that describe what they’re experiencing. She often hears clinicians say things such as, “This is a type of burnout that I feel to my bones,” or “This makes me want to quit,” or “I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”
She encourages them to consider the terms “empathy fatigue,” and “moral injury” in order to reconcile how their sense of responsibility to take care of people is compromised by factors outside of their control.
It is not shameful to acknowledge that they experience emotions, including difficult ones such as frustration, anger, sadness, and anxiety, Dr. Masood adds.
Being frustrated with a patient doesn’t make someone a bad doctor, and admitting those emotions is the first step toward dealing with them, she says.
before they cause a sense of callousness or other consequences that become harder to heal from as time goes on.
“We’re trained to just go, go, go and sometimes not pause and check in,” she says. Clinicians who open up are likely to find they are not the only ones feeling tired or frustrated right now, she adds.
“Connect with peers and colleagues, because chances are, they can relate,” Dr. Nelson says.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Pandemic goal deficiency disorder
In August I shared with you my observations on two opposing op-ed pieces from two major newspapers, one was in favor of masking mandates for public schools, the other against. (Masking in school: A battle of the op-eds. MDedge Pediatrics. Letters from Maine, 2021 Aug 12). Neither group of authors could offer us evidence from controlled studies to support their views. However, both agreed that returning children to school deserves a high priority. But neither the authors nor I treaded into the uncharted waters of exactly how masking fits into our national goals for managing the pandemic because ... no one in this country has articulated what these goals should be. A third op-ed appearing 3 weeks later suggests why we are floundering in this goal-deficient limbo.
Writing in the New York Times, two epidemiologists in Boston ask the simple question: “What are we actually trying to achieve in the United States?” when it comes to the pandemic. (Allen AG and Jenkins H. The Hard Covid-19 Questions We’re Not Asking. 2021 Aug 30). Is our goal zero infections? Is it hammering on the virus until we can treat it like the seasonal flu? We do seem to agree that not having kids in school has been a disaster economically, educationally, and psychologically. But, where does the goal of getting them back in school fit into a larger and as yet undefined national goal? Without that target we have little idea of what compromises and risks we should be willing to accept.
How much serious pediatric disease is acceptable? It appears that the number of fatal complications in the pediatric population is very small in comparison with other demographic groups. Although few in number, there have been and there will continue to be pediatric deaths because of COVID. Is our goal zero pediatric deaths? If it is then this dictates a level of response that ripples back upstream to every child in every classroom and could threaten our overarching goal of returning children to school. Because none of us likes the thought of a child dying, some of us may be hesitant to even consider a strategy that doesn’t include zero pediatric deaths as a goal.
Are we looking to have zero serious pediatric infections? Achieving this goal is unlikely. Even if we develop a pediatric vaccine in the near future it probably won’t be in the arms of enough children by the end of this school year to make a significant dent in the number of serious pediatric infections. Waiting until an optimal number of children are immunized doesn’t feel like it will achieve a primary goal of getting kids back in school if we continue to focus on driving the level of serious pediatric infections to zero. We have already endured a year in which many communities made decisions that seemed to have prioritized an unstated goal of no school exposure–related educator deaths. Again, a goal based on little if any evidence.
The problem we face in this country is that our response to the pandemic has been nonuniform. Here in Brunswick, Maine, 99% of the eligible adults have been vaccinated. Even with the recent surge, we may be ready for a strategy that avoids wholesale quarantining. A targeted and robust antibody testing system might work for us and make an unproven and unpopular masking mandate unnecessary. Britain seems to be moving in a similar direction to meet its goal of keeping children in school.
However, there are large population groups in regions of this country that have stumbled at taking the initial steps to get the pandemic under control. Articulating a national goal that covers both communities where the response to the pandemic has been less thoughtful and robust along with states that have been more successful is going to be difficult. But it must be done.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].
In August I shared with you my observations on two opposing op-ed pieces from two major newspapers, one was in favor of masking mandates for public schools, the other against. (Masking in school: A battle of the op-eds. MDedge Pediatrics. Letters from Maine, 2021 Aug 12). Neither group of authors could offer us evidence from controlled studies to support their views. However, both agreed that returning children to school deserves a high priority. But neither the authors nor I treaded into the uncharted waters of exactly how masking fits into our national goals for managing the pandemic because ... no one in this country has articulated what these goals should be. A third op-ed appearing 3 weeks later suggests why we are floundering in this goal-deficient limbo.
Writing in the New York Times, two epidemiologists in Boston ask the simple question: “What are we actually trying to achieve in the United States?” when it comes to the pandemic. (Allen AG and Jenkins H. The Hard Covid-19 Questions We’re Not Asking. 2021 Aug 30). Is our goal zero infections? Is it hammering on the virus until we can treat it like the seasonal flu? We do seem to agree that not having kids in school has been a disaster economically, educationally, and psychologically. But, where does the goal of getting them back in school fit into a larger and as yet undefined national goal? Without that target we have little idea of what compromises and risks we should be willing to accept.
How much serious pediatric disease is acceptable? It appears that the number of fatal complications in the pediatric population is very small in comparison with other demographic groups. Although few in number, there have been and there will continue to be pediatric deaths because of COVID. Is our goal zero pediatric deaths? If it is then this dictates a level of response that ripples back upstream to every child in every classroom and could threaten our overarching goal of returning children to school. Because none of us likes the thought of a child dying, some of us may be hesitant to even consider a strategy that doesn’t include zero pediatric deaths as a goal.
Are we looking to have zero serious pediatric infections? Achieving this goal is unlikely. Even if we develop a pediatric vaccine in the near future it probably won’t be in the arms of enough children by the end of this school year to make a significant dent in the number of serious pediatric infections. Waiting until an optimal number of children are immunized doesn’t feel like it will achieve a primary goal of getting kids back in school if we continue to focus on driving the level of serious pediatric infections to zero. We have already endured a year in which many communities made decisions that seemed to have prioritized an unstated goal of no school exposure–related educator deaths. Again, a goal based on little if any evidence.
The problem we face in this country is that our response to the pandemic has been nonuniform. Here in Brunswick, Maine, 99% of the eligible adults have been vaccinated. Even with the recent surge, we may be ready for a strategy that avoids wholesale quarantining. A targeted and robust antibody testing system might work for us and make an unproven and unpopular masking mandate unnecessary. Britain seems to be moving in a similar direction to meet its goal of keeping children in school.
However, there are large population groups in regions of this country that have stumbled at taking the initial steps to get the pandemic under control. Articulating a national goal that covers both communities where the response to the pandemic has been less thoughtful and robust along with states that have been more successful is going to be difficult. But it must be done.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].
In August I shared with you my observations on two opposing op-ed pieces from two major newspapers, one was in favor of masking mandates for public schools, the other against. (Masking in school: A battle of the op-eds. MDedge Pediatrics. Letters from Maine, 2021 Aug 12). Neither group of authors could offer us evidence from controlled studies to support their views. However, both agreed that returning children to school deserves a high priority. But neither the authors nor I treaded into the uncharted waters of exactly how masking fits into our national goals for managing the pandemic because ... no one in this country has articulated what these goals should be. A third op-ed appearing 3 weeks later suggests why we are floundering in this goal-deficient limbo.
Writing in the New York Times, two epidemiologists in Boston ask the simple question: “What are we actually trying to achieve in the United States?” when it comes to the pandemic. (Allen AG and Jenkins H. The Hard Covid-19 Questions We’re Not Asking. 2021 Aug 30). Is our goal zero infections? Is it hammering on the virus until we can treat it like the seasonal flu? We do seem to agree that not having kids in school has been a disaster economically, educationally, and psychologically. But, where does the goal of getting them back in school fit into a larger and as yet undefined national goal? Without that target we have little idea of what compromises and risks we should be willing to accept.
How much serious pediatric disease is acceptable? It appears that the number of fatal complications in the pediatric population is very small in comparison with other demographic groups. Although few in number, there have been and there will continue to be pediatric deaths because of COVID. Is our goal zero pediatric deaths? If it is then this dictates a level of response that ripples back upstream to every child in every classroom and could threaten our overarching goal of returning children to school. Because none of us likes the thought of a child dying, some of us may be hesitant to even consider a strategy that doesn’t include zero pediatric deaths as a goal.
Are we looking to have zero serious pediatric infections? Achieving this goal is unlikely. Even if we develop a pediatric vaccine in the near future it probably won’t be in the arms of enough children by the end of this school year to make a significant dent in the number of serious pediatric infections. Waiting until an optimal number of children are immunized doesn’t feel like it will achieve a primary goal of getting kids back in school if we continue to focus on driving the level of serious pediatric infections to zero. We have already endured a year in which many communities made decisions that seemed to have prioritized an unstated goal of no school exposure–related educator deaths. Again, a goal based on little if any evidence.
The problem we face in this country is that our response to the pandemic has been nonuniform. Here in Brunswick, Maine, 99% of the eligible adults have been vaccinated. Even with the recent surge, we may be ready for a strategy that avoids wholesale quarantining. A targeted and robust antibody testing system might work for us and make an unproven and unpopular masking mandate unnecessary. Britain seems to be moving in a similar direction to meet its goal of keeping children in school.
However, there are large population groups in regions of this country that have stumbled at taking the initial steps to get the pandemic under control. Articulating a national goal that covers both communities where the response to the pandemic has been less thoughtful and robust along with states that have been more successful is going to be difficult. But it must be done.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].
How could this happen? Judge forces doctors to give ivermectin
The judge’s order was a major affront to many clinical ethicists. A county judge in Ohio ordered a hospital to give ivermectin to a COVID-19 patient on a ventilator. This order occurred against the advice and judgment of the local physicians. It occurred in spite of the hospital’s lawyers fighting the order. How could such a situation occur?
This column is not the appropriate forum to debate the use of ivermectin. The Food and Drug Administration has not approved the drug for treating COVID-19. Indeed, the FDA has specifically recommended against its use.1 So has the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.2 Poison control centers report a large uptick in exposures this summer because of self-medication, sometimes from veterinary sources.3
Fortunately for this case, the judge who overruled the order, Judge Michael A. Oster, wrote in his decision a summary of facts presented by both sides. The topic here is how a judge could order a medical institution and its staff to provide care against medical judgment. A key tenet of clinical ethics consultation is that the consultant needs to do their own investigation. Most veteran consultants have a litany of anecdotes wherein the initial story changed markedly as new facts were uncovered. The more outrageous the initial story, the more likely a major distortion is found. Therefore, most clinical ethics consultants are reluctant to discuss case studies based solely on publicly available information. Often, it is nearly impossible to obtain further information. One side of the story may be gagged by privacy laws. However, cases must sometimes be discussed based on the limited information available because, without that discussion, egregious violations of medical ethics would not be brought to light.
Fortunately for this case, Judge Osler’s decision contains a summary of facts presented by both sides. In August 2021, a 51-year-old patient with severe COVID-19 is in an Ohio intensive care unit on a ventilator. His wife seeks and obtains a prescription for ivermectin from a physician who has an Ohio state medical license but lives elsewhere, has no clinical privileges at the involved hospital, and has never examined the patient. The wife, as a surrogate decision maker, demands her husband receive the medication. The medical staff involved do not consider it a valid treatment. The wife seeks an injunction. A county judge orders the hospital to administer a specified dose of ivermectin daily for 21 days.4 That judge further grants an emergency preliminary injunction for 14 days that orders administration of the medication while legal appeals are made. Two weeks later, a second county judge hearing the case rules that the wife has not presented convincing evidence that she is likely to ultimately win the case on the merits.5 Therefore, the second judge reverses the preliminary injunction. The hospital need not continue to give the medication while further legal proceedings take place.
Cases like this are uncommon. Judges generally defer the authority for medical decisions to physicians. Various attitudes combine to make such an event happen. The judge may view the hospital as a local monopoly of health care and the patient may be too unstable to transport elsewhere. A judge in that situation, combined with a “the consumer is always right” mentality, and a sympathetic plaintiff, may seek to make miracles happen.
Judges overriding science are more likely to manifest when they see the science as ambiguous. Scientists have lost some of the gravitas they had when men walked on the moon. The spectacular success of the mRNA vaccines has surprisingly not reversed that loss. Science has been tainted by mercenary scientists, biased researchers seeking publications, and the large volume of published medical research that is false.
But there is more going on here. In the United States there has been a significant rebellion against any form of expertise and any form of authority. The echo chambers of misinformation on social media have led to polarization, conspiracy theories, and loyalty to political tribe rather than truth; hence the battle over masks and vaccines. This breakdown in authority is accompanied by losses in virtues such as civic duty and loving one’s neighbor. This is a failure of modern moral institutions. When major medical journals print opinion pieces portraying physicians as interchangeable automatons,6 it should not be surprising to see judges tempted by similar imagery.
One part of the solution is accountability in peer review. With 30,000 county judges scattered in 50 states, there will always be a few rogue and maverick attitudes among judges. The judiciary has a means of reassigning rebels to less impactful tasks. Similarly, if the physician who counseled the wife to use ivermectin had privileges at the admitting hospital, then peer review and credential committees could discipline behaviors that were too far outside accepted norms. Even when a consensus on best practice is hard to establish, damage can be mitigated by creating consequences for promoting aberrant care.
Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. “Why you should not use ivermectin to treat or prevent COVID-19,” FDA Consumer Updates, Sept. 3, 2021.
2. “Rapid increase in ivermectin prescriptions and reports of severe illness associated with use of products containing ivermectin to prevent or treat COVID-19,” CDC Health Advisory, Aug. 26, 2021.
3. National Poison Data System Bulletin: COVID-19 (Ivermectin), American Association of Poison Control Centers, 2021.
4. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, DBA West Chester Hospital, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Aug. 23, 2021.
5. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, Decision denying plaintiff’s action for a preliminary injunction, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Sept. 6, 2021.
6. “Conscientious objection in medicine,” BMJ 2006 Feb 2. doi: 10.1136/bmj.332.7536.294.
The judge’s order was a major affront to many clinical ethicists. A county judge in Ohio ordered a hospital to give ivermectin to a COVID-19 patient on a ventilator. This order occurred against the advice and judgment of the local physicians. It occurred in spite of the hospital’s lawyers fighting the order. How could such a situation occur?
This column is not the appropriate forum to debate the use of ivermectin. The Food and Drug Administration has not approved the drug for treating COVID-19. Indeed, the FDA has specifically recommended against its use.1 So has the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.2 Poison control centers report a large uptick in exposures this summer because of self-medication, sometimes from veterinary sources.3
Fortunately for this case, the judge who overruled the order, Judge Michael A. Oster, wrote in his decision a summary of facts presented by both sides. The topic here is how a judge could order a medical institution and its staff to provide care against medical judgment. A key tenet of clinical ethics consultation is that the consultant needs to do their own investigation. Most veteran consultants have a litany of anecdotes wherein the initial story changed markedly as new facts were uncovered. The more outrageous the initial story, the more likely a major distortion is found. Therefore, most clinical ethics consultants are reluctant to discuss case studies based solely on publicly available information. Often, it is nearly impossible to obtain further information. One side of the story may be gagged by privacy laws. However, cases must sometimes be discussed based on the limited information available because, without that discussion, egregious violations of medical ethics would not be brought to light.
Fortunately for this case, Judge Osler’s decision contains a summary of facts presented by both sides. In August 2021, a 51-year-old patient with severe COVID-19 is in an Ohio intensive care unit on a ventilator. His wife seeks and obtains a prescription for ivermectin from a physician who has an Ohio state medical license but lives elsewhere, has no clinical privileges at the involved hospital, and has never examined the patient. The wife, as a surrogate decision maker, demands her husband receive the medication. The medical staff involved do not consider it a valid treatment. The wife seeks an injunction. A county judge orders the hospital to administer a specified dose of ivermectin daily for 21 days.4 That judge further grants an emergency preliminary injunction for 14 days that orders administration of the medication while legal appeals are made. Two weeks later, a second county judge hearing the case rules that the wife has not presented convincing evidence that she is likely to ultimately win the case on the merits.5 Therefore, the second judge reverses the preliminary injunction. The hospital need not continue to give the medication while further legal proceedings take place.
Cases like this are uncommon. Judges generally defer the authority for medical decisions to physicians. Various attitudes combine to make such an event happen. The judge may view the hospital as a local monopoly of health care and the patient may be too unstable to transport elsewhere. A judge in that situation, combined with a “the consumer is always right” mentality, and a sympathetic plaintiff, may seek to make miracles happen.
Judges overriding science are more likely to manifest when they see the science as ambiguous. Scientists have lost some of the gravitas they had when men walked on the moon. The spectacular success of the mRNA vaccines has surprisingly not reversed that loss. Science has been tainted by mercenary scientists, biased researchers seeking publications, and the large volume of published medical research that is false.
But there is more going on here. In the United States there has been a significant rebellion against any form of expertise and any form of authority. The echo chambers of misinformation on social media have led to polarization, conspiracy theories, and loyalty to political tribe rather than truth; hence the battle over masks and vaccines. This breakdown in authority is accompanied by losses in virtues such as civic duty and loving one’s neighbor. This is a failure of modern moral institutions. When major medical journals print opinion pieces portraying physicians as interchangeable automatons,6 it should not be surprising to see judges tempted by similar imagery.
One part of the solution is accountability in peer review. With 30,000 county judges scattered in 50 states, there will always be a few rogue and maverick attitudes among judges. The judiciary has a means of reassigning rebels to less impactful tasks. Similarly, if the physician who counseled the wife to use ivermectin had privileges at the admitting hospital, then peer review and credential committees could discipline behaviors that were too far outside accepted norms. Even when a consensus on best practice is hard to establish, damage can be mitigated by creating consequences for promoting aberrant care.
Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. “Why you should not use ivermectin to treat or prevent COVID-19,” FDA Consumer Updates, Sept. 3, 2021.
2. “Rapid increase in ivermectin prescriptions and reports of severe illness associated with use of products containing ivermectin to prevent or treat COVID-19,” CDC Health Advisory, Aug. 26, 2021.
3. National Poison Data System Bulletin: COVID-19 (Ivermectin), American Association of Poison Control Centers, 2021.
4. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, DBA West Chester Hospital, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Aug. 23, 2021.
5. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, Decision denying plaintiff’s action for a preliminary injunction, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Sept. 6, 2021.
6. “Conscientious objection in medicine,” BMJ 2006 Feb 2. doi: 10.1136/bmj.332.7536.294.
The judge’s order was a major affront to many clinical ethicists. A county judge in Ohio ordered a hospital to give ivermectin to a COVID-19 patient on a ventilator. This order occurred against the advice and judgment of the local physicians. It occurred in spite of the hospital’s lawyers fighting the order. How could such a situation occur?
This column is not the appropriate forum to debate the use of ivermectin. The Food and Drug Administration has not approved the drug for treating COVID-19. Indeed, the FDA has specifically recommended against its use.1 So has the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.2 Poison control centers report a large uptick in exposures this summer because of self-medication, sometimes from veterinary sources.3
Fortunately for this case, the judge who overruled the order, Judge Michael A. Oster, wrote in his decision a summary of facts presented by both sides. The topic here is how a judge could order a medical institution and its staff to provide care against medical judgment. A key tenet of clinical ethics consultation is that the consultant needs to do their own investigation. Most veteran consultants have a litany of anecdotes wherein the initial story changed markedly as new facts were uncovered. The more outrageous the initial story, the more likely a major distortion is found. Therefore, most clinical ethics consultants are reluctant to discuss case studies based solely on publicly available information. Often, it is nearly impossible to obtain further information. One side of the story may be gagged by privacy laws. However, cases must sometimes be discussed based on the limited information available because, without that discussion, egregious violations of medical ethics would not be brought to light.
Fortunately for this case, Judge Osler’s decision contains a summary of facts presented by both sides. In August 2021, a 51-year-old patient with severe COVID-19 is in an Ohio intensive care unit on a ventilator. His wife seeks and obtains a prescription for ivermectin from a physician who has an Ohio state medical license but lives elsewhere, has no clinical privileges at the involved hospital, and has never examined the patient. The wife, as a surrogate decision maker, demands her husband receive the medication. The medical staff involved do not consider it a valid treatment. The wife seeks an injunction. A county judge orders the hospital to administer a specified dose of ivermectin daily for 21 days.4 That judge further grants an emergency preliminary injunction for 14 days that orders administration of the medication while legal appeals are made. Two weeks later, a second county judge hearing the case rules that the wife has not presented convincing evidence that she is likely to ultimately win the case on the merits.5 Therefore, the second judge reverses the preliminary injunction. The hospital need not continue to give the medication while further legal proceedings take place.
Cases like this are uncommon. Judges generally defer the authority for medical decisions to physicians. Various attitudes combine to make such an event happen. The judge may view the hospital as a local monopoly of health care and the patient may be too unstable to transport elsewhere. A judge in that situation, combined with a “the consumer is always right” mentality, and a sympathetic plaintiff, may seek to make miracles happen.
Judges overriding science are more likely to manifest when they see the science as ambiguous. Scientists have lost some of the gravitas they had when men walked on the moon. The spectacular success of the mRNA vaccines has surprisingly not reversed that loss. Science has been tainted by mercenary scientists, biased researchers seeking publications, and the large volume of published medical research that is false.
But there is more going on here. In the United States there has been a significant rebellion against any form of expertise and any form of authority. The echo chambers of misinformation on social media have led to polarization, conspiracy theories, and loyalty to political tribe rather than truth; hence the battle over masks and vaccines. This breakdown in authority is accompanied by losses in virtues such as civic duty and loving one’s neighbor. This is a failure of modern moral institutions. When major medical journals print opinion pieces portraying physicians as interchangeable automatons,6 it should not be surprising to see judges tempted by similar imagery.
One part of the solution is accountability in peer review. With 30,000 county judges scattered in 50 states, there will always be a few rogue and maverick attitudes among judges. The judiciary has a means of reassigning rebels to less impactful tasks. Similarly, if the physician who counseled the wife to use ivermectin had privileges at the admitting hospital, then peer review and credential committees could discipline behaviors that were too far outside accepted norms. Even when a consensus on best practice is hard to establish, damage can be mitigated by creating consequences for promoting aberrant care.
Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].
References
1. “Why you should not use ivermectin to treat or prevent COVID-19,” FDA Consumer Updates, Sept. 3, 2021.
2. “Rapid increase in ivermectin prescriptions and reports of severe illness associated with use of products containing ivermectin to prevent or treat COVID-19,” CDC Health Advisory, Aug. 26, 2021.
3. National Poison Data System Bulletin: COVID-19 (Ivermectin), American Association of Poison Control Centers, 2021.
4. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, DBA West Chester Hospital, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Aug. 23, 2021.
5. Smith v West Chester Hosptial, LLC, Decision denying plaintiff’s action for a preliminary injunction, Butler County Clerk of Courts, Sept. 6, 2021.
6. “Conscientious objection in medicine,” BMJ 2006 Feb 2. doi: 10.1136/bmj.332.7536.294.
New Moderna vaccine data ‘support’ booster shot after 8 months
Moderna has released new data that it said support the argument for COVID-19 booster shots – specifically showing that people who received a first shot of their mRNA vaccine a median of 13 months ago are more likely to experience a breakthrough infection compared to individuals who received a first shot a median of 8 months ago.
The findings come from the ongoing phase 3 COVE clinical trial, the results of which the Food and Drug Administration considered in granting emergency use authorization for the vaccine. In the initial stage of the trial, people were randomly assigned to receive the company’s mRNA vaccine or placebo.
according to the analysis of the open-label extension of the study during which placebo participants could cross over and get immunized as well.
The updated COVE trial data show that 88 breakthrough cases of COVID-19 occurred among 11,431 participants vaccinated between December 2020 and March 2021 (49.0 cases per 1,000 person-years).
In contrast, there were 162 breakthrough cases among 14,746 people vaccinated between July and October 2020 (77.1 cases per 1,000 person-years).
The breakthrough infections include 19 severe cases. Although not statically different, there was a trend toward fewer severe cases among the more recently vaccinated, at a rate of 3.3 per 1,000 person-years, compared with 6.2 per 1,000 person-years in the group vaccinated in 2020
The findings were posted as a preprint to the medRxiv server and have not yet been peer reviewed.
“The increased risk of breakthrough infections in COVE study participants who were vaccinated last year compared to more recently illustrates the impact of waning immunity and supports the need for a booster to maintain high levels of protection,” Moderna CEO Stéphane Bancel said in a company statement.
An FDA advisory committee is meeting Sept. 17 to look at the available evidence on boosters to help the agency decide whether the additional shots are warranted.
There is still a lot of debate in the medical community about the need for boosters. U.S. physicians and nurses are divided about the need for them and about how the country should prioritize its vaccine supplies, according to a Medscape poll of more than 1,700 clinicians that collected responses from Aug. 25 to Sept. 6, 2020.
The research was funded by Moderna, and also supported by the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response, Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, and by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Moderna has released new data that it said support the argument for COVID-19 booster shots – specifically showing that people who received a first shot of their mRNA vaccine a median of 13 months ago are more likely to experience a breakthrough infection compared to individuals who received a first shot a median of 8 months ago.
The findings come from the ongoing phase 3 COVE clinical trial, the results of which the Food and Drug Administration considered in granting emergency use authorization for the vaccine. In the initial stage of the trial, people were randomly assigned to receive the company’s mRNA vaccine or placebo.
according to the analysis of the open-label extension of the study during which placebo participants could cross over and get immunized as well.
The updated COVE trial data show that 88 breakthrough cases of COVID-19 occurred among 11,431 participants vaccinated between December 2020 and March 2021 (49.0 cases per 1,000 person-years).
In contrast, there were 162 breakthrough cases among 14,746 people vaccinated between July and October 2020 (77.1 cases per 1,000 person-years).
The breakthrough infections include 19 severe cases. Although not statically different, there was a trend toward fewer severe cases among the more recently vaccinated, at a rate of 3.3 per 1,000 person-years, compared with 6.2 per 1,000 person-years in the group vaccinated in 2020
The findings were posted as a preprint to the medRxiv server and have not yet been peer reviewed.
“The increased risk of breakthrough infections in COVE study participants who were vaccinated last year compared to more recently illustrates the impact of waning immunity and supports the need for a booster to maintain high levels of protection,” Moderna CEO Stéphane Bancel said in a company statement.
An FDA advisory committee is meeting Sept. 17 to look at the available evidence on boosters to help the agency decide whether the additional shots are warranted.
There is still a lot of debate in the medical community about the need for boosters. U.S. physicians and nurses are divided about the need for them and about how the country should prioritize its vaccine supplies, according to a Medscape poll of more than 1,700 clinicians that collected responses from Aug. 25 to Sept. 6, 2020.
The research was funded by Moderna, and also supported by the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response, Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, and by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Moderna has released new data that it said support the argument for COVID-19 booster shots – specifically showing that people who received a first shot of their mRNA vaccine a median of 13 months ago are more likely to experience a breakthrough infection compared to individuals who received a first shot a median of 8 months ago.
The findings come from the ongoing phase 3 COVE clinical trial, the results of which the Food and Drug Administration considered in granting emergency use authorization for the vaccine. In the initial stage of the trial, people were randomly assigned to receive the company’s mRNA vaccine or placebo.
according to the analysis of the open-label extension of the study during which placebo participants could cross over and get immunized as well.
The updated COVE trial data show that 88 breakthrough cases of COVID-19 occurred among 11,431 participants vaccinated between December 2020 and March 2021 (49.0 cases per 1,000 person-years).
In contrast, there were 162 breakthrough cases among 14,746 people vaccinated between July and October 2020 (77.1 cases per 1,000 person-years).
The breakthrough infections include 19 severe cases. Although not statically different, there was a trend toward fewer severe cases among the more recently vaccinated, at a rate of 3.3 per 1,000 person-years, compared with 6.2 per 1,000 person-years in the group vaccinated in 2020
The findings were posted as a preprint to the medRxiv server and have not yet been peer reviewed.
“The increased risk of breakthrough infections in COVE study participants who were vaccinated last year compared to more recently illustrates the impact of waning immunity and supports the need for a booster to maintain high levels of protection,” Moderna CEO Stéphane Bancel said in a company statement.
An FDA advisory committee is meeting Sept. 17 to look at the available evidence on boosters to help the agency decide whether the additional shots are warranted.
There is still a lot of debate in the medical community about the need for boosters. U.S. physicians and nurses are divided about the need for them and about how the country should prioritize its vaccine supplies, according to a Medscape poll of more than 1,700 clinicians that collected responses from Aug. 25 to Sept. 6, 2020.
The research was funded by Moderna, and also supported by the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response, Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, and by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Is social media worsening our social fears?
Ping. Here’s a picture of your friends on a trip without you.
Ding. In your inbox, you find an email from your attending dismissing you from a very important project or patient.
Ring. There’s that call from your colleague telling you all about the incredible dinner with some other residents, which you weren’t invited to.
FoMO. Fear of missing out.
FoMO refers to a social anxiety phenomenon fueled by the need or desire to participate in an experience, event, interaction, or investment. It can be conceptualized in two parts: (1) social ostracism and (2) the need to maintain social connectedness through a sense of belonging and/or strong relationships. It is generally characterized by episodic feelings of regret, discontent, social inferiority, and/or loneliness.
Social networking sites and FoMO
Social networking sites (SNS) are a great way for people to connect instantaneously and without borders. However, they may also decrease the quality of intimate connections and relationships. In the current COVID-19 era of Zoom, most of us could agree that face-to-face and in-person communication triumphs over Internet-based interactions. I can attest that Zoom university, endless FaceTime calls, and late-night Netflix parties are not fulfilling my desire for in-person interactions. That is to say, SNS cannot fully compensate for our unmet social needs.
In fact, achieving social compensation through SNS may exacerbate social fears and anxiety disorders, and encourage rumination. For example, a recent systematic review investigating social media use among individuals who are socially anxious and lonely found that both of the foregoing factors may lead to greater negative and inhibitory behavior as a result of social media use. Feelings of inadequacy can lead to a distorted sense of oneself.
Ping. Ding. Ring. In 2021, almost half of people in the United States spend 5-6 hours on their phones daily.
Most of us are one click away from what essentially is a “live stream” of continuous updates on peoples’ lives. With these constant updates, we often start to imagine what we’re missing out on: trips, dinners, parties, and everything under the sun. However, in reality, what we see on social media is only a fraction of true reality. For example, that 10-second video of your friend going hiking cannot begin to sum up the entire day. The 24/7 nature of SNS can often lead to a perversion of the truth and unhealthy self-comparisons.
In this vicious cycle of notifications and constant entertainment, unreasonable expectations are created that adversely impact self-confidence and self-esteem, and may even lead to the emergence of depressive symptoms.
FoMO and negative associations of SNS go hand in hand. While SNS are a powerful tool for connection and information, they have also been reported to negatively impact quality of interactions.
Next time you see a picture, video, or post of a missed event, perhaps it’s best to stop thinking of the “what ifs” and start crafting your own narrative.
Ms Lui completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate. She has received income from Braxia Scientific Corp. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Ping. Here’s a picture of your friends on a trip without you.
Ding. In your inbox, you find an email from your attending dismissing you from a very important project or patient.
Ring. There’s that call from your colleague telling you all about the incredible dinner with some other residents, which you weren’t invited to.
FoMO. Fear of missing out.
FoMO refers to a social anxiety phenomenon fueled by the need or desire to participate in an experience, event, interaction, or investment. It can be conceptualized in two parts: (1) social ostracism and (2) the need to maintain social connectedness through a sense of belonging and/or strong relationships. It is generally characterized by episodic feelings of regret, discontent, social inferiority, and/or loneliness.
Social networking sites and FoMO
Social networking sites (SNS) are a great way for people to connect instantaneously and without borders. However, they may also decrease the quality of intimate connections and relationships. In the current COVID-19 era of Zoom, most of us could agree that face-to-face and in-person communication triumphs over Internet-based interactions. I can attest that Zoom university, endless FaceTime calls, and late-night Netflix parties are not fulfilling my desire for in-person interactions. That is to say, SNS cannot fully compensate for our unmet social needs.
In fact, achieving social compensation through SNS may exacerbate social fears and anxiety disorders, and encourage rumination. For example, a recent systematic review investigating social media use among individuals who are socially anxious and lonely found that both of the foregoing factors may lead to greater negative and inhibitory behavior as a result of social media use. Feelings of inadequacy can lead to a distorted sense of oneself.
Ping. Ding. Ring. In 2021, almost half of people in the United States spend 5-6 hours on their phones daily.
Most of us are one click away from what essentially is a “live stream” of continuous updates on peoples’ lives. With these constant updates, we often start to imagine what we’re missing out on: trips, dinners, parties, and everything under the sun. However, in reality, what we see on social media is only a fraction of true reality. For example, that 10-second video of your friend going hiking cannot begin to sum up the entire day. The 24/7 nature of SNS can often lead to a perversion of the truth and unhealthy self-comparisons.
In this vicious cycle of notifications and constant entertainment, unreasonable expectations are created that adversely impact self-confidence and self-esteem, and may even lead to the emergence of depressive symptoms.
FoMO and negative associations of SNS go hand in hand. While SNS are a powerful tool for connection and information, they have also been reported to negatively impact quality of interactions.
Next time you see a picture, video, or post of a missed event, perhaps it’s best to stop thinking of the “what ifs” and start crafting your own narrative.
Ms Lui completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate. She has received income from Braxia Scientific Corp. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Ping. Here’s a picture of your friends on a trip without you.
Ding. In your inbox, you find an email from your attending dismissing you from a very important project or patient.
Ring. There’s that call from your colleague telling you all about the incredible dinner with some other residents, which you weren’t invited to.
FoMO. Fear of missing out.
FoMO refers to a social anxiety phenomenon fueled by the need or desire to participate in an experience, event, interaction, or investment. It can be conceptualized in two parts: (1) social ostracism and (2) the need to maintain social connectedness through a sense of belonging and/or strong relationships. It is generally characterized by episodic feelings of regret, discontent, social inferiority, and/or loneliness.
Social networking sites and FoMO
Social networking sites (SNS) are a great way for people to connect instantaneously and without borders. However, they may also decrease the quality of intimate connections and relationships. In the current COVID-19 era of Zoom, most of us could agree that face-to-face and in-person communication triumphs over Internet-based interactions. I can attest that Zoom university, endless FaceTime calls, and late-night Netflix parties are not fulfilling my desire for in-person interactions. That is to say, SNS cannot fully compensate for our unmet social needs.
In fact, achieving social compensation through SNS may exacerbate social fears and anxiety disorders, and encourage rumination. For example, a recent systematic review investigating social media use among individuals who are socially anxious and lonely found that both of the foregoing factors may lead to greater negative and inhibitory behavior as a result of social media use. Feelings of inadequacy can lead to a distorted sense of oneself.
Ping. Ding. Ring. In 2021, almost half of people in the United States spend 5-6 hours on their phones daily.
Most of us are one click away from what essentially is a “live stream” of continuous updates on peoples’ lives. With these constant updates, we often start to imagine what we’re missing out on: trips, dinners, parties, and everything under the sun. However, in reality, what we see on social media is only a fraction of true reality. For example, that 10-second video of your friend going hiking cannot begin to sum up the entire day. The 24/7 nature of SNS can often lead to a perversion of the truth and unhealthy self-comparisons.
In this vicious cycle of notifications and constant entertainment, unreasonable expectations are created that adversely impact self-confidence and self-esteem, and may even lead to the emergence of depressive symptoms.
FoMO and negative associations of SNS go hand in hand. While SNS are a powerful tool for connection and information, they have also been reported to negatively impact quality of interactions.
Next time you see a picture, video, or post of a missed event, perhaps it’s best to stop thinking of the “what ifs” and start crafting your own narrative.
Ms Lui completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate. She has received income from Braxia Scientific Corp. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
COVID vaccine preprint study prompts Twitter outrage
A preprint study finding that the Pfizer-BioNTech mRNA COVID vaccine is associated with an increased risk for cardiac adverse events in teenage boys has elicited a firestorm on Twitter. Although some people issued thoughtful critiques, others lobbed insults against the authors, and still others accused them of either being antivaccine or stoking the fires of the vaccine skeptic movement.
The controversy began soon after the study was posted online September 8 on medRxiv. The authors conclude that for boys, the risk for a cardiac adverse event or hospitalization after the second dose of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine was “considerably higher” than the 120-day risk for hospitalization for COVID-19, “even at times of peak disease prevalence.” This was especially true for those aged 12 to 15 years and even those with no underlying health conditions.
The conclusion – as well as the paper’s source, the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS), and its methodology, modeled after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention assessment of the database – did not sit well with many.
“Your methodology hugely overestimates risk, which many commentators who are specialists in the field have highlighted,” tweeted Deepti Gurdasani, senior lecturer in epidemiology at Queen Mary University of London. “Why make this claim when you must know it’s wrong?”
“The authors don’t know what they are doing and they are following their own ideology,” tweeted Boback Ziaeian, MD, PhD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in the cardiology division. Dr. Ziaeian also tweeted, “I believe the CDC is doing honest work and not dredging slop like you are.”
“Holy shit. Truly terrible methods in that paper,” tweeted Michael Mina, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and immunologist at the Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, more bluntly.
Some pointed out that VAERS is often used by vaccine skeptics to spread misinformation. “‘Dumpster diving’ describes studies using #VAERS by authors (almost always antivaxxers) who don’t understand its limitations,” tweeted David Gorski, MD, PhD, the editor of Science-Based Medicine, who says in his Twitter bio that he “exposes quackery.”
Added Dr. Gorski: “Doctors fell into this trap with their study suggesting #CovidVaccine is more dangerous to children than #COVID19.”
Dr. Gorski said he did not think that the authors were antivaccine. But, he tweeted, “I’d argue that at least one of the authors (Stevenson) is grossly unqualified to analyze the data. Mandrola? Marginal. The other two *might* be qualified in public health/epi, but they clearly either had no clue about #VAERS limitations or didn’t take them seriously enough.”
Two of the authors, John Mandrola, MD, a cardiac electrophysiologist who is also a columnist for Medscape, and Tracy Beth Hoeg, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and sports medicine specialist, told this news organization that their estimates are not definitive, owing to the nature of the VAERS database.
“I want to emphasize that our signal is hypothesis-generating,” said Dr. Mandrola. “There’s obviously more research that needs to be done.”
“I don’t think it should be used to establish a for-certain rate,” said Dr. Hoeg, about the study. “It’s not a perfect way of establishing what the rate of cardiac adverse events was, but it gives you an estimate, and generally with VAERS, it’s a significant underestimate.”
Both Dr. Hoeg and Dr. Mandrola said their analysis showed enough of a signal that it warranted a rush to publish. “We felt that it was super time-sensitive,” Dr. Mandrola said.
Vaccine risks versus COVID harm
The authors searched the VAERS system for children aged 12 to 17 years who had received one or two doses of an mRNA vaccine and had symptoms of myocarditis, pericarditis, myopericarditis, or chest pain, and also troponin levels available in the lab data.
Of the 257 patients they examined, 211 had peak troponin values available for analysis. All but one received the Pfizer vaccine. Results were stratified by age and sex.
The authors found that the rates of cardiac adverse events (CAEs) after dose 1 were 12.0 per million for 12- to 15-year-old boys and 8.2 per million for 16- and 17-year-old boys, compared with 0.0 per million and 2.0 per million for girls the same ages.
The estimates for the 12- to 15-year-old boys were 22% to 150% higher than what the CDC had previously reported.
After the second dose, the rate of CAEs for boys 12 to 15 years was 162.2 per million (143% to 280% higher than the CDC estimate) and for boys 16 and 17 years, it was 94.0 per million, or 30% to 40% higher than CDC estimate.
Dr. Mandrola said he and his colleagues found potentially more cases by using slightly broader search terms than those employed by the CDC but agreed with some critics that a limitation was that they did not call the reporting physicians, as is typical with CDC follow-up on VAERS reports.
The authors point to troponin levels as valid indicators of myocardial damage. Peak troponin levels exceeded 2 ng/mL in 71% of the 12- to 15-year-olds and 82% of 16- and 17-year-olds.
The study shows that for boys 12 to 15 years with no comorbidities, the risk for a CAE after the second dose would be 22.8 times higher than the risk for hospitalization for COVID-19 during periods of low disease burden, 6.0 times higher during periods of moderate transmission, and 4.3 times higher during periods of high transmission.
The authors acknowledge in the paper that their analysis “does not take into account any benefits the vaccine provides against transmission to others, long-term COVID-19 disease risk, or protection from nonsevere COVID-19 symptoms.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg told this news organization that they are currently recalculating their estimates because of the rising numbers of pediatric hospitalizations from the Delta variant surge.
Paper rejected by journals
Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that the paper went through peer-review at three journals but was rejected by all three, for reasons that were not made clear.
She and the other authors incorporated the reviewers’ feedback at each turn and included all of their suggestions in the paper that was ultimately uploaded to medRxiv, said Dr. Hoeg.
They decided to put it out as a preprint after the U.S. Food and Drug Administration issued its data and then a warning on June 25 about myocarditis with use of the Pfizer vaccine in children 12 to 15 years of age.
The preprint study was picked up by some media outlets, including The Telegraph and The Guardian newspapers, and tweeted out by vaccine skeptics like Robert W. Malone, MD.
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Georgia), an outspoken vaccine skeptic, tweeted out the Guardian story saying that the findings mean “there is every reason to stop the covid vaccine mandates.”
Dr. Gorski noted in tweets and in a blog post that one of the paper’s coauthors, Josh Stevenson, is part of Rational Ground, a group that supports the Great Barrington Declaration and is against lockdowns and mask mandates.
Mr. Stevenson did not disclose his affiliation in the paper, and Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that she was unaware of the group and Mr. Stevenson’s association with it and that she did not have the impression that he was altering the data to show any bias.
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they are provaccine and that they were dismayed to find their work being used to support any agenda. “It’s very frustrating,” said Dr. Hoeg, adding that she understands that “when you publish research on a controversial topic, people are going to take it and use it for their agendas.”
Some on Twitter blamed the open and free-wheeling nature of preprints.
Harlan Krumholz, MD, SM, the Harold H. Hines, junior professor of medicine and public health at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., which oversees medRxiv, tweeted, “Do you get that the discussion about the preprint is exactly the purpose of #preprints. So that way when someone claims something, you can look at the source and experts can comment.”
But Dr. Ziaeian tweeted back, “Preprints like this one can be weaponized to stir anti-vaccine lies and damage public health.”
In turn, the Yale physician replied, “Unfortunately these days, almost anything can be weaponized, distorted, misunderstood.” Dr. Krumholz added: “There is no question that this preprint is worthy of deep vetting and discussion. But there is a #preprint artifact to examine.”
Measured support
Some clinicians signaled their support for open debate and the preprint’s findings.
“I’ve been very critical of preprints that are too quickly disseminated in the media, and this one is no exception,” tweeted Walid Gellad, MD, MPH, associate professor of medicine at the University of Pittsburgh. “On the other hand, I think the vitriol directed at these authors is wrong,” he added.
“Like it or not, the issue of myocarditis in kids is an issue. Other countries have made vaccination decisions because of this issue, not because they’re driven by some ideology,” he tweeted.
Dr. Gellad also notes that the FDA has estimated the risk could be as high as one in 5,000 and that the preprint numbers could actually be underestimates.
In a long thread, Frank Han, MD, an adult congenital and pediatric cardiologist at the University of Illinois, tweets that relying on the VAERS reports might be faulty and that advanced cardiac imaging – guided by strict criteria – is the best way to determine myocarditis. And, he tweeted, “Physician review of VAERS reports really matters.”
Dr. Han concluded that vaccination “trades in a significant risk with a much smaller risk. That’s what counts in the end.”
In a response, Dr. Mandrola called Han’s tweets “reasoned criticism of our analysis.” He adds that his and Dr. Hoeg’s study have limits, but “our point is not to avoid protecting kids, but how to do so most safely.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they welcomed critiques, but they felt blindsided by the vehemence of some of the Twitter debate.
“Some of the vitriol was surprising,” Dr. Mandrola said. “I kind of have this naive notion that people would assume that we’re not bad people,” he added.
However, Dr. Mandrola is known on Twitter for sometimes being highly critical of other researchers’ work, referring to some studies as “howlers,” and has in the past called out others for citing those papers.
Dr. Hoeg said she found critiques about weaknesses in the methods to be helpful. But she said many tweets were “attacking us as people, or not really attacking anything about our study, but just attacking the finding,” which does not help anyone “figure out what we should do about the safety signal or how we can research it further.”
Said Dr. Mandrola: “Why would we just ignore that and go forward with two-shot vaccination as a mandate when other countries are looking at other strategies?”
He noted that the United Kingdom has announced that children 12 to 15 years of age should receive just one shot of the mRNA vaccines instead of two because of the risk for myocarditis. Sixteen- to 18-year-olds have already been advised to get only one dose.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
A preprint study finding that the Pfizer-BioNTech mRNA COVID vaccine is associated with an increased risk for cardiac adverse events in teenage boys has elicited a firestorm on Twitter. Although some people issued thoughtful critiques, others lobbed insults against the authors, and still others accused them of either being antivaccine or stoking the fires of the vaccine skeptic movement.
The controversy began soon after the study was posted online September 8 on medRxiv. The authors conclude that for boys, the risk for a cardiac adverse event or hospitalization after the second dose of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine was “considerably higher” than the 120-day risk for hospitalization for COVID-19, “even at times of peak disease prevalence.” This was especially true for those aged 12 to 15 years and even those with no underlying health conditions.
The conclusion – as well as the paper’s source, the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS), and its methodology, modeled after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention assessment of the database – did not sit well with many.
“Your methodology hugely overestimates risk, which many commentators who are specialists in the field have highlighted,” tweeted Deepti Gurdasani, senior lecturer in epidemiology at Queen Mary University of London. “Why make this claim when you must know it’s wrong?”
“The authors don’t know what they are doing and they are following their own ideology,” tweeted Boback Ziaeian, MD, PhD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in the cardiology division. Dr. Ziaeian also tweeted, “I believe the CDC is doing honest work and not dredging slop like you are.”
“Holy shit. Truly terrible methods in that paper,” tweeted Michael Mina, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and immunologist at the Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, more bluntly.
Some pointed out that VAERS is often used by vaccine skeptics to spread misinformation. “‘Dumpster diving’ describes studies using #VAERS by authors (almost always antivaxxers) who don’t understand its limitations,” tweeted David Gorski, MD, PhD, the editor of Science-Based Medicine, who says in his Twitter bio that he “exposes quackery.”
Added Dr. Gorski: “Doctors fell into this trap with their study suggesting #CovidVaccine is more dangerous to children than #COVID19.”
Dr. Gorski said he did not think that the authors were antivaccine. But, he tweeted, “I’d argue that at least one of the authors (Stevenson) is grossly unqualified to analyze the data. Mandrola? Marginal. The other two *might* be qualified in public health/epi, but they clearly either had no clue about #VAERS limitations or didn’t take them seriously enough.”
Two of the authors, John Mandrola, MD, a cardiac electrophysiologist who is also a columnist for Medscape, and Tracy Beth Hoeg, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and sports medicine specialist, told this news organization that their estimates are not definitive, owing to the nature of the VAERS database.
“I want to emphasize that our signal is hypothesis-generating,” said Dr. Mandrola. “There’s obviously more research that needs to be done.”
“I don’t think it should be used to establish a for-certain rate,” said Dr. Hoeg, about the study. “It’s not a perfect way of establishing what the rate of cardiac adverse events was, but it gives you an estimate, and generally with VAERS, it’s a significant underestimate.”
Both Dr. Hoeg and Dr. Mandrola said their analysis showed enough of a signal that it warranted a rush to publish. “We felt that it was super time-sensitive,” Dr. Mandrola said.
Vaccine risks versus COVID harm
The authors searched the VAERS system for children aged 12 to 17 years who had received one or two doses of an mRNA vaccine and had symptoms of myocarditis, pericarditis, myopericarditis, or chest pain, and also troponin levels available in the lab data.
Of the 257 patients they examined, 211 had peak troponin values available for analysis. All but one received the Pfizer vaccine. Results were stratified by age and sex.
The authors found that the rates of cardiac adverse events (CAEs) after dose 1 were 12.0 per million for 12- to 15-year-old boys and 8.2 per million for 16- and 17-year-old boys, compared with 0.0 per million and 2.0 per million for girls the same ages.
The estimates for the 12- to 15-year-old boys were 22% to 150% higher than what the CDC had previously reported.
After the second dose, the rate of CAEs for boys 12 to 15 years was 162.2 per million (143% to 280% higher than the CDC estimate) and for boys 16 and 17 years, it was 94.0 per million, or 30% to 40% higher than CDC estimate.
Dr. Mandrola said he and his colleagues found potentially more cases by using slightly broader search terms than those employed by the CDC but agreed with some critics that a limitation was that they did not call the reporting physicians, as is typical with CDC follow-up on VAERS reports.
The authors point to troponin levels as valid indicators of myocardial damage. Peak troponin levels exceeded 2 ng/mL in 71% of the 12- to 15-year-olds and 82% of 16- and 17-year-olds.
The study shows that for boys 12 to 15 years with no comorbidities, the risk for a CAE after the second dose would be 22.8 times higher than the risk for hospitalization for COVID-19 during periods of low disease burden, 6.0 times higher during periods of moderate transmission, and 4.3 times higher during periods of high transmission.
The authors acknowledge in the paper that their analysis “does not take into account any benefits the vaccine provides against transmission to others, long-term COVID-19 disease risk, or protection from nonsevere COVID-19 symptoms.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg told this news organization that they are currently recalculating their estimates because of the rising numbers of pediatric hospitalizations from the Delta variant surge.
Paper rejected by journals
Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that the paper went through peer-review at three journals but was rejected by all three, for reasons that were not made clear.
She and the other authors incorporated the reviewers’ feedback at each turn and included all of their suggestions in the paper that was ultimately uploaded to medRxiv, said Dr. Hoeg.
They decided to put it out as a preprint after the U.S. Food and Drug Administration issued its data and then a warning on June 25 about myocarditis with use of the Pfizer vaccine in children 12 to 15 years of age.
The preprint study was picked up by some media outlets, including The Telegraph and The Guardian newspapers, and tweeted out by vaccine skeptics like Robert W. Malone, MD.
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Georgia), an outspoken vaccine skeptic, tweeted out the Guardian story saying that the findings mean “there is every reason to stop the covid vaccine mandates.”
Dr. Gorski noted in tweets and in a blog post that one of the paper’s coauthors, Josh Stevenson, is part of Rational Ground, a group that supports the Great Barrington Declaration and is against lockdowns and mask mandates.
Mr. Stevenson did not disclose his affiliation in the paper, and Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that she was unaware of the group and Mr. Stevenson’s association with it and that she did not have the impression that he was altering the data to show any bias.
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they are provaccine and that they were dismayed to find their work being used to support any agenda. “It’s very frustrating,” said Dr. Hoeg, adding that she understands that “when you publish research on a controversial topic, people are going to take it and use it for their agendas.”
Some on Twitter blamed the open and free-wheeling nature of preprints.
Harlan Krumholz, MD, SM, the Harold H. Hines, junior professor of medicine and public health at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., which oversees medRxiv, tweeted, “Do you get that the discussion about the preprint is exactly the purpose of #preprints. So that way when someone claims something, you can look at the source and experts can comment.”
But Dr. Ziaeian tweeted back, “Preprints like this one can be weaponized to stir anti-vaccine lies and damage public health.”
In turn, the Yale physician replied, “Unfortunately these days, almost anything can be weaponized, distorted, misunderstood.” Dr. Krumholz added: “There is no question that this preprint is worthy of deep vetting and discussion. But there is a #preprint artifact to examine.”
Measured support
Some clinicians signaled their support for open debate and the preprint’s findings.
“I’ve been very critical of preprints that are too quickly disseminated in the media, and this one is no exception,” tweeted Walid Gellad, MD, MPH, associate professor of medicine at the University of Pittsburgh. “On the other hand, I think the vitriol directed at these authors is wrong,” he added.
“Like it or not, the issue of myocarditis in kids is an issue. Other countries have made vaccination decisions because of this issue, not because they’re driven by some ideology,” he tweeted.
Dr. Gellad also notes that the FDA has estimated the risk could be as high as one in 5,000 and that the preprint numbers could actually be underestimates.
In a long thread, Frank Han, MD, an adult congenital and pediatric cardiologist at the University of Illinois, tweets that relying on the VAERS reports might be faulty and that advanced cardiac imaging – guided by strict criteria – is the best way to determine myocarditis. And, he tweeted, “Physician review of VAERS reports really matters.”
Dr. Han concluded that vaccination “trades in a significant risk with a much smaller risk. That’s what counts in the end.”
In a response, Dr. Mandrola called Han’s tweets “reasoned criticism of our analysis.” He adds that his and Dr. Hoeg’s study have limits, but “our point is not to avoid protecting kids, but how to do so most safely.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they welcomed critiques, but they felt blindsided by the vehemence of some of the Twitter debate.
“Some of the vitriol was surprising,” Dr. Mandrola said. “I kind of have this naive notion that people would assume that we’re not bad people,” he added.
However, Dr. Mandrola is known on Twitter for sometimes being highly critical of other researchers’ work, referring to some studies as “howlers,” and has in the past called out others for citing those papers.
Dr. Hoeg said she found critiques about weaknesses in the methods to be helpful. But she said many tweets were “attacking us as people, or not really attacking anything about our study, but just attacking the finding,” which does not help anyone “figure out what we should do about the safety signal or how we can research it further.”
Said Dr. Mandrola: “Why would we just ignore that and go forward with two-shot vaccination as a mandate when other countries are looking at other strategies?”
He noted that the United Kingdom has announced that children 12 to 15 years of age should receive just one shot of the mRNA vaccines instead of two because of the risk for myocarditis. Sixteen- to 18-year-olds have already been advised to get only one dose.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
A preprint study finding that the Pfizer-BioNTech mRNA COVID vaccine is associated with an increased risk for cardiac adverse events in teenage boys has elicited a firestorm on Twitter. Although some people issued thoughtful critiques, others lobbed insults against the authors, and still others accused them of either being antivaccine or stoking the fires of the vaccine skeptic movement.
The controversy began soon after the study was posted online September 8 on medRxiv. The authors conclude that for boys, the risk for a cardiac adverse event or hospitalization after the second dose of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine was “considerably higher” than the 120-day risk for hospitalization for COVID-19, “even at times of peak disease prevalence.” This was especially true for those aged 12 to 15 years and even those with no underlying health conditions.
The conclusion – as well as the paper’s source, the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS), and its methodology, modeled after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention assessment of the database – did not sit well with many.
“Your methodology hugely overestimates risk, which many commentators who are specialists in the field have highlighted,” tweeted Deepti Gurdasani, senior lecturer in epidemiology at Queen Mary University of London. “Why make this claim when you must know it’s wrong?”
“The authors don’t know what they are doing and they are following their own ideology,” tweeted Boback Ziaeian, MD, PhD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in the cardiology division. Dr. Ziaeian also tweeted, “I believe the CDC is doing honest work and not dredging slop like you are.”
“Holy shit. Truly terrible methods in that paper,” tweeted Michael Mina, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and immunologist at the Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, more bluntly.
Some pointed out that VAERS is often used by vaccine skeptics to spread misinformation. “‘Dumpster diving’ describes studies using #VAERS by authors (almost always antivaxxers) who don’t understand its limitations,” tweeted David Gorski, MD, PhD, the editor of Science-Based Medicine, who says in his Twitter bio that he “exposes quackery.”
Added Dr. Gorski: “Doctors fell into this trap with their study suggesting #CovidVaccine is more dangerous to children than #COVID19.”
Dr. Gorski said he did not think that the authors were antivaccine. But, he tweeted, “I’d argue that at least one of the authors (Stevenson) is grossly unqualified to analyze the data. Mandrola? Marginal. The other two *might* be qualified in public health/epi, but they clearly either had no clue about #VAERS limitations or didn’t take them seriously enough.”
Two of the authors, John Mandrola, MD, a cardiac electrophysiologist who is also a columnist for Medscape, and Tracy Beth Hoeg, MD, PhD, an epidemiologist and sports medicine specialist, told this news organization that their estimates are not definitive, owing to the nature of the VAERS database.
“I want to emphasize that our signal is hypothesis-generating,” said Dr. Mandrola. “There’s obviously more research that needs to be done.”
“I don’t think it should be used to establish a for-certain rate,” said Dr. Hoeg, about the study. “It’s not a perfect way of establishing what the rate of cardiac adverse events was, but it gives you an estimate, and generally with VAERS, it’s a significant underestimate.”
Both Dr. Hoeg and Dr. Mandrola said their analysis showed enough of a signal that it warranted a rush to publish. “We felt that it was super time-sensitive,” Dr. Mandrola said.
Vaccine risks versus COVID harm
The authors searched the VAERS system for children aged 12 to 17 years who had received one or two doses of an mRNA vaccine and had symptoms of myocarditis, pericarditis, myopericarditis, or chest pain, and also troponin levels available in the lab data.
Of the 257 patients they examined, 211 had peak troponin values available for analysis. All but one received the Pfizer vaccine. Results were stratified by age and sex.
The authors found that the rates of cardiac adverse events (CAEs) after dose 1 were 12.0 per million for 12- to 15-year-old boys and 8.2 per million for 16- and 17-year-old boys, compared with 0.0 per million and 2.0 per million for girls the same ages.
The estimates for the 12- to 15-year-old boys were 22% to 150% higher than what the CDC had previously reported.
After the second dose, the rate of CAEs for boys 12 to 15 years was 162.2 per million (143% to 280% higher than the CDC estimate) and for boys 16 and 17 years, it was 94.0 per million, or 30% to 40% higher than CDC estimate.
Dr. Mandrola said he and his colleagues found potentially more cases by using slightly broader search terms than those employed by the CDC but agreed with some critics that a limitation was that they did not call the reporting physicians, as is typical with CDC follow-up on VAERS reports.
The authors point to troponin levels as valid indicators of myocardial damage. Peak troponin levels exceeded 2 ng/mL in 71% of the 12- to 15-year-olds and 82% of 16- and 17-year-olds.
The study shows that for boys 12 to 15 years with no comorbidities, the risk for a CAE after the second dose would be 22.8 times higher than the risk for hospitalization for COVID-19 during periods of low disease burden, 6.0 times higher during periods of moderate transmission, and 4.3 times higher during periods of high transmission.
The authors acknowledge in the paper that their analysis “does not take into account any benefits the vaccine provides against transmission to others, long-term COVID-19 disease risk, or protection from nonsevere COVID-19 symptoms.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg told this news organization that they are currently recalculating their estimates because of the rising numbers of pediatric hospitalizations from the Delta variant surge.
Paper rejected by journals
Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that the paper went through peer-review at three journals but was rejected by all three, for reasons that were not made clear.
She and the other authors incorporated the reviewers’ feedback at each turn and included all of their suggestions in the paper that was ultimately uploaded to medRxiv, said Dr. Hoeg.
They decided to put it out as a preprint after the U.S. Food and Drug Administration issued its data and then a warning on June 25 about myocarditis with use of the Pfizer vaccine in children 12 to 15 years of age.
The preprint study was picked up by some media outlets, including The Telegraph and The Guardian newspapers, and tweeted out by vaccine skeptics like Robert W. Malone, MD.
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Georgia), an outspoken vaccine skeptic, tweeted out the Guardian story saying that the findings mean “there is every reason to stop the covid vaccine mandates.”
Dr. Gorski noted in tweets and in a blog post that one of the paper’s coauthors, Josh Stevenson, is part of Rational Ground, a group that supports the Great Barrington Declaration and is against lockdowns and mask mandates.
Mr. Stevenson did not disclose his affiliation in the paper, and Dr. Hoeg said in an interview that she was unaware of the group and Mr. Stevenson’s association with it and that she did not have the impression that he was altering the data to show any bias.
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they are provaccine and that they were dismayed to find their work being used to support any agenda. “It’s very frustrating,” said Dr. Hoeg, adding that she understands that “when you publish research on a controversial topic, people are going to take it and use it for their agendas.”
Some on Twitter blamed the open and free-wheeling nature of preprints.
Harlan Krumholz, MD, SM, the Harold H. Hines, junior professor of medicine and public health at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., which oversees medRxiv, tweeted, “Do you get that the discussion about the preprint is exactly the purpose of #preprints. So that way when someone claims something, you can look at the source and experts can comment.”
But Dr. Ziaeian tweeted back, “Preprints like this one can be weaponized to stir anti-vaccine lies and damage public health.”
In turn, the Yale physician replied, “Unfortunately these days, almost anything can be weaponized, distorted, misunderstood.” Dr. Krumholz added: “There is no question that this preprint is worthy of deep vetting and discussion. But there is a #preprint artifact to examine.”
Measured support
Some clinicians signaled their support for open debate and the preprint’s findings.
“I’ve been very critical of preprints that are too quickly disseminated in the media, and this one is no exception,” tweeted Walid Gellad, MD, MPH, associate professor of medicine at the University of Pittsburgh. “On the other hand, I think the vitriol directed at these authors is wrong,” he added.
“Like it or not, the issue of myocarditis in kids is an issue. Other countries have made vaccination decisions because of this issue, not because they’re driven by some ideology,” he tweeted.
Dr. Gellad also notes that the FDA has estimated the risk could be as high as one in 5,000 and that the preprint numbers could actually be underestimates.
In a long thread, Frank Han, MD, an adult congenital and pediatric cardiologist at the University of Illinois, tweets that relying on the VAERS reports might be faulty and that advanced cardiac imaging – guided by strict criteria – is the best way to determine myocarditis. And, he tweeted, “Physician review of VAERS reports really matters.”
Dr. Han concluded that vaccination “trades in a significant risk with a much smaller risk. That’s what counts in the end.”
In a response, Dr. Mandrola called Han’s tweets “reasoned criticism of our analysis.” He adds that his and Dr. Hoeg’s study have limits, but “our point is not to avoid protecting kids, but how to do so most safely.”
Both Dr. Mandrola and Dr. Hoeg said they welcomed critiques, but they felt blindsided by the vehemence of some of the Twitter debate.
“Some of the vitriol was surprising,” Dr. Mandrola said. “I kind of have this naive notion that people would assume that we’re not bad people,” he added.
However, Dr. Mandrola is known on Twitter for sometimes being highly critical of other researchers’ work, referring to some studies as “howlers,” and has in the past called out others for citing those papers.
Dr. Hoeg said she found critiques about weaknesses in the methods to be helpful. But she said many tweets were “attacking us as people, or not really attacking anything about our study, but just attacking the finding,” which does not help anyone “figure out what we should do about the safety signal or how we can research it further.”
Said Dr. Mandrola: “Why would we just ignore that and go forward with two-shot vaccination as a mandate when other countries are looking at other strategies?”
He noted that the United Kingdom has announced that children 12 to 15 years of age should receive just one shot of the mRNA vaccines instead of two because of the risk for myocarditis. Sixteen- to 18-year-olds have already been advised to get only one dose.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
COVID wars, part nine: The rise of iodine
Onions and iodine and COVID, oh my!
As surely as the sun rises, anti-vaxxers will come up with some wacky and dangerous new idea to prevent COVID. While perhaps nothing will top horse medication, gargling iodine (or spraying it into the nose) is also not a great idea.
Multiple social media posts have extolled the virtues of gargling Betadine (povidone iodine), which is a TOPICAL disinfectant commonly used in EDs and operating rooms. One post cited a paper by a Bangladeshi plastic surgeon who hypothesized on the subject, and if that’s not a peer-reviewed, rigorously researched source, we don’t know what is.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, actual medical experts do not recommend using Betadine to prevent COVID. Ingesting it can cause iodine poisoning and plenty of nasty GI side effects; while Betadine does make a diluted product safe for gargling use (used for the treatment of sore throats), it has not shown any effectiveness against viruses or COVID in particular.
A New York ED doctor summed it up best in the Rolling Stone article when he was told anti-vaxxers were gargling iodine: He offered a choice four-letter expletive, then said, “Of course they are.”
But wait! We’ve got a two-for-one deal on dubious COVID cures this week. Health experts in Myanmar (Burma to all the “Seinfeld” fans) and Thailand have been combating social media posts claiming that onion fumes will cure COVID. All you need to do is slice an onion in half, sniff it for a while, then chew on a second onion, and your COVID will be cured!
In what is surely the most radical understatement of the year, a professor in the department of preventive and social medicine at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, said in the AFP article that there is “no solid evidence” to support onion sniffing from “any clinical research.”
We’re just going to assume the expletives that surely followed were kept off the record.
Pro-Trump state governor encourages vaccination
Clearly, the politics of COVID-19 have been working against the science of COVID-19. Politicians can’t, or won’t, agree on what to do about it, and many prominent Republicans have been actively resisting vaccine and mask mandates.
There is at least one Republican governor who has wholeheartedly encouraged vaccination in his pro-Trump state. We’re talking about Gov. Jim Justice of West Virginia, and not for the first time.
The Washington Post has detailed his efforts to promote the COVID vaccine, and we would like to share a couple of examples.
In June he suggested that people who didn’t get vaccinated were “entering the death drawing.” He followed that by saying, “If I knew for certain that there was going to be eight or nine people die by next Tuesday, and I could be one of them if I don’t take the vaccine ... What in the world do you think I would do? I mean, I would run over top of somebody.”
More recently, Gov. Justice took on vaccine conspiracy theories.
“For God’s sakes a livin’, how difficult is this to understand? Why in the world do we have to come up with these crazy ideas – and they’re crazy ideas – that the vaccine’s got something in it and it’s tracing people wherever they go? And the very same people that are saying that are carrying their cellphones around. I mean, come on. Come on.”
Nuff said.
Jet lag may be a gut feeling
After a week-long vacation halfway around the world, it’s time to go back to your usual routine and time zone. But don’t forget about that free souvenir, jet lag. A disrupted circadian rhythm can be a real bummer, but researchers may have found the fix in your belly.
In a study funded by the U.S. Navy, researchers at the University of Colorado, Boulder, looked into how the presence of a prebiotic in one’s diet can have on the disrupted biological clocks. They’re not the same as probiotics, which help you stay regular in another way. Prebiotics work as food to help the good gut bacteria you already have. An earlier study had suggested that prebiotics may have a positive effect on the brain.
To test the theory, the researchers gave one group of rats their regular food while another group received food with two different prebiotics. After manipulating the rats’ light-dark cycle for 8 weeks to give the illusion of traveling to a time zone 12 hours ahead every week, they found that the rats who ate the prebiotics were able to bounce back faster.
The possibility of ingesting something to keep your body clock regular sounds like a dream, but the researchers don’t really advise you to snatch all the supplements you can at your local pharmacy just yet.
“If you know you are going to come into a challenge, you could take a look at some of the prebiotics that are available. Just realize that they are not customized yet, so it might work for you but it won’t work for your neighbor,” said senior author Monika Fleshner.
Until there’s more conclusive research, just be good to your bacteria.
How to make stuff up and influence people
You’ve probably heard that we use only 10% of our brain. It’s right up there with “the Earth is flat” and “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
The idea that we use only 10% of our brains can probably be traced back to the early 1900s, suggests Discover magazine, when psychologist William James wrote, “Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.”
There are many different takes on it, but it is indeed a myth that we use only 10% of our brains. Dale Carnegie, the public speaking teacher, seems to be the one who put the specific number of 10% on James’ idea in his 1936 book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”
“We think that people are excited by this pseudo fact because it’s very optimistic,” neuroscientist Sandra Aamodt told Discover. “Wouldn’t we all love to think our brains had some giant pool of untapped potential that we’re not using?”
The reality is, we do use our whole brain. Functional MRI shows that different parts of the brain are used for different things such as language and memories. “Not all at the same time, of course. But every part of the brain has a job to do,” the Discover article explained.
There are many things we don’t know about how the brain works, but at least you know you use more than 10%. After all, a brain just told you so.
Onions and iodine and COVID, oh my!
As surely as the sun rises, anti-vaxxers will come up with some wacky and dangerous new idea to prevent COVID. While perhaps nothing will top horse medication, gargling iodine (or spraying it into the nose) is also not a great idea.
Multiple social media posts have extolled the virtues of gargling Betadine (povidone iodine), which is a TOPICAL disinfectant commonly used in EDs and operating rooms. One post cited a paper by a Bangladeshi plastic surgeon who hypothesized on the subject, and if that’s not a peer-reviewed, rigorously researched source, we don’t know what is.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, actual medical experts do not recommend using Betadine to prevent COVID. Ingesting it can cause iodine poisoning and plenty of nasty GI side effects; while Betadine does make a diluted product safe for gargling use (used for the treatment of sore throats), it has not shown any effectiveness against viruses or COVID in particular.
A New York ED doctor summed it up best in the Rolling Stone article when he was told anti-vaxxers were gargling iodine: He offered a choice four-letter expletive, then said, “Of course they are.”
But wait! We’ve got a two-for-one deal on dubious COVID cures this week. Health experts in Myanmar (Burma to all the “Seinfeld” fans) and Thailand have been combating social media posts claiming that onion fumes will cure COVID. All you need to do is slice an onion in half, sniff it for a while, then chew on a second onion, and your COVID will be cured!
In what is surely the most radical understatement of the year, a professor in the department of preventive and social medicine at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, said in the AFP article that there is “no solid evidence” to support onion sniffing from “any clinical research.”
We’re just going to assume the expletives that surely followed were kept off the record.
Pro-Trump state governor encourages vaccination
Clearly, the politics of COVID-19 have been working against the science of COVID-19. Politicians can’t, or won’t, agree on what to do about it, and many prominent Republicans have been actively resisting vaccine and mask mandates.
There is at least one Republican governor who has wholeheartedly encouraged vaccination in his pro-Trump state. We’re talking about Gov. Jim Justice of West Virginia, and not for the first time.
The Washington Post has detailed his efforts to promote the COVID vaccine, and we would like to share a couple of examples.
In June he suggested that people who didn’t get vaccinated were “entering the death drawing.” He followed that by saying, “If I knew for certain that there was going to be eight or nine people die by next Tuesday, and I could be one of them if I don’t take the vaccine ... What in the world do you think I would do? I mean, I would run over top of somebody.”
More recently, Gov. Justice took on vaccine conspiracy theories.
“For God’s sakes a livin’, how difficult is this to understand? Why in the world do we have to come up with these crazy ideas – and they’re crazy ideas – that the vaccine’s got something in it and it’s tracing people wherever they go? And the very same people that are saying that are carrying their cellphones around. I mean, come on. Come on.”
Nuff said.
Jet lag may be a gut feeling
After a week-long vacation halfway around the world, it’s time to go back to your usual routine and time zone. But don’t forget about that free souvenir, jet lag. A disrupted circadian rhythm can be a real bummer, but researchers may have found the fix in your belly.
In a study funded by the U.S. Navy, researchers at the University of Colorado, Boulder, looked into how the presence of a prebiotic in one’s diet can have on the disrupted biological clocks. They’re not the same as probiotics, which help you stay regular in another way. Prebiotics work as food to help the good gut bacteria you already have. An earlier study had suggested that prebiotics may have a positive effect on the brain.
To test the theory, the researchers gave one group of rats their regular food while another group received food with two different prebiotics. After manipulating the rats’ light-dark cycle for 8 weeks to give the illusion of traveling to a time zone 12 hours ahead every week, they found that the rats who ate the prebiotics were able to bounce back faster.
The possibility of ingesting something to keep your body clock regular sounds like a dream, but the researchers don’t really advise you to snatch all the supplements you can at your local pharmacy just yet.
“If you know you are going to come into a challenge, you could take a look at some of the prebiotics that are available. Just realize that they are not customized yet, so it might work for you but it won’t work for your neighbor,” said senior author Monika Fleshner.
Until there’s more conclusive research, just be good to your bacteria.
How to make stuff up and influence people
You’ve probably heard that we use only 10% of our brain. It’s right up there with “the Earth is flat” and “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
The idea that we use only 10% of our brains can probably be traced back to the early 1900s, suggests Discover magazine, when psychologist William James wrote, “Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.”
There are many different takes on it, but it is indeed a myth that we use only 10% of our brains. Dale Carnegie, the public speaking teacher, seems to be the one who put the specific number of 10% on James’ idea in his 1936 book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”
“We think that people are excited by this pseudo fact because it’s very optimistic,” neuroscientist Sandra Aamodt told Discover. “Wouldn’t we all love to think our brains had some giant pool of untapped potential that we’re not using?”
The reality is, we do use our whole brain. Functional MRI shows that different parts of the brain are used for different things such as language and memories. “Not all at the same time, of course. But every part of the brain has a job to do,” the Discover article explained.
There are many things we don’t know about how the brain works, but at least you know you use more than 10%. After all, a brain just told you so.
Onions and iodine and COVID, oh my!
As surely as the sun rises, anti-vaxxers will come up with some wacky and dangerous new idea to prevent COVID. While perhaps nothing will top horse medication, gargling iodine (or spraying it into the nose) is also not a great idea.
Multiple social media posts have extolled the virtues of gargling Betadine (povidone iodine), which is a TOPICAL disinfectant commonly used in EDs and operating rooms. One post cited a paper by a Bangladeshi plastic surgeon who hypothesized on the subject, and if that’s not a peer-reviewed, rigorously researched source, we don’t know what is.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, actual medical experts do not recommend using Betadine to prevent COVID. Ingesting it can cause iodine poisoning and plenty of nasty GI side effects; while Betadine does make a diluted product safe for gargling use (used for the treatment of sore throats), it has not shown any effectiveness against viruses or COVID in particular.
A New York ED doctor summed it up best in the Rolling Stone article when he was told anti-vaxxers were gargling iodine: He offered a choice four-letter expletive, then said, “Of course they are.”
But wait! We’ve got a two-for-one deal on dubious COVID cures this week. Health experts in Myanmar (Burma to all the “Seinfeld” fans) and Thailand have been combating social media posts claiming that onion fumes will cure COVID. All you need to do is slice an onion in half, sniff it for a while, then chew on a second onion, and your COVID will be cured!
In what is surely the most radical understatement of the year, a professor in the department of preventive and social medicine at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, said in the AFP article that there is “no solid evidence” to support onion sniffing from “any clinical research.”
We’re just going to assume the expletives that surely followed were kept off the record.
Pro-Trump state governor encourages vaccination
Clearly, the politics of COVID-19 have been working against the science of COVID-19. Politicians can’t, or won’t, agree on what to do about it, and many prominent Republicans have been actively resisting vaccine and mask mandates.
There is at least one Republican governor who has wholeheartedly encouraged vaccination in his pro-Trump state. We’re talking about Gov. Jim Justice of West Virginia, and not for the first time.
The Washington Post has detailed his efforts to promote the COVID vaccine, and we would like to share a couple of examples.
In June he suggested that people who didn’t get vaccinated were “entering the death drawing.” He followed that by saying, “If I knew for certain that there was going to be eight or nine people die by next Tuesday, and I could be one of them if I don’t take the vaccine ... What in the world do you think I would do? I mean, I would run over top of somebody.”
More recently, Gov. Justice took on vaccine conspiracy theories.
“For God’s sakes a livin’, how difficult is this to understand? Why in the world do we have to come up with these crazy ideas – and they’re crazy ideas – that the vaccine’s got something in it and it’s tracing people wherever they go? And the very same people that are saying that are carrying their cellphones around. I mean, come on. Come on.”
Nuff said.
Jet lag may be a gut feeling
After a week-long vacation halfway around the world, it’s time to go back to your usual routine and time zone. But don’t forget about that free souvenir, jet lag. A disrupted circadian rhythm can be a real bummer, but researchers may have found the fix in your belly.
In a study funded by the U.S. Navy, researchers at the University of Colorado, Boulder, looked into how the presence of a prebiotic in one’s diet can have on the disrupted biological clocks. They’re not the same as probiotics, which help you stay regular in another way. Prebiotics work as food to help the good gut bacteria you already have. An earlier study had suggested that prebiotics may have a positive effect on the brain.
To test the theory, the researchers gave one group of rats their regular food while another group received food with two different prebiotics. After manipulating the rats’ light-dark cycle for 8 weeks to give the illusion of traveling to a time zone 12 hours ahead every week, they found that the rats who ate the prebiotics were able to bounce back faster.
The possibility of ingesting something to keep your body clock regular sounds like a dream, but the researchers don’t really advise you to snatch all the supplements you can at your local pharmacy just yet.
“If you know you are going to come into a challenge, you could take a look at some of the prebiotics that are available. Just realize that they are not customized yet, so it might work for you but it won’t work for your neighbor,” said senior author Monika Fleshner.
Until there’s more conclusive research, just be good to your bacteria.
How to make stuff up and influence people
You’ve probably heard that we use only 10% of our brain. It’s right up there with “the Earth is flat” and “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
The idea that we use only 10% of our brains can probably be traced back to the early 1900s, suggests Discover magazine, when psychologist William James wrote, “Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.”
There are many different takes on it, but it is indeed a myth that we use only 10% of our brains. Dale Carnegie, the public speaking teacher, seems to be the one who put the specific number of 10% on James’ idea in his 1936 book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”
“We think that people are excited by this pseudo fact because it’s very optimistic,” neuroscientist Sandra Aamodt told Discover. “Wouldn’t we all love to think our brains had some giant pool of untapped potential that we’re not using?”
The reality is, we do use our whole brain. Functional MRI shows that different parts of the brain are used for different things such as language and memories. “Not all at the same time, of course. But every part of the brain has a job to do,” the Discover article explained.
There are many things we don’t know about how the brain works, but at least you know you use more than 10%. After all, a brain just told you so.
Why misinformation spreads
Over the past 16 months, the COVID-19 pandemic has highlighted not only our vulnerability to disease outbreaks but also our susceptibility to misinformation and the dangers of “fake news.”
In fact, COVID-19 is not a pandemic but rather a syndemic of viral disease and misinformation. In the current digital age, there is an abundance of information at our fingertips. This has resulted in a surplus of accurate as well as inaccurate information – information that is subject to the various biases we humans are subject to.
Our decision making and cognition are colored by our internal and external environmental biases, whether through our emotions, societal influences, or cues from the “machines” that are now such an omnipresent part of our lives.
Let’s break them down:
- Emotional bias: We’re only human, and our emotions often overwhelm objective judgment. Even when the evidence is of low quality, emotional attachments can deter us from rational thinking. This kind of bias can be rooted in personal experiences.
- Societal bias: Thoughts, opinions, or perspectives of peers are powerful forces that may influence our decisions and viewpoints. We can conceptualize our social networks as partisan circles and “echo chambers.” This bias is perhaps most evident in various online social media platforms.
- Machine bias: Our online platforms are laced with algorithms that tailor the content we see. Accordingly, the curated content we see (and, by extension, the less diverse content we view) may reinforce existing biases, such as confirmation bias.
- Although bias plays a significant role in decision making, we should also consider intuition versus deliberation – and whether the “gut” is a reliable source of information.
Intuition versus deliberation: The power of reasoning
The dual process theory suggests that thought may be categorized in two ways: System 1, referred to as rapid, intuitive, or automatic thinking (which may be a result of personal experience); and system 2, referred to as deliberate or controlled thinking (for example, reasoned thinking). System 1 versus system 2 may be conceptualized as fast versus slow thinking.
Let’s use the Cognitive Reflection Test to illustrate the dual process theory. This test measures the ability to reflect and deliberate on a question and to forgo an intuitive, rapid response. One of the questions asks: “A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1.00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?” A common answer is that the ball costs $0.10. However, the ball actually costs $0.05. The common response is a “gut” response, rather than an analytic or deliberate response.
This example can be extrapolated to social media behavior, such as when individuals endorse beliefs and behaviors that may be far from the truth (for example, conspiracy ideation). It is not uncommon for individuals to rely on intuition, which may be incorrect, as a driving source of truth. Although one’s intuition can be correct, it’s important to be careful and to deliberate.
But would deliberate engagement lead to more politically valenced perspectives? One hypothesis posits that system 2 can lead to false claims and worsening discernment of truth. Another, and more popular, account of classical reasoning says that more thoughtful engagement (regardless of one’s political beliefs) is less susceptible to false news (for example, hyperpartisan news).
Additionally, having good literacy (political, scientific, or general) is important for discerning the truth, especially regarding events in which the information and/or claims of knowledge have been heavily manipulated.
Are believing and sharing the same?
Interestingly, believing in a headline and sharing it are not the same. A study that investigated the difference between the two found that although individuals were able to discern the validity of headlines, the veracity of those headlines was not a determining factor in sharing the story on social media.
It has been suggested that social media context may distract individuals from engaging in deliberate thinking that would enhance their ability to determine the accuracy of the content. The dissociation between truthfulness and sharing may be a result of the “attention economy,” which refers to user engagement of likes, comments, shares, and so forth. As such, social media behavior and content consumption may not necessarily reflect one’s beliefs and may be influenced by what others value.
To combat the spread of misinformation, it has been suggested that proactive interventions – “prebunking” or “inoculation” – are necessary. This idea is in accordance with the inoculation theory, which suggests that pre-exposure can confer resistance to challenge. This line of thinking is aligned with the use of vaccines to counter medical illnesses. Increasing awareness of individual vulnerability to manipulation and misinformation has also been proposed as a strategy to resist persuasion.
The age old tale of what others think of us versus what we believe to be true has existed long before the viral overtake of social media. The main difference today is that social media acts as a catalyst for pockets of misinformation. Although social media outlets are cracking down on “false news,” we must consider what criteria should be employed to identify false information. Should external bodies regulate our content consumption? We are certainly entering a gray zone of “wrong” versus “right.” With the overabundance of information available online, it may be the case of “them” versus “us” – that is, those who do not believe in the existence of misinformation versus those who do.
Leanna M. W. Lui, HBSc, completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Over the past 16 months, the COVID-19 pandemic has highlighted not only our vulnerability to disease outbreaks but also our susceptibility to misinformation and the dangers of “fake news.”
In fact, COVID-19 is not a pandemic but rather a syndemic of viral disease and misinformation. In the current digital age, there is an abundance of information at our fingertips. This has resulted in a surplus of accurate as well as inaccurate information – information that is subject to the various biases we humans are subject to.
Our decision making and cognition are colored by our internal and external environmental biases, whether through our emotions, societal influences, or cues from the “machines” that are now such an omnipresent part of our lives.
Let’s break them down:
- Emotional bias: We’re only human, and our emotions often overwhelm objective judgment. Even when the evidence is of low quality, emotional attachments can deter us from rational thinking. This kind of bias can be rooted in personal experiences.
- Societal bias: Thoughts, opinions, or perspectives of peers are powerful forces that may influence our decisions and viewpoints. We can conceptualize our social networks as partisan circles and “echo chambers.” This bias is perhaps most evident in various online social media platforms.
- Machine bias: Our online platforms are laced with algorithms that tailor the content we see. Accordingly, the curated content we see (and, by extension, the less diverse content we view) may reinforce existing biases, such as confirmation bias.
- Although bias plays a significant role in decision making, we should also consider intuition versus deliberation – and whether the “gut” is a reliable source of information.
Intuition versus deliberation: The power of reasoning
The dual process theory suggests that thought may be categorized in two ways: System 1, referred to as rapid, intuitive, or automatic thinking (which may be a result of personal experience); and system 2, referred to as deliberate or controlled thinking (for example, reasoned thinking). System 1 versus system 2 may be conceptualized as fast versus slow thinking.
Let’s use the Cognitive Reflection Test to illustrate the dual process theory. This test measures the ability to reflect and deliberate on a question and to forgo an intuitive, rapid response. One of the questions asks: “A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1.00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?” A common answer is that the ball costs $0.10. However, the ball actually costs $0.05. The common response is a “gut” response, rather than an analytic or deliberate response.
This example can be extrapolated to social media behavior, such as when individuals endorse beliefs and behaviors that may be far from the truth (for example, conspiracy ideation). It is not uncommon for individuals to rely on intuition, which may be incorrect, as a driving source of truth. Although one’s intuition can be correct, it’s important to be careful and to deliberate.
But would deliberate engagement lead to more politically valenced perspectives? One hypothesis posits that system 2 can lead to false claims and worsening discernment of truth. Another, and more popular, account of classical reasoning says that more thoughtful engagement (regardless of one’s political beliefs) is less susceptible to false news (for example, hyperpartisan news).
Additionally, having good literacy (political, scientific, or general) is important for discerning the truth, especially regarding events in which the information and/or claims of knowledge have been heavily manipulated.
Are believing and sharing the same?
Interestingly, believing in a headline and sharing it are not the same. A study that investigated the difference between the two found that although individuals were able to discern the validity of headlines, the veracity of those headlines was not a determining factor in sharing the story on social media.
It has been suggested that social media context may distract individuals from engaging in deliberate thinking that would enhance their ability to determine the accuracy of the content. The dissociation between truthfulness and sharing may be a result of the “attention economy,” which refers to user engagement of likes, comments, shares, and so forth. As such, social media behavior and content consumption may not necessarily reflect one’s beliefs and may be influenced by what others value.
To combat the spread of misinformation, it has been suggested that proactive interventions – “prebunking” or “inoculation” – are necessary. This idea is in accordance with the inoculation theory, which suggests that pre-exposure can confer resistance to challenge. This line of thinking is aligned with the use of vaccines to counter medical illnesses. Increasing awareness of individual vulnerability to manipulation and misinformation has also been proposed as a strategy to resist persuasion.
The age old tale of what others think of us versus what we believe to be true has existed long before the viral overtake of social media. The main difference today is that social media acts as a catalyst for pockets of misinformation. Although social media outlets are cracking down on “false news,” we must consider what criteria should be employed to identify false information. Should external bodies regulate our content consumption? We are certainly entering a gray zone of “wrong” versus “right.” With the overabundance of information available online, it may be the case of “them” versus “us” – that is, those who do not believe in the existence of misinformation versus those who do.
Leanna M. W. Lui, HBSc, completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Over the past 16 months, the COVID-19 pandemic has highlighted not only our vulnerability to disease outbreaks but also our susceptibility to misinformation and the dangers of “fake news.”
In fact, COVID-19 is not a pandemic but rather a syndemic of viral disease and misinformation. In the current digital age, there is an abundance of information at our fingertips. This has resulted in a surplus of accurate as well as inaccurate information – information that is subject to the various biases we humans are subject to.
Our decision making and cognition are colored by our internal and external environmental biases, whether through our emotions, societal influences, or cues from the “machines” that are now such an omnipresent part of our lives.
Let’s break them down:
- Emotional bias: We’re only human, and our emotions often overwhelm objective judgment. Even when the evidence is of low quality, emotional attachments can deter us from rational thinking. This kind of bias can be rooted in personal experiences.
- Societal bias: Thoughts, opinions, or perspectives of peers are powerful forces that may influence our decisions and viewpoints. We can conceptualize our social networks as partisan circles and “echo chambers.” This bias is perhaps most evident in various online social media platforms.
- Machine bias: Our online platforms are laced with algorithms that tailor the content we see. Accordingly, the curated content we see (and, by extension, the less diverse content we view) may reinforce existing biases, such as confirmation bias.
- Although bias plays a significant role in decision making, we should also consider intuition versus deliberation – and whether the “gut” is a reliable source of information.
Intuition versus deliberation: The power of reasoning
The dual process theory suggests that thought may be categorized in two ways: System 1, referred to as rapid, intuitive, or automatic thinking (which may be a result of personal experience); and system 2, referred to as deliberate or controlled thinking (for example, reasoned thinking). System 1 versus system 2 may be conceptualized as fast versus slow thinking.
Let’s use the Cognitive Reflection Test to illustrate the dual process theory. This test measures the ability to reflect and deliberate on a question and to forgo an intuitive, rapid response. One of the questions asks: “A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1.00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?” A common answer is that the ball costs $0.10. However, the ball actually costs $0.05. The common response is a “gut” response, rather than an analytic or deliberate response.
This example can be extrapolated to social media behavior, such as when individuals endorse beliefs and behaviors that may be far from the truth (for example, conspiracy ideation). It is not uncommon for individuals to rely on intuition, which may be incorrect, as a driving source of truth. Although one’s intuition can be correct, it’s important to be careful and to deliberate.
But would deliberate engagement lead to more politically valenced perspectives? One hypothesis posits that system 2 can lead to false claims and worsening discernment of truth. Another, and more popular, account of classical reasoning says that more thoughtful engagement (regardless of one’s political beliefs) is less susceptible to false news (for example, hyperpartisan news).
Additionally, having good literacy (political, scientific, or general) is important for discerning the truth, especially regarding events in which the information and/or claims of knowledge have been heavily manipulated.
Are believing and sharing the same?
Interestingly, believing in a headline and sharing it are not the same. A study that investigated the difference between the two found that although individuals were able to discern the validity of headlines, the veracity of those headlines was not a determining factor in sharing the story on social media.
It has been suggested that social media context may distract individuals from engaging in deliberate thinking that would enhance their ability to determine the accuracy of the content. The dissociation between truthfulness and sharing may be a result of the “attention economy,” which refers to user engagement of likes, comments, shares, and so forth. As such, social media behavior and content consumption may not necessarily reflect one’s beliefs and may be influenced by what others value.
To combat the spread of misinformation, it has been suggested that proactive interventions – “prebunking” or “inoculation” – are necessary. This idea is in accordance with the inoculation theory, which suggests that pre-exposure can confer resistance to challenge. This line of thinking is aligned with the use of vaccines to counter medical illnesses. Increasing awareness of individual vulnerability to manipulation and misinformation has also been proposed as a strategy to resist persuasion.
The age old tale of what others think of us versus what we believe to be true has existed long before the viral overtake of social media. The main difference today is that social media acts as a catalyst for pockets of misinformation. Although social media outlets are cracking down on “false news,” we must consider what criteria should be employed to identify false information. Should external bodies regulate our content consumption? We are certainly entering a gray zone of “wrong” versus “right.” With the overabundance of information available online, it may be the case of “them” versus “us” – that is, those who do not believe in the existence of misinformation versus those who do.
Leanna M. W. Lui, HBSc, completed an HBSc global health specialist degree at the University of Toronto, where she is now an MSc candidate.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
A boy went to a COVID-swamped ER. He waited for hours. Then his appendix burst.
Seth was finally diagnosed with appendicitis more than six hours after arriving at Cleveland Clinic Martin Health North Hospital in late July. Around midnight, he was taken by ambulance to a sister hospital about a half-hour away that was better equipped to perform pediatric emergency surgery, his father said.
But by the time the doctor operated in the early morning hours, Seth’s appendix had burst – a potentially fatal complication.
They, too, need emergency care, but the sheer number of COVID-19 cases is crowding them out. Treatment has often been delayed as ERs scramble to find a bed that may be hundreds of miles away.
Some health officials now worry about looming ethical decisions. Last week, Idaho activated a “crisis standard of care,” which one official described as a “last resort.” It allows overwhelmed hospitals to ration care, including “in rare cases, ventilator (breathing machines) or intensive care unit (ICU) beds may need to be used for those who are most likely to survive, while patients who are not likely to survive may not be able to receive one,” the state’s website said.
The federal government’s latest data shows Alabama is at 100% of its intensive care unit capacity, with Texas, Georgia, Mississippi and Arkansas at more than 90% ICU capacity. Florida is just under 90%.
It’s the COVID-19 cases that are dominating. In Georgia, 62% of the ICU beds are now filled with just COVID-19 patients. In Texas, the percentage is nearly half.
To have so many ICU beds pressed into service for a single diagnosis is “unheard of,” said Dr. Hasan Kakli, an emergency room physician at Bellville Medical Center in Bellville, Texas, about an hour from Houston. “It’s approaching apocalyptic.”
In Texas, state data released Monday showed there were only 319 adult and 104 pediatric staffed ICU beds available across a state of 29 million people.
Hospitals need to hold some ICU beds for other patients, such as those recovering from major surgery or other critical conditions such as stroke, trauma or heart failure.
“This is not just a COVID issue,” said Dr. Normaliz Rodriguez, pediatric emergency physician at Johns Hopkins All Children’s Hospital in St. Petersburg, Florida. “This is an everyone issue.”
While the latest hospital crisis echoes previous pandemic spikes, there are troubling differences this time around.
Before, localized COVID-19 hot spots led to bed shortages, but there were usually hospitals in the region not as affected that could accept a transfer.
Now, as the highly contagious delta variant envelops swaths of low-vaccination states all at once, it becomes harder to find nearby hospitals that are not slammed.
“Wait times can now be measured in days,” said Darrell Pile, CEO of the SouthEast Texas Regional Advisory Council, which helps coordinate patient transfers across a 25-county region.
Recently, Dr. Cedric Dark, a Houston emergency physician and assistant professor of emergency medicine at Baylor College of Medicine, said he saw a critically ill COVID-19 patient waiting in the emergency room for an ICU bed to open. The doctor worked eight hours, went home and came in the next day. The patient was still waiting.
Holding a seriously ill patient in an emergency room while waiting for an in-patient bed to open is known as boarding. The longer the wait, the more dangerous it can be for the patient, studies have found.
Not only do patients ultimately end up staying in the hospital or the ICU longer, some research suggests that long waits for a bed will worsen their condition and may increase the risk of in-hospital death.
That’s what happened last month in Texas.
On Aug. 21, around 11:30 a.m., Michelle Puget took her adult son, Daniel Wilkinson, to the Bellville Medical Center’s emergency room as a pain in his abdomen became unbearable. “Mama,” he said, “take me to the hospital.”
Wilkinson, a 46-year-old decorated Army veteran who did two tours of duty in Afghanistan, was ushered into an exam room about half an hour later. Kakli, the emergency room physician there, diagnosed gallstone pancreatitis, a serious but treatable condition that required a specialist to perform a surgical procedure and an ICU bed.
In other times, the transfer to a larger facility would be easy. But soon Kakli found himself on a frantic, six-hour quest to find a bed for his patient. Not only did he call hospitals across Texas, but he also tried Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma and Colorado. It was like throwing darts at a map and hoping to get lucky, he told ProPublica. But no one could or would take the transfer.
By 2:30 p.m., Wilkinson’s condition was deteriorating. Kakli told Puget to come back to the hospital. “I have to tell you,” she said he told her, “Your son is a very, very sick man. If he doesn’t get this procedure he will die.” She began to weep.
Two hours later, Wilkinson’s blood pressure was dropping, signaling his organs were failing, she said.
Kakli went on Facebook and posted an all-caps plea to physician groups around the nation: “GETTING REJECTED BY ALL HOSPITALS IN TEXAS DUE TO NO ICU BEDS. PLEASE HELP. MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE A BED. PATIENT IS IN ER NOW. I AM THE ER DOC. WILL FLY ANYWHERE.”
The doctor tried Michael E. DeBakey VA Medical Center in Houston for a second time. This time he found a bed.
Around 7 p.m., Wilkinson, still conscious but in grave condition, was flown by helicopter to the hospital. He was put in a medically induced coma. Through the night and into the next morning, medical teams worked to stabilize him enough to perform the procedure. They could not.
Doctors told his family the internal damage was catastrophic. “We made the decision we had to let him go,” Puget said.
Time of death: 1:37 p.m. Aug. 22 – 26 hours after he first arrived in the emergency room.
The story was first reported by CBS News. Kakli told ProPublica last week he still sometimes does the math in his head: It should have been 40 minutes from diagnosis in Bellville to transfer to the ICU in Houston. “If he had 40 minutes to wait instead of six hours, I strongly believe he would have had a different outcome.”
Another difference with the latest surge is how it’s affecting children.
Last year, schools were closed, and children were more protected because they were mostly isolated at home. In fact, children’s hospitals were often so empty during previous spikes they opened beds to adult patients.
Now, families are out more. Schools have reopened, some with mask mandates, some without. Vaccines are not yet available to those under 12. Suddenly the numbers of hospitalized children are on the rise, setting up the same type of competition for resources between young COVID-19 patients and those with other illnesses such as new onset diabetes, trauma, pneumonia or appendicitis.
Dr. Rafael Santiago, a pediatric emergency physician in Central Florida, said at Lakeland Regional Health Medical Center, the average number of children coming into the emergency room is around 130 per day. During the lockdown last spring, that number dropped to 33. Last month – “the busiest month ever” – the average daily number of children in the emergency room was 160.
Pediatric transfers are not yet as fraught as adult ones, Santiago said, but it does take more calls than it once did to secure a bed.
Seth Osborn, the 12-year-old whose appendix burst after a long wait, spent five days and four nights in the hospital as doctors pumped his body full of antibiotics to stave off infection from the rupture. The typical hospitalization for a routine appendectomy is about 24 hours.
The initial hospital bill for the stay came to more than $48,000, Nathaniel Osborn said. Although insurance paid for most of it, he said the family still borrowed against its house to cover the more than $5,000 in out-of-pocket costs so far.
While the hospital system where Seth was treated declined to comment about his case because of patient privacy laws, it did email a statement about the strain the pandemic is creating.
“Since July 2021, we have seen a tremendous spike in COVID-19 patients needing care and hospitalization. In mid-August, we saw the highest number of patients hospitalized with COVID-19 across the Cleveland Clinic Florida region, a total of 395 COVID-19 patients in four hospitals. Those hospitals have approximately 1,000 total beds,” the email to ProPublica said. “We strongly encourage vaccination. Approximately 90% of our patients hospitalized due to COVID-19 are unvaccinated.”
On Sunday, The Washington Post reported that a hospital in Alabama called 43 others across three states before finding a bed for Ray DeMonia, a critically ill heart patient who later died. In his obituary his family wrote: “In honor of Ray, please get vaccinated if you have not, in an effort to free up resources for non COVID related emergencies. ... He would not want any other family to go through what his did.”
Today, Seth is mostly recovered. “Twelve-year-old boys bounce back,” his father said. Still, the experience has left Nathaniel Osborn shaken.
The high school history teacher said he likes to stay upbeat and apolitical in his social media musings, posting about Florida wildlife preservation and favorite books. But on Sept. 7, he tweeted: “My 12-year-old had appendicitis. The ER was overwhelmed with unvaccinated Covid patients and we had to wait 6+ hours. While waiting, his appendix ruptured and had to spend 5 days in hospital. ... So yeah, your decision to not vaccinate does affect others.”
It was retweeted 34,700 times, with 143,000 likes. Most comments were sympathetic and wished his child a speedy recovery. Some, though, went straight to hate, apparently triggered by his last line. He was attacked personally and accused of making up the story: “Good try with the guilt, jerk.”
Osborn, who is vaccinated, as are his wife and son, told ProPublica he only shared Seth’s story on Twitter to encourage vaccinations.
“I have no ill will towards the hospitals or the care received at either hospital,” he said this week, “but had these hospitals not been so crowded with COVID patients, we wouldn’t have had to wait so long and perhaps my son’s appendix would not have burst.”
This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published.
Seth was finally diagnosed with appendicitis more than six hours after arriving at Cleveland Clinic Martin Health North Hospital in late July. Around midnight, he was taken by ambulance to a sister hospital about a half-hour away that was better equipped to perform pediatric emergency surgery, his father said.
But by the time the doctor operated in the early morning hours, Seth’s appendix had burst – a potentially fatal complication.
They, too, need emergency care, but the sheer number of COVID-19 cases is crowding them out. Treatment has often been delayed as ERs scramble to find a bed that may be hundreds of miles away.
Some health officials now worry about looming ethical decisions. Last week, Idaho activated a “crisis standard of care,” which one official described as a “last resort.” It allows overwhelmed hospitals to ration care, including “in rare cases, ventilator (breathing machines) or intensive care unit (ICU) beds may need to be used for those who are most likely to survive, while patients who are not likely to survive may not be able to receive one,” the state’s website said.
The federal government’s latest data shows Alabama is at 100% of its intensive care unit capacity, with Texas, Georgia, Mississippi and Arkansas at more than 90% ICU capacity. Florida is just under 90%.
It’s the COVID-19 cases that are dominating. In Georgia, 62% of the ICU beds are now filled with just COVID-19 patients. In Texas, the percentage is nearly half.
To have so many ICU beds pressed into service for a single diagnosis is “unheard of,” said Dr. Hasan Kakli, an emergency room physician at Bellville Medical Center in Bellville, Texas, about an hour from Houston. “It’s approaching apocalyptic.”
In Texas, state data released Monday showed there were only 319 adult and 104 pediatric staffed ICU beds available across a state of 29 million people.
Hospitals need to hold some ICU beds for other patients, such as those recovering from major surgery or other critical conditions such as stroke, trauma or heart failure.
“This is not just a COVID issue,” said Dr. Normaliz Rodriguez, pediatric emergency physician at Johns Hopkins All Children’s Hospital in St. Petersburg, Florida. “This is an everyone issue.”
While the latest hospital crisis echoes previous pandemic spikes, there are troubling differences this time around.
Before, localized COVID-19 hot spots led to bed shortages, but there were usually hospitals in the region not as affected that could accept a transfer.
Now, as the highly contagious delta variant envelops swaths of low-vaccination states all at once, it becomes harder to find nearby hospitals that are not slammed.
“Wait times can now be measured in days,” said Darrell Pile, CEO of the SouthEast Texas Regional Advisory Council, which helps coordinate patient transfers across a 25-county region.
Recently, Dr. Cedric Dark, a Houston emergency physician and assistant professor of emergency medicine at Baylor College of Medicine, said he saw a critically ill COVID-19 patient waiting in the emergency room for an ICU bed to open. The doctor worked eight hours, went home and came in the next day. The patient was still waiting.
Holding a seriously ill patient in an emergency room while waiting for an in-patient bed to open is known as boarding. The longer the wait, the more dangerous it can be for the patient, studies have found.
Not only do patients ultimately end up staying in the hospital or the ICU longer, some research suggests that long waits for a bed will worsen their condition and may increase the risk of in-hospital death.
That’s what happened last month in Texas.
On Aug. 21, around 11:30 a.m., Michelle Puget took her adult son, Daniel Wilkinson, to the Bellville Medical Center’s emergency room as a pain in his abdomen became unbearable. “Mama,” he said, “take me to the hospital.”
Wilkinson, a 46-year-old decorated Army veteran who did two tours of duty in Afghanistan, was ushered into an exam room about half an hour later. Kakli, the emergency room physician there, diagnosed gallstone pancreatitis, a serious but treatable condition that required a specialist to perform a surgical procedure and an ICU bed.
In other times, the transfer to a larger facility would be easy. But soon Kakli found himself on a frantic, six-hour quest to find a bed for his patient. Not only did he call hospitals across Texas, but he also tried Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma and Colorado. It was like throwing darts at a map and hoping to get lucky, he told ProPublica. But no one could or would take the transfer.
By 2:30 p.m., Wilkinson’s condition was deteriorating. Kakli told Puget to come back to the hospital. “I have to tell you,” she said he told her, “Your son is a very, very sick man. If he doesn’t get this procedure he will die.” She began to weep.
Two hours later, Wilkinson’s blood pressure was dropping, signaling his organs were failing, she said.
Kakli went on Facebook and posted an all-caps plea to physician groups around the nation: “GETTING REJECTED BY ALL HOSPITALS IN TEXAS DUE TO NO ICU BEDS. PLEASE HELP. MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE A BED. PATIENT IS IN ER NOW. I AM THE ER DOC. WILL FLY ANYWHERE.”
The doctor tried Michael E. DeBakey VA Medical Center in Houston for a second time. This time he found a bed.
Around 7 p.m., Wilkinson, still conscious but in grave condition, was flown by helicopter to the hospital. He was put in a medically induced coma. Through the night and into the next morning, medical teams worked to stabilize him enough to perform the procedure. They could not.
Doctors told his family the internal damage was catastrophic. “We made the decision we had to let him go,” Puget said.
Time of death: 1:37 p.m. Aug. 22 – 26 hours after he first arrived in the emergency room.
The story was first reported by CBS News. Kakli told ProPublica last week he still sometimes does the math in his head: It should have been 40 minutes from diagnosis in Bellville to transfer to the ICU in Houston. “If he had 40 minutes to wait instead of six hours, I strongly believe he would have had a different outcome.”
Another difference with the latest surge is how it’s affecting children.
Last year, schools were closed, and children were more protected because they were mostly isolated at home. In fact, children’s hospitals were often so empty during previous spikes they opened beds to adult patients.
Now, families are out more. Schools have reopened, some with mask mandates, some without. Vaccines are not yet available to those under 12. Suddenly the numbers of hospitalized children are on the rise, setting up the same type of competition for resources between young COVID-19 patients and those with other illnesses such as new onset diabetes, trauma, pneumonia or appendicitis.
Dr. Rafael Santiago, a pediatric emergency physician in Central Florida, said at Lakeland Regional Health Medical Center, the average number of children coming into the emergency room is around 130 per day. During the lockdown last spring, that number dropped to 33. Last month – “the busiest month ever” – the average daily number of children in the emergency room was 160.
Pediatric transfers are not yet as fraught as adult ones, Santiago said, but it does take more calls than it once did to secure a bed.
Seth Osborn, the 12-year-old whose appendix burst after a long wait, spent five days and four nights in the hospital as doctors pumped his body full of antibiotics to stave off infection from the rupture. The typical hospitalization for a routine appendectomy is about 24 hours.
The initial hospital bill for the stay came to more than $48,000, Nathaniel Osborn said. Although insurance paid for most of it, he said the family still borrowed against its house to cover the more than $5,000 in out-of-pocket costs so far.
While the hospital system where Seth was treated declined to comment about his case because of patient privacy laws, it did email a statement about the strain the pandemic is creating.
“Since July 2021, we have seen a tremendous spike in COVID-19 patients needing care and hospitalization. In mid-August, we saw the highest number of patients hospitalized with COVID-19 across the Cleveland Clinic Florida region, a total of 395 COVID-19 patients in four hospitals. Those hospitals have approximately 1,000 total beds,” the email to ProPublica said. “We strongly encourage vaccination. Approximately 90% of our patients hospitalized due to COVID-19 are unvaccinated.”
On Sunday, The Washington Post reported that a hospital in Alabama called 43 others across three states before finding a bed for Ray DeMonia, a critically ill heart patient who later died. In his obituary his family wrote: “In honor of Ray, please get vaccinated if you have not, in an effort to free up resources for non COVID related emergencies. ... He would not want any other family to go through what his did.”
Today, Seth is mostly recovered. “Twelve-year-old boys bounce back,” his father said. Still, the experience has left Nathaniel Osborn shaken.
The high school history teacher said he likes to stay upbeat and apolitical in his social media musings, posting about Florida wildlife preservation and favorite books. But on Sept. 7, he tweeted: “My 12-year-old had appendicitis. The ER was overwhelmed with unvaccinated Covid patients and we had to wait 6+ hours. While waiting, his appendix ruptured and had to spend 5 days in hospital. ... So yeah, your decision to not vaccinate does affect others.”
It was retweeted 34,700 times, with 143,000 likes. Most comments were sympathetic and wished his child a speedy recovery. Some, though, went straight to hate, apparently triggered by his last line. He was attacked personally and accused of making up the story: “Good try with the guilt, jerk.”
Osborn, who is vaccinated, as are his wife and son, told ProPublica he only shared Seth’s story on Twitter to encourage vaccinations.
“I have no ill will towards the hospitals or the care received at either hospital,” he said this week, “but had these hospitals not been so crowded with COVID patients, we wouldn’t have had to wait so long and perhaps my son’s appendix would not have burst.”
This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published.
Seth was finally diagnosed with appendicitis more than six hours after arriving at Cleveland Clinic Martin Health North Hospital in late July. Around midnight, he was taken by ambulance to a sister hospital about a half-hour away that was better equipped to perform pediatric emergency surgery, his father said.
But by the time the doctor operated in the early morning hours, Seth’s appendix had burst – a potentially fatal complication.
They, too, need emergency care, but the sheer number of COVID-19 cases is crowding them out. Treatment has often been delayed as ERs scramble to find a bed that may be hundreds of miles away.
Some health officials now worry about looming ethical decisions. Last week, Idaho activated a “crisis standard of care,” which one official described as a “last resort.” It allows overwhelmed hospitals to ration care, including “in rare cases, ventilator (breathing machines) or intensive care unit (ICU) beds may need to be used for those who are most likely to survive, while patients who are not likely to survive may not be able to receive one,” the state’s website said.
The federal government’s latest data shows Alabama is at 100% of its intensive care unit capacity, with Texas, Georgia, Mississippi and Arkansas at more than 90% ICU capacity. Florida is just under 90%.
It’s the COVID-19 cases that are dominating. In Georgia, 62% of the ICU beds are now filled with just COVID-19 patients. In Texas, the percentage is nearly half.
To have so many ICU beds pressed into service for a single diagnosis is “unheard of,” said Dr. Hasan Kakli, an emergency room physician at Bellville Medical Center in Bellville, Texas, about an hour from Houston. “It’s approaching apocalyptic.”
In Texas, state data released Monday showed there were only 319 adult and 104 pediatric staffed ICU beds available across a state of 29 million people.
Hospitals need to hold some ICU beds for other patients, such as those recovering from major surgery or other critical conditions such as stroke, trauma or heart failure.
“This is not just a COVID issue,” said Dr. Normaliz Rodriguez, pediatric emergency physician at Johns Hopkins All Children’s Hospital in St. Petersburg, Florida. “This is an everyone issue.”
While the latest hospital crisis echoes previous pandemic spikes, there are troubling differences this time around.
Before, localized COVID-19 hot spots led to bed shortages, but there were usually hospitals in the region not as affected that could accept a transfer.
Now, as the highly contagious delta variant envelops swaths of low-vaccination states all at once, it becomes harder to find nearby hospitals that are not slammed.
“Wait times can now be measured in days,” said Darrell Pile, CEO of the SouthEast Texas Regional Advisory Council, which helps coordinate patient transfers across a 25-county region.
Recently, Dr. Cedric Dark, a Houston emergency physician and assistant professor of emergency medicine at Baylor College of Medicine, said he saw a critically ill COVID-19 patient waiting in the emergency room for an ICU bed to open. The doctor worked eight hours, went home and came in the next day. The patient was still waiting.
Holding a seriously ill patient in an emergency room while waiting for an in-patient bed to open is known as boarding. The longer the wait, the more dangerous it can be for the patient, studies have found.
Not only do patients ultimately end up staying in the hospital or the ICU longer, some research suggests that long waits for a bed will worsen their condition and may increase the risk of in-hospital death.
That’s what happened last month in Texas.
On Aug. 21, around 11:30 a.m., Michelle Puget took her adult son, Daniel Wilkinson, to the Bellville Medical Center’s emergency room as a pain in his abdomen became unbearable. “Mama,” he said, “take me to the hospital.”
Wilkinson, a 46-year-old decorated Army veteran who did two tours of duty in Afghanistan, was ushered into an exam room about half an hour later. Kakli, the emergency room physician there, diagnosed gallstone pancreatitis, a serious but treatable condition that required a specialist to perform a surgical procedure and an ICU bed.
In other times, the transfer to a larger facility would be easy. But soon Kakli found himself on a frantic, six-hour quest to find a bed for his patient. Not only did he call hospitals across Texas, but he also tried Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma and Colorado. It was like throwing darts at a map and hoping to get lucky, he told ProPublica. But no one could or would take the transfer.
By 2:30 p.m., Wilkinson’s condition was deteriorating. Kakli told Puget to come back to the hospital. “I have to tell you,” she said he told her, “Your son is a very, very sick man. If he doesn’t get this procedure he will die.” She began to weep.
Two hours later, Wilkinson’s blood pressure was dropping, signaling his organs were failing, she said.
Kakli went on Facebook and posted an all-caps plea to physician groups around the nation: “GETTING REJECTED BY ALL HOSPITALS IN TEXAS DUE TO NO ICU BEDS. PLEASE HELP. MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE A BED. PATIENT IS IN ER NOW. I AM THE ER DOC. WILL FLY ANYWHERE.”
The doctor tried Michael E. DeBakey VA Medical Center in Houston for a second time. This time he found a bed.
Around 7 p.m., Wilkinson, still conscious but in grave condition, was flown by helicopter to the hospital. He was put in a medically induced coma. Through the night and into the next morning, medical teams worked to stabilize him enough to perform the procedure. They could not.
Doctors told his family the internal damage was catastrophic. “We made the decision we had to let him go,” Puget said.
Time of death: 1:37 p.m. Aug. 22 – 26 hours after he first arrived in the emergency room.
The story was first reported by CBS News. Kakli told ProPublica last week he still sometimes does the math in his head: It should have been 40 minutes from diagnosis in Bellville to transfer to the ICU in Houston. “If he had 40 minutes to wait instead of six hours, I strongly believe he would have had a different outcome.”
Another difference with the latest surge is how it’s affecting children.
Last year, schools were closed, and children were more protected because they were mostly isolated at home. In fact, children’s hospitals were often so empty during previous spikes they opened beds to adult patients.
Now, families are out more. Schools have reopened, some with mask mandates, some without. Vaccines are not yet available to those under 12. Suddenly the numbers of hospitalized children are on the rise, setting up the same type of competition for resources between young COVID-19 patients and those with other illnesses such as new onset diabetes, trauma, pneumonia or appendicitis.
Dr. Rafael Santiago, a pediatric emergency physician in Central Florida, said at Lakeland Regional Health Medical Center, the average number of children coming into the emergency room is around 130 per day. During the lockdown last spring, that number dropped to 33. Last month – “the busiest month ever” – the average daily number of children in the emergency room was 160.
Pediatric transfers are not yet as fraught as adult ones, Santiago said, but it does take more calls than it once did to secure a bed.
Seth Osborn, the 12-year-old whose appendix burst after a long wait, spent five days and four nights in the hospital as doctors pumped his body full of antibiotics to stave off infection from the rupture. The typical hospitalization for a routine appendectomy is about 24 hours.
The initial hospital bill for the stay came to more than $48,000, Nathaniel Osborn said. Although insurance paid for most of it, he said the family still borrowed against its house to cover the more than $5,000 in out-of-pocket costs so far.
While the hospital system where Seth was treated declined to comment about his case because of patient privacy laws, it did email a statement about the strain the pandemic is creating.
“Since July 2021, we have seen a tremendous spike in COVID-19 patients needing care and hospitalization. In mid-August, we saw the highest number of patients hospitalized with COVID-19 across the Cleveland Clinic Florida region, a total of 395 COVID-19 patients in four hospitals. Those hospitals have approximately 1,000 total beds,” the email to ProPublica said. “We strongly encourage vaccination. Approximately 90% of our patients hospitalized due to COVID-19 are unvaccinated.”
On Sunday, The Washington Post reported that a hospital in Alabama called 43 others across three states before finding a bed for Ray DeMonia, a critically ill heart patient who later died. In his obituary his family wrote: “In honor of Ray, please get vaccinated if you have not, in an effort to free up resources for non COVID related emergencies. ... He would not want any other family to go through what his did.”
Today, Seth is mostly recovered. “Twelve-year-old boys bounce back,” his father said. Still, the experience has left Nathaniel Osborn shaken.
The high school history teacher said he likes to stay upbeat and apolitical in his social media musings, posting about Florida wildlife preservation and favorite books. But on Sept. 7, he tweeted: “My 12-year-old had appendicitis. The ER was overwhelmed with unvaccinated Covid patients and we had to wait 6+ hours. While waiting, his appendix ruptured and had to spend 5 days in hospital. ... So yeah, your decision to not vaccinate does affect others.”
It was retweeted 34,700 times, with 143,000 likes. Most comments were sympathetic and wished his child a speedy recovery. Some, though, went straight to hate, apparently triggered by his last line. He was attacked personally and accused of making up the story: “Good try with the guilt, jerk.”
Osborn, who is vaccinated, as are his wife and son, told ProPublica he only shared Seth’s story on Twitter to encourage vaccinations.
“I have no ill will towards the hospitals or the care received at either hospital,” he said this week, “but had these hospitals not been so crowded with COVID patients, we wouldn’t have had to wait so long and perhaps my son’s appendix would not have burst.”
This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published.
Want to see what COVID strain you have? The government says no
Every day, more than 140,000 people in the United States are diagnosed with COVID-19. But no matter how curious they are about which variant they are fighting, none of them will find out.
The country is dotted with labs that sequence the genomes of COVID-19 cases, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention tracks those results. But federal rules say those results are not allowed to make their way back to patients or doctors.
According to public health and infectious disease experts, this is unlikely to change any time soon.
“I know people want to know – I’ve had a lot of friends or family who’ve asked me how they can find out,” says Aubree Gordon, PhD, an epidemiology specialist at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “I think it’s an interesting thing to find out, for sure. And it would certainly be nice to know. But because it probably isn’t necessary, there is little motivation to change the rules.”
Because the tests that are used have not been approved as diagnostic tools under the Clinical Laboratory Improvement Amendments program, which is overseen by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, they can only be used for research purposes.
In fact, the scientists doing the sequencing rarely have any patient information, Dr. Gordon says. For example, the Lauring Lab at University of Michigan – run by Adam Lauring, MD – focuses on viral evolution and currently tests for variants. But this is not done for the sake of the patient or the doctors treating the patient.
“The samples come in ... and they’ve been de-identified,”Dr. Gordon says. “This is just for research purposes. Not much patient information is shared with the researchers.”
But as of now, aside from sheer curiosity, there is not a reason to change this, says Timothy Brewer, MD, a professor of medicine and epidemiology at University of California, Los Angeles.
Although there are emerging variants – including the new Mu variant, also known as B.1.621 and recently classified as a “variant of interest” – the Delta variant accounts for about 99% of U.S. cases.
In addition, Dr. Brewer says, treatments are the same for all COVID-19 patients, regardless of the variant.
“There would have to be some clinical significance for there to be a good reason to give this information,” he says. “That would mean we would be doing something different treatment-wise depending on the variant. As of now, that is not the case.”
There is a loophole that allows labs to release variant information: They can develop their own tests. But they then must go through a lengthy validation process that proves their tests are as effective as the gold standard, says Mark Pandori, PhD, director of the Nevada State Public Health Laboratory.
But even with validation, it is too time-consuming and costly to sequence large numbers of cases, he says.
“The reason we’re not doing it routinely is there’s no way to do the genomic analysis on all the positives,” Dr. Pandori says. “It is about $110 dollars to do a sequence. It’s not like a standard PCR test.”
There is a hypothetical situation that may warrant the release of these results, Dr. Brewer says: If a variant emerges that evades vaccines.
“That would be a real public health issue,” he says. “You want to make sure there aren’t variants emerging somewhere that are escaping immunity.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.
Every day, more than 140,000 people in the United States are diagnosed with COVID-19. But no matter how curious they are about which variant they are fighting, none of them will find out.
The country is dotted with labs that sequence the genomes of COVID-19 cases, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention tracks those results. But federal rules say those results are not allowed to make their way back to patients or doctors.
According to public health and infectious disease experts, this is unlikely to change any time soon.
“I know people want to know – I’ve had a lot of friends or family who’ve asked me how they can find out,” says Aubree Gordon, PhD, an epidemiology specialist at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “I think it’s an interesting thing to find out, for sure. And it would certainly be nice to know. But because it probably isn’t necessary, there is little motivation to change the rules.”
Because the tests that are used have not been approved as diagnostic tools under the Clinical Laboratory Improvement Amendments program, which is overseen by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, they can only be used for research purposes.
In fact, the scientists doing the sequencing rarely have any patient information, Dr. Gordon says. For example, the Lauring Lab at University of Michigan – run by Adam Lauring, MD – focuses on viral evolution and currently tests for variants. But this is not done for the sake of the patient or the doctors treating the patient.
“The samples come in ... and they’ve been de-identified,”Dr. Gordon says. “This is just for research purposes. Not much patient information is shared with the researchers.”
But as of now, aside from sheer curiosity, there is not a reason to change this, says Timothy Brewer, MD, a professor of medicine and epidemiology at University of California, Los Angeles.
Although there are emerging variants – including the new Mu variant, also known as B.1.621 and recently classified as a “variant of interest” – the Delta variant accounts for about 99% of U.S. cases.
In addition, Dr. Brewer says, treatments are the same for all COVID-19 patients, regardless of the variant.
“There would have to be some clinical significance for there to be a good reason to give this information,” he says. “That would mean we would be doing something different treatment-wise depending on the variant. As of now, that is not the case.”
There is a loophole that allows labs to release variant information: They can develop their own tests. But they then must go through a lengthy validation process that proves their tests are as effective as the gold standard, says Mark Pandori, PhD, director of the Nevada State Public Health Laboratory.
But even with validation, it is too time-consuming and costly to sequence large numbers of cases, he says.
“The reason we’re not doing it routinely is there’s no way to do the genomic analysis on all the positives,” Dr. Pandori says. “It is about $110 dollars to do a sequence. It’s not like a standard PCR test.”
There is a hypothetical situation that may warrant the release of these results, Dr. Brewer says: If a variant emerges that evades vaccines.
“That would be a real public health issue,” he says. “You want to make sure there aren’t variants emerging somewhere that are escaping immunity.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.
Every day, more than 140,000 people in the United States are diagnosed with COVID-19. But no matter how curious they are about which variant they are fighting, none of them will find out.
The country is dotted with labs that sequence the genomes of COVID-19 cases, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention tracks those results. But federal rules say those results are not allowed to make their way back to patients or doctors.
According to public health and infectious disease experts, this is unlikely to change any time soon.
“I know people want to know – I’ve had a lot of friends or family who’ve asked me how they can find out,” says Aubree Gordon, PhD, an epidemiology specialist at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “I think it’s an interesting thing to find out, for sure. And it would certainly be nice to know. But because it probably isn’t necessary, there is little motivation to change the rules.”
Because the tests that are used have not been approved as diagnostic tools under the Clinical Laboratory Improvement Amendments program, which is overseen by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, they can only be used for research purposes.
In fact, the scientists doing the sequencing rarely have any patient information, Dr. Gordon says. For example, the Lauring Lab at University of Michigan – run by Adam Lauring, MD – focuses on viral evolution and currently tests for variants. But this is not done for the sake of the patient or the doctors treating the patient.
“The samples come in ... and they’ve been de-identified,”Dr. Gordon says. “This is just for research purposes. Not much patient information is shared with the researchers.”
But as of now, aside from sheer curiosity, there is not a reason to change this, says Timothy Brewer, MD, a professor of medicine and epidemiology at University of California, Los Angeles.
Although there are emerging variants – including the new Mu variant, also known as B.1.621 and recently classified as a “variant of interest” – the Delta variant accounts for about 99% of U.S. cases.
In addition, Dr. Brewer says, treatments are the same for all COVID-19 patients, regardless of the variant.
“There would have to be some clinical significance for there to be a good reason to give this information,” he says. “That would mean we would be doing something different treatment-wise depending on the variant. As of now, that is not the case.”
There is a loophole that allows labs to release variant information: They can develop their own tests. But they then must go through a lengthy validation process that proves their tests are as effective as the gold standard, says Mark Pandori, PhD, director of the Nevada State Public Health Laboratory.
But even with validation, it is too time-consuming and costly to sequence large numbers of cases, he says.
“The reason we’re not doing it routinely is there’s no way to do the genomic analysis on all the positives,” Dr. Pandori says. “It is about $110 dollars to do a sequence. It’s not like a standard PCR test.”
There is a hypothetical situation that may warrant the release of these results, Dr. Brewer says: If a variant emerges that evades vaccines.
“That would be a real public health issue,” he says. “You want to make sure there aren’t variants emerging somewhere that are escaping immunity.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.