Diversity in Medicine

If a patient refuses care from a health care practitioner because of their race or sex, should their request be accommodated?

In a recent blog on Medscape titled “No, You Can’t See a Different Doctor: We Need Zero Tolerance of Patient Bias,” Cleveland Francis Jr., MD, argued no.

Dr. Francis, who is Black, is a recently retired cardiologist who practiced for 50 years. He is currently Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Advisor at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute in Falls Church, Va.

When Francis was a medical student and was preparing to take a patient’s history and perform a medical exam, the patient refused and requested a “White doctor,” he recounted.

“I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday,” he wrote.

The blog, especially the title, drew strong reactions. Close to 500 readers weighed in.

“The title of my blog sounds harsh,” Dr. Francis said, “but in reality, a simple conversation with the patient usually resolves these issues. The difference is that in the old days, there was utter silence, and the wishes of the patient would be granted”

Health care practitioners “should expect to be treated with respect,” he concluded his blog.

Readers agreed on that point, but they debated whether being uncomfortable with a health care practitioner of a different sex or race always constituted “patient bias.”

Some noted that difficulty understanding a practitioner’s accent, for example, is a legitimate reason for asking for another clinician.
 

Accents and understanding

“If I am struggling to understand you because your accent is too thick or ... because hearing aids can only do so much, I need to ask for someone else,” a reader commented.

Another chimed in: “My elderly parents changed PCPs frequently during the final years of their lives, mainly due to language barriers encountered with foreign-born providers. Due to progressive hearing loss, they simply couldn’t understand them.”

“It is important to remember that there is a Patient Bill of Rights,” she noted, “the first part of which states, ‘You have the right to safe, considerate, and respectful care, provided in a manner consistent with your beliefs.’ ”

A former charge nurse added: “If a request for change was substantive (poor communication, perceived incompetence, trauma history, etc.), I would move mountains to accommodate it, but IMHO [in my humble opinion], the belief in honoring patient preference doesn’t necessarily need to include rearranging the world in order to accommodate racism, sexism, etc.”

Bias against female doctors, male nurses

Many commenters described how they gladly traded when a patient requested a practitioner of the opposite sex.

A female hospitalist related how she contacted the senior male doctor working with her to arrange a patient trade, adding, “I do agree that racial discrimination ought to be discouraged.”

Similarly, a male ICU RN commented: “Over 13 years, I have had a handful of female (usually older) patients request a female nurse. I have always strived to make this happen.”

However, an older woman related how at first she “had some bias against a male nurse touching me and also felt self-conscious,” she said. “So, I tried to relax ... and let him do his job. He was one of the most compassionate, kind, and sensitive nurses I’ve ever had.”

“I think in some cases,” she noted, “some women have had a history of some sort of abuse by a male, whether it’s sexual or psychological,” but in other cases, “it’s often just a personal preference, not a bias.”

A physician assistant (PA) who worked in a rural ED recounted how “there was only one physician and one PA on at any given evening/night shift, both usually White males.”

“Sometimes, you just have to cope as best you can with whomever is available, and in doing so,” he said, “they might just end up being pleasantly surprised.”
 

Don’t take it personally, move on

“If a patient doesn’t want to see me for whatever reason, then I would rather not treat them,” was a common sentiment.

Patients “should feel comfortable with their provider even if it’s with someone other than myself,” a reader wrote.

A female physician chimed in: “I frequently have older male patients refuse to see me. ... While this is irritating on several levels, I recognize that it is the patient’s choice, sigh, and move on to the next patient.”

“There are many more patients who specifically ask to see me, so I don’t waste my time and energy on being bothered by those who refuse.”

Similarly, a female mental health provider and sometimes patient wrote: “If any patient tells me that they prefer a male ... or someone of a particular race or religion or whatever, I don’t take it personally.”

A female Hispanic doctor chimed in: “Honestly, if a patient does not want to see me due to my race, I’m OK with that. Patients need to feel comfortable with me for the relationship to be therapeutic and effective,” she said.

“Forcing the patient to see me is adding injury to insult to ME! Not to mention increase[d] workload since that patient will take [so] much more time.”

Similarly, an Asian American doctor commented: “There are people who choose not to see me because of my ethnicity. However, I strongly believe that it should always be the patient’s preference. Whatever the reason, do not force the patient to see you in the name of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, or whatever hurts your feeling. Let the patient go.”
 

Patient bias vs. patient preference

A physician referring to Dr. Francis’s experience suggested that “perhaps there was an opportunity to explore this misconception directly with the patient. If not, your supervising senior resident or attending should have been informed and brought into the process and conversation.”

“If/when I were rejected by a patient for whatever reason,” another physician commented, “I would gracefully accede, and hope that my colleague would tactfully point out to the patient their error.”

“Having a nurse ask the patient ... what they need style-wise (keeping race, gender, etc., out of it) might help identify whether or not the underlying issue(s) are based on style/needs mismatch match rather than bias,” a reader suggested.

A health care worker commented: “We generally assure patients that we are professionals and think nothing of situations that they might find uncomfortable, but don’t realize that our comfort does not translate to theirs.”
 

Maybe a different strategy is needed

“Having been the target of bias many times,” a reader said, “I understand the pain that is inflicted. Unfortunately, a patient bias policy, while a good idea, will not prevent patient bias. This is a much larger societal problem. But we can at least tell patients that it is not okay. On the other hand, I would not want to be the provider for a patient who was biased against me and held me in disdain.”

“I do not like Zero Tolerance policies ever. They are too absolute,” another reader commented. “Sometimes, there are reasons and we do have to listen to our patients for why. ... I do not think a policy of zero tolerance will fix the problem of racism.”

“Instead of trying to educate the general public about how not to be jerks,” another reader suggested, “perhaps it would be easier to provide elective classes for doctors and employees who believe themselves to be at-risk for discrimination, providing them with a ‘toolkit’ of strategies for responding to discrimination in the moment, processing it emotionally later on, and reporting the most egregious events through designated channels.”

Another commenter agreed and wrote that, “While we as doctors need and deserve protection, we are also called to act with compassion. So, rather than ask the system for ‘zero-tolerance’ in either direction, we could encourage our health systems to provide education, support, and mediation to any party who feels or fears that they are not being well served. Such a model would include support for physicians who have been the victims of bias and hurt.”

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

If a patient refuses care from a health care practitioner because of their race or sex, should their request be accommodated?

In a recent blog on Medscape titled “No, You Can’t See a Different Doctor: We Need Zero Tolerance of Patient Bias,” Cleveland Francis Jr., MD, argued no.

Dr. Francis, who is Black, is a recently retired cardiologist who practiced for 50 years. He is currently Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Advisor at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute in Falls Church, Va.

When Francis was a medical student and was preparing to take a patient’s history and perform a medical exam, the patient refused and requested a “White doctor,” he recounted.

“I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday,” he wrote.

The blog, especially the title, drew strong reactions. Close to 500 readers weighed in.

“The title of my blog sounds harsh,” Dr. Francis said, “but in reality, a simple conversation with the patient usually resolves these issues. The difference is that in the old days, there was utter silence, and the wishes of the patient would be granted”

Health care practitioners “should expect to be treated with respect,” he concluded his blog.

Readers agreed on that point, but they debated whether being uncomfortable with a health care practitioner of a different sex or race always constituted “patient bias.”

Some noted that difficulty understanding a practitioner’s accent, for example, is a legitimate reason for asking for another clinician.
 

Accents and understanding

“If I am struggling to understand you because your accent is too thick or ... because hearing aids can only do so much, I need to ask for someone else,” a reader commented.

Another chimed in: “My elderly parents changed PCPs frequently during the final years of their lives, mainly due to language barriers encountered with foreign-born providers. Due to progressive hearing loss, they simply couldn’t understand them.”

“It is important to remember that there is a Patient Bill of Rights,” she noted, “the first part of which states, ‘You have the right to safe, considerate, and respectful care, provided in a manner consistent with your beliefs.’ ”

A former charge nurse added: “If a request for change was substantive (poor communication, perceived incompetence, trauma history, etc.), I would move mountains to accommodate it, but IMHO [in my humble opinion], the belief in honoring patient preference doesn’t necessarily need to include rearranging the world in order to accommodate racism, sexism, etc.”

Bias against female doctors, male nurses

Many commenters described how they gladly traded when a patient requested a practitioner of the opposite sex.

A female hospitalist related how she contacted the senior male doctor working with her to arrange a patient trade, adding, “I do agree that racial discrimination ought to be discouraged.”

Similarly, a male ICU RN commented: “Over 13 years, I have had a handful of female (usually older) patients request a female nurse. I have always strived to make this happen.”

However, an older woman related how at first she “had some bias against a male nurse touching me and also felt self-conscious,” she said. “So, I tried to relax ... and let him do his job. He was one of the most compassionate, kind, and sensitive nurses I’ve ever had.”

“I think in some cases,” she noted, “some women have had a history of some sort of abuse by a male, whether it’s sexual or psychological,” but in other cases, “it’s often just a personal preference, not a bias.”

A physician assistant (PA) who worked in a rural ED recounted how “there was only one physician and one PA on at any given evening/night shift, both usually White males.”

“Sometimes, you just have to cope as best you can with whomever is available, and in doing so,” he said, “they might just end up being pleasantly surprised.”
 

Don’t take it personally, move on

“If a patient doesn’t want to see me for whatever reason, then I would rather not treat them,” was a common sentiment.

Patients “should feel comfortable with their provider even if it’s with someone other than myself,” a reader wrote.

A female physician chimed in: “I frequently have older male patients refuse to see me. ... While this is irritating on several levels, I recognize that it is the patient’s choice, sigh, and move on to the next patient.”

“There are many more patients who specifically ask to see me, so I don’t waste my time and energy on being bothered by those who refuse.”

Similarly, a female mental health provider and sometimes patient wrote: “If any patient tells me that they prefer a male ... or someone of a particular race or religion or whatever, I don’t take it personally.”

A female Hispanic doctor chimed in: “Honestly, if a patient does not want to see me due to my race, I’m OK with that. Patients need to feel comfortable with me for the relationship to be therapeutic and effective,” she said.

“Forcing the patient to see me is adding injury to insult to ME! Not to mention increase[d] workload since that patient will take [so] much more time.”

Similarly, an Asian American doctor commented: “There are people who choose not to see me because of my ethnicity. However, I strongly believe that it should always be the patient’s preference. Whatever the reason, do not force the patient to see you in the name of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, or whatever hurts your feeling. Let the patient go.”
 

Patient bias vs. patient preference

A physician referring to Dr. Francis’s experience suggested that “perhaps there was an opportunity to explore this misconception directly with the patient. If not, your supervising senior resident or attending should have been informed and brought into the process and conversation.”

“If/when I were rejected by a patient for whatever reason,” another physician commented, “I would gracefully accede, and hope that my colleague would tactfully point out to the patient their error.”

“Having a nurse ask the patient ... what they need style-wise (keeping race, gender, etc., out of it) might help identify whether or not the underlying issue(s) are based on style/needs mismatch match rather than bias,” a reader suggested.

A health care worker commented: “We generally assure patients that we are professionals and think nothing of situations that they might find uncomfortable, but don’t realize that our comfort does not translate to theirs.”
 

Maybe a different strategy is needed

“Having been the target of bias many times,” a reader said, “I understand the pain that is inflicted. Unfortunately, a patient bias policy, while a good idea, will not prevent patient bias. This is a much larger societal problem. But we can at least tell patients that it is not okay. On the other hand, I would not want to be the provider for a patient who was biased against me and held me in disdain.”

“I do not like Zero Tolerance policies ever. They are too absolute,” another reader commented. “Sometimes, there are reasons and we do have to listen to our patients for why. ... I do not think a policy of zero tolerance will fix the problem of racism.”

“Instead of trying to educate the general public about how not to be jerks,” another reader suggested, “perhaps it would be easier to provide elective classes for doctors and employees who believe themselves to be at-risk for discrimination, providing them with a ‘toolkit’ of strategies for responding to discrimination in the moment, processing it emotionally later on, and reporting the most egregious events through designated channels.”

Another commenter agreed and wrote that, “While we as doctors need and deserve protection, we are also called to act with compassion. So, rather than ask the system for ‘zero-tolerance’ in either direction, we could encourage our health systems to provide education, support, and mediation to any party who feels or fears that they are not being well served. Such a model would include support for physicians who have been the victims of bias and hurt.”

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

If a patient refuses care from a health care practitioner because of their race or sex, should their request be accommodated?

In a recent blog on Medscape titled “No, You Can’t See a Different Doctor: We Need Zero Tolerance of Patient Bias,” Cleveland Francis Jr., MD, argued no.

Dr. Francis, who is Black, is a recently retired cardiologist who practiced for 50 years. He is currently Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Advisor at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute in Falls Church, Va.

When Francis was a medical student and was preparing to take a patient’s history and perform a medical exam, the patient refused and requested a “White doctor,” he recounted.

“I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday,” he wrote.

The blog, especially the title, drew strong reactions. Close to 500 readers weighed in.

“The title of my blog sounds harsh,” Dr. Francis said, “but in reality, a simple conversation with the patient usually resolves these issues. The difference is that in the old days, there was utter silence, and the wishes of the patient would be granted”

Health care practitioners “should expect to be treated with respect,” he concluded his blog.

Readers agreed on that point, but they debated whether being uncomfortable with a health care practitioner of a different sex or race always constituted “patient bias.”

Some noted that difficulty understanding a practitioner’s accent, for example, is a legitimate reason for asking for another clinician.
 

Accents and understanding

“If I am struggling to understand you because your accent is too thick or ... because hearing aids can only do so much, I need to ask for someone else,” a reader commented.

Another chimed in: “My elderly parents changed PCPs frequently during the final years of their lives, mainly due to language barriers encountered with foreign-born providers. Due to progressive hearing loss, they simply couldn’t understand them.”

“It is important to remember that there is a Patient Bill of Rights,” she noted, “the first part of which states, ‘You have the right to safe, considerate, and respectful care, provided in a manner consistent with your beliefs.’ ”

A former charge nurse added: “If a request for change was substantive (poor communication, perceived incompetence, trauma history, etc.), I would move mountains to accommodate it, but IMHO [in my humble opinion], the belief in honoring patient preference doesn’t necessarily need to include rearranging the world in order to accommodate racism, sexism, etc.”

Bias against female doctors, male nurses

Many commenters described how they gladly traded when a patient requested a practitioner of the opposite sex.

A female hospitalist related how she contacted the senior male doctor working with her to arrange a patient trade, adding, “I do agree that racial discrimination ought to be discouraged.”

Similarly, a male ICU RN commented: “Over 13 years, I have had a handful of female (usually older) patients request a female nurse. I have always strived to make this happen.”

However, an older woman related how at first she “had some bias against a male nurse touching me and also felt self-conscious,” she said. “So, I tried to relax ... and let him do his job. He was one of the most compassionate, kind, and sensitive nurses I’ve ever had.”

“I think in some cases,” she noted, “some women have had a history of some sort of abuse by a male, whether it’s sexual or psychological,” but in other cases, “it’s often just a personal preference, not a bias.”

A physician assistant (PA) who worked in a rural ED recounted how “there was only one physician and one PA on at any given evening/night shift, both usually White males.”

“Sometimes, you just have to cope as best you can with whomever is available, and in doing so,” he said, “they might just end up being pleasantly surprised.”
 

Don’t take it personally, move on

“If a patient doesn’t want to see me for whatever reason, then I would rather not treat them,” was a common sentiment.

Patients “should feel comfortable with their provider even if it’s with someone other than myself,” a reader wrote.

A female physician chimed in: “I frequently have older male patients refuse to see me. ... While this is irritating on several levels, I recognize that it is the patient’s choice, sigh, and move on to the next patient.”

“There are many more patients who specifically ask to see me, so I don’t waste my time and energy on being bothered by those who refuse.”

Similarly, a female mental health provider and sometimes patient wrote: “If any patient tells me that they prefer a male ... or someone of a particular race or religion or whatever, I don’t take it personally.”

A female Hispanic doctor chimed in: “Honestly, if a patient does not want to see me due to my race, I’m OK with that. Patients need to feel comfortable with me for the relationship to be therapeutic and effective,” she said.

“Forcing the patient to see me is adding injury to insult to ME! Not to mention increase[d] workload since that patient will take [so] much more time.”

Similarly, an Asian American doctor commented: “There are people who choose not to see me because of my ethnicity. However, I strongly believe that it should always be the patient’s preference. Whatever the reason, do not force the patient to see you in the name of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, or whatever hurts your feeling. Let the patient go.”
 

Patient bias vs. patient preference

A physician referring to Dr. Francis’s experience suggested that “perhaps there was an opportunity to explore this misconception directly with the patient. If not, your supervising senior resident or attending should have been informed and brought into the process and conversation.”

“If/when I were rejected by a patient for whatever reason,” another physician commented, “I would gracefully accede, and hope that my colleague would tactfully point out to the patient their error.”

“Having a nurse ask the patient ... what they need style-wise (keeping race, gender, etc., out of it) might help identify whether or not the underlying issue(s) are based on style/needs mismatch match rather than bias,” a reader suggested.

A health care worker commented: “We generally assure patients that we are professionals and think nothing of situations that they might find uncomfortable, but don’t realize that our comfort does not translate to theirs.”
 

Maybe a different strategy is needed

“Having been the target of bias many times,” a reader said, “I understand the pain that is inflicted. Unfortunately, a patient bias policy, while a good idea, will not prevent patient bias. This is a much larger societal problem. But we can at least tell patients that it is not okay. On the other hand, I would not want to be the provider for a patient who was biased against me and held me in disdain.”

“I do not like Zero Tolerance policies ever. They are too absolute,” another reader commented. “Sometimes, there are reasons and we do have to listen to our patients for why. ... I do not think a policy of zero tolerance will fix the problem of racism.”

“Instead of trying to educate the general public about how not to be jerks,” another reader suggested, “perhaps it would be easier to provide elective classes for doctors and employees who believe themselves to be at-risk for discrimination, providing them with a ‘toolkit’ of strategies for responding to discrimination in the moment, processing it emotionally later on, and reporting the most egregious events through designated channels.”

Another commenter agreed and wrote that, “While we as doctors need and deserve protection, we are also called to act with compassion. So, rather than ask the system for ‘zero-tolerance’ in either direction, we could encourage our health systems to provide education, support, and mediation to any party who feels or fears that they are not being well served. Such a model would include support for physicians who have been the victims of bias and hurt.”

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

Doctors are more likely to miss appendicitis in patients who are Black, research shows.

This phenomenon, first described in children, occurs in adults as well, according to a study published in JAMA Surgery.

Some hospitals fare better than others: Those with more diverse patient populations were less likely to have missed the diagnosis, the researchers found.

“We don’t think the amount of melanin in your skin predicts how you present with appendicitis,” said Jonathan Carter, MD, professor of surgery at the University of California, San Francisco. “There’s no biological explanation,” Dr. Carter, who wrote an invited commentary on the research, said in an interview. “It’s really what’s going on in the social environment of those emergency rooms.”

For the study, Anne Stey, MD, assistant professor of surgery at Northwestern University in Chicago and her colleagues analyzed data from more than 80,000 men and women in four states – Florida, Maryland, New York, and Wisconsin – who underwent appendectomy in 2016-2017.

They identified those who had been seen for abdominal complaints at a hospital in the week before surgery but did not receive a diagnosis of appendicitis at that time, indicating a missed opportunity to intervene sooner.

Among Black patients, the proportion who had experienced this type of delay was 3.6%, whereas for White patients, it was 2.5%. For Hispanic patients, the share was 2.4%, while for Asian or Pacific Islander patients, the figure was 1.5%.

An analysis that controlled for patient and hospital variables found that among non-Hispanic Black patients, the rate of delayed diagnosis was 1.41 times higher than for non-Hispanic White patients (95% confidence interval, 1.21-1.63).

Other patient factors associated with delayed diagnosis included female sex, comorbidities, and living in a low-income zip code.

A key factor was where patients sought care. A delayed diagnosis of appendicitis was 3.51 times more likely for patients who went to hospitals where most patients are insured by Medicaid. Prior research has shown that “safety-net hospitals have fewer resources and may provide lower-quality care than hospitals with a larger private payer population,” Dr. Stey’s group writes.

On the other hand, going to a hospital with a more diverse patient population reduced the odds of a delayed diagnosis.

“Patients presenting to hospitals with a greater than 50% Black and Hispanic population were 0.73 (95% CI, 0.59-0.91) times less likely to have a delayed diagnosis, compared with patients presenting to hospitals with a less than 25% Black and Hispanic population,” the researchers report.

In the 30 days after discharge following appendectomy, Black patients returned to the hospital at a higher rate than White patients did (17.5% vs. 11.4%), indicating worse outcomes.

“Delayed diagnosis may account for some of the racial and ethnic disparities observed in outcomes after appendicitis,” according to the authors.

“It may be hospitals that are more used to serving racial-ethnic minority patients are better at diagnosing them, because they’re more culturally informed and have a better understanding of these patients,” Dr. Stey said in a news release about their findings.
 

Great masquerader

Diagnosing appendicitis can be challenging, Dr. Carter said. The early signs can be subtle, and the condition is sometimes called the great masquerader. It is not uncommon for patients to be diagnosed with gastroenteritis or pain associated with their menstrual period, for example, and sent home.

Scoring systems based on patients’ symptoms and liberal use of imaging have improved detection of appendicitis, but “no physician or health care system is perfect in the diagnosis,” he said.

The increased odds of delayed diagnosis for Black patients remained when the researchers focused on healthier patients who had fewer comorbidities, and it also held when they considered patients with private insurance in high-income areas, Dr. Carter noted.

“Once again, with this study we see the association of structural and systematic racism with access to health care, especially for Black patients, in emergency departments and hospitals,” he wrote. “We must redouble our efforts to become anti-racist in ourselves, our institutions, and our profession.”
 

‘Our health care system itself’

Elizabeth Garner, MD, MPH, a pharmaceutical executive who was not involved in the study, commented on Twitter that the study points to an underlying issue that has existed in medicine “for quite some time.”

“Minority populations are not taken as seriously as their white counterparts,” she wrote. “This needs to change.”

Measures of hospital quality need to be tied to health equity, according to Mofya Diallo, MD, MPH, of the department of anesthesiology at the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles and the University of Southern California, Los Angeles.

“Top hospitals should take pride in outcomes that do not vary based on race, income or literacy,” she tweeted in response to the study.

To better understand possible reasons for delayed diagnosis, future researchers could assess whether patients who are Black are less likely to receive a surgical consultation, imaging studies, or lab work, Dr. Carter told this news organization. He pointed to a recent analysis of patients insured by Medicare that found that Black patients were less likely than White patients to receive a surgical consultation after they were admitted with colorectal, general abdominal, hepatopancreatobiliary, intestinal obstruction, or upper gastrointestinal diagnoses.

While social determinants of health, such as income, education, housing, early childhood development, employment, and social inclusion, may account for a substantial portion of health outcomes, “Our health care system itself can be viewed as another social determinant of health,” Dr. Carter wrote. “Insurance coverage, health care professional availability, health care professional linguistic and cultural competency, and quality of care all have an effect on health outcomes.”

Dr. Stey was supported by grants from the American College of Surgeons and the National Institutes of Health.

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

Doctors are more likely to miss appendicitis in patients who are Black, research shows.

This phenomenon, first described in children, occurs in adults as well, according to a study published in JAMA Surgery.

Some hospitals fare better than others: Those with more diverse patient populations were less likely to have missed the diagnosis, the researchers found.

“We don’t think the amount of melanin in your skin predicts how you present with appendicitis,” said Jonathan Carter, MD, professor of surgery at the University of California, San Francisco. “There’s no biological explanation,” Dr. Carter, who wrote an invited commentary on the research, said in an interview. “It’s really what’s going on in the social environment of those emergency rooms.”

For the study, Anne Stey, MD, assistant professor of surgery at Northwestern University in Chicago and her colleagues analyzed data from more than 80,000 men and women in four states – Florida, Maryland, New York, and Wisconsin – who underwent appendectomy in 2016-2017.

They identified those who had been seen for abdominal complaints at a hospital in the week before surgery but did not receive a diagnosis of appendicitis at that time, indicating a missed opportunity to intervene sooner.

Among Black patients, the proportion who had experienced this type of delay was 3.6%, whereas for White patients, it was 2.5%. For Hispanic patients, the share was 2.4%, while for Asian or Pacific Islander patients, the figure was 1.5%.

An analysis that controlled for patient and hospital variables found that among non-Hispanic Black patients, the rate of delayed diagnosis was 1.41 times higher than for non-Hispanic White patients (95% confidence interval, 1.21-1.63).

Other patient factors associated with delayed diagnosis included female sex, comorbidities, and living in a low-income zip code.

A key factor was where patients sought care. A delayed diagnosis of appendicitis was 3.51 times more likely for patients who went to hospitals where most patients are insured by Medicaid. Prior research has shown that “safety-net hospitals have fewer resources and may provide lower-quality care than hospitals with a larger private payer population,” Dr. Stey’s group writes.

On the other hand, going to a hospital with a more diverse patient population reduced the odds of a delayed diagnosis.

“Patients presenting to hospitals with a greater than 50% Black and Hispanic population were 0.73 (95% CI, 0.59-0.91) times less likely to have a delayed diagnosis, compared with patients presenting to hospitals with a less than 25% Black and Hispanic population,” the researchers report.

In the 30 days after discharge following appendectomy, Black patients returned to the hospital at a higher rate than White patients did (17.5% vs. 11.4%), indicating worse outcomes.

“Delayed diagnosis may account for some of the racial and ethnic disparities observed in outcomes after appendicitis,” according to the authors.

“It may be hospitals that are more used to serving racial-ethnic minority patients are better at diagnosing them, because they’re more culturally informed and have a better understanding of these patients,” Dr. Stey said in a news release about their findings.
 

Great masquerader

Diagnosing appendicitis can be challenging, Dr. Carter said. The early signs can be subtle, and the condition is sometimes called the great masquerader. It is not uncommon for patients to be diagnosed with gastroenteritis or pain associated with their menstrual period, for example, and sent home.

Scoring systems based on patients’ symptoms and liberal use of imaging have improved detection of appendicitis, but “no physician or health care system is perfect in the diagnosis,” he said.

The increased odds of delayed diagnosis for Black patients remained when the researchers focused on healthier patients who had fewer comorbidities, and it also held when they considered patients with private insurance in high-income areas, Dr. Carter noted.

“Once again, with this study we see the association of structural and systematic racism with access to health care, especially for Black patients, in emergency departments and hospitals,” he wrote. “We must redouble our efforts to become anti-racist in ourselves, our institutions, and our profession.”
 

‘Our health care system itself’

Elizabeth Garner, MD, MPH, a pharmaceutical executive who was not involved in the study, commented on Twitter that the study points to an underlying issue that has existed in medicine “for quite some time.”

“Minority populations are not taken as seriously as their white counterparts,” she wrote. “This needs to change.”

Measures of hospital quality need to be tied to health equity, according to Mofya Diallo, MD, MPH, of the department of anesthesiology at the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles and the University of Southern California, Los Angeles.

“Top hospitals should take pride in outcomes that do not vary based on race, income or literacy,” she tweeted in response to the study.

To better understand possible reasons for delayed diagnosis, future researchers could assess whether patients who are Black are less likely to receive a surgical consultation, imaging studies, or lab work, Dr. Carter told this news organization. He pointed to a recent analysis of patients insured by Medicare that found that Black patients were less likely than White patients to receive a surgical consultation after they were admitted with colorectal, general abdominal, hepatopancreatobiliary, intestinal obstruction, or upper gastrointestinal diagnoses.

While social determinants of health, such as income, education, housing, early childhood development, employment, and social inclusion, may account for a substantial portion of health outcomes, “Our health care system itself can be viewed as another social determinant of health,” Dr. Carter wrote. “Insurance coverage, health care professional availability, health care professional linguistic and cultural competency, and quality of care all have an effect on health outcomes.”

Dr. Stey was supported by grants from the American College of Surgeons and the National Institutes of Health.

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

Doctors are more likely to miss appendicitis in patients who are Black, research shows.

This phenomenon, first described in children, occurs in adults as well, according to a study published in JAMA Surgery.

Some hospitals fare better than others: Those with more diverse patient populations were less likely to have missed the diagnosis, the researchers found.

“We don’t think the amount of melanin in your skin predicts how you present with appendicitis,” said Jonathan Carter, MD, professor of surgery at the University of California, San Francisco. “There’s no biological explanation,” Dr. Carter, who wrote an invited commentary on the research, said in an interview. “It’s really what’s going on in the social environment of those emergency rooms.”

For the study, Anne Stey, MD, assistant professor of surgery at Northwestern University in Chicago and her colleagues analyzed data from more than 80,000 men and women in four states – Florida, Maryland, New York, and Wisconsin – who underwent appendectomy in 2016-2017.

They identified those who had been seen for abdominal complaints at a hospital in the week before surgery but did not receive a diagnosis of appendicitis at that time, indicating a missed opportunity to intervene sooner.

Among Black patients, the proportion who had experienced this type of delay was 3.6%, whereas for White patients, it was 2.5%. For Hispanic patients, the share was 2.4%, while for Asian or Pacific Islander patients, the figure was 1.5%.

An analysis that controlled for patient and hospital variables found that among non-Hispanic Black patients, the rate of delayed diagnosis was 1.41 times higher than for non-Hispanic White patients (95% confidence interval, 1.21-1.63).

Other patient factors associated with delayed diagnosis included female sex, comorbidities, and living in a low-income zip code.

A key factor was where patients sought care. A delayed diagnosis of appendicitis was 3.51 times more likely for patients who went to hospitals where most patients are insured by Medicaid. Prior research has shown that “safety-net hospitals have fewer resources and may provide lower-quality care than hospitals with a larger private payer population,” Dr. Stey’s group writes.

On the other hand, going to a hospital with a more diverse patient population reduced the odds of a delayed diagnosis.

“Patients presenting to hospitals with a greater than 50% Black and Hispanic population were 0.73 (95% CI, 0.59-0.91) times less likely to have a delayed diagnosis, compared with patients presenting to hospitals with a less than 25% Black and Hispanic population,” the researchers report.

In the 30 days after discharge following appendectomy, Black patients returned to the hospital at a higher rate than White patients did (17.5% vs. 11.4%), indicating worse outcomes.

“Delayed diagnosis may account for some of the racial and ethnic disparities observed in outcomes after appendicitis,” according to the authors.

“It may be hospitals that are more used to serving racial-ethnic minority patients are better at diagnosing them, because they’re more culturally informed and have a better understanding of these patients,” Dr. Stey said in a news release about their findings.
 

Great masquerader

Diagnosing appendicitis can be challenging, Dr. Carter said. The early signs can be subtle, and the condition is sometimes called the great masquerader. It is not uncommon for patients to be diagnosed with gastroenteritis or pain associated with their menstrual period, for example, and sent home.

Scoring systems based on patients’ symptoms and liberal use of imaging have improved detection of appendicitis, but “no physician or health care system is perfect in the diagnosis,” he said.

The increased odds of delayed diagnosis for Black patients remained when the researchers focused on healthier patients who had fewer comorbidities, and it also held when they considered patients with private insurance in high-income areas, Dr. Carter noted.

“Once again, with this study we see the association of structural and systematic racism with access to health care, especially for Black patients, in emergency departments and hospitals,” he wrote. “We must redouble our efforts to become anti-racist in ourselves, our institutions, and our profession.”
 

‘Our health care system itself’

Elizabeth Garner, MD, MPH, a pharmaceutical executive who was not involved in the study, commented on Twitter that the study points to an underlying issue that has existed in medicine “for quite some time.”

“Minority populations are not taken as seriously as their white counterparts,” she wrote. “This needs to change.”

Measures of hospital quality need to be tied to health equity, according to Mofya Diallo, MD, MPH, of the department of anesthesiology at the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles and the University of Southern California, Los Angeles.

“Top hospitals should take pride in outcomes that do not vary based on race, income or literacy,” she tweeted in response to the study.

To better understand possible reasons for delayed diagnosis, future researchers could assess whether patients who are Black are less likely to receive a surgical consultation, imaging studies, or lab work, Dr. Carter told this news organization. He pointed to a recent analysis of patients insured by Medicare that found that Black patients were less likely than White patients to receive a surgical consultation after they were admitted with colorectal, general abdominal, hepatopancreatobiliary, intestinal obstruction, or upper gastrointestinal diagnoses.

While social determinants of health, such as income, education, housing, early childhood development, employment, and social inclusion, may account for a substantial portion of health outcomes, “Our health care system itself can be viewed as another social determinant of health,” Dr. Carter wrote. “Insurance coverage, health care professional availability, health care professional linguistic and cultural competency, and quality of care all have an effect on health outcomes.”

Dr. Stey was supported by grants from the American College of Surgeons and the National Institutes of Health.

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

The rising national suicide rate is being driven by increases among younger people and among people of color, according to a new report. 

Significant increases in suicide occurred among Native American, Black and Hispanic people, with a startling rise among young Black people. Meanwhile, the rate of suicide among older people declined between 2018 and 2021, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has reported.

In 2021, 48,183 people died by suicide in the United States, which equates to a suicide rate of 14.1 per 100,000 people. That level equals the 2018 suicide rate, which had seen a peak that was followed by declines associated with the pandemic.

Experts said rebounding suicide rates are common following times of crisis, such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Suicide declines have also occurred during times of war and natural disaster, when psychological resilience tends to increase and people work together to overcome shared adversity.

“That will wane, and then you will see rebounding in suicide rates. That is, in fact, what we feared would happen. And it has happened, at least in 2021,” Christine Moutier, MD, chief medical officer of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, told the New York Times.

The new CDC report found that the largest increase was among Black people aged 10-24 years, who experienced a 36.6% increase in suicide rate between 2018 and 2021. While Black people experience mental illness at the same rates as that of the general population, historically they have disproportionately limited access to mental health care, according to the American Psychiatric Association.

CDC report authors noted that some of the biggest increases in suicide rates occurred among groups most affected by the pandemic. 

From 2018 to 2021, the suicide rate for people aged 25-44 increased among Native Americans by 33.7% and among Black people by 22.9%. Suicide increased among multiracial people by 20.6% and among Hispanic or Latinx people by 19.4%. Among White people of all ages, the suicide rate declined or remained steady.

“As the nation continues to respond to the short- and long-term impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic, remaining vigilant in prevention efforts is critical, especially among disproportionately affected populations where longer-term impacts might compound preexisting inequities in suicide risk,” the CDC researchers wrote.

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

The rising national suicide rate is being driven by increases among younger people and among people of color, according to a new report. 

Significant increases in suicide occurred among Native American, Black and Hispanic people, with a startling rise among young Black people. Meanwhile, the rate of suicide among older people declined between 2018 and 2021, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has reported.

In 2021, 48,183 people died by suicide in the United States, which equates to a suicide rate of 14.1 per 100,000 people. That level equals the 2018 suicide rate, which had seen a peak that was followed by declines associated with the pandemic.

Experts said rebounding suicide rates are common following times of crisis, such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Suicide declines have also occurred during times of war and natural disaster, when psychological resilience tends to increase and people work together to overcome shared adversity.

“That will wane, and then you will see rebounding in suicide rates. That is, in fact, what we feared would happen. And it has happened, at least in 2021,” Christine Moutier, MD, chief medical officer of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, told the New York Times.

The new CDC report found that the largest increase was among Black people aged 10-24 years, who experienced a 36.6% increase in suicide rate between 2018 and 2021. While Black people experience mental illness at the same rates as that of the general population, historically they have disproportionately limited access to mental health care, according to the American Psychiatric Association.

CDC report authors noted that some of the biggest increases in suicide rates occurred among groups most affected by the pandemic. 

From 2018 to 2021, the suicide rate for people aged 25-44 increased among Native Americans by 33.7% and among Black people by 22.9%. Suicide increased among multiracial people by 20.6% and among Hispanic or Latinx people by 19.4%. Among White people of all ages, the suicide rate declined or remained steady.

“As the nation continues to respond to the short- and long-term impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic, remaining vigilant in prevention efforts is critical, especially among disproportionately affected populations where longer-term impacts might compound preexisting inequities in suicide risk,” the CDC researchers wrote.

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

The rising national suicide rate is being driven by increases among younger people and among people of color, according to a new report. 

Significant increases in suicide occurred among Native American, Black and Hispanic people, with a startling rise among young Black people. Meanwhile, the rate of suicide among older people declined between 2018 and 2021, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has reported.

In 2021, 48,183 people died by suicide in the United States, which equates to a suicide rate of 14.1 per 100,000 people. That level equals the 2018 suicide rate, which had seen a peak that was followed by declines associated with the pandemic.

Experts said rebounding suicide rates are common following times of crisis, such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Suicide declines have also occurred during times of war and natural disaster, when psychological resilience tends to increase and people work together to overcome shared adversity.

“That will wane, and then you will see rebounding in suicide rates. That is, in fact, what we feared would happen. And it has happened, at least in 2021,” Christine Moutier, MD, chief medical officer of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, told the New York Times.

The new CDC report found that the largest increase was among Black people aged 10-24 years, who experienced a 36.6% increase in suicide rate between 2018 and 2021. While Black people experience mental illness at the same rates as that of the general population, historically they have disproportionately limited access to mental health care, according to the American Psychiatric Association.

CDC report authors noted that some of the biggest increases in suicide rates occurred among groups most affected by the pandemic. 

From 2018 to 2021, the suicide rate for people aged 25-44 increased among Native Americans by 33.7% and among Black people by 22.9%. Suicide increased among multiracial people by 20.6% and among Hispanic or Latinx people by 19.4%. Among White people of all ages, the suicide rate declined or remained steady.

“As the nation continues to respond to the short- and long-term impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic, remaining vigilant in prevention efforts is critical, especially among disproportionately affected populations where longer-term impacts might compound preexisting inequities in suicide risk,” the CDC researchers wrote.

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

When it comes to sexual health education in the United States, one thing is abundantly clear: It’s a messy patchwork of programs, topics, and criteria. Only 29 states and the District of Columbia currently mandate sexual health education. Sixteen states have an abstinence-only curriculum, whereas 13 do not require that instruction be age-appropriate, inclusive, medically accurate, or evidence-based/informed. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, according to a 2022 report issued by the Sex Ed for Social Change organization.

Parents should take an inclusive approach to sex communication and create a safe space for discussing sex and sexual orientation, said almost all (96.7%) of male young adults who participated in a qualitative study. This would help reinforce acceptance and parents could possibly serve as a proxy for children who’ve not yet disclosed their sexual orientation. Yet, few parents are equipped or prepared to have these meaningful conversations with gay, bisexual, queer, or gender-diverse children, despite the fact that they are especially vulnerable to poor sexual health outcomes, bullying, abuse, and mental health challenges, as well as high-risk sexual behaviors.

“Parents are sexual socialization agents,” Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, assistant professor of nursing at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, told this news organization. “It’s through the information that they convey, the way that they normalize rituals and expectations, that they inform young people of all of societal expectations or roles they’ll be fulfilling in the future.”

Dr. Flores is lead author of a study published in the Journal of Adolescent Health. He and his colleagues collected perspectives on comprehensive, inclusive, and age-appropriate parent-child sex communications from 30 GBQ adolescent males aged 15-20 years who were already “out” to their parents. Participants were asked to sort through 28 preprinted note cards containing broad sexual health topics (for instance, human anatomy, dating, sexually transmitted infections) as well as topics theoretically specific to GBQ individuals (for example, anal sex), and were asked to add additional topics that they felt were missing. They were then directed to recommend topics along with ideal timing (that is, elementary, middle, or high school) for these conversations.

Study findings also underscored the importance of initiating comprehensive sexuality talks as early as elementary school age – namely to start preparing GBQ children for inevitable adversities that they were likely to encounter later in life, as well as to form building blocks for more mature, in-depth discussions during high school.

Importantly, these recommendations generally align with those aimed at heterosexual youth.

“When we refer to topics for elementary school, they are general parameters of what kids might be interested in or want to hear more about; it’s not planting a seed,” explained Dr. Flores.

Eva Goldfarb, PhD, LHD, MA, professor of public health at Montclair (N.J.) State University, agreed. “We always talk about (in sex education) to follow young people’s lead. If your child is asking you a question, they deserve a response,” said Dr. Goldfarb, who wasn’t involved in the study. “It doesn’t mean you have to give a detailed- level explanation but if they’re asking about it, it means that they are thinking about it. But it’s really important for all young people to know all of this information.”

Along those lines, participants deemed that fundamental issues about bodies (for example, human anatomy, reproduction), different sexual orientations, and an introduction to foundational issues (like privacy, peer or social pressure, sexual abuse) would help elementary-aged children to normalize discussions about sex, anatomy, and sexual orientation.

Middle school conversations were ideally more in-depth to reflect the time when young people are beginning to explore and accept their social and sexual identities. Topics of discussion might include types of sexual intercourse (anal, oral, and vaginal), health promotion strategies (abstinence, condoms, and contraception), possible adverse outcomes of condomless intercourse (HIV, STIs), considerations about engaging in sexual intercourse (including readiness, negotiating boundaries, virginity), and interpersonal safety (for instance, sexting, alcohol/drugs/chemsex, sexual coercion, and partner abuse/violence).

Finally, high school age recommendations focused on socio-relational topics (such as hook-up culture, technology/online dating, and multiple or concurrent sex partners), which are most relevant during a time when adolescents are most prone to experimentation and risk-taking.

Acknowledging that the study approach was novel, Dr. Flores noted that hearing about these topics from the youth perspective allowed parents to prepare. “Communication is better when it’s anticipated vs. reactive,” he said.

Last but not least, clinicians also have an important role in supporting these conversations.

“We’ve always looked at sex communication as a dyadic process, as a parent bestowing wisdom on a child who doesn’t have that knowledge yet. But it can be a triadic model,” said Dr. Flores. “Providers can encourage parents to ask if a child is dating or is familiar with ways to protect themselves or provide consent, and act as a resource exclusively to troubleshoot emergent issues.”

This study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The study also received supplementary funding from the Surgeon General C. Everett Koop HIV/AIDS Research Award. Dr. Flores and Dr. Goldfarb report no relevant financial relationships.
 

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

When it comes to sexual health education in the United States, one thing is abundantly clear: It’s a messy patchwork of programs, topics, and criteria. Only 29 states and the District of Columbia currently mandate sexual health education. Sixteen states have an abstinence-only curriculum, whereas 13 do not require that instruction be age-appropriate, inclusive, medically accurate, or evidence-based/informed. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, according to a 2022 report issued by the Sex Ed for Social Change organization.

Parents should take an inclusive approach to sex communication and create a safe space for discussing sex and sexual orientation, said almost all (96.7%) of male young adults who participated in a qualitative study. This would help reinforce acceptance and parents could possibly serve as a proxy for children who’ve not yet disclosed their sexual orientation. Yet, few parents are equipped or prepared to have these meaningful conversations with gay, bisexual, queer, or gender-diverse children, despite the fact that they are especially vulnerable to poor sexual health outcomes, bullying, abuse, and mental health challenges, as well as high-risk sexual behaviors.

“Parents are sexual socialization agents,” Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, assistant professor of nursing at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, told this news organization. “It’s through the information that they convey, the way that they normalize rituals and expectations, that they inform young people of all of societal expectations or roles they’ll be fulfilling in the future.”

Dr. Flores is lead author of a study published in the Journal of Adolescent Health. He and his colleagues collected perspectives on comprehensive, inclusive, and age-appropriate parent-child sex communications from 30 GBQ adolescent males aged 15-20 years who were already “out” to their parents. Participants were asked to sort through 28 preprinted note cards containing broad sexual health topics (for instance, human anatomy, dating, sexually transmitted infections) as well as topics theoretically specific to GBQ individuals (for example, anal sex), and were asked to add additional topics that they felt were missing. They were then directed to recommend topics along with ideal timing (that is, elementary, middle, or high school) for these conversations.

Study findings also underscored the importance of initiating comprehensive sexuality talks as early as elementary school age – namely to start preparing GBQ children for inevitable adversities that they were likely to encounter later in life, as well as to form building blocks for more mature, in-depth discussions during high school.

Importantly, these recommendations generally align with those aimed at heterosexual youth.

“When we refer to topics for elementary school, they are general parameters of what kids might be interested in or want to hear more about; it’s not planting a seed,” explained Dr. Flores.

Eva Goldfarb, PhD, LHD, MA, professor of public health at Montclair (N.J.) State University, agreed. “We always talk about (in sex education) to follow young people’s lead. If your child is asking you a question, they deserve a response,” said Dr. Goldfarb, who wasn’t involved in the study. “It doesn’t mean you have to give a detailed- level explanation but if they’re asking about it, it means that they are thinking about it. But it’s really important for all young people to know all of this information.”

Along those lines, participants deemed that fundamental issues about bodies (for example, human anatomy, reproduction), different sexual orientations, and an introduction to foundational issues (like privacy, peer or social pressure, sexual abuse) would help elementary-aged children to normalize discussions about sex, anatomy, and sexual orientation.

Middle school conversations were ideally more in-depth to reflect the time when young people are beginning to explore and accept their social and sexual identities. Topics of discussion might include types of sexual intercourse (anal, oral, and vaginal), health promotion strategies (abstinence, condoms, and contraception), possible adverse outcomes of condomless intercourse (HIV, STIs), considerations about engaging in sexual intercourse (including readiness, negotiating boundaries, virginity), and interpersonal safety (for instance, sexting, alcohol/drugs/chemsex, sexual coercion, and partner abuse/violence).

Finally, high school age recommendations focused on socio-relational topics (such as hook-up culture, technology/online dating, and multiple or concurrent sex partners), which are most relevant during a time when adolescents are most prone to experimentation and risk-taking.

Acknowledging that the study approach was novel, Dr. Flores noted that hearing about these topics from the youth perspective allowed parents to prepare. “Communication is better when it’s anticipated vs. reactive,” he said.

Last but not least, clinicians also have an important role in supporting these conversations.

“We’ve always looked at sex communication as a dyadic process, as a parent bestowing wisdom on a child who doesn’t have that knowledge yet. But it can be a triadic model,” said Dr. Flores. “Providers can encourage parents to ask if a child is dating or is familiar with ways to protect themselves or provide consent, and act as a resource exclusively to troubleshoot emergent issues.”

This study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The study also received supplementary funding from the Surgeon General C. Everett Koop HIV/AIDS Research Award. Dr. Flores and Dr. Goldfarb report no relevant financial relationships.
 

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

When it comes to sexual health education in the United States, one thing is abundantly clear: It’s a messy patchwork of programs, topics, and criteria. Only 29 states and the District of Columbia currently mandate sexual health education. Sixteen states have an abstinence-only curriculum, whereas 13 do not require that instruction be age-appropriate, inclusive, medically accurate, or evidence-based/informed. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, according to a 2022 report issued by the Sex Ed for Social Change organization.

Parents should take an inclusive approach to sex communication and create a safe space for discussing sex and sexual orientation, said almost all (96.7%) of male young adults who participated in a qualitative study. This would help reinforce acceptance and parents could possibly serve as a proxy for children who’ve not yet disclosed their sexual orientation. Yet, few parents are equipped or prepared to have these meaningful conversations with gay, bisexual, queer, or gender-diverse children, despite the fact that they are especially vulnerable to poor sexual health outcomes, bullying, abuse, and mental health challenges, as well as high-risk sexual behaviors.

“Parents are sexual socialization agents,” Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, assistant professor of nursing at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, told this news organization. “It’s through the information that they convey, the way that they normalize rituals and expectations, that they inform young people of all of societal expectations or roles they’ll be fulfilling in the future.”

Dr. Flores is lead author of a study published in the Journal of Adolescent Health. He and his colleagues collected perspectives on comprehensive, inclusive, and age-appropriate parent-child sex communications from 30 GBQ adolescent males aged 15-20 years who were already “out” to their parents. Participants were asked to sort through 28 preprinted note cards containing broad sexual health topics (for instance, human anatomy, dating, sexually transmitted infections) as well as topics theoretically specific to GBQ individuals (for example, anal sex), and were asked to add additional topics that they felt were missing. They were then directed to recommend topics along with ideal timing (that is, elementary, middle, or high school) for these conversations.

Study findings also underscored the importance of initiating comprehensive sexuality talks as early as elementary school age – namely to start preparing GBQ children for inevitable adversities that they were likely to encounter later in life, as well as to form building blocks for more mature, in-depth discussions during high school.

Importantly, these recommendations generally align with those aimed at heterosexual youth.

“When we refer to topics for elementary school, they are general parameters of what kids might be interested in or want to hear more about; it’s not planting a seed,” explained Dr. Flores.

Eva Goldfarb, PhD, LHD, MA, professor of public health at Montclair (N.J.) State University, agreed. “We always talk about (in sex education) to follow young people’s lead. If your child is asking you a question, they deserve a response,” said Dr. Goldfarb, who wasn’t involved in the study. “It doesn’t mean you have to give a detailed- level explanation but if they’re asking about it, it means that they are thinking about it. But it’s really important for all young people to know all of this information.”

Along those lines, participants deemed that fundamental issues about bodies (for example, human anatomy, reproduction), different sexual orientations, and an introduction to foundational issues (like privacy, peer or social pressure, sexual abuse) would help elementary-aged children to normalize discussions about sex, anatomy, and sexual orientation.

Middle school conversations were ideally more in-depth to reflect the time when young people are beginning to explore and accept their social and sexual identities. Topics of discussion might include types of sexual intercourse (anal, oral, and vaginal), health promotion strategies (abstinence, condoms, and contraception), possible adverse outcomes of condomless intercourse (HIV, STIs), considerations about engaging in sexual intercourse (including readiness, negotiating boundaries, virginity), and interpersonal safety (for instance, sexting, alcohol/drugs/chemsex, sexual coercion, and partner abuse/violence).

Finally, high school age recommendations focused on socio-relational topics (such as hook-up culture, technology/online dating, and multiple or concurrent sex partners), which are most relevant during a time when adolescents are most prone to experimentation and risk-taking.

Acknowledging that the study approach was novel, Dr. Flores noted that hearing about these topics from the youth perspective allowed parents to prepare. “Communication is better when it’s anticipated vs. reactive,” he said.

Last but not least, clinicians also have an important role in supporting these conversations.

“We’ve always looked at sex communication as a dyadic process, as a parent bestowing wisdom on a child who doesn’t have that knowledge yet. But it can be a triadic model,” said Dr. Flores. “Providers can encourage parents to ask if a child is dating or is familiar with ways to protect themselves or provide consent, and act as a resource exclusively to troubleshoot emergent issues.”

This study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The study also received supplementary funding from the Surgeon General C. Everett Koop HIV/AIDS Research Award. Dr. Flores and Dr. Goldfarb report no relevant financial relationships.
 

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

Both race and place of residence affect how soon a woman in North Carolina receives treatment for breast cancer, suggesting the need to target high-risk geographic regions and patient groups to ensure timely care, new research suggests.

Among nearly 33,000 women from North Carolina with stage I-III breast cancer, Black patients were nearly twice as likely has non-Black patients to experience treatment delays of more than 60 days, researchers found.

“Our findings suggest that treatment delays are alarmingly common in patients at high risk for breast cancer death, including young Black women and patients with stage III disease,” the authors note in their article, which was published online in Cancer.

Research shows that breast cancer treatment delays of 30-60 days can lower survival, and Black patients face a “disproportionate risk of treatment delays across the breast cancer care delivery spectrum,” the authors explain.

However, studies exploring whether or how racial disparities in treatment delays relate to geography are more limited.

In the current analysis, researchers amassed a retrospective cohort of all patients with stage I-III breast cancer between 2004 and 2015 in the North Carolina Central Cancer Registry and explored the risk of treatment delay by race and geographic subregion.

The cohort included 32,626 women, 6,190 (19.0%) of whom were Black. Counties were divided into the nine Area Health Education Center regions for North Carolina.

Compared with non‐Black patients, Black patients were more likely to have stage III disease (15.2% vs. 9.3%), hormone receptor–negative tumors (29.3% vs. 15.6%), Medicaid insurance (46.7% vs. 14.9%), and to live within 5 miles of their treatment site (30.6% vs. 25.2%).

Overall, Black patients were almost two times more likely to experience a treatment delay of more than 60 days (15% vs. 8%).

On average, about one in seven Black women experienced a lengthy delay, but the risk varied depending on geographic location. Patients living in certain regions of the state were more likely to experience delays; those in the highest-risk region were about twice as likely to experience a delay as those in the lowest-risk region (relative risk, 2.1 among Black patients; and RR, 1.9 among non-Black patients).

The magnitude of the racial gap in treatment delay varied by region – from 0% to 9.4%. But overall, of patients who experienced treatment delays, a significantly greater proportion were Black patients in every region except region 2, where only 2.7% (93 of 3,362) of patients were Black.

Notably, two regions with the greatest disparities in treatment delay, as well as the highest absolute risk of treatment delay for Black patients, surround large cities.

“These delays weren’t explained by the patients’ distance from cancer treatment facilities, their specific stage of cancer or type of treatment, or what insurance they had,” lead author Katherine Reeder-Hayes, MD, with the University of North Carolina Lineberger Comprehensive Cancer Center, Chapel Hill, said in a news release.

Instead, Dr. Reeder-Hayes said, the findings suggest that the structure of local health care systems, rather than patient characteristics, may better explain why some patients experience treatment delays.

In other words, “if cancer care teams in certain areas say, ‘Oh, it’s particularly hard to treat breast cancer in our area because people are poor or have really advanced stages of cancer when they come in,’ our research does not bear out that explanation,” Dr. Reeder-Hayes said in email to this news organization.

This study “highlights the persistent disparities in treatment delays Black women encounter, which often lead to worse outcomes,” said Kathie-Ann Joseph, MD, MPH, who was not involved in the research.

“Interestingly, the authors could not attribute these delays in treatment to patient-level factors,” said Dr. Joseph, a breast cancer surgeon at NYU Langone Perlmutter Cancer Center, New York. But the authors “did find substantial geographic variation, which suggests the need to address structural barriers contributing to treatment delays in Black women.”

Sara P. Cate, MD, who was not involved with the research, also noted that the study highlights a known issue – “that racial minorities have longer delays in cancer treatment.” And notably, she said, the findings reveal that this disparity persists in areas where access to care is better and more robust.

“The nuances of the delays to care are multifactorial,” said Dr. Cate, a breast cancer surgeon and director of the Breast Surgery Quality Program at Mount Sinai in New York. “We need to do better with this population, and it is a multilevel solution of financial assistance, social work, and patient navigation.”

The study was supported in part by grants from the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the NC State Employees’ Credit Union. Dr. Reeder-Hayes, Dr. Cate, and Dr. Joseph have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Both race and place of residence affect how soon a woman in North Carolina receives treatment for breast cancer, suggesting the need to target high-risk geographic regions and patient groups to ensure timely care, new research suggests.

Among nearly 33,000 women from North Carolina with stage I-III breast cancer, Black patients were nearly twice as likely has non-Black patients to experience treatment delays of more than 60 days, researchers found.

“Our findings suggest that treatment delays are alarmingly common in patients at high risk for breast cancer death, including young Black women and patients with stage III disease,” the authors note in their article, which was published online in Cancer.

Research shows that breast cancer treatment delays of 30-60 days can lower survival, and Black patients face a “disproportionate risk of treatment delays across the breast cancer care delivery spectrum,” the authors explain.

However, studies exploring whether or how racial disparities in treatment delays relate to geography are more limited.

In the current analysis, researchers amassed a retrospective cohort of all patients with stage I-III breast cancer between 2004 and 2015 in the North Carolina Central Cancer Registry and explored the risk of treatment delay by race and geographic subregion.

The cohort included 32,626 women, 6,190 (19.0%) of whom were Black. Counties were divided into the nine Area Health Education Center regions for North Carolina.

Compared with non‐Black patients, Black patients were more likely to have stage III disease (15.2% vs. 9.3%), hormone receptor–negative tumors (29.3% vs. 15.6%), Medicaid insurance (46.7% vs. 14.9%), and to live within 5 miles of their treatment site (30.6% vs. 25.2%).

Overall, Black patients were almost two times more likely to experience a treatment delay of more than 60 days (15% vs. 8%).

On average, about one in seven Black women experienced a lengthy delay, but the risk varied depending on geographic location. Patients living in certain regions of the state were more likely to experience delays; those in the highest-risk region were about twice as likely to experience a delay as those in the lowest-risk region (relative risk, 2.1 among Black patients; and RR, 1.9 among non-Black patients).

The magnitude of the racial gap in treatment delay varied by region – from 0% to 9.4%. But overall, of patients who experienced treatment delays, a significantly greater proportion were Black patients in every region except region 2, where only 2.7% (93 of 3,362) of patients were Black.

Notably, two regions with the greatest disparities in treatment delay, as well as the highest absolute risk of treatment delay for Black patients, surround large cities.

“These delays weren’t explained by the patients’ distance from cancer treatment facilities, their specific stage of cancer or type of treatment, or what insurance they had,” lead author Katherine Reeder-Hayes, MD, with the University of North Carolina Lineberger Comprehensive Cancer Center, Chapel Hill, said in a news release.

Instead, Dr. Reeder-Hayes said, the findings suggest that the structure of local health care systems, rather than patient characteristics, may better explain why some patients experience treatment delays.

In other words, “if cancer care teams in certain areas say, ‘Oh, it’s particularly hard to treat breast cancer in our area because people are poor or have really advanced stages of cancer when they come in,’ our research does not bear out that explanation,” Dr. Reeder-Hayes said in email to this news organization.

This study “highlights the persistent disparities in treatment delays Black women encounter, which often lead to worse outcomes,” said Kathie-Ann Joseph, MD, MPH, who was not involved in the research.

“Interestingly, the authors could not attribute these delays in treatment to patient-level factors,” said Dr. Joseph, a breast cancer surgeon at NYU Langone Perlmutter Cancer Center, New York. But the authors “did find substantial geographic variation, which suggests the need to address structural barriers contributing to treatment delays in Black women.”

Sara P. Cate, MD, who was not involved with the research, also noted that the study highlights a known issue – “that racial minorities have longer delays in cancer treatment.” And notably, she said, the findings reveal that this disparity persists in areas where access to care is better and more robust.

“The nuances of the delays to care are multifactorial,” said Dr. Cate, a breast cancer surgeon and director of the Breast Surgery Quality Program at Mount Sinai in New York. “We need to do better with this population, and it is a multilevel solution of financial assistance, social work, and patient navigation.”

The study was supported in part by grants from the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the NC State Employees’ Credit Union. Dr. Reeder-Hayes, Dr. Cate, and Dr. Joseph have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Both race and place of residence affect how soon a woman in North Carolina receives treatment for breast cancer, suggesting the need to target high-risk geographic regions and patient groups to ensure timely care, new research suggests.

Among nearly 33,000 women from North Carolina with stage I-III breast cancer, Black patients were nearly twice as likely has non-Black patients to experience treatment delays of more than 60 days, researchers found.

“Our findings suggest that treatment delays are alarmingly common in patients at high risk for breast cancer death, including young Black women and patients with stage III disease,” the authors note in their article, which was published online in Cancer.

Research shows that breast cancer treatment delays of 30-60 days can lower survival, and Black patients face a “disproportionate risk of treatment delays across the breast cancer care delivery spectrum,” the authors explain.

However, studies exploring whether or how racial disparities in treatment delays relate to geography are more limited.

In the current analysis, researchers amassed a retrospective cohort of all patients with stage I-III breast cancer between 2004 and 2015 in the North Carolina Central Cancer Registry and explored the risk of treatment delay by race and geographic subregion.

The cohort included 32,626 women, 6,190 (19.0%) of whom were Black. Counties were divided into the nine Area Health Education Center regions for North Carolina.

Compared with non‐Black patients, Black patients were more likely to have stage III disease (15.2% vs. 9.3%), hormone receptor–negative tumors (29.3% vs. 15.6%), Medicaid insurance (46.7% vs. 14.9%), and to live within 5 miles of their treatment site (30.6% vs. 25.2%).

Overall, Black patients were almost two times more likely to experience a treatment delay of more than 60 days (15% vs. 8%).

On average, about one in seven Black women experienced a lengthy delay, but the risk varied depending on geographic location. Patients living in certain regions of the state were more likely to experience delays; those in the highest-risk region were about twice as likely to experience a delay as those in the lowest-risk region (relative risk, 2.1 among Black patients; and RR, 1.9 among non-Black patients).

The magnitude of the racial gap in treatment delay varied by region – from 0% to 9.4%. But overall, of patients who experienced treatment delays, a significantly greater proportion were Black patients in every region except region 2, where only 2.7% (93 of 3,362) of patients were Black.

Notably, two regions with the greatest disparities in treatment delay, as well as the highest absolute risk of treatment delay for Black patients, surround large cities.

“These delays weren’t explained by the patients’ distance from cancer treatment facilities, their specific stage of cancer or type of treatment, or what insurance they had,” lead author Katherine Reeder-Hayes, MD, with the University of North Carolina Lineberger Comprehensive Cancer Center, Chapel Hill, said in a news release.

Instead, Dr. Reeder-Hayes said, the findings suggest that the structure of local health care systems, rather than patient characteristics, may better explain why some patients experience treatment delays.

In other words, “if cancer care teams in certain areas say, ‘Oh, it’s particularly hard to treat breast cancer in our area because people are poor or have really advanced stages of cancer when they come in,’ our research does not bear out that explanation,” Dr. Reeder-Hayes said in email to this news organization.

This study “highlights the persistent disparities in treatment delays Black women encounter, which often lead to worse outcomes,” said Kathie-Ann Joseph, MD, MPH, who was not involved in the research.

“Interestingly, the authors could not attribute these delays in treatment to patient-level factors,” said Dr. Joseph, a breast cancer surgeon at NYU Langone Perlmutter Cancer Center, New York. But the authors “did find substantial geographic variation, which suggests the need to address structural barriers contributing to treatment delays in Black women.”

Sara P. Cate, MD, who was not involved with the research, also noted that the study highlights a known issue – “that racial minorities have longer delays in cancer treatment.” And notably, she said, the findings reveal that this disparity persists in areas where access to care is better and more robust.

“The nuances of the delays to care are multifactorial,” said Dr. Cate, a breast cancer surgeon and director of the Breast Surgery Quality Program at Mount Sinai in New York. “We need to do better with this population, and it is a multilevel solution of financial assistance, social work, and patient navigation.”

The study was supported in part by grants from the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the NC State Employees’ Credit Union. Dr. Reeder-Hayes, Dr. Cate, and Dr. Joseph have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Opioids are widely regarded as a linchpin in the treatment of moderate to severe cancer-related pain and end-of-life symptoms; however, there are persistent racial and ethnic inequities in opioid access among older cancer patients, with Black patients being disproportionately affected, a new study suggests.

Black patients were more likely to undergo urine drug screening (UDS) despite being less likely to receive any opioids for pain management and receiving lower daily doses of opioids in comparison with White patients, the study found.

The inequities were particularly stark for Black men. “We found that Black men were far less likely to be prescribed reasonable doses than White men were,” said the study’s senior author, Alexi Wright, MD, MPH, a gynecologic oncologist and a researcher in the division of population sciences at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston. “And Black men were less likely to receive long-acting opioids, which are essential for many patients dying of cancer. Our findings are startling because everyone should agree that cancer patients should have equal access to pain relief at the end of life.”

The study was published on in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

The researchers gathered data on 318,549 Medicare beneficiaries older than 65 years with poor-prognosis cancers who died between 2007 and 2019. During this time frame, for all groups, access to opioids declined and urine drug testing expanded, owing to the overall opioid epidemic in the United States. Overall, the proportion of patients near end of life (EOL) who received any opioid or long-acting opioids decreased from 42.2% to 32.7% and from 17.9% to 9.4%, respectively.

The investigators used National Drug Codes to identify all Medicare Part D claims for outpatient opioid prescriptions, excluding addiction treatments, cough suppressants, and parenteral opioids. They focused on prescriptions that were filled at least 30 days before death or hospice enrollment.

Among the study participants, the majority (85.5%) of patients were White, 29,555 patients (9.3%) were Black, and 16,636 patients (5.2%) were Hispanic.

Black and Hispanic patients were statistically less likely than White patients to receive opioid prescriptions near EOL (Black, –4.3 percentage points; Hispanic, –3.6 percentage points). They were also less likely to receive long-acting opioid prescriptions (Black, –3.1 percentage points; Hispanic, –2.2 percentage points).

“It’s not just that patients of color are less likely to get opioids, but when they do get them, they get lower doses, and they also are less likely to get long-acting opioids, which a lot of people view as sort of more potential for addiction, which isn’t necessarily true but kind of viewed with heightened concern or suspicion,” the study’s lead author, Andrea Enzinger, MD, a gastrointestinal oncologist and a researcher in Dana-Farber’s division of population sciences, said in an interview.

Dr. Enzinger added that she believes systemic racism and preconceived biases toward minorities and drug addiction may be contributing to these trends.

When Black patients did receive at least one opioid prescription, they received daily doses that were 10.5 morphine milligram equivalents (MMEs) lower than doses given to White patients. Compared with the total opioid dose filled per White decedent near EOL, the total dose filled per Black decedent was 210 MMEs lower.

“We all need to be worried about the potential for misuse or addiction, but this is the one setting that is very low on my priority list when somebody is dying. I mean, we’re looking at the last month of life, so nobody has the potential to become addicted,” Dr. Enzinger commented.

The team also evaluated rates or urine drug screening (UDS), but as these rates were relatively low, they expanded the time frame to 180 days before death or hospice. They found that disparities in UDS disproportionately affected Black men.

From 2007 to 2019, the proportion of patients who underwent UDS increased from 0.6% to 6.7% in the 180 days before death or hospice; however, Black decedents were tested more often than White or Hispanic decedents.

Black decedents were 0.5 percentage points more likely than White decedents to undergo UDS near EOL.

“The disparities in urine drug screening are modest but important, because they hint at underlying systematic racism in recommending patients for screening,” Dr. Wright said. “Screening needs to either be applied uniformly or not at all for patients in this situation.”

The researchers acknowledged that their findings likely do not represent the full spectrum of prescribing disparities and believe that the work should be expanded among younger populations. Nevertheless, the investigators believe the work highlights the persistent racial and ethnic disparities in opioid access.

The study was supported by a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Policy.

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

Opioids are widely regarded as a linchpin in the treatment of moderate to severe cancer-related pain and end-of-life symptoms; however, there are persistent racial and ethnic inequities in opioid access among older cancer patients, with Black patients being disproportionately affected, a new study suggests.

Black patients were more likely to undergo urine drug screening (UDS) despite being less likely to receive any opioids for pain management and receiving lower daily doses of opioids in comparison with White patients, the study found.

The inequities were particularly stark for Black men. “We found that Black men were far less likely to be prescribed reasonable doses than White men were,” said the study’s senior author, Alexi Wright, MD, MPH, a gynecologic oncologist and a researcher in the division of population sciences at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston. “And Black men were less likely to receive long-acting opioids, which are essential for many patients dying of cancer. Our findings are startling because everyone should agree that cancer patients should have equal access to pain relief at the end of life.”

The study was published on in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

The researchers gathered data on 318,549 Medicare beneficiaries older than 65 years with poor-prognosis cancers who died between 2007 and 2019. During this time frame, for all groups, access to opioids declined and urine drug testing expanded, owing to the overall opioid epidemic in the United States. Overall, the proportion of patients near end of life (EOL) who received any opioid or long-acting opioids decreased from 42.2% to 32.7% and from 17.9% to 9.4%, respectively.

The investigators used National Drug Codes to identify all Medicare Part D claims for outpatient opioid prescriptions, excluding addiction treatments, cough suppressants, and parenteral opioids. They focused on prescriptions that were filled at least 30 days before death or hospice enrollment.

Among the study participants, the majority (85.5%) of patients were White, 29,555 patients (9.3%) were Black, and 16,636 patients (5.2%) were Hispanic.

Black and Hispanic patients were statistically less likely than White patients to receive opioid prescriptions near EOL (Black, –4.3 percentage points; Hispanic, –3.6 percentage points). They were also less likely to receive long-acting opioid prescriptions (Black, –3.1 percentage points; Hispanic, –2.2 percentage points).

“It’s not just that patients of color are less likely to get opioids, but when they do get them, they get lower doses, and they also are less likely to get long-acting opioids, which a lot of people view as sort of more potential for addiction, which isn’t necessarily true but kind of viewed with heightened concern or suspicion,” the study’s lead author, Andrea Enzinger, MD, a gastrointestinal oncologist and a researcher in Dana-Farber’s division of population sciences, said in an interview.

Dr. Enzinger added that she believes systemic racism and preconceived biases toward minorities and drug addiction may be contributing to these trends.

When Black patients did receive at least one opioid prescription, they received daily doses that were 10.5 morphine milligram equivalents (MMEs) lower than doses given to White patients. Compared with the total opioid dose filled per White decedent near EOL, the total dose filled per Black decedent was 210 MMEs lower.

“We all need to be worried about the potential for misuse or addiction, but this is the one setting that is very low on my priority list when somebody is dying. I mean, we’re looking at the last month of life, so nobody has the potential to become addicted,” Dr. Enzinger commented.

The team also evaluated rates or urine drug screening (UDS), but as these rates were relatively low, they expanded the time frame to 180 days before death or hospice. They found that disparities in UDS disproportionately affected Black men.

From 2007 to 2019, the proportion of patients who underwent UDS increased from 0.6% to 6.7% in the 180 days before death or hospice; however, Black decedents were tested more often than White or Hispanic decedents.

Black decedents were 0.5 percentage points more likely than White decedents to undergo UDS near EOL.

“The disparities in urine drug screening are modest but important, because they hint at underlying systematic racism in recommending patients for screening,” Dr. Wright said. “Screening needs to either be applied uniformly or not at all for patients in this situation.”

The researchers acknowledged that their findings likely do not represent the full spectrum of prescribing disparities and believe that the work should be expanded among younger populations. Nevertheless, the investigators believe the work highlights the persistent racial and ethnic disparities in opioid access.

The study was supported by a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Policy.

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

Opioids are widely regarded as a linchpin in the treatment of moderate to severe cancer-related pain and end-of-life symptoms; however, there are persistent racial and ethnic inequities in opioid access among older cancer patients, with Black patients being disproportionately affected, a new study suggests.

Black patients were more likely to undergo urine drug screening (UDS) despite being less likely to receive any opioids for pain management and receiving lower daily doses of opioids in comparison with White patients, the study found.

The inequities were particularly stark for Black men. “We found that Black men were far less likely to be prescribed reasonable doses than White men were,” said the study’s senior author, Alexi Wright, MD, MPH, a gynecologic oncologist and a researcher in the division of population sciences at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston. “And Black men were less likely to receive long-acting opioids, which are essential for many patients dying of cancer. Our findings are startling because everyone should agree that cancer patients should have equal access to pain relief at the end of life.”

The study was published on in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

The researchers gathered data on 318,549 Medicare beneficiaries older than 65 years with poor-prognosis cancers who died between 2007 and 2019. During this time frame, for all groups, access to opioids declined and urine drug testing expanded, owing to the overall opioid epidemic in the United States. Overall, the proportion of patients near end of life (EOL) who received any opioid or long-acting opioids decreased from 42.2% to 32.7% and from 17.9% to 9.4%, respectively.

The investigators used National Drug Codes to identify all Medicare Part D claims for outpatient opioid prescriptions, excluding addiction treatments, cough suppressants, and parenteral opioids. They focused on prescriptions that were filled at least 30 days before death or hospice enrollment.

Among the study participants, the majority (85.5%) of patients were White, 29,555 patients (9.3%) were Black, and 16,636 patients (5.2%) were Hispanic.

Black and Hispanic patients were statistically less likely than White patients to receive opioid prescriptions near EOL (Black, –4.3 percentage points; Hispanic, –3.6 percentage points). They were also less likely to receive long-acting opioid prescriptions (Black, –3.1 percentage points; Hispanic, –2.2 percentage points).

“It’s not just that patients of color are less likely to get opioids, but when they do get them, they get lower doses, and they also are less likely to get long-acting opioids, which a lot of people view as sort of more potential for addiction, which isn’t necessarily true but kind of viewed with heightened concern or suspicion,” the study’s lead author, Andrea Enzinger, MD, a gastrointestinal oncologist and a researcher in Dana-Farber’s division of population sciences, said in an interview.

Dr. Enzinger added that she believes systemic racism and preconceived biases toward minorities and drug addiction may be contributing to these trends.

When Black patients did receive at least one opioid prescription, they received daily doses that were 10.5 morphine milligram equivalents (MMEs) lower than doses given to White patients. Compared with the total opioid dose filled per White decedent near EOL, the total dose filled per Black decedent was 210 MMEs lower.

“We all need to be worried about the potential for misuse or addiction, but this is the one setting that is very low on my priority list when somebody is dying. I mean, we’re looking at the last month of life, so nobody has the potential to become addicted,” Dr. Enzinger commented.

The team also evaluated rates or urine drug screening (UDS), but as these rates were relatively low, they expanded the time frame to 180 days before death or hospice. They found that disparities in UDS disproportionately affected Black men.

From 2007 to 2019, the proportion of patients who underwent UDS increased from 0.6% to 6.7% in the 180 days before death or hospice; however, Black decedents were tested more often than White or Hispanic decedents.

Black decedents were 0.5 percentage points more likely than White decedents to undergo UDS near EOL.

“The disparities in urine drug screening are modest but important, because they hint at underlying systematic racism in recommending patients for screening,” Dr. Wright said. “Screening needs to either be applied uniformly or not at all for patients in this situation.”

The researchers acknowledged that their findings likely do not represent the full spectrum of prescribing disparities and believe that the work should be expanded among younger populations. Nevertheless, the investigators believe the work highlights the persistent racial and ethnic disparities in opioid access.

The study was supported by a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Policy.

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

THE COMPARISON

A Vitiligo in a young Hispanic female, which spared the area under a ring. The patient has spotty return of pigment on the hand after narrowband UVB treatment.

B Vitiligo on the hand in a young Hispanic male.

Photographs courtesy of Richard P. Usatine, MD.

Vitiligo is a chronic autoimmune disorder characterized by areas of depigmented white patches on the skin due to the loss of melanocytes in the epidermis. Various theories on the pathogenesis of vitiligo exist; however, autoimmune destruction of melanocytes remains the leading hypothesis, followed by intrinsic defects in melanocytes.¹ Vitiligo is associated with various autoimmune diseases but is most frequently reported in conjunction with thyroid disorders.²

Epidemiology

Vitiligo affects approximately 1% of the US population and up to 8% worldwide.² There is no difference in prevalence between races or genders. Females typically acquire the disease earlier than males. Onset may occur at any age, although about half of patients will have vitiligo by 20 years of age.¹

Key clinical features in people with darker skin tones

Bright white patches are characteristic of vitiligo. The patches typically are asymptomatic and often affect the hands (Figures A and B), perioral skin, feet, and scalp, as well as areas more vulnerable to friction and trauma, such as the elbows and knees.² Trichrome lesions—consisting of varying zones of white (depigmented), lighter brown (hypopigmented), and normal skin—are most commonly seen in individuals with darker skin. Trichrome vitiligo is considered an actively progressing variant of vitiligo.²

An important distinction when diagnosing vitiligo is evaluating for segmental vs nonsegmental vitiligo. Although nonsegmental vitiligo—the more common subtype—is characterized by symmetric distribution and a less predictable course, segmental vitiligo manifests in a localized and unilateral distribution, often avoiding extension past the midline. Segmental vitiligo typically manifests at a younger age and follows a more rapidly stabilizing course.³

Worth noting

Given that stark contrasts between pigmented and depigmented lesions are more prominent in darker skin tones, vitiligo can be more socially stigmatizing and psychologically devastating in these patients.^4,5

Treatment of vitiligo includes narrowband UVB (NB-UVB) light phototherapy, excimer laser, topical corticosteroids, topical calcineurin inhibitors such as tacrolimus and pimecrolimus, and surgical melanocyte transplantation.¹ In July 2022, ruxolitinib cream 1.5% was approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for nonsegmental vitiligo in patients 12 years and older.^6,7 It is the only FDA-approved therapy for vitiligo. It is thought to work by inhibiting the Janus kinase– signal transducers and activators of the transcription pathway.⁶ However, topical ruxolitinib is expensive, costing more than $2000 for 60 g.⁸

Health disparity highlight

A 2021 study reviewing the coverage policies of 15 commercial health care insurance companies, 50 BlueCross BlueShield plans, Medicaid, Medicare, and Veterans Affairs plans found inequities in the insurance coverage patterns for therapies used to treat vitiligo. There were 2 commonly cited reasons for denying coverage for therapies: vitiligo was considered cosmetic and therapies were not FDA approved.⁷ In comparison, NB-UVB light phototherapy for psoriasis is not considered cosmetic and has a much higher insurance coverage rate.^9,10 The out-of-pocket cost for a patient to purchase their own NB-UVB light phototherapy is more than $5000.11 Not all patients of color are economically disadvantaged, but in the United States, Black and Hispanic populations experience disproportionately higher rates of poverty (19% and 17%, respectively) compared to their White counterparts (8%).¹²

Final thoughts

US Food and Drug Administration approval of new drugs or new treatment indications comes after years of research discovery and large-scale trials. This pursuit of new discovery, however, is uneven. Vitiligo has historically been understudied and underfunded for research; this is common among several conditions adversely affecting people of color in the United States.¹³

THE COMPARISON

A Vitiligo in a young Hispanic female, which spared the area under a ring. The patient has spotty return of pigment on the hand after narrowband UVB treatment.

B Vitiligo on the hand in a young Hispanic male.

Photographs courtesy of Richard P. Usatine, MD.

Vitiligo is a chronic autoimmune disorder characterized by areas of depigmented white patches on the skin due to the loss of melanocytes in the epidermis. Various theories on the pathogenesis of vitiligo exist; however, autoimmune destruction of melanocytes remains the leading hypothesis, followed by intrinsic defects in melanocytes.¹ Vitiligo is associated with various autoimmune diseases but is most frequently reported in conjunction with thyroid disorders.²

Epidemiology

Vitiligo affects approximately 1% of the US population and up to 8% worldwide.² There is no difference in prevalence between races or genders. Females typically acquire the disease earlier than males. Onset may occur at any age, although about half of patients will have vitiligo by 20 years of age.¹

Key clinical features in people with darker skin tones

Bright white patches are characteristic of vitiligo. The patches typically are asymptomatic and often affect the hands (Figures A and B), perioral skin, feet, and scalp, as well as areas more vulnerable to friction and trauma, such as the elbows and knees.² Trichrome lesions—consisting of varying zones of white (depigmented), lighter brown (hypopigmented), and normal skin—are most commonly seen in individuals with darker skin. Trichrome vitiligo is considered an actively progressing variant of vitiligo.²

An important distinction when diagnosing vitiligo is evaluating for segmental vs nonsegmental vitiligo. Although nonsegmental vitiligo—the more common subtype—is characterized by symmetric distribution and a less predictable course, segmental vitiligo manifests in a localized and unilateral distribution, often avoiding extension past the midline. Segmental vitiligo typically manifests at a younger age and follows a more rapidly stabilizing course.³

Worth noting

Given that stark contrasts between pigmented and depigmented lesions are more prominent in darker skin tones, vitiligo can be more socially stigmatizing and psychologically devastating in these patients.^4,5

Treatment of vitiligo includes narrowband UVB (NB-UVB) light phototherapy, excimer laser, topical corticosteroids, topical calcineurin inhibitors such as tacrolimus and pimecrolimus, and surgical melanocyte transplantation.¹ In July 2022, ruxolitinib cream 1.5% was approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for nonsegmental vitiligo in patients 12 years and older.^6,7 It is the only FDA-approved therapy for vitiligo. It is thought to work by inhibiting the Janus kinase– signal transducers and activators of the transcription pathway.⁶ However, topical ruxolitinib is expensive, costing more than $2000 for 60 g.⁸

Health disparity highlight

A 2021 study reviewing the coverage policies of 15 commercial health care insurance companies, 50 BlueCross BlueShield plans, Medicaid, Medicare, and Veterans Affairs plans found inequities in the insurance coverage patterns for therapies used to treat vitiligo. There were 2 commonly cited reasons for denying coverage for therapies: vitiligo was considered cosmetic and therapies were not FDA approved.⁷ In comparison, NB-UVB light phototherapy for psoriasis is not considered cosmetic and has a much higher insurance coverage rate.^9,10 The out-of-pocket cost for a patient to purchase their own NB-UVB light phototherapy is more than $5000.11 Not all patients of color are economically disadvantaged, but in the United States, Black and Hispanic populations experience disproportionately higher rates of poverty (19% and 17%, respectively) compared to their White counterparts (8%).¹²

Final thoughts

US Food and Drug Administration approval of new drugs or new treatment indications comes after years of research discovery and large-scale trials. This pursuit of new discovery, however, is uneven. Vitiligo has historically been understudied and underfunded for research; this is common among several conditions adversely affecting people of color in the United States.¹³

THE COMPARISON

A Vitiligo in a young Hispanic female, which spared the area under a ring. The patient has spotty return of pigment on the hand after narrowband UVB treatment.

B Vitiligo on the hand in a young Hispanic male.

Photographs courtesy of Richard P. Usatine, MD.

Vitiligo is a chronic autoimmune disorder characterized by areas of depigmented white patches on the skin due to the loss of melanocytes in the epidermis. Various theories on the pathogenesis of vitiligo exist; however, autoimmune destruction of melanocytes remains the leading hypothesis, followed by intrinsic defects in melanocytes.¹ Vitiligo is associated with various autoimmune diseases but is most frequently reported in conjunction with thyroid disorders.²

Epidemiology

Vitiligo affects approximately 1% of the US population and up to 8% worldwide.² There is no difference in prevalence between races or genders. Females typically acquire the disease earlier than males. Onset may occur at any age, although about half of patients will have vitiligo by 20 years of age.¹

Key clinical features in people with darker skin tones

Bright white patches are characteristic of vitiligo. The patches typically are asymptomatic and often affect the hands (Figures A and B), perioral skin, feet, and scalp, as well as areas more vulnerable to friction and trauma, such as the elbows and knees.² Trichrome lesions—consisting of varying zones of white (depigmented), lighter brown (hypopigmented), and normal skin—are most commonly seen in individuals with darker skin. Trichrome vitiligo is considered an actively progressing variant of vitiligo.²

An important distinction when diagnosing vitiligo is evaluating for segmental vs nonsegmental vitiligo. Although nonsegmental vitiligo—the more common subtype—is characterized by symmetric distribution and a less predictable course, segmental vitiligo manifests in a localized and unilateral distribution, often avoiding extension past the midline. Segmental vitiligo typically manifests at a younger age and follows a more rapidly stabilizing course.³

Worth noting

Given that stark contrasts between pigmented and depigmented lesions are more prominent in darker skin tones, vitiligo can be more socially stigmatizing and psychologically devastating in these patients.^4,5

Treatment of vitiligo includes narrowband UVB (NB-UVB) light phototherapy, excimer laser, topical corticosteroids, topical calcineurin inhibitors such as tacrolimus and pimecrolimus, and surgical melanocyte transplantation.¹ In July 2022, ruxolitinib cream 1.5% was approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for nonsegmental vitiligo in patients 12 years and older.^6,7 It is the only FDA-approved therapy for vitiligo. It is thought to work by inhibiting the Janus kinase– signal transducers and activators of the transcription pathway.⁶ However, topical ruxolitinib is expensive, costing more than $2000 for 60 g.⁸

Health disparity highlight

A 2021 study reviewing the coverage policies of 15 commercial health care insurance companies, 50 BlueCross BlueShield plans, Medicaid, Medicare, and Veterans Affairs plans found inequities in the insurance coverage patterns for therapies used to treat vitiligo. There were 2 commonly cited reasons for denying coverage for therapies: vitiligo was considered cosmetic and therapies were not FDA approved.⁷ In comparison, NB-UVB light phototherapy for psoriasis is not considered cosmetic and has a much higher insurance coverage rate.^9,10 The out-of-pocket cost for a patient to purchase their own NB-UVB light phototherapy is more than $5000.11 Not all patients of color are economically disadvantaged, but in the United States, Black and Hispanic populations experience disproportionately higher rates of poverty (19% and 17%, respectively) compared to their White counterparts (8%).¹²

Final thoughts

US Food and Drug Administration approval of new drugs or new treatment indications comes after years of research discovery and large-scale trials. This pursuit of new discovery, however, is uneven. Vitiligo has historically been understudied and underfunded for research; this is common among several conditions adversely affecting people of color in the United States.¹³

Childhood stress can change the brain negatively, according to a new study that says Black children are affected more because they experience more poverty and adversity.

“The researchers analyzed MRI scans to identify small differences in the volume of certain brain structures, and said these could accumulate as children age and play a role in the later development of mental health problems,” STAT News reported. “The finding, part of an emerging research field looking at how racism and other social factors may affect the physical architecture of the brain, may help explain longstanding racial disparities in the prevalence of psychiatric disorders such as PTSD.”

The study was published in The American Journal of Psychiatry.

Brain development is affected by “disparities faced by certain groups of people,” even among children as young as 9 years old, said Nathaniel Harnett, an assistant professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, Boston, and the study’s senior author. “If we’re going to treat the world as colorblind, we’re not going to create mental health solutions that are effective for all people.”

The study used evidence from the Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development Study, which the National Institutes of Health established in 2015 to study the brains and experiences of thousands of American children through early adulthood.

Brain scans revealed that Black children had less gray matter in 11 of 14 brain areas that were examined. Disparities in 8 of the 14 brain areas were affected by childhood adversity, particularly poverty.

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

Childhood stress can change the brain negatively, according to a new study that says Black children are affected more because they experience more poverty and adversity.

“The researchers analyzed MRI scans to identify small differences in the volume of certain brain structures, and said these could accumulate as children age and play a role in the later development of mental health problems,” STAT News reported. “The finding, part of an emerging research field looking at how racism and other social factors may affect the physical architecture of the brain, may help explain longstanding racial disparities in the prevalence of psychiatric disorders such as PTSD.”

The study was published in The American Journal of Psychiatry.

Brain development is affected by “disparities faced by certain groups of people,” even among children as young as 9 years old, said Nathaniel Harnett, an assistant professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, Boston, and the study’s senior author. “If we’re going to treat the world as colorblind, we’re not going to create mental health solutions that are effective for all people.”

The study used evidence from the Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development Study, which the National Institutes of Health established in 2015 to study the brains and experiences of thousands of American children through early adulthood.

Brain scans revealed that Black children had less gray matter in 11 of 14 brain areas that were examined. Disparities in 8 of the 14 brain areas were affected by childhood adversity, particularly poverty.

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

Childhood stress can change the brain negatively, according to a new study that says Black children are affected more because they experience more poverty and adversity.

“The researchers analyzed MRI scans to identify small differences in the volume of certain brain structures, and said these could accumulate as children age and play a role in the later development of mental health problems,” STAT News reported. “The finding, part of an emerging research field looking at how racism and other social factors may affect the physical architecture of the brain, may help explain longstanding racial disparities in the prevalence of psychiatric disorders such as PTSD.”

The study was published in The American Journal of Psychiatry.

Brain development is affected by “disparities faced by certain groups of people,” even among children as young as 9 years old, said Nathaniel Harnett, an assistant professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, Boston, and the study’s senior author. “If we’re going to treat the world as colorblind, we’re not going to create mental health solutions that are effective for all people.”

The study used evidence from the Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development Study, which the National Institutes of Health established in 2015 to study the brains and experiences of thousands of American children through early adulthood.

Brain scans revealed that Black children had less gray matter in 11 of 14 brain areas that were examined. Disparities in 8 of the 14 brain areas were affected by childhood adversity, particularly poverty.

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

Cardiovascular-related deaths increased dramatically in 2020, marking the largest single-year increase since 2015 and surpassing the previous record from 2003, according to the American Heart Association’s 2023 Statistical Update.

During the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, the largest increases in cardiovascular disease (CVD) deaths were seen among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people.

“We thought we had been improving as a country with respect to CVD deaths over the past few decades,” Connie Tsao, MD, chair of the AHA Statistical Update writing committee, told this news organization.

Since 2020, however, those trends have changed. Dr. Tsao, a staff cardiologist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, noted the firsthand experience that many clinicians had in seeing the shift.

“We observed this sharp rise in age-adjusted CVD deaths, which corresponds to the COVID-19 pandemic,” she said. “Those of us health care providers knew from the overfull hospitals and ICUs that clearly COVID took a toll, particularly in those with cardiovascular risk factors.”

The AHA Statistical Update was published online in the journal Circulation.
 

Data on deaths

Each year, the American Heart Association and National Institutes of Health report the latest statistics related to heart disease, stroke, and cardiovascular risk factors. The 2023 update includes additional information about pandemic-related data.

Overall, the number of people who died from cardiovascular disease increased during the first year of the pandemic, rising from 876,613 in 2019 to 928,741 in 2020. This topped the previous high of 910,000 in 2003.

In addition, the age-adjusted mortality rate increased for the first time in several years, Dr. Tsao said, by a “fairly substantial” 4.6%. The age-adjusted mortality rate incorporates the variability in the aging population from year to year, accounting for higher death rates among older people.

“Even though our total number of deaths has been slowly increasing over the past decade, we have seen a decline each year in our age-adjusted rates – until 2020,” she said. “I think that is very indicative of what has been going on within our country – and the world – in light of people of all ages being impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, especially before vaccines were available to slow the spread.”

The largest increases in CVD-related deaths occurred among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people, who were most heavily affected during the first year of the pandemic.

“People from communities of color were among those most highly impacted, especially early on, often due to a disproportionate burden of cardiovascular risk factors, such as hypertension and obesity,” Michelle Albert, MD, MPH, president of AHA and a professor of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, said in a statement.

Dr. Albert, who is also the director of UCSF’s Center for the Study of Adversity and Cardiovascular Disease, does research on health equity and noted the disparities seen in the 2020 numbers. “Additionally, there are socioeconomic considerations, as well as the ongoing impact of structural racism on multiple factors, including limiting the ability to access quality health care,” she said.
 

Additional considerations

In a special commentary, the Statistical Update writing committee pointed to the need to track data for other underrepresented communities, including LGBTQ people and those living in rural or urban areas. The authors outlined several ways to better understand the effects of identity and social determinants of health, as well as strategies to reduce cardiovascular-related disparities.

“This year’s writing group made a concerted effort to gather information on specific social factors related to health risk and outcomes, including sexual orientation, gender identity, urbanization, and socioeconomic position,” Dr. Tsao said. “However, the data are lacking because these communities are grossly underrepresented in clinical and epidemiological research.”

For the next several years, the AHA Statistical Update will likely include more insights about the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as ongoing disparities.

“For sure, we will be continuing to see the effects of the pandemic for years to come,” Dr. Tsao said. “Recognition of the disparities in outcomes among vulnerable groups should be a call to action among health care providers and researchers, administration, and policy leaders to investigate the reasons and make changes to reverse these trends.”

The statistical update was prepared by a volunteer writing group on behalf of the American Heart Association Council on Epidemiology and Prevention Statistics Committee and Stroke Statistics Subcommittee.

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

Cardiovascular-related deaths increased dramatically in 2020, marking the largest single-year increase since 2015 and surpassing the previous record from 2003, according to the American Heart Association’s 2023 Statistical Update.

During the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, the largest increases in cardiovascular disease (CVD) deaths were seen among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people.

“We thought we had been improving as a country with respect to CVD deaths over the past few decades,” Connie Tsao, MD, chair of the AHA Statistical Update writing committee, told this news organization.

Since 2020, however, those trends have changed. Dr. Tsao, a staff cardiologist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, noted the firsthand experience that many clinicians had in seeing the shift.

“We observed this sharp rise in age-adjusted CVD deaths, which corresponds to the COVID-19 pandemic,” she said. “Those of us health care providers knew from the overfull hospitals and ICUs that clearly COVID took a toll, particularly in those with cardiovascular risk factors.”

The AHA Statistical Update was published online in the journal Circulation.
 

Data on deaths

Each year, the American Heart Association and National Institutes of Health report the latest statistics related to heart disease, stroke, and cardiovascular risk factors. The 2023 update includes additional information about pandemic-related data.

Overall, the number of people who died from cardiovascular disease increased during the first year of the pandemic, rising from 876,613 in 2019 to 928,741 in 2020. This topped the previous high of 910,000 in 2003.

In addition, the age-adjusted mortality rate increased for the first time in several years, Dr. Tsao said, by a “fairly substantial” 4.6%. The age-adjusted mortality rate incorporates the variability in the aging population from year to year, accounting for higher death rates among older people.

“Even though our total number of deaths has been slowly increasing over the past decade, we have seen a decline each year in our age-adjusted rates – until 2020,” she said. “I think that is very indicative of what has been going on within our country – and the world – in light of people of all ages being impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, especially before vaccines were available to slow the spread.”

The largest increases in CVD-related deaths occurred among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people, who were most heavily affected during the first year of the pandemic.

“People from communities of color were among those most highly impacted, especially early on, often due to a disproportionate burden of cardiovascular risk factors, such as hypertension and obesity,” Michelle Albert, MD, MPH, president of AHA and a professor of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, said in a statement.

Dr. Albert, who is also the director of UCSF’s Center for the Study of Adversity and Cardiovascular Disease, does research on health equity and noted the disparities seen in the 2020 numbers. “Additionally, there are socioeconomic considerations, as well as the ongoing impact of structural racism on multiple factors, including limiting the ability to access quality health care,” she said.
 

Additional considerations

In a special commentary, the Statistical Update writing committee pointed to the need to track data for other underrepresented communities, including LGBTQ people and those living in rural or urban areas. The authors outlined several ways to better understand the effects of identity and social determinants of health, as well as strategies to reduce cardiovascular-related disparities.

“This year’s writing group made a concerted effort to gather information on specific social factors related to health risk and outcomes, including sexual orientation, gender identity, urbanization, and socioeconomic position,” Dr. Tsao said. “However, the data are lacking because these communities are grossly underrepresented in clinical and epidemiological research.”

For the next several years, the AHA Statistical Update will likely include more insights about the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as ongoing disparities.

“For sure, we will be continuing to see the effects of the pandemic for years to come,” Dr. Tsao said. “Recognition of the disparities in outcomes among vulnerable groups should be a call to action among health care providers and researchers, administration, and policy leaders to investigate the reasons and make changes to reverse these trends.”

The statistical update was prepared by a volunteer writing group on behalf of the American Heart Association Council on Epidemiology and Prevention Statistics Committee and Stroke Statistics Subcommittee.

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

Cardiovascular-related deaths increased dramatically in 2020, marking the largest single-year increase since 2015 and surpassing the previous record from 2003, according to the American Heart Association’s 2023 Statistical Update.

During the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, the largest increases in cardiovascular disease (CVD) deaths were seen among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people.

“We thought we had been improving as a country with respect to CVD deaths over the past few decades,” Connie Tsao, MD, chair of the AHA Statistical Update writing committee, told this news organization.

Since 2020, however, those trends have changed. Dr. Tsao, a staff cardiologist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, noted the firsthand experience that many clinicians had in seeing the shift.

“We observed this sharp rise in age-adjusted CVD deaths, which corresponds to the COVID-19 pandemic,” she said. “Those of us health care providers knew from the overfull hospitals and ICUs that clearly COVID took a toll, particularly in those with cardiovascular risk factors.”

The AHA Statistical Update was published online in the journal Circulation.
 

Data on deaths

Each year, the American Heart Association and National Institutes of Health report the latest statistics related to heart disease, stroke, and cardiovascular risk factors. The 2023 update includes additional information about pandemic-related data.

Overall, the number of people who died from cardiovascular disease increased during the first year of the pandemic, rising from 876,613 in 2019 to 928,741 in 2020. This topped the previous high of 910,000 in 2003.

In addition, the age-adjusted mortality rate increased for the first time in several years, Dr. Tsao said, by a “fairly substantial” 4.6%. The age-adjusted mortality rate incorporates the variability in the aging population from year to year, accounting for higher death rates among older people.

“Even though our total number of deaths has been slowly increasing over the past decade, we have seen a decline each year in our age-adjusted rates – until 2020,” she said. “I think that is very indicative of what has been going on within our country – and the world – in light of people of all ages being impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, especially before vaccines were available to slow the spread.”

The largest increases in CVD-related deaths occurred among Asian, Black, and Hispanic people, who were most heavily affected during the first year of the pandemic.

“People from communities of color were among those most highly impacted, especially early on, often due to a disproportionate burden of cardiovascular risk factors, such as hypertension and obesity,” Michelle Albert, MD, MPH, president of AHA and a professor of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, said in a statement.

Dr. Albert, who is also the director of UCSF’s Center for the Study of Adversity and Cardiovascular Disease, does research on health equity and noted the disparities seen in the 2020 numbers. “Additionally, there are socioeconomic considerations, as well as the ongoing impact of structural racism on multiple factors, including limiting the ability to access quality health care,” she said.
 

Additional considerations

In a special commentary, the Statistical Update writing committee pointed to the need to track data for other underrepresented communities, including LGBTQ people and those living in rural or urban areas. The authors outlined several ways to better understand the effects of identity and social determinants of health, as well as strategies to reduce cardiovascular-related disparities.

“This year’s writing group made a concerted effort to gather information on specific social factors related to health risk and outcomes, including sexual orientation, gender identity, urbanization, and socioeconomic position,” Dr. Tsao said. “However, the data are lacking because these communities are grossly underrepresented in clinical and epidemiological research.”

For the next several years, the AHA Statistical Update will likely include more insights about the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as ongoing disparities.

“For sure, we will be continuing to see the effects of the pandemic for years to come,” Dr. Tsao said. “Recognition of the disparities in outcomes among vulnerable groups should be a call to action among health care providers and researchers, administration, and policy leaders to investigate the reasons and make changes to reverse these trends.”

The statistical update was prepared by a volunteer writing group on behalf of the American Heart Association Council on Epidemiology and Prevention Statistics Committee and Stroke Statistics Subcommittee.

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

Pregnancy-associated deaths, including drug-related deaths and homicide, were up 35% in 2020, compared with prepandemic 2019, new research indicates.

The data also show a 7.1% decrease in pregnancy-related suicides in 2020 from 2019.

The study, led by Claire E. Margerison, PhD, with the department of epidemiology and biostatistics at Michigan State University, East Lansing, included 4,528 pregnancy-associated deaths. The rate of deaths per 100,000 live births from April to December 2020 was 66.9 (95% confidence interval, 63.9-70.1). The comparative rate from April to December 2019 was 49.6. Researchers looked at that time period because the pandemic started in March 2020.

The findings were published online in JAMA Open Network.
 

Drug-related deaths up 55.3%

During the study period, drug deaths increased 55.3% and deaths from homicide increased 41.2%. Deaths from obstetric and other causes (mainly vehicle crashes) increased 28.4% and 56.7%, respectively, according to Dr. Margerison's group.

“Although pregnancy-associated deaths increased over time, increases from 2019 to 2020 were substantially larger than increases from 2018 to 2019,” the authors wrote.

The findings align with deaths in the general population in that time frame, they added.

Another study – this one looking at all-cause and cause-specific mortality from 2019 to 2020 in recently pregnant women, also published in JAMA Network Open, found significant racial and ethnic disparities in rates and cause of death.

According to the study, “Compared with non-Hispanic White women, mortality rates were three- to fivefold higher among American Indian or Alaska Native women for every cause, including suicide. Likewise, these findings suggest that non-Hispanic Black women experienced significantly higher mortality rates across causes, with the highest rates for homicide.”

Dr. Margerison and colleagues did not try to answer what caused the increases but pointed to the fentanyl epidemic, the murder of George Floyd, and COVID-19–related economic strain as potential stressors. They also suggest fewer screenings during the pandemic may have played a role.
 

Prevention opportunities missed

“Although pregnancy is considered an opportunity for screening and prevention related to physical, mental, and behavioral health, our data suggest that such opportunities were missed for hundreds of pregnant people during the pandemic,” the authors wrote.

Researchers analyzed cross-sectional U.S. death certificates from Jan. 1, 2018, to Dec. 31, 2020, for female U.S. residents ages 15-44 years. They then obtained the count for live births for the same population and time frame from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention WONDER database.

They were able to identify pregnancy-associated deaths as the 2003 Revised Death Certificate contains a standardized pregnancy checkbox that asks whether the person was pregnant at the time of death, within 42 days of death, or within 43 days to 1 year of death.

Researchers also included deaths with ICD-10 codes linked with death from obstetric causes.

Deaths from overdose, suicide, and homicide are making up large and growing proportions of all deaths during pregnancy and in the first year postpartum, the authors report.

Dr. Margerison and coauthors, in research published in 2022, reported that these causes account for more than one-fifth of all pregnancy-related deaths. They also reported that drug-related deaths and homicides in this population have increased over the past 10 years.

“Substantial racial and ethnic inequities in these deaths exist,” they wrote in that paper.

The authors concluded in the current research: “Our study findings suggest that there is a need for prevention and intervention efforts, including harm-reduction strategies, tailored to pregnant and postpartum women, particularly during times of population stress and decreased utilization of preventive care, such as a pandemic.”

Dr. Margerison and coauthors reported receiving grant support from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development during the study. One coauthor received personal fees from the World Health Organization and Population Reference Bureau outside the submitted work. One coauthor reported receiving grant support from the National Institutes of Mental Health during the study.

*This story was updated on 2/1.

Pregnancy-associated deaths, including drug-related deaths and homicide, were up 35% in 2020, compared with prepandemic 2019, new research indicates.

The data also show a 7.1% decrease in pregnancy-related suicides in 2020 from 2019.

The study, led by Claire E. Margerison, PhD, with the department of epidemiology and biostatistics at Michigan State University, East Lansing, included 4,528 pregnancy-associated deaths. The rate of deaths per 100,000 live births from April to December 2020 was 66.9 (95% confidence interval, 63.9-70.1). The comparative rate from April to December 2019 was 49.6. Researchers looked at that time period because the pandemic started in March 2020.

The findings were published online in JAMA Open Network.
 

Drug-related deaths up 55.3%

During the study period, drug deaths increased 55.3% and deaths from homicide increased 41.2%. Deaths from obstetric and other causes (mainly vehicle crashes) increased 28.4% and 56.7%, respectively, according to Dr. Margerison's group.

“Although pregnancy-associated deaths increased over time, increases from 2019 to 2020 were substantially larger than increases from 2018 to 2019,” the authors wrote.

The findings align with deaths in the general population in that time frame, they added.

Another study – this one looking at all-cause and cause-specific mortality from 2019 to 2020 in recently pregnant women, also published in JAMA Network Open, found significant racial and ethnic disparities in rates and cause of death.

According to the study, “Compared with non-Hispanic White women, mortality rates were three- to fivefold higher among American Indian or Alaska Native women for every cause, including suicide. Likewise, these findings suggest that non-Hispanic Black women experienced significantly higher mortality rates across causes, with the highest rates for homicide.”

Dr. Margerison and colleagues did not try to answer what caused the increases but pointed to the fentanyl epidemic, the murder of George Floyd, and COVID-19–related economic strain as potential stressors. They also suggest fewer screenings during the pandemic may have played a role.
 

Prevention opportunities missed

“Although pregnancy is considered an opportunity for screening and prevention related to physical, mental, and behavioral health, our data suggest that such opportunities were missed for hundreds of pregnant people during the pandemic,” the authors wrote.

Researchers analyzed cross-sectional U.S. death certificates from Jan. 1, 2018, to Dec. 31, 2020, for female U.S. residents ages 15-44 years. They then obtained the count for live births for the same population and time frame from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention WONDER database.

They were able to identify pregnancy-associated deaths as the 2003 Revised Death Certificate contains a standardized pregnancy checkbox that asks whether the person was pregnant at the time of death, within 42 days of death, or within 43 days to 1 year of death.

Researchers also included deaths with ICD-10 codes linked with death from obstetric causes.

Deaths from overdose, suicide, and homicide are making up large and growing proportions of all deaths during pregnancy and in the first year postpartum, the authors report.

Dr. Margerison and coauthors, in research published in 2022, reported that these causes account for more than one-fifth of all pregnancy-related deaths. They also reported that drug-related deaths and homicides in this population have increased over the past 10 years.

“Substantial racial and ethnic inequities in these deaths exist,” they wrote in that paper.

The authors concluded in the current research: “Our study findings suggest that there is a need for prevention and intervention efforts, including harm-reduction strategies, tailored to pregnant and postpartum women, particularly during times of population stress and decreased utilization of preventive care, such as a pandemic.”

Dr. Margerison and coauthors reported receiving grant support from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development during the study. One coauthor received personal fees from the World Health Organization and Population Reference Bureau outside the submitted work. One coauthor reported receiving grant support from the National Institutes of Mental Health during the study.

*This story was updated on 2/1.

Pregnancy-associated deaths, including drug-related deaths and homicide, were up 35% in 2020, compared with prepandemic 2019, new research indicates.

The data also show a 7.1% decrease in pregnancy-related suicides in 2020 from 2019.

The study, led by Claire E. Margerison, PhD, with the department of epidemiology and biostatistics at Michigan State University, East Lansing, included 4,528 pregnancy-associated deaths. The rate of deaths per 100,000 live births from April to December 2020 was 66.9 (95% confidence interval, 63.9-70.1). The comparative rate from April to December 2019 was 49.6. Researchers looked at that time period because the pandemic started in March 2020.

The findings were published online in JAMA Open Network.
 

Drug-related deaths up 55.3%

During the study period, drug deaths increased 55.3% and deaths from homicide increased 41.2%. Deaths from obstetric and other causes (mainly vehicle crashes) increased 28.4% and 56.7%, respectively, according to Dr. Margerison's group.

“Although pregnancy-associated deaths increased over time, increases from 2019 to 2020 were substantially larger than increases from 2018 to 2019,” the authors wrote.

The findings align with deaths in the general population in that time frame, they added.

Another study – this one looking at all-cause and cause-specific mortality from 2019 to 2020 in recently pregnant women, also published in JAMA Network Open, found significant racial and ethnic disparities in rates and cause of death.

According to the study, “Compared with non-Hispanic White women, mortality rates were three- to fivefold higher among American Indian or Alaska Native women for every cause, including suicide. Likewise, these findings suggest that non-Hispanic Black women experienced significantly higher mortality rates across causes, with the highest rates for homicide.”

Dr. Margerison and colleagues did not try to answer what caused the increases but pointed to the fentanyl epidemic, the murder of George Floyd, and COVID-19–related economic strain as potential stressors. They also suggest fewer screenings during the pandemic may have played a role.
 

Prevention opportunities missed

“Although pregnancy is considered an opportunity for screening and prevention related to physical, mental, and behavioral health, our data suggest that such opportunities were missed for hundreds of pregnant people during the pandemic,” the authors wrote.

Researchers analyzed cross-sectional U.S. death certificates from Jan. 1, 2018, to Dec. 31, 2020, for female U.S. residents ages 15-44 years. They then obtained the count for live births for the same population and time frame from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention WONDER database.

They were able to identify pregnancy-associated deaths as the 2003 Revised Death Certificate contains a standardized pregnancy checkbox that asks whether the person was pregnant at the time of death, within 42 days of death, or within 43 days to 1 year of death.

Researchers also included deaths with ICD-10 codes linked with death from obstetric causes.

Deaths from overdose, suicide, and homicide are making up large and growing proportions of all deaths during pregnancy and in the first year postpartum, the authors report.

Dr. Margerison and coauthors, in research published in 2022, reported that these causes account for more than one-fifth of all pregnancy-related deaths. They also reported that drug-related deaths and homicides in this population have increased over the past 10 years.

“Substantial racial and ethnic inequities in these deaths exist,” they wrote in that paper.

The authors concluded in the current research: “Our study findings suggest that there is a need for prevention and intervention efforts, including harm-reduction strategies, tailored to pregnant and postpartum women, particularly during times of population stress and decreased utilization of preventive care, such as a pandemic.”

Dr. Margerison and coauthors reported receiving grant support from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development during the study. One coauthor received personal fees from the World Health Organization and Population Reference Bureau outside the submitted work. One coauthor reported receiving grant support from the National Institutes of Mental Health during the study.

*This story was updated on 2/1.