Mixed Topics

A low body mass index (BMI) indicative of being underweight as well as a weight loss of 2 kg or more over the course of 1 year were both independently associated with a higher mortality risk in the following year in patients with fibrotic interstitial lung disease (ILD). In contrast, being both overweight and obese appeared to be protective against mortality at the same 1-year endpoint, according to the results of an observational, retrospective cohort study.

Compared with patients with a normal BMI, patients who were underweight at a BMI of less than 18.5 kg/m² were over three times more likely to die at 1 year, at a hazard ratio of 3.19 (P < .001), senior author Christopher Ryerson, MD, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, and colleagues reported in the journal Chest.

In contrast, patients who were overweight with a BMI of 25-29 had roughly half the mortality risk as those who were underweight, at an HR of 0.52 (P < .001). Results were roughly similar among the patients with obesity with a BMI in excess of 30, among whom the HR for mortality at 1 year was 0.55 (P < .001), compared with those who were underweight.

“All patients with fibrotic ILD should still engage in exercise and eat an appropriate diet and it is still okay if you are obese and lose weight as a consequence of these lifestyle choices,” Dr. Ryerson told this news organization. “But physicians should be concerned about patients who have severe ILD and who start to lose weight unintentionally since this often represents end-stage fibrosis or some other major comorbidity such as cancer.”
 

Two large cohorts

Patients from two large cohorts, including the six-center Canadian Registry for Pulmonary Fibrosis (CARE-PF) and the ILD registry at the University of California, San Francisco, were enrolled in the study. A total of 1,786 patients were included from the CARE-PF registry, which served as the derivation cohort, while another 1,779 patients from the UCSF registry served as the validation cohort. In the CARE-PF cohort, 21% of all ILD patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg in the first year of follow-up, including 31% of patients with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF).

“Fewer patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg during the first year of the study period in the UCSF cohort,” the authors noted, at only 12% of all ILD patients, some 14% of those with IPF losing at least 1 kg of weight over the course of the year. At 2 years’ follow-up, 35% of all ILD patients had lost at least 1 kg, as had 46% of all IPF patients. Looking at BMI, “a higher value was associated with decreased 1-year mortality in both cohorts on unadjusted analysis,” the investigators observed.

In the CARE-PF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was exactly the same, at 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001). The authors then adjusted findings for the ILD-GAP index, which included gender, age, and physiology index. After adjusting for this index, the HR for 1-year mortality in the CARE-PF cohort was 0.93 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.90-0.967; P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR was 0.96 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.94-0.98; P = .001).

Indeed, each 1-kg change above a BMI of 30, adjusted for the ILD-GAP index, was associated with a reduced risk of mortality at 1 year in both cohorts, at an HR of 0.98 (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.98 (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. In contrast, patients who experienced a BMI weight loss of 2 kg or more within 1 year had a 41% increased risk of death in the subsequent year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP index and baseline BMI category, at an HR of 1.41 (P = .04). “The absolute change in mortality is much smaller than this,” Dr. Ryerson acknowledged.

“However, the magnitude [in mortality risk] did impress us and this illustrates how weight loss is a frequent consequence of end-stage disease which is something that we have all observed clinically as well,” he added.

Mortality risk plateaued in patients with a greater weight loss, the investigators observed, and there was no association between weight and subsequent 1-year mortality in either cohort on unadjusted analysis.

On the other hand, being underweight was associated with between a 13% and 16% higher mortality risk at 1 year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP, at an HR of 0.84 per 10 kg (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.87 per 10 kg (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. “Results were similar in the two studied cohorts, suggesting a robust and generalizable association of both low BMI and weight loss with mortality,” the authors emphasized.

“Together these studies highlight the potential link between obesity and ILD pathogenesis and further suggest the possibility that nutritional support may have a more specific and important role in the management of fibrotic ILD,” the authors wrote. Dr. Ryerson in turn noted that being able to determine mortality risk more accurately than current mortality risk prediction models are able to do is very helpful when dealing with what are sometimes life-and-death decisions.

He also said that having more insight into a patient’s prognosis can change how physicians manage patients with respect to either transplantation or palliation and potentially the need to be more aggressive with pharmacotherapy as well.
 

Addressing weight loss

Asked to comment on the findings, Elizabeth Volkmann, MD, associate professor of medicine, University of California, Los Angeles, said that this was a very important study and something that she feels does not get adequate attention in clinical practice.

“Weight loss and malnutrition occur in many patients with ILD due to various factors such as gastrointestinal side effects from antifibrotic therapies, decreased oral intake due to psychosocial issues including depression, and increased caloric requirements due to increased work of breathing,” she said in an interview. That said, weight loss and malnutrition are still often underaddressed during clinical encounters for patients with ILD where the focus is on lung health.

“This study illuminates the importance of addressing weight loss in all patients with ILD as it can contribute to heightened risk of mortality,” Dr. Volkmann reemphasized. Dr. Volkmann and colleagues themselves recently reported that radiographic progression of scleroderma lung disease over the course of 1-2 years is associated with an increased risk of long-term mortality, based on two independent studies of systemic sclerosis–interstitial lung disease with extensive follow-up.

Over 8 years of follow-up, patients in the Scleroderma Lung Study II who exhibited an increase of 2% or more in the QILD score – a score that reflects the sum of all abnormally classified scores, including those for fibrosis, ground glass opacity, and honeycombing – for the whole lung at 24 months had an almost fourfold increased risk in mortality, which was significant (P = .014).

The association of an increase in the QILD of at least 2% at 12 months was suggestive in its association with mortality in the SLS I cohort at 12 years of follow-up, a finding that suggests that radiographic progression measured at 2 years is a better predictor of long-term mortality than at 1 year, as the authors concluded.

The CARR-PF is funded by Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Ryerson reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Volkmann consults or has received speaker fees from Boehringer Ingelheim and has received grant support from Kadmon and Horizon Therapeutics.

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

A low body mass index (BMI) indicative of being underweight as well as a weight loss of 2 kg or more over the course of 1 year were both independently associated with a higher mortality risk in the following year in patients with fibrotic interstitial lung disease (ILD). In contrast, being both overweight and obese appeared to be protective against mortality at the same 1-year endpoint, according to the results of an observational, retrospective cohort study.

Compared with patients with a normal BMI, patients who were underweight at a BMI of less than 18.5 kg/m² were over three times more likely to die at 1 year, at a hazard ratio of 3.19 (P < .001), senior author Christopher Ryerson, MD, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, and colleagues reported in the journal Chest.

In contrast, patients who were overweight with a BMI of 25-29 had roughly half the mortality risk as those who were underweight, at an HR of 0.52 (P < .001). Results were roughly similar among the patients with obesity with a BMI in excess of 30, among whom the HR for mortality at 1 year was 0.55 (P < .001), compared with those who were underweight.

“All patients with fibrotic ILD should still engage in exercise and eat an appropriate diet and it is still okay if you are obese and lose weight as a consequence of these lifestyle choices,” Dr. Ryerson told this news organization. “But physicians should be concerned about patients who have severe ILD and who start to lose weight unintentionally since this often represents end-stage fibrosis or some other major comorbidity such as cancer.”
 

Two large cohorts

Patients from two large cohorts, including the six-center Canadian Registry for Pulmonary Fibrosis (CARE-PF) and the ILD registry at the University of California, San Francisco, were enrolled in the study. A total of 1,786 patients were included from the CARE-PF registry, which served as the derivation cohort, while another 1,779 patients from the UCSF registry served as the validation cohort. In the CARE-PF cohort, 21% of all ILD patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg in the first year of follow-up, including 31% of patients with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF).

“Fewer patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg during the first year of the study period in the UCSF cohort,” the authors noted, at only 12% of all ILD patients, some 14% of those with IPF losing at least 1 kg of weight over the course of the year. At 2 years’ follow-up, 35% of all ILD patients had lost at least 1 kg, as had 46% of all IPF patients. Looking at BMI, “a higher value was associated with decreased 1-year mortality in both cohorts on unadjusted analysis,” the investigators observed.

In the CARE-PF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was exactly the same, at 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001). The authors then adjusted findings for the ILD-GAP index, which included gender, age, and physiology index. After adjusting for this index, the HR for 1-year mortality in the CARE-PF cohort was 0.93 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.90-0.967; P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR was 0.96 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.94-0.98; P = .001).

Indeed, each 1-kg change above a BMI of 30, adjusted for the ILD-GAP index, was associated with a reduced risk of mortality at 1 year in both cohorts, at an HR of 0.98 (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.98 (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. In contrast, patients who experienced a BMI weight loss of 2 kg or more within 1 year had a 41% increased risk of death in the subsequent year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP index and baseline BMI category, at an HR of 1.41 (P = .04). “The absolute change in mortality is much smaller than this,” Dr. Ryerson acknowledged.

“However, the magnitude [in mortality risk] did impress us and this illustrates how weight loss is a frequent consequence of end-stage disease which is something that we have all observed clinically as well,” he added.

Mortality risk plateaued in patients with a greater weight loss, the investigators observed, and there was no association between weight and subsequent 1-year mortality in either cohort on unadjusted analysis.

On the other hand, being underweight was associated with between a 13% and 16% higher mortality risk at 1 year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP, at an HR of 0.84 per 10 kg (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.87 per 10 kg (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. “Results were similar in the two studied cohorts, suggesting a robust and generalizable association of both low BMI and weight loss with mortality,” the authors emphasized.

“Together these studies highlight the potential link between obesity and ILD pathogenesis and further suggest the possibility that nutritional support may have a more specific and important role in the management of fibrotic ILD,” the authors wrote. Dr. Ryerson in turn noted that being able to determine mortality risk more accurately than current mortality risk prediction models are able to do is very helpful when dealing with what are sometimes life-and-death decisions.

He also said that having more insight into a patient’s prognosis can change how physicians manage patients with respect to either transplantation or palliation and potentially the need to be more aggressive with pharmacotherapy as well.
 

Addressing weight loss

Asked to comment on the findings, Elizabeth Volkmann, MD, associate professor of medicine, University of California, Los Angeles, said that this was a very important study and something that she feels does not get adequate attention in clinical practice.

“Weight loss and malnutrition occur in many patients with ILD due to various factors such as gastrointestinal side effects from antifibrotic therapies, decreased oral intake due to psychosocial issues including depression, and increased caloric requirements due to increased work of breathing,” she said in an interview. That said, weight loss and malnutrition are still often underaddressed during clinical encounters for patients with ILD where the focus is on lung health.

“This study illuminates the importance of addressing weight loss in all patients with ILD as it can contribute to heightened risk of mortality,” Dr. Volkmann reemphasized. Dr. Volkmann and colleagues themselves recently reported that radiographic progression of scleroderma lung disease over the course of 1-2 years is associated with an increased risk of long-term mortality, based on two independent studies of systemic sclerosis–interstitial lung disease with extensive follow-up.

Over 8 years of follow-up, patients in the Scleroderma Lung Study II who exhibited an increase of 2% or more in the QILD score – a score that reflects the sum of all abnormally classified scores, including those for fibrosis, ground glass opacity, and honeycombing – for the whole lung at 24 months had an almost fourfold increased risk in mortality, which was significant (P = .014).

The association of an increase in the QILD of at least 2% at 12 months was suggestive in its association with mortality in the SLS I cohort at 12 years of follow-up, a finding that suggests that radiographic progression measured at 2 years is a better predictor of long-term mortality than at 1 year, as the authors concluded.

The CARR-PF is funded by Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Ryerson reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Volkmann consults or has received speaker fees from Boehringer Ingelheim and has received grant support from Kadmon and Horizon Therapeutics.

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

A low body mass index (BMI) indicative of being underweight as well as a weight loss of 2 kg or more over the course of 1 year were both independently associated with a higher mortality risk in the following year in patients with fibrotic interstitial lung disease (ILD). In contrast, being both overweight and obese appeared to be protective against mortality at the same 1-year endpoint, according to the results of an observational, retrospective cohort study.

Compared with patients with a normal BMI, patients who were underweight at a BMI of less than 18.5 kg/m² were over three times more likely to die at 1 year, at a hazard ratio of 3.19 (P < .001), senior author Christopher Ryerson, MD, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, and colleagues reported in the journal Chest.

In contrast, patients who were overweight with a BMI of 25-29 had roughly half the mortality risk as those who were underweight, at an HR of 0.52 (P < .001). Results were roughly similar among the patients with obesity with a BMI in excess of 30, among whom the HR for mortality at 1 year was 0.55 (P < .001), compared with those who were underweight.

“All patients with fibrotic ILD should still engage in exercise and eat an appropriate diet and it is still okay if you are obese and lose weight as a consequence of these lifestyle choices,” Dr. Ryerson told this news organization. “But physicians should be concerned about patients who have severe ILD and who start to lose weight unintentionally since this often represents end-stage fibrosis or some other major comorbidity such as cancer.”
 

Two large cohorts

Patients from two large cohorts, including the six-center Canadian Registry for Pulmonary Fibrosis (CARE-PF) and the ILD registry at the University of California, San Francisco, were enrolled in the study. A total of 1,786 patients were included from the CARE-PF registry, which served as the derivation cohort, while another 1,779 patients from the UCSF registry served as the validation cohort. In the CARE-PF cohort, 21% of all ILD patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg in the first year of follow-up, including 31% of patients with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF).

“Fewer patients experienced a weight loss of at least 1 kg during the first year of the study period in the UCSF cohort,” the authors noted, at only 12% of all ILD patients, some 14% of those with IPF losing at least 1 kg of weight over the course of the year. At 2 years’ follow-up, 35% of all ILD patients had lost at least 1 kg, as had 46% of all IPF patients. Looking at BMI, “a higher value was associated with decreased 1-year mortality in both cohorts on unadjusted analysis,” the investigators observed.

In the CARE-PF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR for 1-year mortality was exactly the same, at 0.96 per unit difference in BMI (P < .001). The authors then adjusted findings for the ILD-GAP index, which included gender, age, and physiology index. After adjusting for this index, the HR for 1-year mortality in the CARE-PF cohort was 0.93 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.90-0.967; P < .001), while in the UCSF cohort, the HR was 0.96 per unit change in BMI (95% CI, 0.94-0.98; P = .001).

Indeed, each 1-kg change above a BMI of 30, adjusted for the ILD-GAP index, was associated with a reduced risk of mortality at 1 year in both cohorts, at an HR of 0.98 (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.98 (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. In contrast, patients who experienced a BMI weight loss of 2 kg or more within 1 year had a 41% increased risk of death in the subsequent year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP index and baseline BMI category, at an HR of 1.41 (P = .04). “The absolute change in mortality is much smaller than this,” Dr. Ryerson acknowledged.

“However, the magnitude [in mortality risk] did impress us and this illustrates how weight loss is a frequent consequence of end-stage disease which is something that we have all observed clinically as well,” he added.

Mortality risk plateaued in patients with a greater weight loss, the investigators observed, and there was no association between weight and subsequent 1-year mortality in either cohort on unadjusted analysis.

On the other hand, being underweight was associated with between a 13% and 16% higher mortality risk at 1 year after adjusting for the ILD-GAP, at an HR of 0.84 per 10 kg (P = .001) in the CARE-PF cohort and an HR of 0.87 per 10 kg (P < .001) in the UCSF cohort. “Results were similar in the two studied cohorts, suggesting a robust and generalizable association of both low BMI and weight loss with mortality,” the authors emphasized.

“Together these studies highlight the potential link between obesity and ILD pathogenesis and further suggest the possibility that nutritional support may have a more specific and important role in the management of fibrotic ILD,” the authors wrote. Dr. Ryerson in turn noted that being able to determine mortality risk more accurately than current mortality risk prediction models are able to do is very helpful when dealing with what are sometimes life-and-death decisions.

He also said that having more insight into a patient’s prognosis can change how physicians manage patients with respect to either transplantation or palliation and potentially the need to be more aggressive with pharmacotherapy as well.
 

Addressing weight loss

Asked to comment on the findings, Elizabeth Volkmann, MD, associate professor of medicine, University of California, Los Angeles, said that this was a very important study and something that she feels does not get adequate attention in clinical practice.

“Weight loss and malnutrition occur in many patients with ILD due to various factors such as gastrointestinal side effects from antifibrotic therapies, decreased oral intake due to psychosocial issues including depression, and increased caloric requirements due to increased work of breathing,” she said in an interview. That said, weight loss and malnutrition are still often underaddressed during clinical encounters for patients with ILD where the focus is on lung health.

“This study illuminates the importance of addressing weight loss in all patients with ILD as it can contribute to heightened risk of mortality,” Dr. Volkmann reemphasized. Dr. Volkmann and colleagues themselves recently reported that radiographic progression of scleroderma lung disease over the course of 1-2 years is associated with an increased risk of long-term mortality, based on two independent studies of systemic sclerosis–interstitial lung disease with extensive follow-up.

Over 8 years of follow-up, patients in the Scleroderma Lung Study II who exhibited an increase of 2% or more in the QILD score – a score that reflects the sum of all abnormally classified scores, including those for fibrosis, ground glass opacity, and honeycombing – for the whole lung at 24 months had an almost fourfold increased risk in mortality, which was significant (P = .014).

The association of an increase in the QILD of at least 2% at 12 months was suggestive in its association with mortality in the SLS I cohort at 12 years of follow-up, a finding that suggests that radiographic progression measured at 2 years is a better predictor of long-term mortality than at 1 year, as the authors concluded.

The CARR-PF is funded by Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Ryerson reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim. Dr. Volkmann consults or has received speaker fees from Boehringer Ingelheim and has received grant support from Kadmon and Horizon Therapeutics.

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

It was a freezing December day, and two young brothers were playing outside near a swimming pool when the younger boy, a 3-year-old toddler, fell into the water.

The 7-year-old immediately jumped into the pool to save his brother and was able to pull the toddler to the pool steps where the boy’s head was above water. But the icy temperatures overcame the older brother and he drifted underwater.

“Despite being at the forefront of medicine, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand,” said Harley Rotbart, MD, author of “Miracles We Have Seen” (Health Communications: Deerfield Beach, Fla., 2016).

Paramedics arrived to find both boys unconscious and rushed them to the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. The younger boy regained consciousness in the ICU and recovered. The 7-year-old, however, was unresponsive and remained in a coma, said Dr. Rotbart a pediatrician and author based in Denver.

Family members stayed at the boy’s bedside and prayed. But after several weeks, the child’s condition remained unchanged. His parents began to discuss ending life support and organ donation. Then late one night, as Dr. Rotbart sat reading to the unconscious patient, the little boy squeezed his hand. In disbelief, Dr. Rotbart told all of his colleagues about the squeeze the next morning. Everyone attributed the movement to an involuntary muscle spasm, he said. After all, every test and scan showed the boy had no brain function.

But later that day, the child grasped another staff member’s hand. Shortly after that, he squeezed in response to a command. Dr. Rotbart and his staff were stunned, but cautious about feeling too much hope. 

Days later, the child opened his eyes. Then, he smiled. His parents were overjoyed. 

“When he walked out of the hospital more than 2 months after the near-drowning and his heroic rescue of his little brother, we all cheered and cried,” Dr. Rotbart wrote in his book. “We cried many times in the weeks preceding, and I still cry whenever I recall this story.”

The experience, which happened years ago when Dr. Rotbart was a trainee, has stayed with the pediatrician his entire career. 

“His awakening was seemingly impossible – and then it happened,” Dr. Rotbart said. “Despite being at the forefront of medicine and science, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand. And even when we think we understand, we are frequently proven wrong.”

For many, Dr. Rotbart’s experience raises questions about the existence of medical miracles. Although the term can have different definitions, a “medical miracle” generally refers to an unexpected recovery despite a dire prognosis. Frequently, the phrase has a religious connotation and is used to describe a supernatural or paranormal healing.

Do physicians believe in medical miracles? The answers are diverse.

“I have no doubt that extraordinary outcomes happen where patients who are overwhelmingly expected not to survive, do,” says Eric Beam, MD, a hospitalist based in San Diego. “That’s one of the reasons we choose our words very carefully in our conversations with patients and their families and remember that nothing is 0%, and nothing is 100%. But doctors tend to treat situations that are 99.9% as absolute. I don’t think you can practice medicine with the hope or expectation that every case you see has the potential to beat the odds – or be a medical miracle.”
 

Disappearing cancer hailed as ‘miracle’

In 2003, physicians projected that Joseph Rick, 40, had just a few months to live. His mucosal melanoma had spread throughout his body, progressing even after several surgeries, radiation therapy, and a combination of chemotherapy agents, recalled Antoni Ribas, MD, PhD, an oncologist and director of the tumor immunology program at Jonsson Comprehensive Cancer Center in Los Angeles.

Mr. Rick’s melanoma had spread to his intestines with traces on his stomach and bladder. Tumors were present on his liver, lungs, and pancreas. Rick bought a grave and prepared for the worst, he recounted in a Cancer Research Institute video. But his fate took a turn when he enrolled in an experimental drug trial in December 2003. The phase 1 trial was for a new immune modulating antibody, called an anti–CTLA-4 antibody, said Dr. Ribas, who conducted the trial. 

Over the next few weeks and months, all areas of Rick’s melanoma metastases disappeared. By 2009, he was in remission. He has lived the rest of his life with no evidence of melanoma, according to Dr. Ribas.

Mr. Rick’s case has been referenced throughout literature and news stories as a “medical miracle” and a “cancer miracle.”

Does Dr. Ribas think the case was a medical miracle?

“The response in Joseph Rick was what happened in 10%-15% of patients who received anti-CTLA-4 therapy,” Dr. Ribas said. “These were not miracles. These patients responded because their immune system trying to attack the cancer had been stuck at the CTLA-4 checkpoint. Blocking this checkpoint allowed their immune system to proceed to attack and kill cancer cells anywhere in the body.”

The scientific basis of this therapy was work by University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center immunologist James Allison, PhD, that had been done 5 years earlier in mouse models, where giving an anti–CTLA-4 antibody to mice allowed them to reject several implanted cancers, Dr. Ribas explained. Dr. Allison received the 2018 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for this work, subsequently opening the door for what we now call “immune checkpoint blockade therapy for cancer.” Dr. Ribas added.

“We tend to call miracles good things that we do not understand how they happened,” Dr. Ribas said. “From the human observation perspective, there have been plenty of medical miracles. However, each one has a specific biological mechanism that led to improvement in a patient. In cancer treatment, early studies using the immune system resulted in occasional patients having tumor responses and long-term benefits.

“With the increased understanding of how the immune system interacts with cancers, which is based on remarkable progress in understanding how the immune system works generated over the past several decades, these ‘miracles’ become specific mechanisms leading to response to cancer, which can then be replicated in other patients.”
 

Patient defies odds after 45 minutes without heartbeat

Florida ob.gyn. Michael Fleischer, MD, had just performed a routine repeat cesarean birth, delivering a healthy baby girl. His patient, Ruby, had a history of high blood pressure but medication taken during the pregnancy had kept her levels stabilized.

In the waiting room, Dr. Fleischer informed Ruby’s large family of the good news. He was planning to head home early that day when he heard his name being called over the hospital’s loudspeaker. Ruby had stopped breathing.

“The anesthesiologist was with her and had immediately intubated her,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We checked to make sure there was no problems or bleeding from the C-section, but everything was completely fine. However, we couldn’t keep her blood pressure stable.”

Dr. Fleischer suspected the respiratory arrest was caused by either an amniotic fluid embolism or a pulmonary embolism. Intubation continued and physicians gave Ruby medication to stabilize her blood pressure. Then suddenly, Ruby’s heart stopped.

Dr. Fleischer and other doctors began compressions, which they continued for 30 minutes. They shocked Ruby with defibrillator paddles multiple times, but there was no change.

“I was already thinking, this is hopeless, there’s nothing we can do,” he said. “The writing is on the wall. She’s going to die.”

Dr. Fleischer spoke to Ruby’s family and explained the tragic turn of events. Relatives were distraught and tearfully visited Ruby to say their goodbyes. They prayed and cried. Eventually, physicians ceased compressions. Ruby had gone 45 minutes without a pulse. The EKG was still showing some irregularity, FDr. leischer said, but no rhythm. Physicians kept Ruby intubated as they waited for the background electrical activity to fade. As they watched the screen in anguish, there was suddenly a blip on the heart rate monitor. Then another and another. Within seconds, Ruby’s heart went back into sinus rhythm.

“We were in disbelief,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We did some tests and put her in the ICU, and she was fine. Usually, after doing compressions on anyone, you’d have bruising or broken ribs. She had nothing. She just woke up and said: ‘What am I doing here? Let me go see my baby.’ ”

Ruby fully recovered, and 3 days later, she went home with her newborn.

While the recovery was unbelievable, Dr. Fleischer stopped short of calling it a medical miracle. There were scientific contributors to her survival: she was immediately intubated when she stopped breathing and compressions were started as soon as her heart stopped.

However, Dr. Fleischer said the fact that lifesaving measures had ended, and Ruby revived on her own was indeed, miraculous.

“It wasn’t like we were doing compressions and brought her back,” he said. “I can scientifically explain things in my mind, except for that. That when we finally stopped and took our hands off her, that’s when something changed. That’s when she came back.”
 

How do ‘medical miracles’ impact physicians?

When Dr. Rotbart was writing his book, which includes physician essays from across the world, he was struck by how many of the events happened decades earlier.

“This is another testament to the powerful impact these experiences have on those witnessing them,” he said. “In many cases, physicians describing events occurring years ago noted that those early memories served to give them hope as they encountered new, seemingly hopeless cases in subsequent years. Some contributors wrote that the ‘miracle experience’ actually directed them in their choice of specialty and has influenced much of their professional decision-making throughout their careers. Others draw on those miraculous moments at times when they themselves feel hopeless in the face of adversity and tragedy.”

Dr. Fleischer said that, although Ruby’s story has stayed with him, his mindset or practice style didn’t necessarily change after the experience.

“I’m not sure if it’s affected me because I haven’t been in that situation again,” he said. “I’m in the middle. I would never rule out anything, but I’m not going to base how I practice on the hope for a medical miracle.”

In a recent opinion piece for the New York Times, pulmonary and critical care physician, Daniela Lamas, MD, wrote about the sometimes negative effects of miracle cases on physicians. Such experiences for instance, can lead to a greater drive to beat the odds in future cases, which can sometimes lead to false hope, protracted critical care admissions, and futile procedures. 

“After all, in most cases in the ICU, our initial prognoses are correct,” she wrote. “So there’s a risk to standing at the bedside, thinking about that one patient who made it home despite our predictions. We can give that experience too much weight in influencing our decisions and recommendations.”

Dr. Beam said unexpected outcomes – particularly in the age of COVID-19 – can certainly make physicians think differently about life-sustaining measures and when to discuss end-of-life care with family members. In his own practice, Dr. Beam has encountered unexpected COVID recoveries. Now, he generally gives extremely ill COVID patients a little more time to see if their bodies recover.

“It remains true that people who are really sick with COVID, who are on ventilated or who are requiring a lot of up respiratory support, they don’t do well on average,” he said. “But it is [also] true that there are a handful of people who get to that point and do come back to 80% or 90% of where they were. It makes you think twice.”
 

What to do when parents hope for a miracle

In his palliative care practice, Nashville, Tenn., surgeon Myrick Shinall Jr., MD, PhD, regularly encounters families and patients who wish for a medical miracle. 

“It happens pretty often from a palliative care perspective,” he said. “What I have experienced the most is a patient with a severe brain injury who we don’t believe is recoverable. The medical team is discussing with the family that it is probably time to discontinue the ventilator. In those situations, families will often talk about wanting us to continue on [our life-sustaining efforts] in the hopes that a miracle will happen.”

Dr. Shinall and Trevor Bibler, PhD, recently authored two articles about best practices for responding to patients who hope for a miracle. The first one, published in the American Journal of Bioethics, is directed toward bioethicists; the second article, in the Journal of Pain and Symptom Management, targets clinicians.

A primary takeaway from the papers is that health professionals should recognize that hope for a miracle may mean different things to different people, said Dr. Bibler, an ethicist and assistant professor at Baylor College of Medicine, Houston. Some patients may have an innocuous hope for a miracle without a religious connotation, whereas others may have a firm conviction in their idea of God, their spirituality, and a concrete vision of the miracle.

“To hear that a family or patient is hoping for a miracle, one shouldn’t assume they already know what the patient or the family might mean by that,” Dr. Bibler said. “If a patient were to say, ‘I hope for a miracle,’ you might ask: ‘What do you mean by a miracle?’ Health professionals should feel empowered to ask that question.”

Health care professionals should explore a patient’s hope for a miracle, be nonjudgmental, ask clarifying questions, restate what the patient has said, and delve into the patient’s world view on death and dying, according to Dr. Bibler’s analyses. In some cases, it may be helpful to include a chaplain or the presence of a theology outsider in discussions. 

When his patients and their families raise the subject of miracles, Dr. Shinall said he inquires what a miracle would look like in their opinion and tries to gauge how much of the assertion is a general hope compared with a firm belief. 

“I try to work with them to make sure they understand doctors’ decisions and recommendations are based on what we know and can predict from our medical experience,” he said. “And that there’s nothing we’re going to do to prevent a miracle from happening, but that that can’t be our medical plan – to wait for a miracle.”

Despite the many patients and families Dr. Shinall has encountered who hope for a miracle, he has never experienced a case that he would describe as a medical miracle, he said. 

Dr. Rotbart believes all physicians struggle with finding balance in how far to push in hope of a miracle and when to let go.

“Miracles, whether they happen to us, or we hear of them from colleagues or we read about them, should humble us as physicians,” he said. “I have come to believe that what we don’t know or don’t understand about medicine, medical miracles, or life in general, isn‘t necessarily cause for fear, and can even be reason for hope.

“Medicine has come a long way since Hippocrates’ theory of The Four Humors and The Four Temperaments, yet we still have much to learn about the workings of the human body. As physicians, we should take comfort in how much we don’t know because that allows us to share hope with our patients and, occasionally, makes medical miracles possible.”

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

It was a freezing December day, and two young brothers were playing outside near a swimming pool when the younger boy, a 3-year-old toddler, fell into the water.

The 7-year-old immediately jumped into the pool to save his brother and was able to pull the toddler to the pool steps where the boy’s head was above water. But the icy temperatures overcame the older brother and he drifted underwater.

“Despite being at the forefront of medicine, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand,” said Harley Rotbart, MD, author of “Miracles We Have Seen” (Health Communications: Deerfield Beach, Fla., 2016).

Paramedics arrived to find both boys unconscious and rushed them to the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. The younger boy regained consciousness in the ICU and recovered. The 7-year-old, however, was unresponsive and remained in a coma, said Dr. Rotbart a pediatrician and author based in Denver.

Family members stayed at the boy’s bedside and prayed. But after several weeks, the child’s condition remained unchanged. His parents began to discuss ending life support and organ donation. Then late one night, as Dr. Rotbart sat reading to the unconscious patient, the little boy squeezed his hand. In disbelief, Dr. Rotbart told all of his colleagues about the squeeze the next morning. Everyone attributed the movement to an involuntary muscle spasm, he said. After all, every test and scan showed the boy had no brain function.

But later that day, the child grasped another staff member’s hand. Shortly after that, he squeezed in response to a command. Dr. Rotbart and his staff were stunned, but cautious about feeling too much hope. 

Days later, the child opened his eyes. Then, he smiled. His parents were overjoyed. 

“When he walked out of the hospital more than 2 months after the near-drowning and his heroic rescue of his little brother, we all cheered and cried,” Dr. Rotbart wrote in his book. “We cried many times in the weeks preceding, and I still cry whenever I recall this story.”

The experience, which happened years ago when Dr. Rotbart was a trainee, has stayed with the pediatrician his entire career. 

“His awakening was seemingly impossible – and then it happened,” Dr. Rotbart said. “Despite being at the forefront of medicine and science, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand. And even when we think we understand, we are frequently proven wrong.”

For many, Dr. Rotbart’s experience raises questions about the existence of medical miracles. Although the term can have different definitions, a “medical miracle” generally refers to an unexpected recovery despite a dire prognosis. Frequently, the phrase has a religious connotation and is used to describe a supernatural or paranormal healing.

Do physicians believe in medical miracles? The answers are diverse.

“I have no doubt that extraordinary outcomes happen where patients who are overwhelmingly expected not to survive, do,” says Eric Beam, MD, a hospitalist based in San Diego. “That’s one of the reasons we choose our words very carefully in our conversations with patients and their families and remember that nothing is 0%, and nothing is 100%. But doctors tend to treat situations that are 99.9% as absolute. I don’t think you can practice medicine with the hope or expectation that every case you see has the potential to beat the odds – or be a medical miracle.”
 

Disappearing cancer hailed as ‘miracle’

In 2003, physicians projected that Joseph Rick, 40, had just a few months to live. His mucosal melanoma had spread throughout his body, progressing even after several surgeries, radiation therapy, and a combination of chemotherapy agents, recalled Antoni Ribas, MD, PhD, an oncologist and director of the tumor immunology program at Jonsson Comprehensive Cancer Center in Los Angeles.

Mr. Rick’s melanoma had spread to his intestines with traces on his stomach and bladder. Tumors were present on his liver, lungs, and pancreas. Rick bought a grave and prepared for the worst, he recounted in a Cancer Research Institute video. But his fate took a turn when he enrolled in an experimental drug trial in December 2003. The phase 1 trial was for a new immune modulating antibody, called an anti–CTLA-4 antibody, said Dr. Ribas, who conducted the trial. 

Over the next few weeks and months, all areas of Rick’s melanoma metastases disappeared. By 2009, he was in remission. He has lived the rest of his life with no evidence of melanoma, according to Dr. Ribas.

Mr. Rick’s case has been referenced throughout literature and news stories as a “medical miracle” and a “cancer miracle.”

Does Dr. Ribas think the case was a medical miracle?

“The response in Joseph Rick was what happened in 10%-15% of patients who received anti-CTLA-4 therapy,” Dr. Ribas said. “These were not miracles. These patients responded because their immune system trying to attack the cancer had been stuck at the CTLA-4 checkpoint. Blocking this checkpoint allowed their immune system to proceed to attack and kill cancer cells anywhere in the body.”

The scientific basis of this therapy was work by University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center immunologist James Allison, PhD, that had been done 5 years earlier in mouse models, where giving an anti–CTLA-4 antibody to mice allowed them to reject several implanted cancers, Dr. Ribas explained. Dr. Allison received the 2018 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for this work, subsequently opening the door for what we now call “immune checkpoint blockade therapy for cancer.” Dr. Ribas added.

“We tend to call miracles good things that we do not understand how they happened,” Dr. Ribas said. “From the human observation perspective, there have been plenty of medical miracles. However, each one has a specific biological mechanism that led to improvement in a patient. In cancer treatment, early studies using the immune system resulted in occasional patients having tumor responses and long-term benefits.

“With the increased understanding of how the immune system interacts with cancers, which is based on remarkable progress in understanding how the immune system works generated over the past several decades, these ‘miracles’ become specific mechanisms leading to response to cancer, which can then be replicated in other patients.”
 

Patient defies odds after 45 minutes without heartbeat

Florida ob.gyn. Michael Fleischer, MD, had just performed a routine repeat cesarean birth, delivering a healthy baby girl. His patient, Ruby, had a history of high blood pressure but medication taken during the pregnancy had kept her levels stabilized.

In the waiting room, Dr. Fleischer informed Ruby’s large family of the good news. He was planning to head home early that day when he heard his name being called over the hospital’s loudspeaker. Ruby had stopped breathing.

“The anesthesiologist was with her and had immediately intubated her,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We checked to make sure there was no problems or bleeding from the C-section, but everything was completely fine. However, we couldn’t keep her blood pressure stable.”

Dr. Fleischer suspected the respiratory arrest was caused by either an amniotic fluid embolism or a pulmonary embolism. Intubation continued and physicians gave Ruby medication to stabilize her blood pressure. Then suddenly, Ruby’s heart stopped.

Dr. Fleischer and other doctors began compressions, which they continued for 30 minutes. They shocked Ruby with defibrillator paddles multiple times, but there was no change.

“I was already thinking, this is hopeless, there’s nothing we can do,” he said. “The writing is on the wall. She’s going to die.”

Dr. Fleischer spoke to Ruby’s family and explained the tragic turn of events. Relatives were distraught and tearfully visited Ruby to say their goodbyes. They prayed and cried. Eventually, physicians ceased compressions. Ruby had gone 45 minutes without a pulse. The EKG was still showing some irregularity, FDr. leischer said, but no rhythm. Physicians kept Ruby intubated as they waited for the background electrical activity to fade. As they watched the screen in anguish, there was suddenly a blip on the heart rate monitor. Then another and another. Within seconds, Ruby’s heart went back into sinus rhythm.

“We were in disbelief,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We did some tests and put her in the ICU, and she was fine. Usually, after doing compressions on anyone, you’d have bruising or broken ribs. She had nothing. She just woke up and said: ‘What am I doing here? Let me go see my baby.’ ”

Ruby fully recovered, and 3 days later, she went home with her newborn.

While the recovery was unbelievable, Dr. Fleischer stopped short of calling it a medical miracle. There were scientific contributors to her survival: she was immediately intubated when she stopped breathing and compressions were started as soon as her heart stopped.

However, Dr. Fleischer said the fact that lifesaving measures had ended, and Ruby revived on her own was indeed, miraculous.

“It wasn’t like we were doing compressions and brought her back,” he said. “I can scientifically explain things in my mind, except for that. That when we finally stopped and took our hands off her, that’s when something changed. That’s when she came back.”
 

How do ‘medical miracles’ impact physicians?

When Dr. Rotbart was writing his book, which includes physician essays from across the world, he was struck by how many of the events happened decades earlier.

“This is another testament to the powerful impact these experiences have on those witnessing them,” he said. “In many cases, physicians describing events occurring years ago noted that those early memories served to give them hope as they encountered new, seemingly hopeless cases in subsequent years. Some contributors wrote that the ‘miracle experience’ actually directed them in their choice of specialty and has influenced much of their professional decision-making throughout their careers. Others draw on those miraculous moments at times when they themselves feel hopeless in the face of adversity and tragedy.”

Dr. Fleischer said that, although Ruby’s story has stayed with him, his mindset or practice style didn’t necessarily change after the experience.

“I’m not sure if it’s affected me because I haven’t been in that situation again,” he said. “I’m in the middle. I would never rule out anything, but I’m not going to base how I practice on the hope for a medical miracle.”

In a recent opinion piece for the New York Times, pulmonary and critical care physician, Daniela Lamas, MD, wrote about the sometimes negative effects of miracle cases on physicians. Such experiences for instance, can lead to a greater drive to beat the odds in future cases, which can sometimes lead to false hope, protracted critical care admissions, and futile procedures. 

“After all, in most cases in the ICU, our initial prognoses are correct,” she wrote. “So there’s a risk to standing at the bedside, thinking about that one patient who made it home despite our predictions. We can give that experience too much weight in influencing our decisions and recommendations.”

Dr. Beam said unexpected outcomes – particularly in the age of COVID-19 – can certainly make physicians think differently about life-sustaining measures and when to discuss end-of-life care with family members. In his own practice, Dr. Beam has encountered unexpected COVID recoveries. Now, he generally gives extremely ill COVID patients a little more time to see if their bodies recover.

“It remains true that people who are really sick with COVID, who are on ventilated or who are requiring a lot of up respiratory support, they don’t do well on average,” he said. “But it is [also] true that there are a handful of people who get to that point and do come back to 80% or 90% of where they were. It makes you think twice.”
 

What to do when parents hope for a miracle

In his palliative care practice, Nashville, Tenn., surgeon Myrick Shinall Jr., MD, PhD, regularly encounters families and patients who wish for a medical miracle. 

“It happens pretty often from a palliative care perspective,” he said. “What I have experienced the most is a patient with a severe brain injury who we don’t believe is recoverable. The medical team is discussing with the family that it is probably time to discontinue the ventilator. In those situations, families will often talk about wanting us to continue on [our life-sustaining efforts] in the hopes that a miracle will happen.”

Dr. Shinall and Trevor Bibler, PhD, recently authored two articles about best practices for responding to patients who hope for a miracle. The first one, published in the American Journal of Bioethics, is directed toward bioethicists; the second article, in the Journal of Pain and Symptom Management, targets clinicians.

A primary takeaway from the papers is that health professionals should recognize that hope for a miracle may mean different things to different people, said Dr. Bibler, an ethicist and assistant professor at Baylor College of Medicine, Houston. Some patients may have an innocuous hope for a miracle without a religious connotation, whereas others may have a firm conviction in their idea of God, their spirituality, and a concrete vision of the miracle.

“To hear that a family or patient is hoping for a miracle, one shouldn’t assume they already know what the patient or the family might mean by that,” Dr. Bibler said. “If a patient were to say, ‘I hope for a miracle,’ you might ask: ‘What do you mean by a miracle?’ Health professionals should feel empowered to ask that question.”

Health care professionals should explore a patient’s hope for a miracle, be nonjudgmental, ask clarifying questions, restate what the patient has said, and delve into the patient’s world view on death and dying, according to Dr. Bibler’s analyses. In some cases, it may be helpful to include a chaplain or the presence of a theology outsider in discussions. 

When his patients and their families raise the subject of miracles, Dr. Shinall said he inquires what a miracle would look like in their opinion and tries to gauge how much of the assertion is a general hope compared with a firm belief. 

“I try to work with them to make sure they understand doctors’ decisions and recommendations are based on what we know and can predict from our medical experience,” he said. “And that there’s nothing we’re going to do to prevent a miracle from happening, but that that can’t be our medical plan – to wait for a miracle.”

Despite the many patients and families Dr. Shinall has encountered who hope for a miracle, he has never experienced a case that he would describe as a medical miracle, he said. 

Dr. Rotbart believes all physicians struggle with finding balance in how far to push in hope of a miracle and when to let go.

“Miracles, whether they happen to us, or we hear of them from colleagues or we read about them, should humble us as physicians,” he said. “I have come to believe that what we don’t know or don’t understand about medicine, medical miracles, or life in general, isn‘t necessarily cause for fear, and can even be reason for hope.

“Medicine has come a long way since Hippocrates’ theory of The Four Humors and The Four Temperaments, yet we still have much to learn about the workings of the human body. As physicians, we should take comfort in how much we don’t know because that allows us to share hope with our patients and, occasionally, makes medical miracles possible.”

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

It was a freezing December day, and two young brothers were playing outside near a swimming pool when the younger boy, a 3-year-old toddler, fell into the water.

The 7-year-old immediately jumped into the pool to save his brother and was able to pull the toddler to the pool steps where the boy’s head was above water. But the icy temperatures overcame the older brother and he drifted underwater.

“Despite being at the forefront of medicine, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand,” said Harley Rotbart, MD, author of “Miracles We Have Seen” (Health Communications: Deerfield Beach, Fla., 2016).

Paramedics arrived to find both boys unconscious and rushed them to the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. The younger boy regained consciousness in the ICU and recovered. The 7-year-old, however, was unresponsive and remained in a coma, said Dr. Rotbart a pediatrician and author based in Denver.

Family members stayed at the boy’s bedside and prayed. But after several weeks, the child’s condition remained unchanged. His parents began to discuss ending life support and organ donation. Then late one night, as Dr. Rotbart sat reading to the unconscious patient, the little boy squeezed his hand. In disbelief, Dr. Rotbart told all of his colleagues about the squeeze the next morning. Everyone attributed the movement to an involuntary muscle spasm, he said. After all, every test and scan showed the boy had no brain function.

But later that day, the child grasped another staff member’s hand. Shortly after that, he squeezed in response to a command. Dr. Rotbart and his staff were stunned, but cautious about feeling too much hope. 

Days later, the child opened his eyes. Then, he smiled. His parents were overjoyed. 

“When he walked out of the hospital more than 2 months after the near-drowning and his heroic rescue of his little brother, we all cheered and cried,” Dr. Rotbart wrote in his book. “We cried many times in the weeks preceding, and I still cry whenever I recall this story.”

The experience, which happened years ago when Dr. Rotbart was a trainee, has stayed with the pediatrician his entire career. 

“His awakening was seemingly impossible – and then it happened,” Dr. Rotbart said. “Despite being at the forefront of medicine and science, what we don’t understand often exceeds what we do understand. And even when we think we understand, we are frequently proven wrong.”

For many, Dr. Rotbart’s experience raises questions about the existence of medical miracles. Although the term can have different definitions, a “medical miracle” generally refers to an unexpected recovery despite a dire prognosis. Frequently, the phrase has a religious connotation and is used to describe a supernatural or paranormal healing.

Do physicians believe in medical miracles? The answers are diverse.

“I have no doubt that extraordinary outcomes happen where patients who are overwhelmingly expected not to survive, do,” says Eric Beam, MD, a hospitalist based in San Diego. “That’s one of the reasons we choose our words very carefully in our conversations with patients and their families and remember that nothing is 0%, and nothing is 100%. But doctors tend to treat situations that are 99.9% as absolute. I don’t think you can practice medicine with the hope or expectation that every case you see has the potential to beat the odds – or be a medical miracle.”
 

Disappearing cancer hailed as ‘miracle’

In 2003, physicians projected that Joseph Rick, 40, had just a few months to live. His mucosal melanoma had spread throughout his body, progressing even after several surgeries, radiation therapy, and a combination of chemotherapy agents, recalled Antoni Ribas, MD, PhD, an oncologist and director of the tumor immunology program at Jonsson Comprehensive Cancer Center in Los Angeles.

Mr. Rick’s melanoma had spread to his intestines with traces on his stomach and bladder. Tumors were present on his liver, lungs, and pancreas. Rick bought a grave and prepared for the worst, he recounted in a Cancer Research Institute video. But his fate took a turn when he enrolled in an experimental drug trial in December 2003. The phase 1 trial was for a new immune modulating antibody, called an anti–CTLA-4 antibody, said Dr. Ribas, who conducted the trial. 

Over the next few weeks and months, all areas of Rick’s melanoma metastases disappeared. By 2009, he was in remission. He has lived the rest of his life with no evidence of melanoma, according to Dr. Ribas.

Mr. Rick’s case has been referenced throughout literature and news stories as a “medical miracle” and a “cancer miracle.”

Does Dr. Ribas think the case was a medical miracle?

“The response in Joseph Rick was what happened in 10%-15% of patients who received anti-CTLA-4 therapy,” Dr. Ribas said. “These were not miracles. These patients responded because their immune system trying to attack the cancer had been stuck at the CTLA-4 checkpoint. Blocking this checkpoint allowed their immune system to proceed to attack and kill cancer cells anywhere in the body.”

The scientific basis of this therapy was work by University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center immunologist James Allison, PhD, that had been done 5 years earlier in mouse models, where giving an anti–CTLA-4 antibody to mice allowed them to reject several implanted cancers, Dr. Ribas explained. Dr. Allison received the 2018 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for this work, subsequently opening the door for what we now call “immune checkpoint blockade therapy for cancer.” Dr. Ribas added.

“We tend to call miracles good things that we do not understand how they happened,” Dr. Ribas said. “From the human observation perspective, there have been plenty of medical miracles. However, each one has a specific biological mechanism that led to improvement in a patient. In cancer treatment, early studies using the immune system resulted in occasional patients having tumor responses and long-term benefits.

“With the increased understanding of how the immune system interacts with cancers, which is based on remarkable progress in understanding how the immune system works generated over the past several decades, these ‘miracles’ become specific mechanisms leading to response to cancer, which can then be replicated in other patients.”
 

Patient defies odds after 45 minutes without heartbeat

Florida ob.gyn. Michael Fleischer, MD, had just performed a routine repeat cesarean birth, delivering a healthy baby girl. His patient, Ruby, had a history of high blood pressure but medication taken during the pregnancy had kept her levels stabilized.

In the waiting room, Dr. Fleischer informed Ruby’s large family of the good news. He was planning to head home early that day when he heard his name being called over the hospital’s loudspeaker. Ruby had stopped breathing.

“The anesthesiologist was with her and had immediately intubated her,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We checked to make sure there was no problems or bleeding from the C-section, but everything was completely fine. However, we couldn’t keep her blood pressure stable.”

Dr. Fleischer suspected the respiratory arrest was caused by either an amniotic fluid embolism or a pulmonary embolism. Intubation continued and physicians gave Ruby medication to stabilize her blood pressure. Then suddenly, Ruby’s heart stopped.

Dr. Fleischer and other doctors began compressions, which they continued for 30 minutes. They shocked Ruby with defibrillator paddles multiple times, but there was no change.

“I was already thinking, this is hopeless, there’s nothing we can do,” he said. “The writing is on the wall. She’s going to die.”

Dr. Fleischer spoke to Ruby’s family and explained the tragic turn of events. Relatives were distraught and tearfully visited Ruby to say their goodbyes. They prayed and cried. Eventually, physicians ceased compressions. Ruby had gone 45 minutes without a pulse. The EKG was still showing some irregularity, FDr. leischer said, but no rhythm. Physicians kept Ruby intubated as they waited for the background electrical activity to fade. As they watched the screen in anguish, there was suddenly a blip on the heart rate monitor. Then another and another. Within seconds, Ruby’s heart went back into sinus rhythm.

“We were in disbelief,” Dr. Fleischer said. “We did some tests and put her in the ICU, and she was fine. Usually, after doing compressions on anyone, you’d have bruising or broken ribs. She had nothing. She just woke up and said: ‘What am I doing here? Let me go see my baby.’ ”

Ruby fully recovered, and 3 days later, she went home with her newborn.

While the recovery was unbelievable, Dr. Fleischer stopped short of calling it a medical miracle. There were scientific contributors to her survival: she was immediately intubated when she stopped breathing and compressions were started as soon as her heart stopped.

However, Dr. Fleischer said the fact that lifesaving measures had ended, and Ruby revived on her own was indeed, miraculous.

“It wasn’t like we were doing compressions and brought her back,” he said. “I can scientifically explain things in my mind, except for that. That when we finally stopped and took our hands off her, that’s when something changed. That’s when she came back.”
 

How do ‘medical miracles’ impact physicians?

When Dr. Rotbart was writing his book, which includes physician essays from across the world, he was struck by how many of the events happened decades earlier.

“This is another testament to the powerful impact these experiences have on those witnessing them,” he said. “In many cases, physicians describing events occurring years ago noted that those early memories served to give them hope as they encountered new, seemingly hopeless cases in subsequent years. Some contributors wrote that the ‘miracle experience’ actually directed them in their choice of specialty and has influenced much of their professional decision-making throughout their careers. Others draw on those miraculous moments at times when they themselves feel hopeless in the face of adversity and tragedy.”

Dr. Fleischer said that, although Ruby’s story has stayed with him, his mindset or practice style didn’t necessarily change after the experience.

“I’m not sure if it’s affected me because I haven’t been in that situation again,” he said. “I’m in the middle. I would never rule out anything, but I’m not going to base how I practice on the hope for a medical miracle.”

In a recent opinion piece for the New York Times, pulmonary and critical care physician, Daniela Lamas, MD, wrote about the sometimes negative effects of miracle cases on physicians. Such experiences for instance, can lead to a greater drive to beat the odds in future cases, which can sometimes lead to false hope, protracted critical care admissions, and futile procedures. 

“After all, in most cases in the ICU, our initial prognoses are correct,” she wrote. “So there’s a risk to standing at the bedside, thinking about that one patient who made it home despite our predictions. We can give that experience too much weight in influencing our decisions and recommendations.”

Dr. Beam said unexpected outcomes – particularly in the age of COVID-19 – can certainly make physicians think differently about life-sustaining measures and when to discuss end-of-life care with family members. In his own practice, Dr. Beam has encountered unexpected COVID recoveries. Now, he generally gives extremely ill COVID patients a little more time to see if their bodies recover.

“It remains true that people who are really sick with COVID, who are on ventilated or who are requiring a lot of up respiratory support, they don’t do well on average,” he said. “But it is [also] true that there are a handful of people who get to that point and do come back to 80% or 90% of where they were. It makes you think twice.”
 

What to do when parents hope for a miracle

In his palliative care practice, Nashville, Tenn., surgeon Myrick Shinall Jr., MD, PhD, regularly encounters families and patients who wish for a medical miracle. 

“It happens pretty often from a palliative care perspective,” he said. “What I have experienced the most is a patient with a severe brain injury who we don’t believe is recoverable. The medical team is discussing with the family that it is probably time to discontinue the ventilator. In those situations, families will often talk about wanting us to continue on [our life-sustaining efforts] in the hopes that a miracle will happen.”

Dr. Shinall and Trevor Bibler, PhD, recently authored two articles about best practices for responding to patients who hope for a miracle. The first one, published in the American Journal of Bioethics, is directed toward bioethicists; the second article, in the Journal of Pain and Symptom Management, targets clinicians.

A primary takeaway from the papers is that health professionals should recognize that hope for a miracle may mean different things to different people, said Dr. Bibler, an ethicist and assistant professor at Baylor College of Medicine, Houston. Some patients may have an innocuous hope for a miracle without a religious connotation, whereas others may have a firm conviction in their idea of God, their spirituality, and a concrete vision of the miracle.

“To hear that a family or patient is hoping for a miracle, one shouldn’t assume they already know what the patient or the family might mean by that,” Dr. Bibler said. “If a patient were to say, ‘I hope for a miracle,’ you might ask: ‘What do you mean by a miracle?’ Health professionals should feel empowered to ask that question.”

Health care professionals should explore a patient’s hope for a miracle, be nonjudgmental, ask clarifying questions, restate what the patient has said, and delve into the patient’s world view on death and dying, according to Dr. Bibler’s analyses. In some cases, it may be helpful to include a chaplain or the presence of a theology outsider in discussions. 

When his patients and their families raise the subject of miracles, Dr. Shinall said he inquires what a miracle would look like in their opinion and tries to gauge how much of the assertion is a general hope compared with a firm belief. 

“I try to work with them to make sure they understand doctors’ decisions and recommendations are based on what we know and can predict from our medical experience,” he said. “And that there’s nothing we’re going to do to prevent a miracle from happening, but that that can’t be our medical plan – to wait for a miracle.”

Despite the many patients and families Dr. Shinall has encountered who hope for a miracle, he has never experienced a case that he would describe as a medical miracle, he said. 

Dr. Rotbart believes all physicians struggle with finding balance in how far to push in hope of a miracle and when to let go.

“Miracles, whether they happen to us, or we hear of them from colleagues or we read about them, should humble us as physicians,” he said. “I have come to believe that what we don’t know or don’t understand about medicine, medical miracles, or life in general, isn‘t necessarily cause for fear, and can even be reason for hope.

“Medicine has come a long way since Hippocrates’ theory of The Four Humors and The Four Temperaments, yet we still have much to learn about the workings of the human body. As physicians, we should take comfort in how much we don’t know because that allows us to share hope with our patients and, occasionally, makes medical miracles possible.”

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

Modern efforts to monitor and improve quality in health care can trace their roots to the early 20th century. At that time, hospitals initiated mechanisms to ensure standard practices for privileging clinicians, reporting medical records and clinical data, and establishing supervised diagnostic facilities. Years later, Avedis Donabedian published “Evaluating the Quality of Medical Care,” which outlined how health care should be measured across three areas – structure, process, and outcome – and became a foundational rubric for assessing quality in medicine.

Over the ensuing decades, with the rise of professional society guidelines and increasing government involvement in the reimbursement of health care, establishing benchmarks and tracking clinical performance has become increasingly important. The passage of the Affordable Care Act subsequently established a formal, legislative mandate for assessing clinical quality tied to reimbursement. Although the context, consequences, and details for reporting have evolved, quality tracking is now firmly entrenched across clinical practice, including gastroenterology. One such mechanism for this is the Merit-Based Incentive Payment System (MIPS), which is a quality payment program (QPP) administered by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. Today, both government and private payers are assessing measurements and improvements of quality to satisfy the Quintuple Aim of achieving better health outcomes, seeking efficient cost of care, improving patient experience, improving provider experience, and enhancing equity through the reduction health inequalities.

As we transition from a fee-based to a value-based care model, several important developments relevant to the practicing gastroenterologist are likely to occur as the broader landscape of quality reporting will continue shifting. This article will outline a vision of the future in quality measurement for gastroenterology.

Gastroenterologists have relatively few specialty-specific measures on which to report. The widespread use of the adenoma detection rate for screening colonoscopy does represent a success in quality improvement because it is easily calculated, is reproducible, and has been consistently associated with clinical outcomes. But the overall measure set is limited to screening colonoscopy and the management of viral hepatitis, meaning large areas of our practice are not included in this set. Developing new metrics related to broader areas of practice will be necessary to address this current shortcoming and increase the impact of quality programs to clinicians. Indeed, a recent environmental scan performed by the Core Quality Measures Collaborative, a public-private coalition of leaders working to facilitate measure alignment, proposed future areas for development, including gastroesophageal reflux disease, nonalcoholic fatty liver disease, and medication management.

The American Gastroenterological Association, through its defined process of guideline-to-measure development, has responded by creating metrics for the management of acute pancreatitis, Lynch syndrome testing, and eradicating Helicobacter pylori in the context of gastric intestinal metaplasia; additionally, previously defined measures exist for Barrett’s esophagus and inflammatory bowel disease. Therefore, gastroenterologists can expect to report on an expanding collection of measures in the future.

However, recognizing that not all measures may be equally applicable across populations and acknowledging the importance of risk adjustment, incorporating at least an assessment for risk stratification in their future development is vital. Specifically, social risk factors will need to be accounted for during development in ways that might include risk adjustment or stratification by groups. Increasing data demonstrate that clinician performance can vary by population served and that social determinants of health (SDoH) should be incorporated into an assessment of outcomes. Risk stratification may allow clinicians or practices to report outcomes by group without jeopardy of incurring performance-based penalties. However, the ultimate goal should be reducing inequities and closing care gaps rather than inadvertently lowering the bar for clinicians who primarily treat disenfranchised populations. Eventually, any new measures aiming to be included in a QPP require formal validity testing, which can delay their inclusion in such a set. Yet including stratification in their development will provide a more robust and accurate assessment of quality of care delivered according to one’s catchment and help serve to minimize the effects of SDoH.

Another way that quality measurement may account for a more comprehensive assessment of care delivered is by bundling similarly provided services, even those across multiple specialties. Such a future model is the MIPS Value Pathways, currently under development by CMS. While the exact make-up and reporting structure remains to be determined, a group of related metrics – for example, for colonic health – would likely be grouped together. This model might include an evaluation of a practice’s performance in screening colonoscopy, Lynch testing practices, and inflammatory bowel disease management, which could also be relevant to surgeons, pathologists, and oncologists. This paradigm could serve to increase quality alignment across specialties and reinforce a commitment toward improving care delivery and fulfill a value-based mandate.

Within this framework, though, a shared challenge across specialties exists for the capture and reporting of clinical data. The financial and time costs for quality reporting are well documented, therefore any future vision of quality must address means to ease this reporting burden. Accounting for this would be especially impactful to independent as well as small- to moderate-sized practices, which must provide their own resources for collecting and reporting, with the QPP payment adjustments often insufficient to replace lost revenue or expenses. Some administrative relief has been provided by CMS during the current COVID-19 pandemic, but this focused on allowing select clinicians to avoid reporting rather than addressing the fundamental challenges presented by extracting and documenting quality measures. Moving forward, an increasing emphasis will likely be on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), such as natural language processing, combined with discrete code extraction for tracking performance. While AI has the advantage of a more hands-free approach, such a system would itself require monitoring for performance to avoid unintended consequences.

Ultimately, providing high-quality care and improving patient outcomes are universal goals, though demonstrating this aspiration by reporting on quality metrics can be challenging. Quality measurement, though, is now firmly integrated into the fabric of clinical medicine. In the future, more facets of practice will be measured, patient-level factors and cross specialty reporting will increasingly be emphasized, and administrative burdens will be reduced.

Dr. Leiman is assistant professor of medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup, and chair of the AGA’s Quality Committee. Dr. Freedman is medical director, SE Territory, Aetna/CVS Health and cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup. Dr. Anjou is a practicing clinical gastroenterologist at Connecticut GI, Torrington, and recent member of the AGA Quality Committee. The authors reported no conflicts related to this article.

Modern efforts to monitor and improve quality in health care can trace their roots to the early 20th century. At that time, hospitals initiated mechanisms to ensure standard practices for privileging clinicians, reporting medical records and clinical data, and establishing supervised diagnostic facilities. Years later, Avedis Donabedian published “Evaluating the Quality of Medical Care,” which outlined how health care should be measured across three areas – structure, process, and outcome – and became a foundational rubric for assessing quality in medicine.

Over the ensuing decades, with the rise of professional society guidelines and increasing government involvement in the reimbursement of health care, establishing benchmarks and tracking clinical performance has become increasingly important. The passage of the Affordable Care Act subsequently established a formal, legislative mandate for assessing clinical quality tied to reimbursement. Although the context, consequences, and details for reporting have evolved, quality tracking is now firmly entrenched across clinical practice, including gastroenterology. One such mechanism for this is the Merit-Based Incentive Payment System (MIPS), which is a quality payment program (QPP) administered by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. Today, both government and private payers are assessing measurements and improvements of quality to satisfy the Quintuple Aim of achieving better health outcomes, seeking efficient cost of care, improving patient experience, improving provider experience, and enhancing equity through the reduction health inequalities.

As we transition from a fee-based to a value-based care model, several important developments relevant to the practicing gastroenterologist are likely to occur as the broader landscape of quality reporting will continue shifting. This article will outline a vision of the future in quality measurement for gastroenterology.

Gastroenterologists have relatively few specialty-specific measures on which to report. The widespread use of the adenoma detection rate for screening colonoscopy does represent a success in quality improvement because it is easily calculated, is reproducible, and has been consistently associated with clinical outcomes. But the overall measure set is limited to screening colonoscopy and the management of viral hepatitis, meaning large areas of our practice are not included in this set. Developing new metrics related to broader areas of practice will be necessary to address this current shortcoming and increase the impact of quality programs to clinicians. Indeed, a recent environmental scan performed by the Core Quality Measures Collaborative, a public-private coalition of leaders working to facilitate measure alignment, proposed future areas for development, including gastroesophageal reflux disease, nonalcoholic fatty liver disease, and medication management.

The American Gastroenterological Association, through its defined process of guideline-to-measure development, has responded by creating metrics for the management of acute pancreatitis, Lynch syndrome testing, and eradicating Helicobacter pylori in the context of gastric intestinal metaplasia; additionally, previously defined measures exist for Barrett’s esophagus and inflammatory bowel disease. Therefore, gastroenterologists can expect to report on an expanding collection of measures in the future.

However, recognizing that not all measures may be equally applicable across populations and acknowledging the importance of risk adjustment, incorporating at least an assessment for risk stratification in their future development is vital. Specifically, social risk factors will need to be accounted for during development in ways that might include risk adjustment or stratification by groups. Increasing data demonstrate that clinician performance can vary by population served and that social determinants of health (SDoH) should be incorporated into an assessment of outcomes. Risk stratification may allow clinicians or practices to report outcomes by group without jeopardy of incurring performance-based penalties. However, the ultimate goal should be reducing inequities and closing care gaps rather than inadvertently lowering the bar for clinicians who primarily treat disenfranchised populations. Eventually, any new measures aiming to be included in a QPP require formal validity testing, which can delay their inclusion in such a set. Yet including stratification in their development will provide a more robust and accurate assessment of quality of care delivered according to one’s catchment and help serve to minimize the effects of SDoH.

Another way that quality measurement may account for a more comprehensive assessment of care delivered is by bundling similarly provided services, even those across multiple specialties. Such a future model is the MIPS Value Pathways, currently under development by CMS. While the exact make-up and reporting structure remains to be determined, a group of related metrics – for example, for colonic health – would likely be grouped together. This model might include an evaluation of a practice’s performance in screening colonoscopy, Lynch testing practices, and inflammatory bowel disease management, which could also be relevant to surgeons, pathologists, and oncologists. This paradigm could serve to increase quality alignment across specialties and reinforce a commitment toward improving care delivery and fulfill a value-based mandate.

Within this framework, though, a shared challenge across specialties exists for the capture and reporting of clinical data. The financial and time costs for quality reporting are well documented, therefore any future vision of quality must address means to ease this reporting burden. Accounting for this would be especially impactful to independent as well as small- to moderate-sized practices, which must provide their own resources for collecting and reporting, with the QPP payment adjustments often insufficient to replace lost revenue or expenses. Some administrative relief has been provided by CMS during the current COVID-19 pandemic, but this focused on allowing select clinicians to avoid reporting rather than addressing the fundamental challenges presented by extracting and documenting quality measures. Moving forward, an increasing emphasis will likely be on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), such as natural language processing, combined with discrete code extraction for tracking performance. While AI has the advantage of a more hands-free approach, such a system would itself require monitoring for performance to avoid unintended consequences.

Ultimately, providing high-quality care and improving patient outcomes are universal goals, though demonstrating this aspiration by reporting on quality metrics can be challenging. Quality measurement, though, is now firmly integrated into the fabric of clinical medicine. In the future, more facets of practice will be measured, patient-level factors and cross specialty reporting will increasingly be emphasized, and administrative burdens will be reduced.

Dr. Leiman is assistant professor of medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup, and chair of the AGA’s Quality Committee. Dr. Freedman is medical director, SE Territory, Aetna/CVS Health and cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup. Dr. Anjou is a practicing clinical gastroenterologist at Connecticut GI, Torrington, and recent member of the AGA Quality Committee. The authors reported no conflicts related to this article.

Modern efforts to monitor and improve quality in health care can trace their roots to the early 20th century. At that time, hospitals initiated mechanisms to ensure standard practices for privileging clinicians, reporting medical records and clinical data, and establishing supervised diagnostic facilities. Years later, Avedis Donabedian published “Evaluating the Quality of Medical Care,” which outlined how health care should be measured across three areas – structure, process, and outcome – and became a foundational rubric for assessing quality in medicine.

Over the ensuing decades, with the rise of professional society guidelines and increasing government involvement in the reimbursement of health care, establishing benchmarks and tracking clinical performance has become increasingly important. The passage of the Affordable Care Act subsequently established a formal, legislative mandate for assessing clinical quality tied to reimbursement. Although the context, consequences, and details for reporting have evolved, quality tracking is now firmly entrenched across clinical practice, including gastroenterology. One such mechanism for this is the Merit-Based Incentive Payment System (MIPS), which is a quality payment program (QPP) administered by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. Today, both government and private payers are assessing measurements and improvements of quality to satisfy the Quintuple Aim of achieving better health outcomes, seeking efficient cost of care, improving patient experience, improving provider experience, and enhancing equity through the reduction health inequalities.

As we transition from a fee-based to a value-based care model, several important developments relevant to the practicing gastroenterologist are likely to occur as the broader landscape of quality reporting will continue shifting. This article will outline a vision of the future in quality measurement for gastroenterology.

Gastroenterologists have relatively few specialty-specific measures on which to report. The widespread use of the adenoma detection rate for screening colonoscopy does represent a success in quality improvement because it is easily calculated, is reproducible, and has been consistently associated with clinical outcomes. But the overall measure set is limited to screening colonoscopy and the management of viral hepatitis, meaning large areas of our practice are not included in this set. Developing new metrics related to broader areas of practice will be necessary to address this current shortcoming and increase the impact of quality programs to clinicians. Indeed, a recent environmental scan performed by the Core Quality Measures Collaborative, a public-private coalition of leaders working to facilitate measure alignment, proposed future areas for development, including gastroesophageal reflux disease, nonalcoholic fatty liver disease, and medication management.

The American Gastroenterological Association, through its defined process of guideline-to-measure development, has responded by creating metrics for the management of acute pancreatitis, Lynch syndrome testing, and eradicating Helicobacter pylori in the context of gastric intestinal metaplasia; additionally, previously defined measures exist for Barrett’s esophagus and inflammatory bowel disease. Therefore, gastroenterologists can expect to report on an expanding collection of measures in the future.

However, recognizing that not all measures may be equally applicable across populations and acknowledging the importance of risk adjustment, incorporating at least an assessment for risk stratification in their future development is vital. Specifically, social risk factors will need to be accounted for during development in ways that might include risk adjustment or stratification by groups. Increasing data demonstrate that clinician performance can vary by population served and that social determinants of health (SDoH) should be incorporated into an assessment of outcomes. Risk stratification may allow clinicians or practices to report outcomes by group without jeopardy of incurring performance-based penalties. However, the ultimate goal should be reducing inequities and closing care gaps rather than inadvertently lowering the bar for clinicians who primarily treat disenfranchised populations. Eventually, any new measures aiming to be included in a QPP require formal validity testing, which can delay their inclusion in such a set. Yet including stratification in their development will provide a more robust and accurate assessment of quality of care delivered according to one’s catchment and help serve to minimize the effects of SDoH.

Another way that quality measurement may account for a more comprehensive assessment of care delivered is by bundling similarly provided services, even those across multiple specialties. Such a future model is the MIPS Value Pathways, currently under development by CMS. While the exact make-up and reporting structure remains to be determined, a group of related metrics – for example, for colonic health – would likely be grouped together. This model might include an evaluation of a practice’s performance in screening colonoscopy, Lynch testing practices, and inflammatory bowel disease management, which could also be relevant to surgeons, pathologists, and oncologists. This paradigm could serve to increase quality alignment across specialties and reinforce a commitment toward improving care delivery and fulfill a value-based mandate.

Within this framework, though, a shared challenge across specialties exists for the capture and reporting of clinical data. The financial and time costs for quality reporting are well documented, therefore any future vision of quality must address means to ease this reporting burden. Accounting for this would be especially impactful to independent as well as small- to moderate-sized practices, which must provide their own resources for collecting and reporting, with the QPP payment adjustments often insufficient to replace lost revenue or expenses. Some administrative relief has been provided by CMS during the current COVID-19 pandemic, but this focused on allowing select clinicians to avoid reporting rather than addressing the fundamental challenges presented by extracting and documenting quality measures. Moving forward, an increasing emphasis will likely be on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), such as natural language processing, combined with discrete code extraction for tracking performance. While AI has the advantage of a more hands-free approach, such a system would itself require monitoring for performance to avoid unintended consequences.

Ultimately, providing high-quality care and improving patient outcomes are universal goals, though demonstrating this aspiration by reporting on quality metrics can be challenging. Quality measurement, though, is now firmly integrated into the fabric of clinical medicine. In the future, more facets of practice will be measured, patient-level factors and cross specialty reporting will increasingly be emphasized, and administrative burdens will be reduced.

Dr. Leiman is assistant professor of medicine at Duke University, Durham, N.C., cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup, and chair of the AGA’s Quality Committee. Dr. Freedman is medical director, SE Territory, Aetna/CVS Health and cochair of the Core Quality Measure Collaborative Gastroenterology Workgroup. Dr. Anjou is a practicing clinical gastroenterologist at Connecticut GI, Torrington, and recent member of the AGA Quality Committee. The authors reported no conflicts related to this article.

The rapid and unprecedented expansion of virtual care in response to COVID-19 is likely to leave a permanent mark on how health care is delivered. While this expansion has been critical in the near term in caring for our patients while minimizing risk of exposure during the pandemic, it is vital to be forward thinking in considering the ongoing value of virtual care in optimizing routine patient care and in reaching our high-need patients in rural and other underserved areas. We are likely to hear more in the coming months regarding the short- and long-term impacts of virtual care expansion as we transition away from COVID and begin to consider how to maximize use of virtual care in our routine practice. Many questions remain, including defining the optimal balance between virtual and in-person care, assessing whether virtual care is a substitute for in-person care or simply additive, and understanding the impacts of virtual care on outcomes. On the latter questions, a recent study from Kaiser Permanente Northern California found that primary care visits conducted virtually resulted in modestly higher rates of follow-up outpatient office visits than initial in-person visits, but no significant difference in 7-day ED visits or hospitalizations. Whether these results are generalizable to GI patient populations is unclear.

Highlights from this month’s issue of GIHN include a study evaluating the impact of a “virtual” liver transplant center on access to liver transplant listing among patients in rural areas, another suggesting lower serologic response to COVID-19 vaccines among patients with IBD, a new AGA Clinical Practice Update: Commentary offering tips regarding surveillance after endoscopic submucosal dissection for dysplasia and early-stage GI cancer, and results from a phase 3 clinical trial demonstrating the efficacy of upadacitinib for treatment of moderate to severe ulcerative colitis.

And while the winter weather here in Michigan may suggest otherwise, DDW 2022 is just around the corner – registration opens on Jan. 19, and we look forward to the GI community coming together, whether in person in sunny San Diego or virtually at home or office, for this hybrid conference.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor in Chief

The rapid and unprecedented expansion of virtual care in response to COVID-19 is likely to leave a permanent mark on how health care is delivered. While this expansion has been critical in the near term in caring for our patients while minimizing risk of exposure during the pandemic, it is vital to be forward thinking in considering the ongoing value of virtual care in optimizing routine patient care and in reaching our high-need patients in rural and other underserved areas. We are likely to hear more in the coming months regarding the short- and long-term impacts of virtual care expansion as we transition away from COVID and begin to consider how to maximize use of virtual care in our routine practice. Many questions remain, including defining the optimal balance between virtual and in-person care, assessing whether virtual care is a substitute for in-person care or simply additive, and understanding the impacts of virtual care on outcomes. On the latter questions, a recent study from Kaiser Permanente Northern California found that primary care visits conducted virtually resulted in modestly higher rates of follow-up outpatient office visits than initial in-person visits, but no significant difference in 7-day ED visits or hospitalizations. Whether these results are generalizable to GI patient populations is unclear.

Highlights from this month’s issue of GIHN include a study evaluating the impact of a “virtual” liver transplant center on access to liver transplant listing among patients in rural areas, another suggesting lower serologic response to COVID-19 vaccines among patients with IBD, a new AGA Clinical Practice Update: Commentary offering tips regarding surveillance after endoscopic submucosal dissection for dysplasia and early-stage GI cancer, and results from a phase 3 clinical trial demonstrating the efficacy of upadacitinib for treatment of moderate to severe ulcerative colitis.

And while the winter weather here in Michigan may suggest otherwise, DDW 2022 is just around the corner – registration opens on Jan. 19, and we look forward to the GI community coming together, whether in person in sunny San Diego or virtually at home or office, for this hybrid conference.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor in Chief

The rapid and unprecedented expansion of virtual care in response to COVID-19 is likely to leave a permanent mark on how health care is delivered. While this expansion has been critical in the near term in caring for our patients while minimizing risk of exposure during the pandemic, it is vital to be forward thinking in considering the ongoing value of virtual care in optimizing routine patient care and in reaching our high-need patients in rural and other underserved areas. We are likely to hear more in the coming months regarding the short- and long-term impacts of virtual care expansion as we transition away from COVID and begin to consider how to maximize use of virtual care in our routine practice. Many questions remain, including defining the optimal balance between virtual and in-person care, assessing whether virtual care is a substitute for in-person care or simply additive, and understanding the impacts of virtual care on outcomes. On the latter questions, a recent study from Kaiser Permanente Northern California found that primary care visits conducted virtually resulted in modestly higher rates of follow-up outpatient office visits than initial in-person visits, but no significant difference in 7-day ED visits or hospitalizations. Whether these results are generalizable to GI patient populations is unclear.

Highlights from this month’s issue of GIHN include a study evaluating the impact of a “virtual” liver transplant center on access to liver transplant listing among patients in rural areas, another suggesting lower serologic response to COVID-19 vaccines among patients with IBD, a new AGA Clinical Practice Update: Commentary offering tips regarding surveillance after endoscopic submucosal dissection for dysplasia and early-stage GI cancer, and results from a phase 3 clinical trial demonstrating the efficacy of upadacitinib for treatment of moderate to severe ulcerative colitis.

And while the winter weather here in Michigan may suggest otherwise, DDW 2022 is just around the corner – registration opens on Jan. 19, and we look forward to the GI community coming together, whether in person in sunny San Diego or virtually at home or office, for this hybrid conference.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc
Editor in Chief

For this Psychiatry Leaders’ Perspectives, Awais Aftab, MD, interviewed Alan F. Schatzberg, MD. Dr. Schatzberg is the Kenneth T. Norris, Jr., Professor of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Stanford University. He served as the Chair of the Department at Stanford until 2010 and currently directs the Stanford Mood Disorders Center. He was the 136th president of the American Psychiatric Association (APA) (2009-2010). He has been an active investigator in the biology and psycho­pharmacology of depressive disorders, and has authored more than 700 publications and abstracts, including Schatzberg’s Manual of Clinical Psychopharmacology. Dr. Schatzberg is also the coeditor of the Textbook of Psychopharmacology with Charles B. Nemeroff, MD, PhD. He is a Past President of the American College of Neuropsychopharmacology (ACNP) and the Society of Biological Psychiatry, and was also the Secretary-General of the International Society of Psychoneuroendocrinology (ISPNE). In 2003, he was elected to the Institute of Medicine of the National Academy of Sciences (National Academy of Medicine). He has received numerous prestigious awards, including the 2005 Distinguished Service in Psychiatry Award from the American College of Psychiatrists, the 2005 Falcone Award from the National Alliance for Research in Schizophrenia and Affective Disorders, the 2014 Kraepelin Gold Medal from the Max Planck Institute of Psychiatry, the 2015 Gold Medal from the Society of Biological Psychiatry, the 2015 Lifetime Achievement Award of the ISPNE, the 2017 Julius Axelrod Mentorship Award from the ACNP, the 2018 Donald Klein, MD, Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology, and the 2018 Jules Marmor, MD, Award for Biopsychosocial Research from the APA.

Dr. Aftab: You have devoted much of your career to the development of psychopharmacology. What is your perspective on where the field of psychopharmacology stands at present, especially amid the widespread recognition of “treatment resistance” as a pervasive phenomenon and the scarcity of validated neurobiologic etiological models for psychiatric disorders?

Dr. Schatzberg: We have made considerable progress in the development of new classes of agents for major depression, but as we develop new agents, we still see a large percentage of patients who do not seem to demonstrate adequate responses, particularly in major depressive disorder. This has driven us to look for agents that work differently than previous ones. Although we have some new agents with seeming efficacy and newer mechanisms of action, eg, esketamine, these have largely been derived from clinical, often serendipitous, observations of antidepressant effects rather than from prospective development based on a known pharmacological effect or a biological construct of the disorder. Another intriguing and possibly effective anxiolytic and antidepressive agent is psilocybin, whose potential use is largely derived from clinicians who found it helpful in their practices in combination with psychotherapy. These 2 demonstrate how as we branch out into new territory, we find ourselves moving more and more toward drugs of known clinical risk; eg, mind-altering agents or drugs of abuse. These agents may offer risk-benefit ratios that can ultimately prove to be less attractive than what we might have wanted when we ventured on the journey. Unfortunately, there has been little dialogue about the limitations of several of these agents.

In the case of esketamine, the notion has been that the drug is a blocker of the N-methyl-d-aspartate (NMDA) glutamate receptor, suggesting it is relatively safe. However, we and others have now clearly demonstrated that the antidepressant effect in humans and the antidepressant behavioral effects in rodents are mediated via the mu opioid receptor.^1-3 This implies an abuse and dependence risk, and it is concerning that there has been much emphasis on ketamine’s effect on the NMDA glutamate receptor and not enough on this opioid effect, even though the very active enantiomer esketamine demonstrates relatively equal micromolar binding to both mu and NMDA receptors. Understanding the biology of major depression better and elucidating the key mechanisms of action of agents are both needed if we are to develop more effective and still safe agents.

One approach that has been applied recently is target validation that purports to use functional MRI to assess behavioral and cognitive effects of drugs to allow inferences regarding efficacy in specific disorders. As we have discussed in a recent paper published in the American Journal of Psychiatry,⁴ this can be quite misleading and may provide both false positive and negative information. From my perspective, these tests do not appear sensitive enough to screen for patients having a disorder, nor for assessing possible drug effects in those patients. Thus, it is unclear if they can provide answers today that we can be confident in.

Continue to: Dr. Aftab...

For this Psychiatry Leaders’ Perspectives, Awais Aftab, MD, interviewed Alan F. Schatzberg, MD. Dr. Schatzberg is the Kenneth T. Norris, Jr., Professor of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Stanford University. He served as the Chair of the Department at Stanford until 2010 and currently directs the Stanford Mood Disorders Center. He was the 136th president of the American Psychiatric Association (APA) (2009-2010). He has been an active investigator in the biology and psycho­pharmacology of depressive disorders, and has authored more than 700 publications and abstracts, including Schatzberg’s Manual of Clinical Psychopharmacology. Dr. Schatzberg is also the coeditor of the Textbook of Psychopharmacology with Charles B. Nemeroff, MD, PhD. He is a Past President of the American College of Neuropsychopharmacology (ACNP) and the Society of Biological Psychiatry, and was also the Secretary-General of the International Society of Psychoneuroendocrinology (ISPNE). In 2003, he was elected to the Institute of Medicine of the National Academy of Sciences (National Academy of Medicine). He has received numerous prestigious awards, including the 2005 Distinguished Service in Psychiatry Award from the American College of Psychiatrists, the 2005 Falcone Award from the National Alliance for Research in Schizophrenia and Affective Disorders, the 2014 Kraepelin Gold Medal from the Max Planck Institute of Psychiatry, the 2015 Gold Medal from the Society of Biological Psychiatry, the 2015 Lifetime Achievement Award of the ISPNE, the 2017 Julius Axelrod Mentorship Award from the ACNP, the 2018 Donald Klein, MD, Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology, and the 2018 Jules Marmor, MD, Award for Biopsychosocial Research from the APA.

Dr. Aftab: You have devoted much of your career to the development of psychopharmacology. What is your perspective on where the field of psychopharmacology stands at present, especially amid the widespread recognition of “treatment resistance” as a pervasive phenomenon and the scarcity of validated neurobiologic etiological models for psychiatric disorders?

Dr. Schatzberg: We have made considerable progress in the development of new classes of agents for major depression, but as we develop new agents, we still see a large percentage of patients who do not seem to demonstrate adequate responses, particularly in major depressive disorder. This has driven us to look for agents that work differently than previous ones. Although we have some new agents with seeming efficacy and newer mechanisms of action, eg, esketamine, these have largely been derived from clinical, often serendipitous, observations of antidepressant effects rather than from prospective development based on a known pharmacological effect or a biological construct of the disorder. Another intriguing and possibly effective anxiolytic and antidepressive agent is psilocybin, whose potential use is largely derived from clinicians who found it helpful in their practices in combination with psychotherapy. These 2 demonstrate how as we branch out into new territory, we find ourselves moving more and more toward drugs of known clinical risk; eg, mind-altering agents or drugs of abuse. These agents may offer risk-benefit ratios that can ultimately prove to be less attractive than what we might have wanted when we ventured on the journey. Unfortunately, there has been little dialogue about the limitations of several of these agents.

In the case of esketamine, the notion has been that the drug is a blocker of the N-methyl-d-aspartate (NMDA) glutamate receptor, suggesting it is relatively safe. However, we and others have now clearly demonstrated that the antidepressant effect in humans and the antidepressant behavioral effects in rodents are mediated via the mu opioid receptor.^1-3 This implies an abuse and dependence risk, and it is concerning that there has been much emphasis on ketamine’s effect on the NMDA glutamate receptor and not enough on this opioid effect, even though the very active enantiomer esketamine demonstrates relatively equal micromolar binding to both mu and NMDA receptors. Understanding the biology of major depression better and elucidating the key mechanisms of action of agents are both needed if we are to develop more effective and still safe agents.

One approach that has been applied recently is target validation that purports to use functional MRI to assess behavioral and cognitive effects of drugs to allow inferences regarding efficacy in specific disorders. As we have discussed in a recent paper published in the American Journal of Psychiatry,⁴ this can be quite misleading and may provide both false positive and negative information. From my perspective, these tests do not appear sensitive enough to screen for patients having a disorder, nor for assessing possible drug effects in those patients. Thus, it is unclear if they can provide answers today that we can be confident in.

Continue to: Dr. Aftab...

For this Psychiatry Leaders’ Perspectives, Awais Aftab, MD, interviewed Alan F. Schatzberg, MD. Dr. Schatzberg is the Kenneth T. Norris, Jr., Professor of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Stanford University. He served as the Chair of the Department at Stanford until 2010 and currently directs the Stanford Mood Disorders Center. He was the 136th president of the American Psychiatric Association (APA) (2009-2010). He has been an active investigator in the biology and psycho­pharmacology of depressive disorders, and has authored more than 700 publications and abstracts, including Schatzberg’s Manual of Clinical Psychopharmacology. Dr. Schatzberg is also the coeditor of the Textbook of Psychopharmacology with Charles B. Nemeroff, MD, PhD. He is a Past President of the American College of Neuropsychopharmacology (ACNP) and the Society of Biological Psychiatry, and was also the Secretary-General of the International Society of Psychoneuroendocrinology (ISPNE). In 2003, he was elected to the Institute of Medicine of the National Academy of Sciences (National Academy of Medicine). He has received numerous prestigious awards, including the 2005 Distinguished Service in Psychiatry Award from the American College of Psychiatrists, the 2005 Falcone Award from the National Alliance for Research in Schizophrenia and Affective Disorders, the 2014 Kraepelin Gold Medal from the Max Planck Institute of Psychiatry, the 2015 Gold Medal from the Society of Biological Psychiatry, the 2015 Lifetime Achievement Award of the ISPNE, the 2017 Julius Axelrod Mentorship Award from the ACNP, the 2018 Donald Klein, MD, Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology, and the 2018 Jules Marmor, MD, Award for Biopsychosocial Research from the APA.

Dr. Aftab: You have devoted much of your career to the development of psychopharmacology. What is your perspective on where the field of psychopharmacology stands at present, especially amid the widespread recognition of “treatment resistance” as a pervasive phenomenon and the scarcity of validated neurobiologic etiological models for psychiatric disorders?

Dr. Schatzberg: We have made considerable progress in the development of new classes of agents for major depression, but as we develop new agents, we still see a large percentage of patients who do not seem to demonstrate adequate responses, particularly in major depressive disorder. This has driven us to look for agents that work differently than previous ones. Although we have some new agents with seeming efficacy and newer mechanisms of action, eg, esketamine, these have largely been derived from clinical, often serendipitous, observations of antidepressant effects rather than from prospective development based on a known pharmacological effect or a biological construct of the disorder. Another intriguing and possibly effective anxiolytic and antidepressive agent is psilocybin, whose potential use is largely derived from clinicians who found it helpful in their practices in combination with psychotherapy. These 2 demonstrate how as we branch out into new territory, we find ourselves moving more and more toward drugs of known clinical risk; eg, mind-altering agents or drugs of abuse. These agents may offer risk-benefit ratios that can ultimately prove to be less attractive than what we might have wanted when we ventured on the journey. Unfortunately, there has been little dialogue about the limitations of several of these agents.

In the case of esketamine, the notion has been that the drug is a blocker of the N-methyl-d-aspartate (NMDA) glutamate receptor, suggesting it is relatively safe. However, we and others have now clearly demonstrated that the antidepressant effect in humans and the antidepressant behavioral effects in rodents are mediated via the mu opioid receptor.^1-3 This implies an abuse and dependence risk, and it is concerning that there has been much emphasis on ketamine’s effect on the NMDA glutamate receptor and not enough on this opioid effect, even though the very active enantiomer esketamine demonstrates relatively equal micromolar binding to both mu and NMDA receptors. Understanding the biology of major depression better and elucidating the key mechanisms of action of agents are both needed if we are to develop more effective and still safe agents.

One approach that has been applied recently is target validation that purports to use functional MRI to assess behavioral and cognitive effects of drugs to allow inferences regarding efficacy in specific disorders. As we have discussed in a recent paper published in the American Journal of Psychiatry,⁴ this can be quite misleading and may provide both false positive and negative information. From my perspective, these tests do not appear sensitive enough to screen for patients having a disorder, nor for assessing possible drug effects in those patients. Thus, it is unclear if they can provide answers today that we can be confident in.

Continue to: Dr. Aftab...

The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic was the biggest medical news or event of 2021, according to an overwhelming 84% of 987 of our readers who answered a recent Medscape Medical News poll. Perhaps no surprise there.

Coming in distant second, at 26%, was the new law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes. The controversial Food and Drug Administration approval of aducanumab (Aduhelm, Biogen/Eisai) to treat Alzheimer’s disease was next, cited by almost 16% when asked what they would remember most about 2021.

Coming in at 10% or less were the permanent end to the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, the JAMA deputy editor resignation over controversial comments, and an “other” option that allowed for write-in responses.

It should be noted respondents could choose up to three answers to this and other questions in this survey, except for questions about profession and specialty.
 

Exciting news in 2021

Widespread availability of COVID-19 vaccines was the No. 1 response – chosen by 85% – when asked what medical news or events excited them in 2021.

FDA clearance of a 5-minute test for early dementia was selected by 22%, followed by almost 16% citing approval in October 2021 of abemaciclib (Verzenio, Lilly) “described as the first advance for early breast cancer in 20 years.”

The resignation of JAMA editors over a podcast on race rounded out the list of exciting medical news or events – coming in fourth at 11%. A total 5% of readers chose “other” and were asked to specify what news or events excited them in 2021.
 

A frustrating year?

Medscape also asked readers what medical news or events frustrated them in 2021. A majority, 81%, chose COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal. Almost one-third, 31%, chose the effect of climate change on health worldwide.

Some of the most memorable news or events of 2021 were also selected as frustrating by readers. For example, 22% were frustrated by the law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes, followed by 19% who referred to the aducanumab approval in June. Furthermore, about 12% selected the JAMA resignations.
 

A shocking survey question

Asked what medical news or event from 2021 shocked readers, COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal was the most common answer, at 69%.

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force ruling out aspirin in people over age 60 for primary prevention of cardiovascular disease shocked 36% of respondents.

Coming in third and fourth on the survey were the two JAMA editors resigning after a podcast on race, chosen by 19%, and the demise of the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, selected by 18%.

Interestingly, almost 96% of respondents were physicians. Less than 1% were residents, physician assistants, or nurses. Respondents also represented a wide range of specialties. From a list of 29 possible specialties, including “other,” family medicine, internal medicine, and psychiatry were the most common.

For more on the year that was 2021, see the Medscape Year in Medicine 2021: News That Made a Difference slideshow. Read Medscape’s full Year in Medicine report.

Wondering what stood out most to our readers in 2020? Here is a story about the results of a similar survey 1 year ago.

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

The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic was the biggest medical news or event of 2021, according to an overwhelming 84% of 987 of our readers who answered a recent Medscape Medical News poll. Perhaps no surprise there.

Coming in distant second, at 26%, was the new law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes. The controversial Food and Drug Administration approval of aducanumab (Aduhelm, Biogen/Eisai) to treat Alzheimer’s disease was next, cited by almost 16% when asked what they would remember most about 2021.

Coming in at 10% or less were the permanent end to the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, the JAMA deputy editor resignation over controversial comments, and an “other” option that allowed for write-in responses.

It should be noted respondents could choose up to three answers to this and other questions in this survey, except for questions about profession and specialty.
 

Exciting news in 2021

Widespread availability of COVID-19 vaccines was the No. 1 response – chosen by 85% – when asked what medical news or events excited them in 2021.

FDA clearance of a 5-minute test for early dementia was selected by 22%, followed by almost 16% citing approval in October 2021 of abemaciclib (Verzenio, Lilly) “described as the first advance for early breast cancer in 20 years.”

The resignation of JAMA editors over a podcast on race rounded out the list of exciting medical news or events – coming in fourth at 11%. A total 5% of readers chose “other” and were asked to specify what news or events excited them in 2021.
 

A frustrating year?

Medscape also asked readers what medical news or events frustrated them in 2021. A majority, 81%, chose COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal. Almost one-third, 31%, chose the effect of climate change on health worldwide.

Some of the most memorable news or events of 2021 were also selected as frustrating by readers. For example, 22% were frustrated by the law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes, followed by 19% who referred to the aducanumab approval in June. Furthermore, about 12% selected the JAMA resignations.
 

A shocking survey question

Asked what medical news or event from 2021 shocked readers, COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal was the most common answer, at 69%.

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force ruling out aspirin in people over age 60 for primary prevention of cardiovascular disease shocked 36% of respondents.

Coming in third and fourth on the survey were the two JAMA editors resigning after a podcast on race, chosen by 19%, and the demise of the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, selected by 18%.

Interestingly, almost 96% of respondents were physicians. Less than 1% were residents, physician assistants, or nurses. Respondents also represented a wide range of specialties. From a list of 29 possible specialties, including “other,” family medicine, internal medicine, and psychiatry were the most common.

For more on the year that was 2021, see the Medscape Year in Medicine 2021: News That Made a Difference slideshow. Read Medscape’s full Year in Medicine report.

Wondering what stood out most to our readers in 2020? Here is a story about the results of a similar survey 1 year ago.

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

The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic was the biggest medical news or event of 2021, according to an overwhelming 84% of 987 of our readers who answered a recent Medscape Medical News poll. Perhaps no surprise there.

Coming in distant second, at 26%, was the new law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes. The controversial Food and Drug Administration approval of aducanumab (Aduhelm, Biogen/Eisai) to treat Alzheimer’s disease was next, cited by almost 16% when asked what they would remember most about 2021.

Coming in at 10% or less were the permanent end to the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, the JAMA deputy editor resignation over controversial comments, and an “other” option that allowed for write-in responses.

It should be noted respondents could choose up to three answers to this and other questions in this survey, except for questions about profession and specialty.
 

Exciting news in 2021

Widespread availability of COVID-19 vaccines was the No. 1 response – chosen by 85% – when asked what medical news or events excited them in 2021.

FDA clearance of a 5-minute test for early dementia was selected by 22%, followed by almost 16% citing approval in October 2021 of abemaciclib (Verzenio, Lilly) “described as the first advance for early breast cancer in 20 years.”

The resignation of JAMA editors over a podcast on race rounded out the list of exciting medical news or events – coming in fourth at 11%. A total 5% of readers chose “other” and were asked to specify what news or events excited them in 2021.
 

A frustrating year?

Medscape also asked readers what medical news or events frustrated them in 2021. A majority, 81%, chose COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal. Almost one-third, 31%, chose the effect of climate change on health worldwide.

Some of the most memorable news or events of 2021 were also selected as frustrating by readers. For example, 22% were frustrated by the law requiring that patients be granted electronic access to clinical notes, followed by 19% who referred to the aducanumab approval in June. Furthermore, about 12% selected the JAMA resignations.
 

A shocking survey question

Asked what medical news or event from 2021 shocked readers, COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy or refusal was the most common answer, at 69%.

The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force ruling out aspirin in people over age 60 for primary prevention of cardiovascular disease shocked 36% of respondents.

Coming in third and fourth on the survey were the two JAMA editors resigning after a podcast on race, chosen by 19%, and the demise of the Step 2 Clinical Skills test, selected by 18%.

Interestingly, almost 96% of respondents were physicians. Less than 1% were residents, physician assistants, or nurses. Respondents also represented a wide range of specialties. From a list of 29 possible specialties, including “other,” family medicine, internal medicine, and psychiatry were the most common.

For more on the year that was 2021, see the Medscape Year in Medicine 2021: News That Made a Difference slideshow. Read Medscape’s full Year in Medicine report.

Wondering what stood out most to our readers in 2020? Here is a story about the results of a similar survey 1 year ago.

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

Inpatient violence is a significant problem for psychiatric facilities because it can have serious physical and psychological consequences for both staff and patients.¹ Victimized staff can experience decreased productivity and emotional distress, while victimized patients can experience disrupted treatment and delayed discharge.¹ Twenty-five to 35% of psychiatric inpatients display violent behavior during their hospitalization.¹ A subset are extreme offenders.^1,2 This small group of violent patients accounts for the majority of inpatient violence and the most serious injuries.^1,2

Reducing inpatient violence starts with conducting a targeted violence risk assessment to identify patients who are at elevated risk of being violent. Although conducting a targeted violence risk assessment is beyond the scope of this article, here I outline practical steps that clinicians can take to reduce the risk of inpatient violence. These steps complement and overlap with those I described in “Workplace violence: Enhance your safety in outpatient settings” (Pearls, Current Psychiatry, August 2021, p. 37-38). These approaches should be customized for your setting with the possible assistance and input of legal counsel, risk management, and law enforcement.³

Identify underlying motives. Inpatient violence is often a result of 3 primary psychiatric etiologies: difficulty with impulse control, symptoms of psychosis, or predatory traits.¹ Impulsivity drives most of the violence on inpatient units, followed by predatory violence and symptoms of psychosis.¹ Once you identify the psychiatric motive, you can develop an individualized, tailored treatment plan to reduce the risk of violence. The treatment plan can include using de-escalation techniques, administering scheduled and as-needed medications to target underlying symptoms, having patients assume responsibility for their behaviors, holding patients accountable for their behaviors, and other psychosocial interventions.¹ Use seclusion and restraint only when it is the least restrictive means of providing safety.^1,4

Develop plans and policies. As you would do in an outpatient setting, assess for hazards within the inpatient unit. Plan for the possible types of violence that may occur on the unit (eg, physical violence against hospital personnel and/or other patients, verbal harassment, etc).³ Develop policies and procedures to identify, communicate, track, and document patients’ concerning behaviors (eg, posting a safety board where staff can record aggressive behaviors and other safety issues).^3,4 When developing these plans and policies, include patients by creating patient/staff workgroups to develop expectations for civil behavior that apply to both patients and staff, as well as training patients to co-lead groups dealing with accepting responsibility for their own recovery.⁵ These plans and policies should include informing patients that threats and violence will not be tolerated. Frequently review these plans and policies with patients and staff.

Provide communication and education. Maintain strong psychiatric leadership on the unit that encourages open lines of communication. Encourage staff to promptly report incidents. Frequently ask staff if they have any safety concerns, and solicit their opinions on how to reduce risks.⁴ Include discussions about safety during staff and community meetings. Communicate patients’ behaviors that are distressing or undesired (eg, threats, harassment, etc) to all unit personnel.³ Notify staff when you plan to interact with a patient who is at risk for violence or is acutely agitated.⁴ Teach staff how to recognize the nonverbal warning signs of behavior escalation and provide training on proper de-escalation and response.^3,4 Also train staff on how to develop strong therapeutic alliances with patients.¹ After a violent incident, use the postincident debriefing session to gather information that can be used to develop additional interventions and reduce the risk of subsequent violence.¹

Implement common-sense strategies. Ensure that there are adequate numbers of nursing staff during each shift.¹ Avoid overcrowded units, hallways, and common areas. Consider additional monitoring during unit transition times, such as during shift changes, meals, and medication administration.¹ Avoid excessive noise.¹ Employ one-to-one staff observation as clinically indicated.¹ Avoid taking an authoritarian stance when explaining to patients why their requests have been denied⁴; if possible, when you are unable to meet a patient’s demands, offer them choices.^1,4 If feasible, accompany patients to a calmer space where they can de-escalate.¹ Install video surveillance cameras at entrances, exits, and other strategic locations and post signs signaling their presence.³ Install panic buttons at the nursing station and other areas (eg, restrooms).³

Ensure your personal safety. As mentioned previously, do not interact with a patient who has recently been aggressive or has voiced threats without adequate staff support.⁴ During the patient encounter, leave space between you and the patient.¹ Avoid having your back to the exit of the room,^3,4 and make sure the patient is not blocking the exit and that you can leave the room quickly if needed. Don’t wear anything that could be used as a weapon against you (eg, ties or necklaces) or could impede your escape.⁴ Avoid wearing valuables that might be damaged during a “take down.”⁴ If feasible, wear an audible alarm.³

Inpatient violence is a significant problem for psychiatric facilities because it can have serious physical and psychological consequences for both staff and patients.¹ Victimized staff can experience decreased productivity and emotional distress, while victimized patients can experience disrupted treatment and delayed discharge.¹ Twenty-five to 35% of psychiatric inpatients display violent behavior during their hospitalization.¹ A subset are extreme offenders.^1,2 This small group of violent patients accounts for the majority of inpatient violence and the most serious injuries.^1,2

Reducing inpatient violence starts with conducting a targeted violence risk assessment to identify patients who are at elevated risk of being violent. Although conducting a targeted violence risk assessment is beyond the scope of this article, here I outline practical steps that clinicians can take to reduce the risk of inpatient violence. These steps complement and overlap with those I described in “Workplace violence: Enhance your safety in outpatient settings” (Pearls, Current Psychiatry, August 2021, p. 37-38). These approaches should be customized for your setting with the possible assistance and input of legal counsel, risk management, and law enforcement.³

Identify underlying motives. Inpatient violence is often a result of 3 primary psychiatric etiologies: difficulty with impulse control, symptoms of psychosis, or predatory traits.¹ Impulsivity drives most of the violence on inpatient units, followed by predatory violence and symptoms of psychosis.¹ Once you identify the psychiatric motive, you can develop an individualized, tailored treatment plan to reduce the risk of violence. The treatment plan can include using de-escalation techniques, administering scheduled and as-needed medications to target underlying symptoms, having patients assume responsibility for their behaviors, holding patients accountable for their behaviors, and other psychosocial interventions.¹ Use seclusion and restraint only when it is the least restrictive means of providing safety.^1,4

Develop plans and policies. As you would do in an outpatient setting, assess for hazards within the inpatient unit. Plan for the possible types of violence that may occur on the unit (eg, physical violence against hospital personnel and/or other patients, verbal harassment, etc).³ Develop policies and procedures to identify, communicate, track, and document patients’ concerning behaviors (eg, posting a safety board where staff can record aggressive behaviors and other safety issues).^3,4 When developing these plans and policies, include patients by creating patient/staff workgroups to develop expectations for civil behavior that apply to both patients and staff, as well as training patients to co-lead groups dealing with accepting responsibility for their own recovery.⁵ These plans and policies should include informing patients that threats and violence will not be tolerated. Frequently review these plans and policies with patients and staff.

Provide communication and education. Maintain strong psychiatric leadership on the unit that encourages open lines of communication. Encourage staff to promptly report incidents. Frequently ask staff if they have any safety concerns, and solicit their opinions on how to reduce risks.⁴ Include discussions about safety during staff and community meetings. Communicate patients’ behaviors that are distressing or undesired (eg, threats, harassment, etc) to all unit personnel.³ Notify staff when you plan to interact with a patient who is at risk for violence or is acutely agitated.⁴ Teach staff how to recognize the nonverbal warning signs of behavior escalation and provide training on proper de-escalation and response.^3,4 Also train staff on how to develop strong therapeutic alliances with patients.¹ After a violent incident, use the postincident debriefing session to gather information that can be used to develop additional interventions and reduce the risk of subsequent violence.¹

Implement common-sense strategies. Ensure that there are adequate numbers of nursing staff during each shift.¹ Avoid overcrowded units, hallways, and common areas. Consider additional monitoring during unit transition times, such as during shift changes, meals, and medication administration.¹ Avoid excessive noise.¹ Employ one-to-one staff observation as clinically indicated.¹ Avoid taking an authoritarian stance when explaining to patients why their requests have been denied⁴; if possible, when you are unable to meet a patient’s demands, offer them choices.^1,4 If feasible, accompany patients to a calmer space where they can de-escalate.¹ Install video surveillance cameras at entrances, exits, and other strategic locations and post signs signaling their presence.³ Install panic buttons at the nursing station and other areas (eg, restrooms).³

Ensure your personal safety. As mentioned previously, do not interact with a patient who has recently been aggressive or has voiced threats without adequate staff support.⁴ During the patient encounter, leave space between you and the patient.¹ Avoid having your back to the exit of the room,^3,4 and make sure the patient is not blocking the exit and that you can leave the room quickly if needed. Don’t wear anything that could be used as a weapon against you (eg, ties or necklaces) or could impede your escape.⁴ Avoid wearing valuables that might be damaged during a “take down.”⁴ If feasible, wear an audible alarm.³

Inpatient violence is a significant problem for psychiatric facilities because it can have serious physical and psychological consequences for both staff and patients.¹ Victimized staff can experience decreased productivity and emotional distress, while victimized patients can experience disrupted treatment and delayed discharge.¹ Twenty-five to 35% of psychiatric inpatients display violent behavior during their hospitalization.¹ A subset are extreme offenders.^1,2 This small group of violent patients accounts for the majority of inpatient violence and the most serious injuries.^1,2

Reducing inpatient violence starts with conducting a targeted violence risk assessment to identify patients who are at elevated risk of being violent. Although conducting a targeted violence risk assessment is beyond the scope of this article, here I outline practical steps that clinicians can take to reduce the risk of inpatient violence. These steps complement and overlap with those I described in “Workplace violence: Enhance your safety in outpatient settings” (Pearls, Current Psychiatry, August 2021, p. 37-38). These approaches should be customized for your setting with the possible assistance and input of legal counsel, risk management, and law enforcement.³

Identify underlying motives. Inpatient violence is often a result of 3 primary psychiatric etiologies: difficulty with impulse control, symptoms of psychosis, or predatory traits.¹ Impulsivity drives most of the violence on inpatient units, followed by predatory violence and symptoms of psychosis.¹ Once you identify the psychiatric motive, you can develop an individualized, tailored treatment plan to reduce the risk of violence. The treatment plan can include using de-escalation techniques, administering scheduled and as-needed medications to target underlying symptoms, having patients assume responsibility for their behaviors, holding patients accountable for their behaviors, and other psychosocial interventions.¹ Use seclusion and restraint only when it is the least restrictive means of providing safety.^1,4

Develop plans and policies. As you would do in an outpatient setting, assess for hazards within the inpatient unit. Plan for the possible types of violence that may occur on the unit (eg, physical violence against hospital personnel and/or other patients, verbal harassment, etc).³ Develop policies and procedures to identify, communicate, track, and document patients’ concerning behaviors (eg, posting a safety board where staff can record aggressive behaviors and other safety issues).^3,4 When developing these plans and policies, include patients by creating patient/staff workgroups to develop expectations for civil behavior that apply to both patients and staff, as well as training patients to co-lead groups dealing with accepting responsibility for their own recovery.⁵ These plans and policies should include informing patients that threats and violence will not be tolerated. Frequently review these plans and policies with patients and staff.

Provide communication and education. Maintain strong psychiatric leadership on the unit that encourages open lines of communication. Encourage staff to promptly report incidents. Frequently ask staff if they have any safety concerns, and solicit their opinions on how to reduce risks.⁴ Include discussions about safety during staff and community meetings. Communicate patients’ behaviors that are distressing or undesired (eg, threats, harassment, etc) to all unit personnel.³ Notify staff when you plan to interact with a patient who is at risk for violence or is acutely agitated.⁴ Teach staff how to recognize the nonverbal warning signs of behavior escalation and provide training on proper de-escalation and response.^3,4 Also train staff on how to develop strong therapeutic alliances with patients.¹ After a violent incident, use the postincident debriefing session to gather information that can be used to develop additional interventions and reduce the risk of subsequent violence.¹

Implement common-sense strategies. Ensure that there are adequate numbers of nursing staff during each shift.¹ Avoid overcrowded units, hallways, and common areas. Consider additional monitoring during unit transition times, such as during shift changes, meals, and medication administration.¹ Avoid excessive noise.¹ Employ one-to-one staff observation as clinically indicated.¹ Avoid taking an authoritarian stance when explaining to patients why their requests have been denied⁴; if possible, when you are unable to meet a patient’s demands, offer them choices.^1,4 If feasible, accompany patients to a calmer space where they can de-escalate.¹ Install video surveillance cameras at entrances, exits, and other strategic locations and post signs signaling their presence.³ Install panic buttons at the nursing station and other areas (eg, restrooms).³

Ensure your personal safety. As mentioned previously, do not interact with a patient who has recently been aggressive or has voiced threats without adequate staff support.⁴ During the patient encounter, leave space between you and the patient.¹ Avoid having your back to the exit of the room,^3,4 and make sure the patient is not blocking the exit and that you can leave the room quickly if needed. Don’t wear anything that could be used as a weapon against you (eg, ties or necklaces) or could impede your escape.⁴ Avoid wearing valuables that might be damaged during a “take down.”⁴ If feasible, wear an audible alarm.³

Perinatal mental health disorders such as perinatal depression are common complications of pregnancy¹ and cause significant disability in mothers and children.² Yet despite facing higher 12-month rates of depression than White women,³ Black and Hispanic women are less likely than White women to be diagnosed with and receive treatment for postpartum depression.⁴

In addition to leading to >800,000 deaths in the United States alone (as of mid-December 2021),⁵ COVID-19 has disrupted health care delivery, including perinatal mental health services.⁶ Emerging data also describe neuropsychiatric effects of COVID-19 on both infected and uninfected individuals.⁷ Because Black and Hispanic individuals bear a disproportionate burden of COVID-19,⁸ compared to White women, women of color stand to be more adversely impacted by the direct effects of the disease as well as by related disruptions in perinatal psychiatry services.

Reasons for perinatal health disparities are multifactorial, complex, and interrelated. Disparities, which can be seen as proportionate differences in access by members of minority groups compared with groups in the majority, are related to differences in mental health screening, health care accessibility, and decisions to initiate treatment. In this commentary, we define “women of color” as non-White women, and focus on how traditional barriers to perinatal mental health treatment in women of color are exacerbated in the era of COVID-19. We focus primarily on postpartum depression because it is the peripartum mental health disorder with the highest likelihood of uptake in screening and treatment practices; however, disparities may be present in other mental health disorders during this period.

Gaps in screening and identification

Postpartum depression is a source of mitigatable risk for mother and neonate in the peripartum period, and the topic of screening for its presence arises in educational and best practices materials for primary care, OB-GYN, and pediatric care clinicians. Despite considerable evidence demonstrating better outcomes (for mother and child) with early detection and treatment of perinatal mental health disorders, racial and ethnic disparities persist in the screening process. At baseline, Black, Asian, and American Indian and Alaska Native women are less likely than White women to be screened for depression.⁹ Research shows that screening practices differ based on type of clinic, with one study noting that patients of family physicians were more likely to be screened for perinatal depression than were patients of OB-GYNs or nursing midwives.⁹ Even after adjusting for clinic type, racial differences in screening persist, with fewer women of color screened than their White counterparts.⁹ The literature consistently shows that within the same care settings, physicians deliver less information, less supportive talk, and less evidence-based treatment to Black and Hispanic patients and patients of lower economic status.^10-12 Patient-clinician ethnic concordance is shown to positively impact the therapeutic relationship; at present, depressive symptoms are underrecognized in people of color, for whom referral to psychiatric care may be further compounded by inadequate knowledge of psychiatric resources.^10-13

Data from Medicaid programs reveal that compared to White women, Black women are less likely to attend postpartum visits, which leads to a downstream effect on the ability to identify Black women with mental health disorders during the postpartum period.¹⁴ In addition to experiencing fewer opportunities for detection, women of color are more likely to report somatic symptoms of depression, which may not be detected in routinely employed perinatal depression screening tools.¹⁵

Continue to: Disparities in accessibility and treatment...

Disparities in accessibility and treatment

Black women are more likely to present in crisis and, hence, to acute care settings, which is likely related to disparities in screening and early detection.^16,17 In a recent study investigating racial and ethnic differences in postpartum depression care, Chan et al¹⁶ found that Black women experience higher rates of hospital-based care compared with other racial groups. This study highlights the unavailability or inaccessibility of primary preventive measures to women in racial minority groups, which supports earlier studies that reported a correlation between access to care and severity of illness.¹⁶ Women in crisis may experience magnified disparities in access to high-quality care as they encounter institutional racism, potential loss of parental rights, and barriers due to insurance status.^17,18 Furthermore, access to care for patients who are members of racial minority groups is limited in settings where culturally competent practices are absent or diminished, or discriminatory procedures are implicitly accepted and prevalent.^12,19-22 The adverse impact of language constraints on accessibility of care is also well-documented, with recommendations such as ready access to interpreters to mitigate against miscommunications.²³

Black and Hispanic women also experience significant delays between the time of delivery and treatment initiation.⁴ Studies of postpartum depression detection and treatment in specialty and primary care clinics show that, even when they desire treatment, women of color are less likely than White women to be offered treatment for postpartum depression.²⁴ In terms of treatment options, research suggests women of color prefer psychotherapy over medication management.^25,26 However, studies show that White women are more likely to be referred to psychotherapy.²⁷ Research also reveals that Black and Hispanic women who are receptive to psychotropic medications have reduced rates of medication refills,⁴ which suggests that in these patients, counseling and monitoring adverse effects is suboptimal. In terms of treatment for substance use disorders (SUDs), after adjusting for maternal characteristics, Black and Hispanic women are significantly less likely to receive medication-assisted treatment (MAT) in pregnancy,²⁸ and MAT is significantly less likely to be available in neighborhoods more densely populated by individuals of color.^29,30

Several studies have explored possible explanations for discrepancies in treatment, including cultural expectations, differences in socioeconomic class, and racism. The stigma associated with psychiatric illness, misinformation about psychiatric treatments, and financial limitations have a substantial bearing on a patient’s willingness or ability to engage in psychiatric care.²⁵ Regarding SUDs, a fear of legal reprisal is likely to deter women of color from seeking care.³¹ Such fears are not unfounded; research has demonstrated that interactions with Child Protective Services are increased among women of color compared to White women in similar situations.³²

Furthermore, there is evidence that women of color receive less practical support, such as childcare, breastfeeding support, and transportation, during the postpartum period. Despite the preponderance of literature demonstrating the psychological benefits of breastfeeding,^33,34 structural and psychosocial barriers appear to disproportionately affect breastfeeding rates in Hispanic, Black, American Indian, and Native women, with Black women experiencing the lowest rates of breastfeeding overall.³⁵ Women in minority groups additionally experience disproportionate uncertainty about employment-based breastfeeding regulations.^35,36 Specifically, many low-income jobs are not covered under the Family and Medical Leave Act, and compared to White women, Black women return to work on average 2 weeks earlier to jobs that are less welcoming to breastfeeding.³⁵ In addition, insufficient education and support from health care settings and counselors play significant roles in disincentivizing women in minority groups from engaging in recommended breastfeeding and childcare practices.^37,38

Continue to: COVID-19’s influence on these disparities...

COVID-19’s influence on these disparities

The COVID-19 pandemic has disproportionately impacted individuals of color. Black communities have experienced a higher rate of COVID-19 infection and a higher rate of death attributed to COVID-19, even after adjusting for age, poverty, medical comorbidities, and epidemic duration.³⁹ The reasons for the disproportionate effects of the pandemic are complex and deeply ingrained in society.³⁹ Emerging data indicate that COVID-19 might also lead to increased levels of psychological distress, anxiety, and depression in pregnant women^33,40,41 and in Black women in particular.⁴² A survey of 913 pregnant women in Philadelphia conducted in May 2020 found significantly higher rates of anxiety and depression among Black women compared with White women, even after controlling for maternal age, gestational age, socioeconomic status, and marital status.⁴² A cross-sectional study of 163 women found that during the perinatal period, women of color were more likely than their White counterparts to experience negative changes in their mental health.⁴³ These differences are concerning because pregnant women who experience high levels of stress during the pandemic are at high risk for preterm delivery and perinatal complications.⁴⁴

Women of color may be disproportionately excluded by models of care that have become commonplace during the pandemic. Remote obstetric care became more common during the COVID-19 pandemic⁴⁵; however, Black and Hispanic patients have been less likely than White patients to use telehealth services.⁴⁶ Whether the differences are related to a lower likelihood of having a usual source of care, less access to digital resources, decreased awareness of the availability of telehealth, or less familiarity with digital technology, the common factor in all of the hypothesized reasons is structural racism.⁴⁶ This is despite the fact that pregnant Black women report higher rates of concern than their White peers regarding the quality of their prenatal care during the pandemic.⁴² In a small study that surveyed 100 women about their preference for obstetric care, a significantly higher proportion of White women preferred virtual visits, with non-White women preferring in-person visits.⁴⁷ Reasons cited for preferring virtual visits included convenience, safety with respect to viral transmission, compatibility with working from home, and less time waiting for the clinician; reasons cited for preferring in-person visits included a feeling of missing out on important parts of care, receiving less clinician attention, and having less of a connection with their clinician during virtual visits.⁴⁷ Women of color have lower rates of perinatal depression screening than their White counterparts,⁹ and less frequent telehealth visits might lead to a further reduction in the detection and treatment of depression and other mental health conditions in this population.

Along with increasing telehealth services during the pandemic, many hospitals implemented stricter visitation policies for patients, including women giving birth, with the potential for greater detrimental impact on women of color. Before the pandemic, a survey of >2,500 women found that up to 10% of Black women reported experiencing racism during hospitalization for obstetrics-related care.⁴⁸ These women also reported barriers to open and supportive communication with their clinicians.⁴⁸ A recent study by Gur et al⁴² found that pregnant Black women reported more worries about the birthing experience during the pandemic than White women. In a setting with restricted visitors, all women are at risk for having a lonelier birth experience, but women of color who are already concerned about barriers to communication and racist care practices also must contend with their lived experience of systemic inequity, barriers to communication, and concerns about frank racism, without the support and potential advocacy they may usually rely upon to get them through medical experiences. Furthermore, pregnant women with mental illness are at greater risk for pregnancy complications. Together, these data suggest that women in minority groups who are pregnant and have mental illness are particularly vulnerable and are at greater risk without social support and advocacy during hospitalization.

The postpartum period is accompanied by unique concerns in terms of breastfeeding and social support for women of color. Women in minority groups had lower breastfeeding rates before the pandemic. Several studies looked at the impact of COVID-19 and associated restrictions on breastfeeding. In the United Kingdom, women in minority groups were more likely to stop breastfeeding due to the challenges of COVID-19–related restrictions.⁴⁹ Compared with White women, these women were also more likely to report less practical support for breastfeeding during the pandemic.⁴⁹ Other factors associated with low breastfeeding rates include lower levels of education and stressful living conditions.⁴⁹ Though these factors were present before COVID-19, the pandemic has exacerbated these differences. Taken together, the evidence points to a role of long-standing structural and systemic inequity and racism in the health and wellbeing of women in minority groups.

A look towards solutions

Although perinatal mental health racial disparities predate the COVID-19 pandemic, differences in access to screening, identification, and treatment for mental health disorders place pregnant women of color and their children at heightened risk for poor health outcomes compared to their White counterparts during and after the pandemic. Despite the advent and progression of telehealth, existing race-based differences appear to have been maintained or exacerbated. The reasons for disparities are multifactorial and interrelated, and some of the outcomes perpetuate certain drivers of racism, which in turn drive continued inequity. Given the symptoms of depression, it is especially worrisome that clinicians may expect vulnerable women with illness-induced amotivation, anhedonia, and apathy to advocate for their own care.

Overall, the evidence confirms an imperative need—before, during, and after the COVID-19 pandemic—to provide education in mental health and cultural competency to clinicians such as obstetricians and pediatricians, who are more likely to have the first contact with women with perinatal depression. Health systems and government agencies also bear a responsibility to provide avenues for perinatal care clinicians to receive training and to increase access to culturally appropriate treatments through policy and structural changes.

Bottom Line

Racial disparities in perinatal mental health care persist despite widespread incorporation of telehealth into psychiatric services. Until causal factors are appropriately addressed through education, implementation, and structural changes, the benefits that have accompanied expanded psychiatric services via telehealth may only serve to exacerbate these differences.

Perinatal mental health disorders such as perinatal depression are common complications of pregnancy¹ and cause significant disability in mothers and children.² Yet despite facing higher 12-month rates of depression than White women,³ Black and Hispanic women are less likely than White women to be diagnosed with and receive treatment for postpartum depression.⁴

In addition to leading to >800,000 deaths in the United States alone (as of mid-December 2021),⁵ COVID-19 has disrupted health care delivery, including perinatal mental health services.⁶ Emerging data also describe neuropsychiatric effects of COVID-19 on both infected and uninfected individuals.⁷ Because Black and Hispanic individuals bear a disproportionate burden of COVID-19,⁸ compared to White women, women of color stand to be more adversely impacted by the direct effects of the disease as well as by related disruptions in perinatal psychiatry services.

Reasons for perinatal health disparities are multifactorial, complex, and interrelated. Disparities, which can be seen as proportionate differences in access by members of minority groups compared with groups in the majority, are related to differences in mental health screening, health care accessibility, and decisions to initiate treatment. In this commentary, we define “women of color” as non-White women, and focus on how traditional barriers to perinatal mental health treatment in women of color are exacerbated in the era of COVID-19. We focus primarily on postpartum depression because it is the peripartum mental health disorder with the highest likelihood of uptake in screening and treatment practices; however, disparities may be present in other mental health disorders during this period.

Gaps in screening and identification

Postpartum depression is a source of mitigatable risk for mother and neonate in the peripartum period, and the topic of screening for its presence arises in educational and best practices materials for primary care, OB-GYN, and pediatric care clinicians. Despite considerable evidence demonstrating better outcomes (for mother and child) with early detection and treatment of perinatal mental health disorders, racial and ethnic disparities persist in the screening process. At baseline, Black, Asian, and American Indian and Alaska Native women are less likely than White women to be screened for depression.⁹ Research shows that screening practices differ based on type of clinic, with one study noting that patients of family physicians were more likely to be screened for perinatal depression than were patients of OB-GYNs or nursing midwives.⁹ Even after adjusting for clinic type, racial differences in screening persist, with fewer women of color screened than their White counterparts.⁹ The literature consistently shows that within the same care settings, physicians deliver less information, less supportive talk, and less evidence-based treatment to Black and Hispanic patients and patients of lower economic status.^10-12 Patient-clinician ethnic concordance is shown to positively impact the therapeutic relationship; at present, depressive symptoms are underrecognized in people of color, for whom referral to psychiatric care may be further compounded by inadequate knowledge of psychiatric resources.^10-13

Data from Medicaid programs reveal that compared to White women, Black women are less likely to attend postpartum visits, which leads to a downstream effect on the ability to identify Black women with mental health disorders during the postpartum period.¹⁴ In addition to experiencing fewer opportunities for detection, women of color are more likely to report somatic symptoms of depression, which may not be detected in routinely employed perinatal depression screening tools.¹⁵

Continue to: Disparities in accessibility and treatment...

Disparities in accessibility and treatment

Black women are more likely to present in crisis and, hence, to acute care settings, which is likely related to disparities in screening and early detection.^16,17 In a recent study investigating racial and ethnic differences in postpartum depression care, Chan et al¹⁶ found that Black women experience higher rates of hospital-based care compared with other racial groups. This study highlights the unavailability or inaccessibility of primary preventive measures to women in racial minority groups, which supports earlier studies that reported a correlation between access to care and severity of illness.¹⁶ Women in crisis may experience magnified disparities in access to high-quality care as they encounter institutional racism, potential loss of parental rights, and barriers due to insurance status.^17,18 Furthermore, access to care for patients who are members of racial minority groups is limited in settings where culturally competent practices are absent or diminished, or discriminatory procedures are implicitly accepted and prevalent.^12,19-22 The adverse impact of language constraints on accessibility of care is also well-documented, with recommendations such as ready access to interpreters to mitigate against miscommunications.²³

Black and Hispanic women also experience significant delays between the time of delivery and treatment initiation.⁴ Studies of postpartum depression detection and treatment in specialty and primary care clinics show that, even when they desire treatment, women of color are less likely than White women to be offered treatment for postpartum depression.²⁴ In terms of treatment options, research suggests women of color prefer psychotherapy over medication management.^25,26 However, studies show that White women are more likely to be referred to psychotherapy.²⁷ Research also reveals that Black and Hispanic women who are receptive to psychotropic medications have reduced rates of medication refills,⁴ which suggests that in these patients, counseling and monitoring adverse effects is suboptimal. In terms of treatment for substance use disorders (SUDs), after adjusting for maternal characteristics, Black and Hispanic women are significantly less likely to receive medication-assisted treatment (MAT) in pregnancy,²⁸ and MAT is significantly less likely to be available in neighborhoods more densely populated by individuals of color.^29,30

Several studies have explored possible explanations for discrepancies in treatment, including cultural expectations, differences in socioeconomic class, and racism. The stigma associated with psychiatric illness, misinformation about psychiatric treatments, and financial limitations have a substantial bearing on a patient’s willingness or ability to engage in psychiatric care.²⁵ Regarding SUDs, a fear of legal reprisal is likely to deter women of color from seeking care.³¹ Such fears are not unfounded; research has demonstrated that interactions with Child Protective Services are increased among women of color compared to White women in similar situations.³²

Furthermore, there is evidence that women of color receive less practical support, such as childcare, breastfeeding support, and transportation, during the postpartum period. Despite the preponderance of literature demonstrating the psychological benefits of breastfeeding,^33,34 structural and psychosocial barriers appear to disproportionately affect breastfeeding rates in Hispanic, Black, American Indian, and Native women, with Black women experiencing the lowest rates of breastfeeding overall.³⁵ Women in minority groups additionally experience disproportionate uncertainty about employment-based breastfeeding regulations.^35,36 Specifically, many low-income jobs are not covered under the Family and Medical Leave Act, and compared to White women, Black women return to work on average 2 weeks earlier to jobs that are less welcoming to breastfeeding.³⁵ In addition, insufficient education and support from health care settings and counselors play significant roles in disincentivizing women in minority groups from engaging in recommended breastfeeding and childcare practices.^37,38

Continue to: COVID-19’s influence on these disparities...

COVID-19’s influence on these disparities

The COVID-19 pandemic has disproportionately impacted individuals of color. Black communities have experienced a higher rate of COVID-19 infection and a higher rate of death attributed to COVID-19, even after adjusting for age, poverty, medical comorbidities, and epidemic duration.³⁹ The reasons for the disproportionate effects of the pandemic are complex and deeply ingrained in society.³⁹ Emerging data indicate that COVID-19 might also lead to increased levels of psychological distress, anxiety, and depression in pregnant women^33,40,41 and in Black women in particular.⁴² A survey of 913 pregnant women in Philadelphia conducted in May 2020 found significantly higher rates of anxiety and depression among Black women compared with White women, even after controlling for maternal age, gestational age, socioeconomic status, and marital status.⁴² A cross-sectional study of 163 women found that during the perinatal period, women of color were more likely than their White counterparts to experience negative changes in their mental health.⁴³ These differences are concerning because pregnant women who experience high levels of stress during the pandemic are at high risk for preterm delivery and perinatal complications.⁴⁴

Women of color may be disproportionately excluded by models of care that have become commonplace during the pandemic. Remote obstetric care became more common during the COVID-19 pandemic⁴⁵; however, Black and Hispanic patients have been less likely than White patients to use telehealth services.⁴⁶ Whether the differences are related to a lower likelihood of having a usual source of care, less access to digital resources, decreased awareness of the availability of telehealth, or less familiarity with digital technology, the common factor in all of the hypothesized reasons is structural racism.⁴⁶ This is despite the fact that pregnant Black women report higher rates of concern than their White peers regarding the quality of their prenatal care during the pandemic.⁴² In a small study that surveyed 100 women about their preference for obstetric care, a significantly higher proportion of White women preferred virtual visits, with non-White women preferring in-person visits.⁴⁷ Reasons cited for preferring virtual visits included convenience, safety with respect to viral transmission, compatibility with working from home, and less time waiting for the clinician; reasons cited for preferring in-person visits included a feeling of missing out on important parts of care, receiving less clinician attention, and having less of a connection with their clinician during virtual visits.⁴⁷ Women of color have lower rates of perinatal depression screening than their White counterparts,⁹ and less frequent telehealth visits might lead to a further reduction in the detection and treatment of depression and other mental health conditions in this population.

Along with increasing telehealth services during the pandemic, many hospitals implemented stricter visitation policies for patients, including women giving birth, with the potential for greater detrimental impact on women of color. Before the pandemic, a survey of >2,500 women found that up to 10% of Black women reported experiencing racism during hospitalization for obstetrics-related care.⁴⁸ These women also reported barriers to open and supportive communication with their clinicians.⁴⁸ A recent study by Gur et al⁴² found that pregnant Black women reported more worries about the birthing experience during the pandemic than White women. In a setting with restricted visitors, all women are at risk for having a lonelier birth experience, but women of color who are already concerned about barriers to communication and racist care practices also must contend with their lived experience of systemic inequity, barriers to communication, and concerns about frank racism, without the support and potential advocacy they may usually rely upon to get them through medical experiences. Furthermore, pregnant women with mental illness are at greater risk for pregnancy complications. Together, these data suggest that women in minority groups who are pregnant and have mental illness are particularly vulnerable and are at greater risk without social support and advocacy during hospitalization.

The postpartum period is accompanied by unique concerns in terms of breastfeeding and social support for women of color. Women in minority groups had lower breastfeeding rates before the pandemic. Several studies looked at the impact of COVID-19 and associated restrictions on breastfeeding. In the United Kingdom, women in minority groups were more likely to stop breastfeeding due to the challenges of COVID-19–related restrictions.⁴⁹ Compared with White women, these women were also more likely to report less practical support for breastfeeding during the pandemic.⁴⁹ Other factors associated with low breastfeeding rates include lower levels of education and stressful living conditions.⁴⁹ Though these factors were present before COVID-19, the pandemic has exacerbated these differences. Taken together, the evidence points to a role of long-standing structural and systemic inequity and racism in the health and wellbeing of women in minority groups.

A look towards solutions

Although perinatal mental health racial disparities predate the COVID-19 pandemic, differences in access to screening, identification, and treatment for mental health disorders place pregnant women of color and their children at heightened risk for poor health outcomes compared to their White counterparts during and after the pandemic. Despite the advent and progression of telehealth, existing race-based differences appear to have been maintained or exacerbated. The reasons for disparities are multifactorial and interrelated, and some of the outcomes perpetuate certain drivers of racism, which in turn drive continued inequity. Given the symptoms of depression, it is especially worrisome that clinicians may expect vulnerable women with illness-induced amotivation, anhedonia, and apathy to advocate for their own care.

Overall, the evidence confirms an imperative need—before, during, and after the COVID-19 pandemic—to provide education in mental health and cultural competency to clinicians such as obstetricians and pediatricians, who are more likely to have the first contact with women with perinatal depression. Health systems and government agencies also bear a responsibility to provide avenues for perinatal care clinicians to receive training and to increase access to culturally appropriate treatments through policy and structural changes.

Bottom Line

Racial disparities in perinatal mental health care persist despite widespread incorporation of telehealth into psychiatric services. Until causal factors are appropriately addressed through education, implementation, and structural changes, the benefits that have accompanied expanded psychiatric services via telehealth may only serve to exacerbate these differences.

Perinatal mental health disorders such as perinatal depression are common complications of pregnancy¹ and cause significant disability in mothers and children.² Yet despite facing higher 12-month rates of depression than White women,³ Black and Hispanic women are less likely than White women to be diagnosed with and receive treatment for postpartum depression.⁴

In addition to leading to >800,000 deaths in the United States alone (as of mid-December 2021),⁵ COVID-19 has disrupted health care delivery, including perinatal mental health services.⁶ Emerging data also describe neuropsychiatric effects of COVID-19 on both infected and uninfected individuals.⁷ Because Black and Hispanic individuals bear a disproportionate burden of COVID-19,⁸ compared to White women, women of color stand to be more adversely impacted by the direct effects of the disease as well as by related disruptions in perinatal psychiatry services.

Reasons for perinatal health disparities are multifactorial, complex, and interrelated. Disparities, which can be seen as proportionate differences in access by members of minority groups compared with groups in the majority, are related to differences in mental health screening, health care accessibility, and decisions to initiate treatment. In this commentary, we define “women of color” as non-White women, and focus on how traditional barriers to perinatal mental health treatment in women of color are exacerbated in the era of COVID-19. We focus primarily on postpartum depression because it is the peripartum mental health disorder with the highest likelihood of uptake in screening and treatment practices; however, disparities may be present in other mental health disorders during this period.

Gaps in screening and identification

Postpartum depression is a source of mitigatable risk for mother and neonate in the peripartum period, and the topic of screening for its presence arises in educational and best practices materials for primary care, OB-GYN, and pediatric care clinicians. Despite considerable evidence demonstrating better outcomes (for mother and child) with early detection and treatment of perinatal mental health disorders, racial and ethnic disparities persist in the screening process. At baseline, Black, Asian, and American Indian and Alaska Native women are less likely than White women to be screened for depression.⁹ Research shows that screening practices differ based on type of clinic, with one study noting that patients of family physicians were more likely to be screened for perinatal depression than were patients of OB-GYNs or nursing midwives.⁹ Even after adjusting for clinic type, racial differences in screening persist, with fewer women of color screened than their White counterparts.⁹ The literature consistently shows that within the same care settings, physicians deliver less information, less supportive talk, and less evidence-based treatment to Black and Hispanic patients and patients of lower economic status.^10-12 Patient-clinician ethnic concordance is shown to positively impact the therapeutic relationship; at present, depressive symptoms are underrecognized in people of color, for whom referral to psychiatric care may be further compounded by inadequate knowledge of psychiatric resources.^10-13

Data from Medicaid programs reveal that compared to White women, Black women are less likely to attend postpartum visits, which leads to a downstream effect on the ability to identify Black women with mental health disorders during the postpartum period.¹⁴ In addition to experiencing fewer opportunities for detection, women of color are more likely to report somatic symptoms of depression, which may not be detected in routinely employed perinatal depression screening tools.¹⁵

Continue to: Disparities in accessibility and treatment...

Disparities in accessibility and treatment

Black women are more likely to present in crisis and, hence, to acute care settings, which is likely related to disparities in screening and early detection.^16,17 In a recent study investigating racial and ethnic differences in postpartum depression care, Chan et al¹⁶ found that Black women experience higher rates of hospital-based care compared with other racial groups. This study highlights the unavailability or inaccessibility of primary preventive measures to women in racial minority groups, which supports earlier studies that reported a correlation between access to care and severity of illness.¹⁶ Women in crisis may experience magnified disparities in access to high-quality care as they encounter institutional racism, potential loss of parental rights, and barriers due to insurance status.^17,18 Furthermore, access to care for patients who are members of racial minority groups is limited in settings where culturally competent practices are absent or diminished, or discriminatory procedures are implicitly accepted and prevalent.^12,19-22 The adverse impact of language constraints on accessibility of care is also well-documented, with recommendations such as ready access to interpreters to mitigate against miscommunications.²³

Black and Hispanic women also experience significant delays between the time of delivery and treatment initiation.⁴ Studies of postpartum depression detection and treatment in specialty and primary care clinics show that, even when they desire treatment, women of color are less likely than White women to be offered treatment for postpartum depression.²⁴ In terms of treatment options, research suggests women of color prefer psychotherapy over medication management.^25,26 However, studies show that White women are more likely to be referred to psychotherapy.²⁷ Research also reveals that Black and Hispanic women who are receptive to psychotropic medications have reduced rates of medication refills,⁴ which suggests that in these patients, counseling and monitoring adverse effects is suboptimal. In terms of treatment for substance use disorders (SUDs), after adjusting for maternal characteristics, Black and Hispanic women are significantly less likely to receive medication-assisted treatment (MAT) in pregnancy,²⁸ and MAT is significantly less likely to be available in neighborhoods more densely populated by individuals of color.^29,30

Several studies have explored possible explanations for discrepancies in treatment, including cultural expectations, differences in socioeconomic class, and racism. The stigma associated with psychiatric illness, misinformation about psychiatric treatments, and financial limitations have a substantial bearing on a patient’s willingness or ability to engage in psychiatric care.²⁵ Regarding SUDs, a fear of legal reprisal is likely to deter women of color from seeking care.³¹ Such fears are not unfounded; research has demonstrated that interactions with Child Protective Services are increased among women of color compared to White women in similar situations.³²

Furthermore, there is evidence that women of color receive less practical support, such as childcare, breastfeeding support, and transportation, during the postpartum period. Despite the preponderance of literature demonstrating the psychological benefits of breastfeeding,^33,34 structural and psychosocial barriers appear to disproportionately affect breastfeeding rates in Hispanic, Black, American Indian, and Native women, with Black women experiencing the lowest rates of breastfeeding overall.³⁵ Women in minority groups additionally experience disproportionate uncertainty about employment-based breastfeeding regulations.^35,36 Specifically, many low-income jobs are not covered under the Family and Medical Leave Act, and compared to White women, Black women return to work on average 2 weeks earlier to jobs that are less welcoming to breastfeeding.³⁵ In addition, insufficient education and support from health care settings and counselors play significant roles in disincentivizing women in minority groups from engaging in recommended breastfeeding and childcare practices.^37,38

Continue to: COVID-19’s influence on these disparities...

COVID-19’s influence on these disparities

The COVID-19 pandemic has disproportionately impacted individuals of color. Black communities have experienced a higher rate of COVID-19 infection and a higher rate of death attributed to COVID-19, even after adjusting for age, poverty, medical comorbidities, and epidemic duration.³⁹ The reasons for the disproportionate effects of the pandemic are complex and deeply ingrained in society.³⁹ Emerging data indicate that COVID-19 might also lead to increased levels of psychological distress, anxiety, and depression in pregnant women^33,40,41 and in Black women in particular.⁴² A survey of 913 pregnant women in Philadelphia conducted in May 2020 found significantly higher rates of anxiety and depression among Black women compared with White women, even after controlling for maternal age, gestational age, socioeconomic status, and marital status.⁴² A cross-sectional study of 163 women found that during the perinatal period, women of color were more likely than their White counterparts to experience negative changes in their mental health.⁴³ These differences are concerning because pregnant women who experience high levels of stress during the pandemic are at high risk for preterm delivery and perinatal complications.⁴⁴

Women of color may be disproportionately excluded by models of care that have become commonplace during the pandemic. Remote obstetric care became more common during the COVID-19 pandemic⁴⁵; however, Black and Hispanic patients have been less likely than White patients to use telehealth services.⁴⁶ Whether the differences are related to a lower likelihood of having a usual source of care, less access to digital resources, decreased awareness of the availability of telehealth, or less familiarity with digital technology, the common factor in all of the hypothesized reasons is structural racism.⁴⁶ This is despite the fact that pregnant Black women report higher rates of concern than their White peers regarding the quality of their prenatal care during the pandemic.⁴² In a small study that surveyed 100 women about their preference for obstetric care, a significantly higher proportion of White women preferred virtual visits, with non-White women preferring in-person visits.⁴⁷ Reasons cited for preferring virtual visits included convenience, safety with respect to viral transmission, compatibility with working from home, and less time waiting for the clinician; reasons cited for preferring in-person visits included a feeling of missing out on important parts of care, receiving less clinician attention, and having less of a connection with their clinician during virtual visits.⁴⁷ Women of color have lower rates of perinatal depression screening than their White counterparts,⁹ and less frequent telehealth visits might lead to a further reduction in the detection and treatment of depression and other mental health conditions in this population.

Along with increasing telehealth services during the pandemic, many hospitals implemented stricter visitation policies for patients, including women giving birth, with the potential for greater detrimental impact on women of color. Before the pandemic, a survey of >2,500 women found that up to 10% of Black women reported experiencing racism during hospitalization for obstetrics-related care.⁴⁸ These women also reported barriers to open and supportive communication with their clinicians.⁴⁸ A recent study by Gur et al⁴² found that pregnant Black women reported more worries about the birthing experience during the pandemic than White women. In a setting with restricted visitors, all women are at risk for having a lonelier birth experience, but women of color who are already concerned about barriers to communication and racist care practices also must contend with their lived experience of systemic inequity, barriers to communication, and concerns about frank racism, without the support and potential advocacy they may usually rely upon to get them through medical experiences. Furthermore, pregnant women with mental illness are at greater risk for pregnancy complications. Together, these data suggest that women in minority groups who are pregnant and have mental illness are particularly vulnerable and are at greater risk without social support and advocacy during hospitalization.

The postpartum period is accompanied by unique concerns in terms of breastfeeding and social support for women of color. Women in minority groups had lower breastfeeding rates before the pandemic. Several studies looked at the impact of COVID-19 and associated restrictions on breastfeeding. In the United Kingdom, women in minority groups were more likely to stop breastfeeding due to the challenges of COVID-19–related restrictions.⁴⁹ Compared with White women, these women were also more likely to report less practical support for breastfeeding during the pandemic.⁴⁹ Other factors associated with low breastfeeding rates include lower levels of education and stressful living conditions.⁴⁹ Though these factors were present before COVID-19, the pandemic has exacerbated these differences. Taken together, the evidence points to a role of long-standing structural and systemic inequity and racism in the health and wellbeing of women in minority groups.

A look towards solutions

Although perinatal mental health racial disparities predate the COVID-19 pandemic, differences in access to screening, identification, and treatment for mental health disorders place pregnant women of color and their children at heightened risk for poor health outcomes compared to their White counterparts during and after the pandemic. Despite the advent and progression of telehealth, existing race-based differences appear to have been maintained or exacerbated. The reasons for disparities are multifactorial and interrelated, and some of the outcomes perpetuate certain drivers of racism, which in turn drive continued inequity. Given the symptoms of depression, it is especially worrisome that clinicians may expect vulnerable women with illness-induced amotivation, anhedonia, and apathy to advocate for their own care.

Overall, the evidence confirms an imperative need—before, during, and after the COVID-19 pandemic—to provide education in mental health and cultural competency to clinicians such as obstetricians and pediatricians, who are more likely to have the first contact with women with perinatal depression. Health systems and government agencies also bear a responsibility to provide avenues for perinatal care clinicians to receive training and to increase access to culturally appropriate treatments through policy and structural changes.

Bottom Line

Racial disparities in perinatal mental health care persist despite widespread incorporation of telehealth into psychiatric services. Until causal factors are appropriately addressed through education, implementation, and structural changes, the benefits that have accompanied expanded psychiatric services via telehealth may only serve to exacerbate these differences.

For uncomplicated gonorrhea in a pregnant woman, what is the most appropriate treatment?

Continue to the answer...

The current recommendation from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is a single 500-mg intramuscular dose of ceftriaxone. For the patient who is opposed to an intramuscular injection, an alternative treatment is cefixime 800 mg orally. With either of these regimens, if chlamydia infection cannot be excluded, the pregnant patient also should receive azithromycin 1,000 mg orally in a single dose. In a nonpregnant patient, doxycycline 100 mg orally twice daily for 7 days should be used to cover for concurrent chlamydia infection.

In a patient with an allergy to β-lactam antibiotics, an alternative regimen for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is intramuscular gentamicin 240 mg plus a single 2,000-mg dose of oral azithromycin. (St Cyr S, Barbee L, Workowski KA, et al. Update to CDC’s treatment guidelines for gonococcal infection, 2020. MMWR Morbid Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020;69:1911-1916.)

For uncomplicated gonorrhea in a pregnant woman, what is the most appropriate treatment?

Continue to the answer...

The current recommendation from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is a single 500-mg intramuscular dose of ceftriaxone. For the patient who is opposed to an intramuscular injection, an alternative treatment is cefixime 800 mg orally. With either of these regimens, if chlamydia infection cannot be excluded, the pregnant patient also should receive azithromycin 1,000 mg orally in a single dose. In a nonpregnant patient, doxycycline 100 mg orally twice daily for 7 days should be used to cover for concurrent chlamydia infection.

In a patient with an allergy to β-lactam antibiotics, an alternative regimen for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is intramuscular gentamicin 240 mg plus a single 2,000-mg dose of oral azithromycin. (St Cyr S, Barbee L, Workowski KA, et al. Update to CDC’s treatment guidelines for gonococcal infection, 2020. MMWR Morbid Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020;69:1911-1916.)

For uncomplicated gonorrhea in a pregnant woman, what is the most appropriate treatment?

Continue to the answer...

The current recommendation from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is a single 500-mg intramuscular dose of ceftriaxone. For the patient who is opposed to an intramuscular injection, an alternative treatment is cefixime 800 mg orally. With either of these regimens, if chlamydia infection cannot be excluded, the pregnant patient also should receive azithromycin 1,000 mg orally in a single dose. In a nonpregnant patient, doxycycline 100 mg orally twice daily for 7 days should be used to cover for concurrent chlamydia infection.

In a patient with an allergy to β-lactam antibiotics, an alternative regimen for treatment of uncomplicated gonorrhea is intramuscular gentamicin 240 mg plus a single 2,000-mg dose of oral azithromycin. (St Cyr S, Barbee L, Workowski KA, et al. Update to CDC’s treatment guidelines for gonococcal infection, 2020. MMWR Morbid Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020;69:1911-1916.)

CASE GI distress while taking clozapine

Mr. F, age 29, has a history of psychiatric hospitalizations for psychotic episodes. It took a herculean effort to get him to agree to try clozapine, to which he has experienced a modest to good response. Unfortunately, recently he has been experiencing significant upper gastrointestinal (GI) distress. He attributes this to clozapine, and asks if he can discontinue this medication.

HISTORY Nausea becomes severe

Mr. F, age 29, resides in a long-term residential setting for patients with serious mental illness who need additional support following acute hospitalization. He has treatment-refractory schizophrenia. He first developed symptoms at age 18, and experienced multiple psychotic episodes requiring psychiatric hospitalizations that lasted for months. He has had numerous antipsychotic trials and a course of electroconvulsive therapy, with limited benefit.

More recently, Mr. F’s symptoms began to stabilize on a medication regimen that includes clozapine, 350 mg/d at bedtime, and haloperidol, 2 mg/d. He has not required psychiatric hospitalization for the past year.

Within months of initiating clozapine, Mr. F starts to complain daily about symptoms of worsening abdominal pain, abdominal bloating, nausea, intermittent episodes of emesis, and heartburn. The symptoms begin when he wakes up, are worse in the morning, and persist throughout the morning. He has experienced occasional mild constipation, but no diarrhea or weight loss. There have been no major changes in his diet, addition of new medications, or significant use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs.

Mr. F’s nausea worsens over the next several weeks, to the point he begins to significantly limit how much he eats to cope with it. His GI symptoms are also impacting his mood and daily functioning.

This is not Mr. F’s first experience with significant GI distress. A few months before his first psychotic episode, Mr. F began developing vision problems, joint and abdominal pain, and a general decline in social and academic functioning. At that time, he underwent a significant workup by both GI and integrative medicine, including stool testing, upper endoscopy, and a Cyrex panel (a complementary medicine approach to exploring for specific autoimmune conditions). Results were largely within expected parameters, though a hydrogen breath test was suggestive of possible small intestine bowel overgrowth. More recently, he has been adhering to a gluten-free diet, which his family felt may help prevent some of his physical symptoms as well as mitigate some of his psychotic symptoms. He now asks if he can stop taking clozapine.

[polldaddy:11008393]

EVALUATION Establishing the correct diagnosis

Initially, Mr. F is diagnosed with gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and attempts to manage his symptoms with pharmacologic and diet-based interventions. He significantly cuts down on soda consumption, and undergoes trials of calcium carbonate, antiemetics, and a PPI. Unfortunately, no material improvements are noted, and he continued to experience significant upper GI distress, especially after meals.

The psychiatric treatment team, Mr. F, and his family seek consultation with a GI specialist, who recommends that Mr. F. undergo a nuclear medicine solid gastric emptying scintigraphy study to evaluate for gastroparesis (delayed gastric emptying).¹ Results demonstrate grade 3 gastroparesis, with 56% radiotracer retainment at 4 hours. Mr. F is relieved to finally have an explanation for his persistent GI symptoms, and discusses his treatment options with the GI consultant and psychiatry team.

Continue to: The authors’ observations...

Mr. F and his family are opposed to starting a dopamine antagonist such as metoclopramide or domperidone (the latter is not FDA-approved but is available by special application to the FDA). These are first-line treatments for gastroparesis, but Mr. F and his family do not want them because of the risk of tardive dyskinesia. This is consistent with their previously expressed concerns regarding first-generation antipsychotics, and is why Mr. F has only been treated with a very low dose of haloperidol while the clozapine was titrated. Instead, Mr. F, his family, the psychiatry treatment team, and the GI specialist agree to pursue a combination of a GI hypomotility diet—which includes frequent small meals (4 to 6 per day), ideally with low fiber, low fat, and increased fluid intake—and a trial of the second line agent for gastroparesis, erythromycin, a medication with known hepatic cytochrome P450 (CYP) drug-drug interactions that impacts the clearance of clozapine.

Shared decision making is an evidence-based approach to engaging patients in medical decision making. It allows clinicians to provide education on potential treatment options and includes a discussion of risks and benefits. It also includes an assessment of the patient’s understanding of their condition, explores attitudes towards treatment, and elicits patient values specific to the desired outcome. Even in very ill patients with schizophrenia, shared decision making has been demonstrated to increase patient perception of involvement in their own care and knowledge about their condition.² Using this framework, Mr. F and his family, as well as the GI and psychiatric teams, felt confident that the agreed-upon approach was the best one for Mr. F.

TREATMENT Erythromycin and continued clozapine

Mr. F. is started on erythromycin, 100 mg 3 times a day. Erythromycin is a prokinetic agent that acts as a motilin agonist and increases the rate of gastric emptying. The liquid formulation of the medication is a suspension typically taken in 3- to 4-week courses, with 1 week “off” to prevent tachyphylaxis.³ Compared to the tablet, the liquid suspension has higher bioavailability, allows for easier dose adjustment, and takes less time to reach peak serum concentrations, which make it the preferred formulation for gastroparesis treatment.

Per the GI consultant’s recommendation, Mr. F receives a total of 3 courses of erythromycin, with some improvement in the frequency of his nausea noted only during the third erythromycin course. His clozapine levels are closely monitored during this time, as well as symptoms of clozapine toxicity (ie, sedation, confusion, hypersalivation, seizures, myoclonic jerks), because erythromycin can directly affect clozapine levels.^4,5 Case reports suggest that when these 2 medications are taken concomitantly, erythromycin inhibits the metabolism of hepatic enzyme CYP3A4, causing increased plasma concentrations of clozapine. Before starting erythromycin, Mr. F’s clozapine levels were 809 ng/mL at 350 mg/d. During the erythromycin courses, his levels are 1,043 to 1,074 ng/mL, despite reducing clozapine to 300 mg/d. However, he does not experience any adverse effects of clozapine (including seizures), which were being monitored closely.

The authors’ observations

Clozapine is the most effective medication for treatment-refractory schizophrenia.⁶ Compared to the other second-generation antipsychotics, it is associated with a lower risk of rehospitalization and treatment discontinuation, a significant decrease of positive symptom burden, and a reduction in suicidality.^7,8 Unfortunately, clozapine use is not without significant risk. FDA black box warnings highlight severe neutropenia, myocarditis, seizures, and hypotension as potentially life-threatening adverse effects that require close monitoring.⁹

Recently, clinicians have increasingly focused on the underrecognized but well-established finding that clozapine can cause significant GI adverse effects. While constipation is a known adverse effect of other antipsychotics, a 2016 meta-analysis of 32 studies estimated that the pooled prevalence of clozapine-associated constipation was 31.2%, and showed that patients receiving clozapine were 3 times more likely to be constipated than patients receiving other antipsychotics (odds ratio 3.02, CI 1.91-4.77, P < .001, n = 11 studies).¹⁰ A 2012 review of 16 studies involving potentially lethal adverse effects of clozapine demonstrated that rates of agranulocytosis and GI hypomotility were nearly identical, but that mortality from constipation was 3.6 to 12.5 times higher than mortality from agranulocytosis.¹¹

In 2020, the FDA issued an increased warning regarding severe bowel-related complications in patients receiving clozapine, ranging in severity from mild discomfort to ileus, bowel obstruction, toxic megacolon, and death.⁹

As exemplified by Mr. F’s case, upper GI symptoms associated with clozapine also are distressing and can have a significant impact on quality of life. Dyspepsia is a common complaint in patients with chronic psychiatric illness. A study of 79 psychiatric inpatients hospitalized long-term found that 80% reported at least 1 symptom of dyspepsia.¹² There are few older studies describing the effect of clozapine on the upper GI system. We and others previously reported on significantly increased use of—not only antacids—but also H2 blockers and prokinetic agents after initiating clozapine, but sample sizes are small.^13-15 These older data and newer studies suggest that GERD is a common upper GI disorder diagnosis following clozapine initiation, perhaps reflecting a knowledge gap and infrequent use of the more complex testing required to confirm a diagnosis of GI motility disorders such as gastroparesis.

In a study of 17 patients receiving clozapine, wireless motility capsules were used to measure whole gut motility, including gastric emptying time, small bowel transit time, and colonic transit time. In 82% of patients, there was demonstrated GI hypomotility in at least 1 region, and 41% of participants exhibited delayed gastric emptying, with a cut-off time of >5 hours required for a gastroparesis diagnosis.¹⁶ This is significantly higher than the prevalence of gastroparesis observed in studies of the general community.¹⁷ The Table^18,19 summarizes the differences between GERD and gastroparesis.

OUTCOME Some improvement

Mr. F experiences limited improvement of some of his nausea symptoms during the third erythromycin cycle and returns to the gastroenterologist for a follow-up appointment. The GI specialist decides to discontinue erythromycin in view of potential drug-drug interactions and Mr. F’s elevated clozapine levels and the associated risks that might entail. Mr. F is again offered the D2 dopamine antagonist metoclopramide, but again refuses due to the risk for tardive dyskinesia. He is asked to continue the GI dysmotility diet. Mr. F finds some relief of nausea symptoms from an over-the-counter product for nausea (a nasal inhalant containing essential oils) and is advised to follow up with the GI specialist in 3 months. Shortly thereafter, he is discharged to live in a less restrictive supportive housing environment, and his follow-up psychiatric care is provided by an assertive community treatment team. Over the next several months, the dosage of clozapine is decreased to 250 mg/d. Mr. F initially experiences worsening psychiatric symptoms, but stabilizes thereafter. He then moves out of state to be closer to his family.

Bottom Line

In patients receiving clozapine, frequent nausea along with clustering of heartburn, abdominal pain, bloating, early satiety, and vomiting (especially after meals) may signal gastroparesis rather than gastroesophageal reflux disease. Such patients may require consultation with a gastroenterologist, a scintigraphy-based gastric emptying test, and treatment if gastroparesis is confirmed.
 

CASE GI distress while taking clozapine

Mr. F, age 29, has a history of psychiatric hospitalizations for psychotic episodes. It took a herculean effort to get him to agree to try clozapine, to which he has experienced a modest to good response. Unfortunately, recently he has been experiencing significant upper gastrointestinal (GI) distress. He attributes this to clozapine, and asks if he can discontinue this medication.

HISTORY Nausea becomes severe

Mr. F, age 29, resides in a long-term residential setting for patients with serious mental illness who need additional support following acute hospitalization. He has treatment-refractory schizophrenia. He first developed symptoms at age 18, and experienced multiple psychotic episodes requiring psychiatric hospitalizations that lasted for months. He has had numerous antipsychotic trials and a course of electroconvulsive therapy, with limited benefit.

More recently, Mr. F’s symptoms began to stabilize on a medication regimen that includes clozapine, 350 mg/d at bedtime, and haloperidol, 2 mg/d. He has not required psychiatric hospitalization for the past year.

Within months of initiating clozapine, Mr. F starts to complain daily about symptoms of worsening abdominal pain, abdominal bloating, nausea, intermittent episodes of emesis, and heartburn. The symptoms begin when he wakes up, are worse in the morning, and persist throughout the morning. He has experienced occasional mild constipation, but no diarrhea or weight loss. There have been no major changes in his diet, addition of new medications, or significant use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs.

Mr. F’s nausea worsens over the next several weeks, to the point he begins to significantly limit how much he eats to cope with it. His GI symptoms are also impacting his mood and daily functioning.

This is not Mr. F’s first experience with significant GI distress. A few months before his first psychotic episode, Mr. F began developing vision problems, joint and abdominal pain, and a general decline in social and academic functioning. At that time, he underwent a significant workup by both GI and integrative medicine, including stool testing, upper endoscopy, and a Cyrex panel (a complementary medicine approach to exploring for specific autoimmune conditions). Results were largely within expected parameters, though a hydrogen breath test was suggestive of possible small intestine bowel overgrowth. More recently, he has been adhering to a gluten-free diet, which his family felt may help prevent some of his physical symptoms as well as mitigate some of his psychotic symptoms. He now asks if he can stop taking clozapine.

[polldaddy:11008393]

EVALUATION Establishing the correct diagnosis

Initially, Mr. F is diagnosed with gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and attempts to manage his symptoms with pharmacologic and diet-based interventions. He significantly cuts down on soda consumption, and undergoes trials of calcium carbonate, antiemetics, and a PPI. Unfortunately, no material improvements are noted, and he continued to experience significant upper GI distress, especially after meals.

The psychiatric treatment team, Mr. F, and his family seek consultation with a GI specialist, who recommends that Mr. F. undergo a nuclear medicine solid gastric emptying scintigraphy study to evaluate for gastroparesis (delayed gastric emptying).¹ Results demonstrate grade 3 gastroparesis, with 56% radiotracer retainment at 4 hours. Mr. F is relieved to finally have an explanation for his persistent GI symptoms, and discusses his treatment options with the GI consultant and psychiatry team.

Continue to: The authors’ observations...

Mr. F and his family are opposed to starting a dopamine antagonist such as metoclopramide or domperidone (the latter is not FDA-approved but is available by special application to the FDA). These are first-line treatments for gastroparesis, but Mr. F and his family do not want them because of the risk of tardive dyskinesia. This is consistent with their previously expressed concerns regarding first-generation antipsychotics, and is why Mr. F has only been treated with a very low dose of haloperidol while the clozapine was titrated. Instead, Mr. F, his family, the psychiatry treatment team, and the GI specialist agree to pursue a combination of a GI hypomotility diet—which includes frequent small meals (4 to 6 per day), ideally with low fiber, low fat, and increased fluid intake—and a trial of the second line agent for gastroparesis, erythromycin, a medication with known hepatic cytochrome P450 (CYP) drug-drug interactions that impacts the clearance of clozapine.

Shared decision making is an evidence-based approach to engaging patients in medical decision making. It allows clinicians to provide education on potential treatment options and includes a discussion of risks and benefits. It also includes an assessment of the patient’s understanding of their condition, explores attitudes towards treatment, and elicits patient values specific to the desired outcome. Even in very ill patients with schizophrenia, shared decision making has been demonstrated to increase patient perception of involvement in their own care and knowledge about their condition.² Using this framework, Mr. F and his family, as well as the GI and psychiatric teams, felt confident that the agreed-upon approach was the best one for Mr. F.

TREATMENT Erythromycin and continued clozapine

Mr. F. is started on erythromycin, 100 mg 3 times a day. Erythromycin is a prokinetic agent that acts as a motilin agonist and increases the rate of gastric emptying. The liquid formulation of the medication is a suspension typically taken in 3- to 4-week courses, with 1 week “off” to prevent tachyphylaxis.³ Compared to the tablet, the liquid suspension has higher bioavailability, allows for easier dose adjustment, and takes less time to reach peak serum concentrations, which make it the preferred formulation for gastroparesis treatment.

Per the GI consultant’s recommendation, Mr. F receives a total of 3 courses of erythromycin, with some improvement in the frequency of his nausea noted only during the third erythromycin course. His clozapine levels are closely monitored during this time, as well as symptoms of clozapine toxicity (ie, sedation, confusion, hypersalivation, seizures, myoclonic jerks), because erythromycin can directly affect clozapine levels.^4,5 Case reports suggest that when these 2 medications are taken concomitantly, erythromycin inhibits the metabolism of hepatic enzyme CYP3A4, causing increased plasma concentrations of clozapine. Before starting erythromycin, Mr. F’s clozapine levels were 809 ng/mL at 350 mg/d. During the erythromycin courses, his levels are 1,043 to 1,074 ng/mL, despite reducing clozapine to 300 mg/d. However, he does not experience any adverse effects of clozapine (including seizures), which were being monitored closely.

The authors’ observations

Clozapine is the most effective medication for treatment-refractory schizophrenia.⁶ Compared to the other second-generation antipsychotics, it is associated with a lower risk of rehospitalization and treatment discontinuation, a significant decrease of positive symptom burden, and a reduction in suicidality.^7,8 Unfortunately, clozapine use is not without significant risk. FDA black box warnings highlight severe neutropenia, myocarditis, seizures, and hypotension as potentially life-threatening adverse effects that require close monitoring.⁹

Recently, clinicians have increasingly focused on the underrecognized but well-established finding that clozapine can cause significant GI adverse effects. While constipation is a known adverse effect of other antipsychotics, a 2016 meta-analysis of 32 studies estimated that the pooled prevalence of clozapine-associated constipation was 31.2%, and showed that patients receiving clozapine were 3 times more likely to be constipated than patients receiving other antipsychotics (odds ratio 3.02, CI 1.91-4.77, P < .001, n = 11 studies).¹⁰ A 2012 review of 16 studies involving potentially lethal adverse effects of clozapine demonstrated that rates of agranulocytosis and GI hypomotility were nearly identical, but that mortality from constipation was 3.6 to 12.5 times higher than mortality from agranulocytosis.¹¹

In 2020, the FDA issued an increased warning regarding severe bowel-related complications in patients receiving clozapine, ranging in severity from mild discomfort to ileus, bowel obstruction, toxic megacolon, and death.⁹

As exemplified by Mr. F’s case, upper GI symptoms associated with clozapine also are distressing and can have a significant impact on quality of life. Dyspepsia is a common complaint in patients with chronic psychiatric illness. A study of 79 psychiatric inpatients hospitalized long-term found that 80% reported at least 1 symptom of dyspepsia.¹² There are few older studies describing the effect of clozapine on the upper GI system. We and others previously reported on significantly increased use of—not only antacids—but also H2 blockers and prokinetic agents after initiating clozapine, but sample sizes are small.^13-15 These older data and newer studies suggest that GERD is a common upper GI disorder diagnosis following clozapine initiation, perhaps reflecting a knowledge gap and infrequent use of the more complex testing required to confirm a diagnosis of GI motility disorders such as gastroparesis.

In a study of 17 patients receiving clozapine, wireless motility capsules were used to measure whole gut motility, including gastric emptying time, small bowel transit time, and colonic transit time. In 82% of patients, there was demonstrated GI hypomotility in at least 1 region, and 41% of participants exhibited delayed gastric emptying, with a cut-off time of >5 hours required for a gastroparesis diagnosis.¹⁶ This is significantly higher than the prevalence of gastroparesis observed in studies of the general community.¹⁷ The Table^18,19 summarizes the differences between GERD and gastroparesis.

OUTCOME Some improvement

Mr. F experiences limited improvement of some of his nausea symptoms during the third erythromycin cycle and returns to the gastroenterologist for a follow-up appointment. The GI specialist decides to discontinue erythromycin in view of potential drug-drug interactions and Mr. F’s elevated clozapine levels and the associated risks that might entail. Mr. F is again offered the D2 dopamine antagonist metoclopramide, but again refuses due to the risk for tardive dyskinesia. He is asked to continue the GI dysmotility diet. Mr. F finds some relief of nausea symptoms from an over-the-counter product for nausea (a nasal inhalant containing essential oils) and is advised to follow up with the GI specialist in 3 months. Shortly thereafter, he is discharged to live in a less restrictive supportive housing environment, and his follow-up psychiatric care is provided by an assertive community treatment team. Over the next several months, the dosage of clozapine is decreased to 250 mg/d. Mr. F initially experiences worsening psychiatric symptoms, but stabilizes thereafter. He then moves out of state to be closer to his family.

Bottom Line

In patients receiving clozapine, frequent nausea along with clustering of heartburn, abdominal pain, bloating, early satiety, and vomiting (especially after meals) may signal gastroparesis rather than gastroesophageal reflux disease. Such patients may require consultation with a gastroenterologist, a scintigraphy-based gastric emptying test, and treatment if gastroparesis is confirmed.
 

CASE GI distress while taking clozapine

Mr. F, age 29, has a history of psychiatric hospitalizations for psychotic episodes. It took a herculean effort to get him to agree to try clozapine, to which he has experienced a modest to good response. Unfortunately, recently he has been experiencing significant upper gastrointestinal (GI) distress. He attributes this to clozapine, and asks if he can discontinue this medication.

HISTORY Nausea becomes severe

Mr. F, age 29, resides in a long-term residential setting for patients with serious mental illness who need additional support following acute hospitalization. He has treatment-refractory schizophrenia. He first developed symptoms at age 18, and experienced multiple psychotic episodes requiring psychiatric hospitalizations that lasted for months. He has had numerous antipsychotic trials and a course of electroconvulsive therapy, with limited benefit.

More recently, Mr. F’s symptoms began to stabilize on a medication regimen that includes clozapine, 350 mg/d at bedtime, and haloperidol, 2 mg/d. He has not required psychiatric hospitalization for the past year.

Within months of initiating clozapine, Mr. F starts to complain daily about symptoms of worsening abdominal pain, abdominal bloating, nausea, intermittent episodes of emesis, and heartburn. The symptoms begin when he wakes up, are worse in the morning, and persist throughout the morning. He has experienced occasional mild constipation, but no diarrhea or weight loss. There have been no major changes in his diet, addition of new medications, or significant use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs.

Mr. F’s nausea worsens over the next several weeks, to the point he begins to significantly limit how much he eats to cope with it. His GI symptoms are also impacting his mood and daily functioning.

This is not Mr. F’s first experience with significant GI distress. A few months before his first psychotic episode, Mr. F began developing vision problems, joint and abdominal pain, and a general decline in social and academic functioning. At that time, he underwent a significant workup by both GI and integrative medicine, including stool testing, upper endoscopy, and a Cyrex panel (a complementary medicine approach to exploring for specific autoimmune conditions). Results were largely within expected parameters, though a hydrogen breath test was suggestive of possible small intestine bowel overgrowth. More recently, he has been adhering to a gluten-free diet, which his family felt may help prevent some of his physical symptoms as well as mitigate some of his psychotic symptoms. He now asks if he can stop taking clozapine.

[polldaddy:11008393]

EVALUATION Establishing the correct diagnosis

Initially, Mr. F is diagnosed with gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and attempts to manage his symptoms with pharmacologic and diet-based interventions. He significantly cuts down on soda consumption, and undergoes trials of calcium carbonate, antiemetics, and a PPI. Unfortunately, no material improvements are noted, and he continued to experience significant upper GI distress, especially after meals.

The psychiatric treatment team, Mr. F, and his family seek consultation with a GI specialist, who recommends that Mr. F. undergo a nuclear medicine solid gastric emptying scintigraphy study to evaluate for gastroparesis (delayed gastric emptying).¹ Results demonstrate grade 3 gastroparesis, with 56% radiotracer retainment at 4 hours. Mr. F is relieved to finally have an explanation for his persistent GI symptoms, and discusses his treatment options with the GI consultant and psychiatry team.

Continue to: The authors’ observations...

Mr. F and his family are opposed to starting a dopamine antagonist such as metoclopramide or domperidone (the latter is not FDA-approved but is available by special application to the FDA). These are first-line treatments for gastroparesis, but Mr. F and his family do not want them because of the risk of tardive dyskinesia. This is consistent with their previously expressed concerns regarding first-generation antipsychotics, and is why Mr. F has only been treated with a very low dose of haloperidol while the clozapine was titrated. Instead, Mr. F, his family, the psychiatry treatment team, and the GI specialist agree to pursue a combination of a GI hypomotility diet—which includes frequent small meals (4 to 6 per day), ideally with low fiber, low fat, and increased fluid intake—and a trial of the second line agent for gastroparesis, erythromycin, a medication with known hepatic cytochrome P450 (CYP) drug-drug interactions that impacts the clearance of clozapine.

Shared decision making is an evidence-based approach to engaging patients in medical decision making. It allows clinicians to provide education on potential treatment options and includes a discussion of risks and benefits. It also includes an assessment of the patient’s understanding of their condition, explores attitudes towards treatment, and elicits patient values specific to the desired outcome. Even in very ill patients with schizophrenia, shared decision making has been demonstrated to increase patient perception of involvement in their own care and knowledge about their condition.² Using this framework, Mr. F and his family, as well as the GI and psychiatric teams, felt confident that the agreed-upon approach was the best one for Mr. F.

TREATMENT Erythromycin and continued clozapine

Mr. F. is started on erythromycin, 100 mg 3 times a day. Erythromycin is a prokinetic agent that acts as a motilin agonist and increases the rate of gastric emptying. The liquid formulation of the medication is a suspension typically taken in 3- to 4-week courses, with 1 week “off” to prevent tachyphylaxis.³ Compared to the tablet, the liquid suspension has higher bioavailability, allows for easier dose adjustment, and takes less time to reach peak serum concentrations, which make it the preferred formulation for gastroparesis treatment.

Per the GI consultant’s recommendation, Mr. F receives a total of 3 courses of erythromycin, with some improvement in the frequency of his nausea noted only during the third erythromycin course. His clozapine levels are closely monitored during this time, as well as symptoms of clozapine toxicity (ie, sedation, confusion, hypersalivation, seizures, myoclonic jerks), because erythromycin can directly affect clozapine levels.^4,5 Case reports suggest that when these 2 medications are taken concomitantly, erythromycin inhibits the metabolism of hepatic enzyme CYP3A4, causing increased plasma concentrations of clozapine. Before starting erythromycin, Mr. F’s clozapine levels were 809 ng/mL at 350 mg/d. During the erythromycin courses, his levels are 1,043 to 1,074 ng/mL, despite reducing clozapine to 300 mg/d. However, he does not experience any adverse effects of clozapine (including seizures), which were being monitored closely.

The authors’ observations

Clozapine is the most effective medication for treatment-refractory schizophrenia.⁶ Compared to the other second-generation antipsychotics, it is associated with a lower risk of rehospitalization and treatment discontinuation, a significant decrease of positive symptom burden, and a reduction in suicidality.^7,8 Unfortunately, clozapine use is not without significant risk. FDA black box warnings highlight severe neutropenia, myocarditis, seizures, and hypotension as potentially life-threatening adverse effects that require close monitoring.⁹

Recently, clinicians have increasingly focused on the underrecognized but well-established finding that clozapine can cause significant GI adverse effects. While constipation is a known adverse effect of other antipsychotics, a 2016 meta-analysis of 32 studies estimated that the pooled prevalence of clozapine-associated constipation was 31.2%, and showed that patients receiving clozapine were 3 times more likely to be constipated than patients receiving other antipsychotics (odds ratio 3.02, CI 1.91-4.77, P < .001, n = 11 studies).¹⁰ A 2012 review of 16 studies involving potentially lethal adverse effects of clozapine demonstrated that rates of agranulocytosis and GI hypomotility were nearly identical, but that mortality from constipation was 3.6 to 12.5 times higher than mortality from agranulocytosis.¹¹

In 2020, the FDA issued an increased warning regarding severe bowel-related complications in patients receiving clozapine, ranging in severity from mild discomfort to ileus, bowel obstruction, toxic megacolon, and death.⁹

As exemplified by Mr. F’s case, upper GI symptoms associated with clozapine also are distressing and can have a significant impact on quality of life. Dyspepsia is a common complaint in patients with chronic psychiatric illness. A study of 79 psychiatric inpatients hospitalized long-term found that 80% reported at least 1 symptom of dyspepsia.¹² There are few older studies describing the effect of clozapine on the upper GI system. We and others previously reported on significantly increased use of—not only antacids—but also H2 blockers and prokinetic agents after initiating clozapine, but sample sizes are small.^13-15 These older data and newer studies suggest that GERD is a common upper GI disorder diagnosis following clozapine initiation, perhaps reflecting a knowledge gap and infrequent use of the more complex testing required to confirm a diagnosis of GI motility disorders such as gastroparesis.

In a study of 17 patients receiving clozapine, wireless motility capsules were used to measure whole gut motility, including gastric emptying time, small bowel transit time, and colonic transit time. In 82% of patients, there was demonstrated GI hypomotility in at least 1 region, and 41% of participants exhibited delayed gastric emptying, with a cut-off time of >5 hours required for a gastroparesis diagnosis.¹⁶ This is significantly higher than the prevalence of gastroparesis observed in studies of the general community.¹⁷ The Table^18,19 summarizes the differences between GERD and gastroparesis.

OUTCOME Some improvement

Mr. F experiences limited improvement of some of his nausea symptoms during the third erythromycin cycle and returns to the gastroenterologist for a follow-up appointment. The GI specialist decides to discontinue erythromycin in view of potential drug-drug interactions and Mr. F’s elevated clozapine levels and the associated risks that might entail. Mr. F is again offered the D2 dopamine antagonist metoclopramide, but again refuses due to the risk for tardive dyskinesia. He is asked to continue the GI dysmotility diet. Mr. F finds some relief of nausea symptoms from an over-the-counter product for nausea (a nasal inhalant containing essential oils) and is advised to follow up with the GI specialist in 3 months. Shortly thereafter, he is discharged to live in a less restrictive supportive housing environment, and his follow-up psychiatric care is provided by an assertive community treatment team. Over the next several months, the dosage of clozapine is decreased to 250 mg/d. Mr. F initially experiences worsening psychiatric symptoms, but stabilizes thereafter. He then moves out of state to be closer to his family.

Bottom Line

In patients receiving clozapine, frequent nausea along with clustering of heartburn, abdominal pain, bloating, early satiety, and vomiting (especially after meals) may signal gastroparesis rather than gastroesophageal reflux disease. Such patients may require consultation with a gastroenterologist, a scintigraphy-based gastric emptying test, and treatment if gastroparesis is confirmed.