Mixed Topics

Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to [email protected].
 

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to [email protected].
 

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to [email protected].
 

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

Acting as an expert witness in a legal matter can be a nice way to compliment your practice. However, it is important to understand the role of experts, as well as their duties and obligations. Expert witnesses are called to testify on the basis of their specialized knowledge, not necessarily their direct knowledge of events and issues in the case.

Medical experts often play an important role in the evaluation, development, and preparation of a case long before it ever goes to trial. In some states, to even file a medical malpractice complaint a plaintiff is required to have the case evaluated by an expert and obtain a written report outlining why the plaintiff has a reasonable and meritorious cause for filing such an action.

There are different types of expert witness testimony. Experts can give opinion testimony as a physician who provided treatment to the plaintiff and whose conduct is not at issue. The second type of expert witness is a retained or controlled expert witness. This is a person giving opinion testimony after being retained by a lawyer on behalf of one of the parties to the lawsuit.

Before you give deposition or trial testimony, your opinions must be disclosed in writing and provided to the other parties in the case. In federal court, this is governed by Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 26. If the case is pending in state court, your written opinions are governed by local court rules. In both cases, the written opinions should be thorough and complete because you will not be allowed to testify to new opinions at the time of trial but will generally be allowed to expand upon those disclosed in writing at your deposition trial.

In order for a jury to hear your opinions at trial, your opinions must be reliable. In federal court, expert testimony is governed by Federal Rule of Evidence 702, which states:

A witness who is qualified as an expert by knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education may testify in the form of an opinion or otherwise if:

a) the expert’s scientific, technical, or other specialized knowledge will help the trier of fact to understand the evidence or to determine a fact in issue;

b) the testimony is based on sufficient facts or data;

c) the testimony is the product of reliable principles and methods; and

d) the expert has reliably applied the principles and methods to the facts of the case.

This means, that if a fact or evidence at issue involves scientific, technical, or specialized knowledge that is outside the scope of an ordinary layman’s experience, or involves complex issues challenging a layman’s comprehension, expert testimony is required. The scientific evidence must not just be relevant but also reliable. Expert opinions will be scrutinized to see if they are based on scientific testing or review of scientific data rather than just assumptions or speculation. Additionally, the experts must be qualified by their knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education. Given these parameters, it should come as no surprise that expert trial testimony is required for all medical malpractice cases.

Some states follow the “new or novel rule” which dictates that expert testimony is only admissible if the methodology or scientific principal on which the opinion is based is sufficiently established to have gained general acceptance in the particular field in which it belongs. This means that the evidence must be generally accepted as reliable in the relevant scientific community. New or novel techniques will be placed under the scrutiny of this standard. Courts will look at papers, books, journals, and case law to make a determination as to the reliability and general acceptance. Failure to meet the requisite standards may render a physician ineligible to testify.

Mr. Mills is an equity partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC in Chicago. Ms. Lindbert is a partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC. Both focus their practices on defending doctors and hospitals in medical malpractice actions.

Acting as an expert witness in a legal matter can be a nice way to compliment your practice. However, it is important to understand the role of experts, as well as their duties and obligations. Expert witnesses are called to testify on the basis of their specialized knowledge, not necessarily their direct knowledge of events and issues in the case.

Medical experts often play an important role in the evaluation, development, and preparation of a case long before it ever goes to trial. In some states, to even file a medical malpractice complaint a plaintiff is required to have the case evaluated by an expert and obtain a written report outlining why the plaintiff has a reasonable and meritorious cause for filing such an action.

There are different types of expert witness testimony. Experts can give opinion testimony as a physician who provided treatment to the plaintiff and whose conduct is not at issue. The second type of expert witness is a retained or controlled expert witness. This is a person giving opinion testimony after being retained by a lawyer on behalf of one of the parties to the lawsuit.

Before you give deposition or trial testimony, your opinions must be disclosed in writing and provided to the other parties in the case. In federal court, this is governed by Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 26. If the case is pending in state court, your written opinions are governed by local court rules. In both cases, the written opinions should be thorough and complete because you will not be allowed to testify to new opinions at the time of trial but will generally be allowed to expand upon those disclosed in writing at your deposition trial.

In order for a jury to hear your opinions at trial, your opinions must be reliable. In federal court, expert testimony is governed by Federal Rule of Evidence 702, which states:

A witness who is qualified as an expert by knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education may testify in the form of an opinion or otherwise if:

a) the expert’s scientific, technical, or other specialized knowledge will help the trier of fact to understand the evidence or to determine a fact in issue;

b) the testimony is based on sufficient facts or data;

c) the testimony is the product of reliable principles and methods; and

d) the expert has reliably applied the principles and methods to the facts of the case.

This means, that if a fact or evidence at issue involves scientific, technical, or specialized knowledge that is outside the scope of an ordinary layman’s experience, or involves complex issues challenging a layman’s comprehension, expert testimony is required. The scientific evidence must not just be relevant but also reliable. Expert opinions will be scrutinized to see if they are based on scientific testing or review of scientific data rather than just assumptions or speculation. Additionally, the experts must be qualified by their knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education. Given these parameters, it should come as no surprise that expert trial testimony is required for all medical malpractice cases.

Some states follow the “new or novel rule” which dictates that expert testimony is only admissible if the methodology or scientific principal on which the opinion is based is sufficiently established to have gained general acceptance in the particular field in which it belongs. This means that the evidence must be generally accepted as reliable in the relevant scientific community. New or novel techniques will be placed under the scrutiny of this standard. Courts will look at papers, books, journals, and case law to make a determination as to the reliability and general acceptance. Failure to meet the requisite standards may render a physician ineligible to testify.

Mr. Mills is an equity partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC in Chicago. Ms. Lindbert is a partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC. Both focus their practices on defending doctors and hospitals in medical malpractice actions.

Acting as an expert witness in a legal matter can be a nice way to compliment your practice. However, it is important to understand the role of experts, as well as their duties and obligations. Expert witnesses are called to testify on the basis of their specialized knowledge, not necessarily their direct knowledge of events and issues in the case.

Medical experts often play an important role in the evaluation, development, and preparation of a case long before it ever goes to trial. In some states, to even file a medical malpractice complaint a plaintiff is required to have the case evaluated by an expert and obtain a written report outlining why the plaintiff has a reasonable and meritorious cause for filing such an action.

There are different types of expert witness testimony. Experts can give opinion testimony as a physician who provided treatment to the plaintiff and whose conduct is not at issue. The second type of expert witness is a retained or controlled expert witness. This is a person giving opinion testimony after being retained by a lawyer on behalf of one of the parties to the lawsuit.

Before you give deposition or trial testimony, your opinions must be disclosed in writing and provided to the other parties in the case. In federal court, this is governed by Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 26. If the case is pending in state court, your written opinions are governed by local court rules. In both cases, the written opinions should be thorough and complete because you will not be allowed to testify to new opinions at the time of trial but will generally be allowed to expand upon those disclosed in writing at your deposition trial.

In order for a jury to hear your opinions at trial, your opinions must be reliable. In federal court, expert testimony is governed by Federal Rule of Evidence 702, which states:

A witness who is qualified as an expert by knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education may testify in the form of an opinion or otherwise if:

a) the expert’s scientific, technical, or other specialized knowledge will help the trier of fact to understand the evidence or to determine a fact in issue;

b) the testimony is based on sufficient facts or data;

c) the testimony is the product of reliable principles and methods; and

d) the expert has reliably applied the principles and methods to the facts of the case.

This means, that if a fact or evidence at issue involves scientific, technical, or specialized knowledge that is outside the scope of an ordinary layman’s experience, or involves complex issues challenging a layman’s comprehension, expert testimony is required. The scientific evidence must not just be relevant but also reliable. Expert opinions will be scrutinized to see if they are based on scientific testing or review of scientific data rather than just assumptions or speculation. Additionally, the experts must be qualified by their knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education. Given these parameters, it should come as no surprise that expert trial testimony is required for all medical malpractice cases.

Some states follow the “new or novel rule” which dictates that expert testimony is only admissible if the methodology or scientific principal on which the opinion is based is sufficiently established to have gained general acceptance in the particular field in which it belongs. This means that the evidence must be generally accepted as reliable in the relevant scientific community. New or novel techniques will be placed under the scrutiny of this standard. Courts will look at papers, books, journals, and case law to make a determination as to the reliability and general acceptance. Failure to meet the requisite standards may render a physician ineligible to testify.

Mr. Mills is an equity partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC in Chicago. Ms. Lindbert is a partner at Cunningham, Meyer & Vedrine PC. Both focus their practices on defending doctors and hospitals in medical malpractice actions.

Tandem autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) could extend progression-free survival (PFS) for some patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma, based on long-term data from the phase 3 STaMINA trial.

While the intent-to-treat analysis showed no difference in 6-year PFS rate between single versus tandem HSCT, the as-treated analysis showed that patients who received two transplants had a 6-year PFS rate that was approximately 10% higher than those who received just one transplant, reported lead author Parameswaran Hari, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, who presented the findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

The STaMINA trial, also known as BMT CTN 0702, involved 758 patients who were randomized to receive one of three treatment regimens followed by 3 years of maintenance lenalidomide: tandem HSCT (auto/auto), single HSCT plus consolidation with lenalidomide/bortezomib/dexamethasone (auto/RVD), and single HSCT (auto/len).

“At the time, we intended the study to stop approximately 38 months from randomization, allowing for the time for transplant, and then 3 years of maintenance,” Dr. Hari said. However, as the results of lenalidomide maintenance in CALGB 00104 study were reported, they allowed for a follow-on protocol, which provided patients who are progression-free at the completion of the original STaMINA trial to go on to a second follow-on trial, which allowed lenalidomide maintenance on an indefinite basis, he added.

The present analysis looked at the long-term results of this follow-on trial, including the impact of discontinuing lenalidomide.

Aligning with the original study, the present intent-to-treat analysis showed no significant difference between treatment arms for 6-year PFS rate or overall survival. Respectively, PFS rates for auto/auto, auto/RVD, and auto/len were 43.9%, 39.7%, and 40.9% (P = .6).

But 32% of patients in the tandem group never underwent second HSCT, Dr. Hari noted, prompting the as-treated analysis. Although overall survival remained similar between groups, the 6-year PFS was significantly higher for patients who underwent tandem HSCT, at 49.4%, compared with 39.7% for auto/RVD and 38.6% for auto/len (P = .03).

Subgroup analysis showed the statistical benefit of tandem HSCT was driven by high-risk patients, who had a significantly better PFS after tandem transplant, compared with standard-risk patients, who showed no significant benefit.

Dr. Hari called the findings “provocative.”

“The tandem auto approach may still be relevant in high-risk multiple myeloma patients,” he said.

Dr. Hari and his colleagues also found that patients who stayed on maintenance lenalidomide after 38 months had a better 5-year PFS rate than those who discontinued maintenance therapy (79.5% vs. 61%; P = .0004). Subgroup analysis showed this benefit was statistically significant among patients with standard-risk disease (86.3% vs. 66%; P less than .001) but not among those in the high-risk subgroup (86.7% vs. 67.8%; P = .2).

However, Dr. Hari suggested that, based on the similarity of proportions between subgroups, the lack of significance in the high-risk subgroup was likely because of small sample size, suggesting the benefit of maintenance was actually shared across risk strata.

“Lenalidomide maintenance becomes a significant factor for preventing patients from progression,” Dr. Hari said, noting that the tandem transplant approach requires further study, and that he and his colleagues would soon publish minimal residual disease data.

He finished his presentation with a clear clinical recommendation. “Preplanned lenalidomide discontinuation at 3 years is not recommended based on inferior progression-free survival among those who stopped such therapy,” he said.

Invited discussant Joshua R. Richter, MD, of the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said the findings encourage high-dose maintenance therapy, and for some, tandem HSCT.

“The STaMINA study presented today supports the notion that some patients with high-risk disease still may benefit and have further tumor burden reduction with the second transplant that leads to deeper remissions and hopefully abrogates diminished outcomes,” Dr. Richter said during a virtual presentation.

But improvements are needed to better identify such patients, Dr. Richter added. He highlighted a lack of standardization in risk modeling, with various factors currently employed, such as patient characteristics and genomic markers, among several others.

“Better definitions will allow us to cross compare and make true analyses about how to manage these patients,” Dr. Richter said. “Despite the improvements across the board that we’ve seen in myeloma patients, high-risk disease continues to represent a more complicated arena. And patients continue to suffer from worse outcomes, despite all of the other advances.”

The study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Amgen, Celgene, Novartis, and others. Dr. Richter disclosed affiliations with Takeda, Sanofi, Janssen, and others.
 

SOURCE: Hari et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract 8506.

Tandem autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) could extend progression-free survival (PFS) for some patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma, based on long-term data from the phase 3 STaMINA trial.

While the intent-to-treat analysis showed no difference in 6-year PFS rate between single versus tandem HSCT, the as-treated analysis showed that patients who received two transplants had a 6-year PFS rate that was approximately 10% higher than those who received just one transplant, reported lead author Parameswaran Hari, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, who presented the findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

The STaMINA trial, also known as BMT CTN 0702, involved 758 patients who were randomized to receive one of three treatment regimens followed by 3 years of maintenance lenalidomide: tandem HSCT (auto/auto), single HSCT plus consolidation with lenalidomide/bortezomib/dexamethasone (auto/RVD), and single HSCT (auto/len).

“At the time, we intended the study to stop approximately 38 months from randomization, allowing for the time for transplant, and then 3 years of maintenance,” Dr. Hari said. However, as the results of lenalidomide maintenance in CALGB 00104 study were reported, they allowed for a follow-on protocol, which provided patients who are progression-free at the completion of the original STaMINA trial to go on to a second follow-on trial, which allowed lenalidomide maintenance on an indefinite basis, he added.

The present analysis looked at the long-term results of this follow-on trial, including the impact of discontinuing lenalidomide.

Aligning with the original study, the present intent-to-treat analysis showed no significant difference between treatment arms for 6-year PFS rate or overall survival. Respectively, PFS rates for auto/auto, auto/RVD, and auto/len were 43.9%, 39.7%, and 40.9% (P = .6).

But 32% of patients in the tandem group never underwent second HSCT, Dr. Hari noted, prompting the as-treated analysis. Although overall survival remained similar between groups, the 6-year PFS was significantly higher for patients who underwent tandem HSCT, at 49.4%, compared with 39.7% for auto/RVD and 38.6% for auto/len (P = .03).

Subgroup analysis showed the statistical benefit of tandem HSCT was driven by high-risk patients, who had a significantly better PFS after tandem transplant, compared with standard-risk patients, who showed no significant benefit.

Dr. Hari called the findings “provocative.”

“The tandem auto approach may still be relevant in high-risk multiple myeloma patients,” he said.

Dr. Hari and his colleagues also found that patients who stayed on maintenance lenalidomide after 38 months had a better 5-year PFS rate than those who discontinued maintenance therapy (79.5% vs. 61%; P = .0004). Subgroup analysis showed this benefit was statistically significant among patients with standard-risk disease (86.3% vs. 66%; P less than .001) but not among those in the high-risk subgroup (86.7% vs. 67.8%; P = .2).

However, Dr. Hari suggested that, based on the similarity of proportions between subgroups, the lack of significance in the high-risk subgroup was likely because of small sample size, suggesting the benefit of maintenance was actually shared across risk strata.

“Lenalidomide maintenance becomes a significant factor for preventing patients from progression,” Dr. Hari said, noting that the tandem transplant approach requires further study, and that he and his colleagues would soon publish minimal residual disease data.

He finished his presentation with a clear clinical recommendation. “Preplanned lenalidomide discontinuation at 3 years is not recommended based on inferior progression-free survival among those who stopped such therapy,” he said.

Invited discussant Joshua R. Richter, MD, of the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said the findings encourage high-dose maintenance therapy, and for some, tandem HSCT.

“The STaMINA study presented today supports the notion that some patients with high-risk disease still may benefit and have further tumor burden reduction with the second transplant that leads to deeper remissions and hopefully abrogates diminished outcomes,” Dr. Richter said during a virtual presentation.

But improvements are needed to better identify such patients, Dr. Richter added. He highlighted a lack of standardization in risk modeling, with various factors currently employed, such as patient characteristics and genomic markers, among several others.

“Better definitions will allow us to cross compare and make true analyses about how to manage these patients,” Dr. Richter said. “Despite the improvements across the board that we’ve seen in myeloma patients, high-risk disease continues to represent a more complicated arena. And patients continue to suffer from worse outcomes, despite all of the other advances.”

The study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Amgen, Celgene, Novartis, and others. Dr. Richter disclosed affiliations with Takeda, Sanofi, Janssen, and others.
 

SOURCE: Hari et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract 8506.

Tandem autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) could extend progression-free survival (PFS) for some patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma, based on long-term data from the phase 3 STaMINA trial.

While the intent-to-treat analysis showed no difference in 6-year PFS rate between single versus tandem HSCT, the as-treated analysis showed that patients who received two transplants had a 6-year PFS rate that was approximately 10% higher than those who received just one transplant, reported lead author Parameswaran Hari, MD, of the Medical College of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, who presented the findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

The STaMINA trial, also known as BMT CTN 0702, involved 758 patients who were randomized to receive one of three treatment regimens followed by 3 years of maintenance lenalidomide: tandem HSCT (auto/auto), single HSCT plus consolidation with lenalidomide/bortezomib/dexamethasone (auto/RVD), and single HSCT (auto/len).

“At the time, we intended the study to stop approximately 38 months from randomization, allowing for the time for transplant, and then 3 years of maintenance,” Dr. Hari said. However, as the results of lenalidomide maintenance in CALGB 00104 study were reported, they allowed for a follow-on protocol, which provided patients who are progression-free at the completion of the original STaMINA trial to go on to a second follow-on trial, which allowed lenalidomide maintenance on an indefinite basis, he added.

The present analysis looked at the long-term results of this follow-on trial, including the impact of discontinuing lenalidomide.

Aligning with the original study, the present intent-to-treat analysis showed no significant difference between treatment arms for 6-year PFS rate or overall survival. Respectively, PFS rates for auto/auto, auto/RVD, and auto/len were 43.9%, 39.7%, and 40.9% (P = .6).

But 32% of patients in the tandem group never underwent second HSCT, Dr. Hari noted, prompting the as-treated analysis. Although overall survival remained similar between groups, the 6-year PFS was significantly higher for patients who underwent tandem HSCT, at 49.4%, compared with 39.7% for auto/RVD and 38.6% for auto/len (P = .03).

Subgroup analysis showed the statistical benefit of tandem HSCT was driven by high-risk patients, who had a significantly better PFS after tandem transplant, compared with standard-risk patients, who showed no significant benefit.

Dr. Hari called the findings “provocative.”

“The tandem auto approach may still be relevant in high-risk multiple myeloma patients,” he said.

Dr. Hari and his colleagues also found that patients who stayed on maintenance lenalidomide after 38 months had a better 5-year PFS rate than those who discontinued maintenance therapy (79.5% vs. 61%; P = .0004). Subgroup analysis showed this benefit was statistically significant among patients with standard-risk disease (86.3% vs. 66%; P less than .001) but not among those in the high-risk subgroup (86.7% vs. 67.8%; P = .2).

However, Dr. Hari suggested that, based on the similarity of proportions between subgroups, the lack of significance in the high-risk subgroup was likely because of small sample size, suggesting the benefit of maintenance was actually shared across risk strata.

“Lenalidomide maintenance becomes a significant factor for preventing patients from progression,” Dr. Hari said, noting that the tandem transplant approach requires further study, and that he and his colleagues would soon publish minimal residual disease data.

He finished his presentation with a clear clinical recommendation. “Preplanned lenalidomide discontinuation at 3 years is not recommended based on inferior progression-free survival among those who stopped such therapy,” he said.

Invited discussant Joshua R. Richter, MD, of the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said the findings encourage high-dose maintenance therapy, and for some, tandem HSCT.

“The STaMINA study presented today supports the notion that some patients with high-risk disease still may benefit and have further tumor burden reduction with the second transplant that leads to deeper remissions and hopefully abrogates diminished outcomes,” Dr. Richter said during a virtual presentation.

But improvements are needed to better identify such patients, Dr. Richter added. He highlighted a lack of standardization in risk modeling, with various factors currently employed, such as patient characteristics and genomic markers, among several others.

“Better definitions will allow us to cross compare and make true analyses about how to manage these patients,” Dr. Richter said. “Despite the improvements across the board that we’ve seen in myeloma patients, high-risk disease continues to represent a more complicated arena. And patients continue to suffer from worse outcomes, despite all of the other advances.”

The study was funded by the National Institutes of Health. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Amgen, Celgene, Novartis, and others. Dr. Richter disclosed affiliations with Takeda, Sanofi, Janssen, and others.
 

SOURCE: Hari et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract 8506.

As hospitals and clinicians, we are facing increased scrutiny of the care we provide to our patients. There is increased demand for more transparency of our outcomes and a need for increased efficiency of the care we provide in the setting of already significant documentation burden and its known impact on provider burnout.

Clinical documentation integrity (CDI) is an instrumental department which supports complete and accurate documentation, serves as a bridge between physicians and hospital coders such that hospital reimbursement is appropriate and quality metrics are attributed appropriately to the hospital, service lines, and individual providers. Complete and accurate documentation also leads to the submission of coded/claims-based data reflecting provider true intent and to clinically valid data for research and patient centric purposes. For this reason, the physician adviser role as a liaison between physicians and CDI and coding, in addition to utilization management and case management, has become more commonplace. The physician adviser role has been a mainstay of CDI programs across the United States since as early as 2012.

At the University of Colorado Health (UCHealth), the physician adviser role first began in 2015 at our major academic medical center, the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH). That physician adviser, after the additional physician adviser FTE at UCH, having established relationships with physicians across service lines, began to focus on CDI-related education and communication as it pertained to inpatient documentation.

At our institution we have approximately 500 advance practice providers (APPs). Approximately two-thirds of the APPs care for inpatients on a myriad of different service lines and, along with physician learners from interns to fellows, complete the bulk of the documentation in the electronic health record.

In early 2018, the UCHealth office of advanced practice collaborated with CDI in its mission to optimize documentation with the aim to have a positive impact on reimbursement and quality metrics while highlighting APP value. In the relatively early stages of the collaboration it became evident that an APP adviser could be an innovative and effective approach in engaging our many APPs with CDI as faculty members who are generally service line based and, as such, invested in hospital and service line outcomes.

A business case for a new position of APP adviser for CDI was formulated based on not only the number of APP faculty and learners at our institution, but also on the premise that the level of consistency APPs provide would increase reliability in the adoption and adaptation of documentation practices as medicine and coding rules evolve. In addition, APP documentation can stand alone without physician attestation or signature, unlike physicians in training, further making them ideally suited collaborators. The position was approved by hospital leadership and the first APP adviser for CDI in the country (of whom we are aware) was hired at UCH in July 2019.

University of Colorado

A dedicated APP CDI adviser facilitates the success of a CDI/APP collaboration through a better understanding of APP engagement needs largely by creating new and/or fostering existing relationships between the APP adviser and the APPs for each service line. The APP CDI adviser identifies the needs of the team in order to maximally enhance their documentation while illustrating how the work/collaboration can positively contribute to APP clinical and/or academic goals. The APP CDI adviser possesses a deeper knowledge of APP clinical work flow and how that work flow might be impacting the documentation. He or she utilizes information gathered from the APP team to create more efficient note templates, provide lunch and learns with different service line APPs, and offering 1:1 drop-in documentation support, allowing for more feedback flexibility in context of their clinical work flow.

This real time input may be received more positively and be perceived as less intimidating in the peer-to-peer context. The APP adviser also attends various educational forums to which the physician advisers may not have access. For example, the APP adviser attends monthly APP orientation to meet new APPs for the institution, attends APP council, is a member of the APP steering committee, and provides documentation tips for the APP monthly newsletter.

At this point we are in the process of collecting pre- and post data to illustrate the benefit of a CDI APP adviser (and the CDI APP collaboration as a whole) through metrics such as CC/MCC capture rate, case mix index, and mortality and length of stay as influenced by the level of complexity in documentation. We hope to add APPs as advisers across the UCHealth system over time and to continue to highlight and publish the experience and outcomes related to this innovative role as it evolves such that other institutions across the country will consider this type of collaboration.

Dr. Anoff is associate professor of clinical practice in the division of hospital medicine and medical director of clinical documentation integrity at University of Colorado Health, Denver. Ms. Brill is senior instructor in the department of neurosurgery and APP adviser of clinical documentation integrity at UCHealth Denver Metro.

As hospitals and clinicians, we are facing increased scrutiny of the care we provide to our patients. There is increased demand for more transparency of our outcomes and a need for increased efficiency of the care we provide in the setting of already significant documentation burden and its known impact on provider burnout.

Clinical documentation integrity (CDI) is an instrumental department which supports complete and accurate documentation, serves as a bridge between physicians and hospital coders such that hospital reimbursement is appropriate and quality metrics are attributed appropriately to the hospital, service lines, and individual providers. Complete and accurate documentation also leads to the submission of coded/claims-based data reflecting provider true intent and to clinically valid data for research and patient centric purposes. For this reason, the physician adviser role as a liaison between physicians and CDI and coding, in addition to utilization management and case management, has become more commonplace. The physician adviser role has been a mainstay of CDI programs across the United States since as early as 2012.

At the University of Colorado Health (UCHealth), the physician adviser role first began in 2015 at our major academic medical center, the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH). That physician adviser, after the additional physician adviser FTE at UCH, having established relationships with physicians across service lines, began to focus on CDI-related education and communication as it pertained to inpatient documentation.

At our institution we have approximately 500 advance practice providers (APPs). Approximately two-thirds of the APPs care for inpatients on a myriad of different service lines and, along with physician learners from interns to fellows, complete the bulk of the documentation in the electronic health record.

In early 2018, the UCHealth office of advanced practice collaborated with CDI in its mission to optimize documentation with the aim to have a positive impact on reimbursement and quality metrics while highlighting APP value. In the relatively early stages of the collaboration it became evident that an APP adviser could be an innovative and effective approach in engaging our many APPs with CDI as faculty members who are generally service line based and, as such, invested in hospital and service line outcomes.

A business case for a new position of APP adviser for CDI was formulated based on not only the number of APP faculty and learners at our institution, but also on the premise that the level of consistency APPs provide would increase reliability in the adoption and adaptation of documentation practices as medicine and coding rules evolve. In addition, APP documentation can stand alone without physician attestation or signature, unlike physicians in training, further making them ideally suited collaborators. The position was approved by hospital leadership and the first APP adviser for CDI in the country (of whom we are aware) was hired at UCH in July 2019.

University of Colorado

A dedicated APP CDI adviser facilitates the success of a CDI/APP collaboration through a better understanding of APP engagement needs largely by creating new and/or fostering existing relationships between the APP adviser and the APPs for each service line. The APP CDI adviser identifies the needs of the team in order to maximally enhance their documentation while illustrating how the work/collaboration can positively contribute to APP clinical and/or academic goals. The APP CDI adviser possesses a deeper knowledge of APP clinical work flow and how that work flow might be impacting the documentation. He or she utilizes information gathered from the APP team to create more efficient note templates, provide lunch and learns with different service line APPs, and offering 1:1 drop-in documentation support, allowing for more feedback flexibility in context of their clinical work flow.

This real time input may be received more positively and be perceived as less intimidating in the peer-to-peer context. The APP adviser also attends various educational forums to which the physician advisers may not have access. For example, the APP adviser attends monthly APP orientation to meet new APPs for the institution, attends APP council, is a member of the APP steering committee, and provides documentation tips for the APP monthly newsletter.

At this point we are in the process of collecting pre- and post data to illustrate the benefit of a CDI APP adviser (and the CDI APP collaboration as a whole) through metrics such as CC/MCC capture rate, case mix index, and mortality and length of stay as influenced by the level of complexity in documentation. We hope to add APPs as advisers across the UCHealth system over time and to continue to highlight and publish the experience and outcomes related to this innovative role as it evolves such that other institutions across the country will consider this type of collaboration.

Dr. Anoff is associate professor of clinical practice in the division of hospital medicine and medical director of clinical documentation integrity at University of Colorado Health, Denver. Ms. Brill is senior instructor in the department of neurosurgery and APP adviser of clinical documentation integrity at UCHealth Denver Metro.

As hospitals and clinicians, we are facing increased scrutiny of the care we provide to our patients. There is increased demand for more transparency of our outcomes and a need for increased efficiency of the care we provide in the setting of already significant documentation burden and its known impact on provider burnout.

Clinical documentation integrity (CDI) is an instrumental department which supports complete and accurate documentation, serves as a bridge between physicians and hospital coders such that hospital reimbursement is appropriate and quality metrics are attributed appropriately to the hospital, service lines, and individual providers. Complete and accurate documentation also leads to the submission of coded/claims-based data reflecting provider true intent and to clinically valid data for research and patient centric purposes. For this reason, the physician adviser role as a liaison between physicians and CDI and coding, in addition to utilization management and case management, has become more commonplace. The physician adviser role has been a mainstay of CDI programs across the United States since as early as 2012.

At the University of Colorado Health (UCHealth), the physician adviser role first began in 2015 at our major academic medical center, the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH). That physician adviser, after the additional physician adviser FTE at UCH, having established relationships with physicians across service lines, began to focus on CDI-related education and communication as it pertained to inpatient documentation.

At our institution we have approximately 500 advance practice providers (APPs). Approximately two-thirds of the APPs care for inpatients on a myriad of different service lines and, along with physician learners from interns to fellows, complete the bulk of the documentation in the electronic health record.

In early 2018, the UCHealth office of advanced practice collaborated with CDI in its mission to optimize documentation with the aim to have a positive impact on reimbursement and quality metrics while highlighting APP value. In the relatively early stages of the collaboration it became evident that an APP adviser could be an innovative and effective approach in engaging our many APPs with CDI as faculty members who are generally service line based and, as such, invested in hospital and service line outcomes.

A business case for a new position of APP adviser for CDI was formulated based on not only the number of APP faculty and learners at our institution, but also on the premise that the level of consistency APPs provide would increase reliability in the adoption and adaptation of documentation practices as medicine and coding rules evolve. In addition, APP documentation can stand alone without physician attestation or signature, unlike physicians in training, further making them ideally suited collaborators. The position was approved by hospital leadership and the first APP adviser for CDI in the country (of whom we are aware) was hired at UCH in July 2019.

University of Colorado

A dedicated APP CDI adviser facilitates the success of a CDI/APP collaboration through a better understanding of APP engagement needs largely by creating new and/or fostering existing relationships between the APP adviser and the APPs for each service line. The APP CDI adviser identifies the needs of the team in order to maximally enhance their documentation while illustrating how the work/collaboration can positively contribute to APP clinical and/or academic goals. The APP CDI adviser possesses a deeper knowledge of APP clinical work flow and how that work flow might be impacting the documentation. He or she utilizes information gathered from the APP team to create more efficient note templates, provide lunch and learns with different service line APPs, and offering 1:1 drop-in documentation support, allowing for more feedback flexibility in context of their clinical work flow.

This real time input may be received more positively and be perceived as less intimidating in the peer-to-peer context. The APP adviser also attends various educational forums to which the physician advisers may not have access. For example, the APP adviser attends monthly APP orientation to meet new APPs for the institution, attends APP council, is a member of the APP steering committee, and provides documentation tips for the APP monthly newsletter.

At this point we are in the process of collecting pre- and post data to illustrate the benefit of a CDI APP adviser (and the CDI APP collaboration as a whole) through metrics such as CC/MCC capture rate, case mix index, and mortality and length of stay as influenced by the level of complexity in documentation. We hope to add APPs as advisers across the UCHealth system over time and to continue to highlight and publish the experience and outcomes related to this innovative role as it evolves such that other institutions across the country will consider this type of collaboration.

Dr. Anoff is associate professor of clinical practice in the division of hospital medicine and medical director of clinical documentation integrity at University of Colorado Health, Denver. Ms. Brill is senior instructor in the department of neurosurgery and APP adviser of clinical documentation integrity at UCHealth Denver Metro.

Approximately one-fifth of patients undergoing hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) develop posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), based on a retrospective analysis.

Patient factors at time of transplantation, such as low quality of life and high anxiety, predicted PTSD 6 months later, reported lead author Sarah Griffith, MD, of Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, who presented findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

“We know that patients admitted for HSCT are often isolated in the hospital for a prolonged period of time, usually about 3-4 weeks, and that they endure substantial toxicities that impact both their physical and psychological well-being,” Dr. Griffith said. “We also know from the literature that HSCT can be considered a traumatic event and that it may lead to clinically significant PTSD symptoms.” But studies evaluating the prevalence and characteristics of PTSD in this patient population have been lacking, she noted.

Dr. Griffith and her colleagues therefore conducted a retrospective analysis involving 250 adults with hematologic malignancies who underwent autologous or allogeneic HSCT during clinical trials conducted from 2014 to 2016. Median patient age was 56 years.

The first objective of the study was to measure the prevalence of PTSD. The second was to characterize features of PTSD such as intrusion, which entails reliving experiences in the form of nightmares or flashbacks, and hypervigilance, which encompasses insomnia, irritability, and hyperarousal for threat. The third objective was to determine risk factors at baseline.

At time of admission for HSCT, after 2 weeks of hospitalization, and again 6 months after transplantation, patients were evaluated using the Functional Assessment of Cancer Therapy–Bone Marrow Transplant (FACT-BMT), and the Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale (HADS), which measured of quality of life, anxiety, and depression. Six months after HSCT, patients also underwent screening for PTSD with the Post-Traumatic Stress Checklist (PTSD-CL). Multivariate regression models were used to determine predictive risk factors.

Six months after HSCT, 18.9% of patients had clinically significant PTSD symptoms; most common were symptoms of avoidance (92.3%), hypervigilance (92.3%), and intrusion (76.9%). Among those who did not have clinically significant PTSD, almost one-quarter (24.5%) demonstrated significant hypervigilance, while 13.7% showed symptoms of avoidance.

“Clinically significant PTSD symptoms are common in the transplant population,” Dr. Griffith said.

Baseline predictors of PTSD included single status and lower quality of life. More severe PTSD was predicted by single status, younger age, higher baseline scores for anxiety or depression, and increased anxiety during hospitalization.

Concluding her presentation, Dr. Griffith said that the findings, while correlative and not causative, should prompt concern and intervention.

“It is very important to be aware of and to manage PTSD symptoms in these patients,” she said. “There are several baseline factors that can be identified prior to HSCT that may illuminate patients at risk for developing worse PTSD symptoms down the road, and these patients may benefit from tailored supportive care interventions.”

Specifically, Dr. Griffith recommended integrating palliative care into hospitalization, as this has been shown to reduce anxiety.

In a virtual presentation, invited discussant Nirali N. Shah, MD, of the National Cancer Institute, Bethesda, Md., highlighted the importance of the findings, while also noting that the impact of palliative care on risk of PTSD has yet to be demonstrated.

Dr. Shah suggested that future research may be improved through use of a formal diagnosis for PTSD, instead of a PTSD checklist, as was used in the present study.

“And certainly long-term follow-up would be important to evaluate the utility of this tool looking at symptoms beyond 6 months,” she said.

Dr. Shah went on to discuss the relevance of the findings for pediatric populations, as children may face unique risk factors and consequences related to PTSD.

“[PTSD in children] may be impacted by family dynamics and structure,” Dr. Shah said. “Children may also have significant neurocognitive implications as a result of their underlying disease or prior therapy. They may experience chronic pain as they go out into adulthood and long-term survivorship, and may also struggle with symptoms of anxiety and depression.”

According to Dr. Shah, one previous study involving more than 6,000 adult survivors of childhood cancer found that PTSD was relatively common, with prevalence rate of 9%, suggesting that interventional work is necessary.

“Applying the data in the study from Griffith et al. suggests that evaluation in the more proximal posttransplant period for children is needed to specifically evaluate PTSD and symptoms thereof, and to try to use this to identify an opportunity for intervention,” Dr. Shah said.

“Pediatric-specific assessments are essential to optimally capture disease and/or age-specific considerations,” she added.

The study was funded by the Lymphoma and Leukemia Society. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Vector Oncology, Pfizer, AstraZeneca, and Gaido Health/BCG Digital Ventures.

SOURCE: Griffith et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract # 7505.

Approximately one-fifth of patients undergoing hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) develop posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), based on a retrospective analysis.

Patient factors at time of transplantation, such as low quality of life and high anxiety, predicted PTSD 6 months later, reported lead author Sarah Griffith, MD, of Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, who presented findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

“We know that patients admitted for HSCT are often isolated in the hospital for a prolonged period of time, usually about 3-4 weeks, and that they endure substantial toxicities that impact both their physical and psychological well-being,” Dr. Griffith said. “We also know from the literature that HSCT can be considered a traumatic event and that it may lead to clinically significant PTSD symptoms.” But studies evaluating the prevalence and characteristics of PTSD in this patient population have been lacking, she noted.

Dr. Griffith and her colleagues therefore conducted a retrospective analysis involving 250 adults with hematologic malignancies who underwent autologous or allogeneic HSCT during clinical trials conducted from 2014 to 2016. Median patient age was 56 years.

The first objective of the study was to measure the prevalence of PTSD. The second was to characterize features of PTSD such as intrusion, which entails reliving experiences in the form of nightmares or flashbacks, and hypervigilance, which encompasses insomnia, irritability, and hyperarousal for threat. The third objective was to determine risk factors at baseline.

At time of admission for HSCT, after 2 weeks of hospitalization, and again 6 months after transplantation, patients were evaluated using the Functional Assessment of Cancer Therapy–Bone Marrow Transplant (FACT-BMT), and the Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale (HADS), which measured of quality of life, anxiety, and depression. Six months after HSCT, patients also underwent screening for PTSD with the Post-Traumatic Stress Checklist (PTSD-CL). Multivariate regression models were used to determine predictive risk factors.

Six months after HSCT, 18.9% of patients had clinically significant PTSD symptoms; most common were symptoms of avoidance (92.3%), hypervigilance (92.3%), and intrusion (76.9%). Among those who did not have clinically significant PTSD, almost one-quarter (24.5%) demonstrated significant hypervigilance, while 13.7% showed symptoms of avoidance.

“Clinically significant PTSD symptoms are common in the transplant population,” Dr. Griffith said.

Baseline predictors of PTSD included single status and lower quality of life. More severe PTSD was predicted by single status, younger age, higher baseline scores for anxiety or depression, and increased anxiety during hospitalization.

Concluding her presentation, Dr. Griffith said that the findings, while correlative and not causative, should prompt concern and intervention.

“It is very important to be aware of and to manage PTSD symptoms in these patients,” she said. “There are several baseline factors that can be identified prior to HSCT that may illuminate patients at risk for developing worse PTSD symptoms down the road, and these patients may benefit from tailored supportive care interventions.”

Specifically, Dr. Griffith recommended integrating palliative care into hospitalization, as this has been shown to reduce anxiety.

In a virtual presentation, invited discussant Nirali N. Shah, MD, of the National Cancer Institute, Bethesda, Md., highlighted the importance of the findings, while also noting that the impact of palliative care on risk of PTSD has yet to be demonstrated.

Dr. Shah suggested that future research may be improved through use of a formal diagnosis for PTSD, instead of a PTSD checklist, as was used in the present study.

“And certainly long-term follow-up would be important to evaluate the utility of this tool looking at symptoms beyond 6 months,” she said.

Dr. Shah went on to discuss the relevance of the findings for pediatric populations, as children may face unique risk factors and consequences related to PTSD.

“[PTSD in children] may be impacted by family dynamics and structure,” Dr. Shah said. “Children may also have significant neurocognitive implications as a result of their underlying disease or prior therapy. They may experience chronic pain as they go out into adulthood and long-term survivorship, and may also struggle with symptoms of anxiety and depression.”

According to Dr. Shah, one previous study involving more than 6,000 adult survivors of childhood cancer found that PTSD was relatively common, with prevalence rate of 9%, suggesting that interventional work is necessary.

“Applying the data in the study from Griffith et al. suggests that evaluation in the more proximal posttransplant period for children is needed to specifically evaluate PTSD and symptoms thereof, and to try to use this to identify an opportunity for intervention,” Dr. Shah said.

“Pediatric-specific assessments are essential to optimally capture disease and/or age-specific considerations,” she added.

The study was funded by the Lymphoma and Leukemia Society. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Vector Oncology, Pfizer, AstraZeneca, and Gaido Health/BCG Digital Ventures.

SOURCE: Griffith et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract # 7505.

Approximately one-fifth of patients undergoing hematopoietic stem cell transplantation (HSCT) develop posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), based on a retrospective analysis.

Patient factors at time of transplantation, such as low quality of life and high anxiety, predicted PTSD 6 months later, reported lead author Sarah Griffith, MD, of Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, who presented findings as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

“We know that patients admitted for HSCT are often isolated in the hospital for a prolonged period of time, usually about 3-4 weeks, and that they endure substantial toxicities that impact both their physical and psychological well-being,” Dr. Griffith said. “We also know from the literature that HSCT can be considered a traumatic event and that it may lead to clinically significant PTSD symptoms.” But studies evaluating the prevalence and characteristics of PTSD in this patient population have been lacking, she noted.

Dr. Griffith and her colleagues therefore conducted a retrospective analysis involving 250 adults with hematologic malignancies who underwent autologous or allogeneic HSCT during clinical trials conducted from 2014 to 2016. Median patient age was 56 years.

The first objective of the study was to measure the prevalence of PTSD. The second was to characterize features of PTSD such as intrusion, which entails reliving experiences in the form of nightmares or flashbacks, and hypervigilance, which encompasses insomnia, irritability, and hyperarousal for threat. The third objective was to determine risk factors at baseline.

At time of admission for HSCT, after 2 weeks of hospitalization, and again 6 months after transplantation, patients were evaluated using the Functional Assessment of Cancer Therapy–Bone Marrow Transplant (FACT-BMT), and the Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale (HADS), which measured of quality of life, anxiety, and depression. Six months after HSCT, patients also underwent screening for PTSD with the Post-Traumatic Stress Checklist (PTSD-CL). Multivariate regression models were used to determine predictive risk factors.

Six months after HSCT, 18.9% of patients had clinically significant PTSD symptoms; most common were symptoms of avoidance (92.3%), hypervigilance (92.3%), and intrusion (76.9%). Among those who did not have clinically significant PTSD, almost one-quarter (24.5%) demonstrated significant hypervigilance, while 13.7% showed symptoms of avoidance.

“Clinically significant PTSD symptoms are common in the transplant population,” Dr. Griffith said.

Baseline predictors of PTSD included single status and lower quality of life. More severe PTSD was predicted by single status, younger age, higher baseline scores for anxiety or depression, and increased anxiety during hospitalization.

Concluding her presentation, Dr. Griffith said that the findings, while correlative and not causative, should prompt concern and intervention.

“It is very important to be aware of and to manage PTSD symptoms in these patients,” she said. “There are several baseline factors that can be identified prior to HSCT that may illuminate patients at risk for developing worse PTSD symptoms down the road, and these patients may benefit from tailored supportive care interventions.”

Specifically, Dr. Griffith recommended integrating palliative care into hospitalization, as this has been shown to reduce anxiety.

In a virtual presentation, invited discussant Nirali N. Shah, MD, of the National Cancer Institute, Bethesda, Md., highlighted the importance of the findings, while also noting that the impact of palliative care on risk of PTSD has yet to be demonstrated.

Dr. Shah suggested that future research may be improved through use of a formal diagnosis for PTSD, instead of a PTSD checklist, as was used in the present study.

“And certainly long-term follow-up would be important to evaluate the utility of this tool looking at symptoms beyond 6 months,” she said.

Dr. Shah went on to discuss the relevance of the findings for pediatric populations, as children may face unique risk factors and consequences related to PTSD.

“[PTSD in children] may be impacted by family dynamics and structure,” Dr. Shah said. “Children may also have significant neurocognitive implications as a result of their underlying disease or prior therapy. They may experience chronic pain as they go out into adulthood and long-term survivorship, and may also struggle with symptoms of anxiety and depression.”

According to Dr. Shah, one previous study involving more than 6,000 adult survivors of childhood cancer found that PTSD was relatively common, with prevalence rate of 9%, suggesting that interventional work is necessary.

“Applying the data in the study from Griffith et al. suggests that evaluation in the more proximal posttransplant period for children is needed to specifically evaluate PTSD and symptoms thereof, and to try to use this to identify an opportunity for intervention,” Dr. Shah said.

“Pediatric-specific assessments are essential to optimally capture disease and/or age-specific considerations,” she added.

The study was funded by the Lymphoma and Leukemia Society. The investigators disclosed additional relationships with Vector Oncology, Pfizer, AstraZeneca, and Gaido Health/BCG Digital Ventures.

SOURCE: Griffith et al. ASCO 2020. Abstract # 7505.

The Diagnosis: Disseminated Strongyloidiasis  

Strongyloidiasis is a parasitic infection caused by Strongyloides stercoralis. In the United States it is most prevalent in the Appalachian region. During the filariform larval stage of the parasite's life cycle, larvae from contaminated soil infect the human skin and spread to the intestinal epithelium,¹ then the larvae mature into adult female worms that can produce eggs asexually. Rhabditiform larvae hatch from the eggs and are either excreted in the stool or develop into infectious filariform larvae. The latter can cause autoinfection of the intestinal mucosa or nearby skin; in addition, if the larvae enter the bloodstream, they can spread throughout the body and lead to disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.² This often fatal progression most commonly occurs in immunosuppressed individuals.³ The mortality rate has been reported to be up to 87%.^2,4  

Fever, abdominal pain, nausea, and diarrhea are clinically common in disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.⁵ Patients also may exhibit dyspnea, cough, wheezing, and hemoptysis.² Cutaneous manifestations are rare and typically include pruritus and petechiae.⁶ Eosinophilia may be present but is not a reliable indicator.¹  

Our patient displayed several risk factors and an early clinical presentation for disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, which evolved over the course of hospitalization. Clues to the diagnosis included an immunosuppressed state; erythematous pruritic macules at presentation that later developed into reticulated petechial patches; and fever, general abdominal symptoms, and dyspnea. However, the patient's overall physical examination findings were subtle and nonspecific. Additionally, the patient did not display the classic larva currens for strongyloidiasis or the pathognomonic periumbilical thumbprint purpura of disseminated infection,^6,7 which may indicate that the latter is a later-stage finding. Although graft-vs-host disease initially was suspected, a third skin biopsy revealed basophilic Strongyloides larvae, extravasated erythrocytes, and mild perivascular inflammation (Figure).

Subsequent gastric aspirates and stool cultures revealed S stercoralis. A bronchoalveolar lavage specimen and serum enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay for Strongyloides antibody were negative. The patient was treated with an extended 16-day course of ivermectin 12 mg daily until gastric aspirates and stool cultures were negative for the parasite. The rash receded by the end of the patient's 32-day hospital stay.  

Because of the high mortality rate of untreated disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, early diagnosis and initiation of anthelmintic treatment is vital in improving patient outcomes. As such, the diagnosis of disseminated strongyloidiasis should be considered in any immunosuppressed patient with multisystemic symptoms and/or petechiae. The differential diagnosis includes graft-vs-host disease, drug-induced urticaria, disseminated intravascular coagulation, and other opportunistic parasites.^6,8,9

The Diagnosis: Disseminated Strongyloidiasis  

Strongyloidiasis is a parasitic infection caused by Strongyloides stercoralis. In the United States it is most prevalent in the Appalachian region. During the filariform larval stage of the parasite's life cycle, larvae from contaminated soil infect the human skin and spread to the intestinal epithelium,¹ then the larvae mature into adult female worms that can produce eggs asexually. Rhabditiform larvae hatch from the eggs and are either excreted in the stool or develop into infectious filariform larvae. The latter can cause autoinfection of the intestinal mucosa or nearby skin; in addition, if the larvae enter the bloodstream, they can spread throughout the body and lead to disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.² This often fatal progression most commonly occurs in immunosuppressed individuals.³ The mortality rate has been reported to be up to 87%.^2,4  

Fever, abdominal pain, nausea, and diarrhea are clinically common in disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.⁵ Patients also may exhibit dyspnea, cough, wheezing, and hemoptysis.² Cutaneous manifestations are rare and typically include pruritus and petechiae.⁶ Eosinophilia may be present but is not a reliable indicator.¹  

Our patient displayed several risk factors and an early clinical presentation for disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, which evolved over the course of hospitalization. Clues to the diagnosis included an immunosuppressed state; erythematous pruritic macules at presentation that later developed into reticulated petechial patches; and fever, general abdominal symptoms, and dyspnea. However, the patient's overall physical examination findings were subtle and nonspecific. Additionally, the patient did not display the classic larva currens for strongyloidiasis or the pathognomonic periumbilical thumbprint purpura of disseminated infection,^6,7 which may indicate that the latter is a later-stage finding. Although graft-vs-host disease initially was suspected, a third skin biopsy revealed basophilic Strongyloides larvae, extravasated erythrocytes, and mild perivascular inflammation (Figure).

Subsequent gastric aspirates and stool cultures revealed S stercoralis. A bronchoalveolar lavage specimen and serum enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay for Strongyloides antibody were negative. The patient was treated with an extended 16-day course of ivermectin 12 mg daily until gastric aspirates and stool cultures were negative for the parasite. The rash receded by the end of the patient's 32-day hospital stay.  

Because of the high mortality rate of untreated disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, early diagnosis and initiation of anthelmintic treatment is vital in improving patient outcomes. As such, the diagnosis of disseminated strongyloidiasis should be considered in any immunosuppressed patient with multisystemic symptoms and/or petechiae. The differential diagnosis includes graft-vs-host disease, drug-induced urticaria, disseminated intravascular coagulation, and other opportunistic parasites.^6,8,9

The Diagnosis: Disseminated Strongyloidiasis  

Strongyloidiasis is a parasitic infection caused by Strongyloides stercoralis. In the United States it is most prevalent in the Appalachian region. During the filariform larval stage of the parasite's life cycle, larvae from contaminated soil infect the human skin and spread to the intestinal epithelium,¹ then the larvae mature into adult female worms that can produce eggs asexually. Rhabditiform larvae hatch from the eggs and are either excreted in the stool or develop into infectious filariform larvae. The latter can cause autoinfection of the intestinal mucosa or nearby skin; in addition, if the larvae enter the bloodstream, they can spread throughout the body and lead to disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.² This often fatal progression most commonly occurs in immunosuppressed individuals.³ The mortality rate has been reported to be up to 87%.^2,4  

Fever, abdominal pain, nausea, and diarrhea are clinically common in disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome.⁵ Patients also may exhibit dyspnea, cough, wheezing, and hemoptysis.² Cutaneous manifestations are rare and typically include pruritus and petechiae.⁶ Eosinophilia may be present but is not a reliable indicator.¹  

Our patient displayed several risk factors and an early clinical presentation for disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, which evolved over the course of hospitalization. Clues to the diagnosis included an immunosuppressed state; erythematous pruritic macules at presentation that later developed into reticulated petechial patches; and fever, general abdominal symptoms, and dyspnea. However, the patient's overall physical examination findings were subtle and nonspecific. Additionally, the patient did not display the classic larva currens for strongyloidiasis or the pathognomonic periumbilical thumbprint purpura of disseminated infection,^6,7 which may indicate that the latter is a later-stage finding. Although graft-vs-host disease initially was suspected, a third skin biopsy revealed basophilic Strongyloides larvae, extravasated erythrocytes, and mild perivascular inflammation (Figure).

Subsequent gastric aspirates and stool cultures revealed S stercoralis. A bronchoalveolar lavage specimen and serum enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay for Strongyloides antibody were negative. The patient was treated with an extended 16-day course of ivermectin 12 mg daily until gastric aspirates and stool cultures were negative for the parasite. The rash receded by the end of the patient's 32-day hospital stay.  

Because of the high mortality rate of untreated disseminated strongyloidiasis and hyperinfection syndrome, early diagnosis and initiation of anthelmintic treatment is vital in improving patient outcomes. As such, the diagnosis of disseminated strongyloidiasis should be considered in any immunosuppressed patient with multisystemic symptoms and/or petechiae. The differential diagnosis includes graft-vs-host disease, drug-induced urticaria, disseminated intravascular coagulation, and other opportunistic parasites.^6,8,9

What have you been doing since you left the US Public Health Service?

RADM Boris D. Lushniak, MD, MPH. I retired in 2015 and spent a year at the Uniformed Services University for the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Maryland as the Chair of Preventive Medicine and Biostatistics before I took the opportunity to become the Dean of the School of Public Health at the University of Maryland in College Park. I was very intrigued with that position. It’s a large and young school of public health—just 13 years since its inception. And it functions at both the undergraduate and graduate school levels. We have 2,400 undergraduates in 4 different degree paths. The intriguing part of this is the ability to influence a young person’s educational pathway, and for them to look at all the opportunities in public health, and to focus on a mission, which falls into the mission of the US Public Health Service (PHS) Commissioned Corps: Protect, promote and advance the health and safety of our nation.

It has been a very intriguing transition; I have been the Dean there for 3 years. Who would have predicted that things would change drastically in that time, both at the academic level (ie, moving a school from being a normal college environment to an online environment) and now moving into the realm of preparing for the near future of that university in terms of a potential reopening. It is using all of my public health experiences and putting it at that culmination point, which is my community of 52,000 people—40,000 students at the University in College Park, and 12,000 faculty and staff members.

We are responsible for making sure that the return is as safe as possible. With so many unknowns in the world of COVID-19 and so many unpredictable components, it is quite an undertaking to be able to determine for that community of 52,000 whether it’s time to return, and under what circumstances do we return.

In addition, we’re part of a larger community. The University of Maryland in College Park is in Prince George’s County, which is the epicenter of disease and death in Maryland. The School of Public Health is working closely with county authorities. Some of our students are now contact tracers. It’s been interesting to see our faculty, staff, and students standing up as a volunteer support structure for Public Health.

We have incredible research going on at the school. One of my prime research physicians, Don Milton, MD, DrPH, has been studying the transmission of influenza. Now his work is priming on not just influenza, but also COVID-19. Our hope is to establish a community that will be safe and healthy for everyone, and so it’s been an incredible amount of work.

How would you describe the federal/ local public health cooperation?

RADM Lushniak. First and foremost, we have seen a major issue in terms of state and local response to the COVID-19 pandemic. I have to congratulate the state and the local officials for doing as best as they can under the strained circumstances that they’re in.

The first strained circumstance is that local and state health departments have lost nearly a quarter of their workforce: 50,000 jobs across the country since the recession of 2008. Part of the answer why it’s been such a struggle is that our nation as a whole hasn’t looked at public health and hasn’t looked at prevention as a key component of how our country works. We have seen a lack of support at the state and the local level, the shedding of jobs, and the lack of foresight in terms of saying that prevention works and public health is important for our cities, states, regions, and the nation. We need to reemphasize that in terms of public health.

In the State of Maryland, in general, the counties are doing as best as they can under the circumstances. They certainly started out with trying to do as much testing as possible. Testing is a critical component to this response, and obviously, we have a situation nationwide with the testing still trying to be put online to the extent that it needs to be. We need to be able to test more and more individuals to be able to determine the people who are positive. The curve ball that COVID-19 threw us is that 25 to 50% of individuals who may have a positive test may be asymptomatic. So, this isn’t simple. It’s not a matter of just saying, “Okay, you’re sick. You may then have it.” It may be: “Hey, you’re feeling healthy, you still may have it.”

But just as important as testing is what you do with those individuals who are tested. You need to have health departments turning to these individuals and providing them directions of what needs to be done. If one is COVID-19-positive, one goes into isolation for at least 14 days. And if ill, they need to be connected with a medical care system. That’s an important part of the state and local response is making sure the individuals are properly directed to the right pathway.

In addition, contact tracing is critical. The way we’re going to fight COVID-19 is the ability for us to go out there and determine if you are a positive, who did you come in contact with, and did you potentially spread this to others? You need to direct individuals who may have been in contact with the person who is now COVID- 19-positive, saying “You may have to quarantine yourself, watch out for symptoms, and you have to be really careful in the meantime.”

State and local officials took up the burden of making decisions in terms of communicating the directions given to the population. Is stay at home required? Is it the closure of businesses? Is it the wearing of masks? Certainly, the issue of physical distancing plays a role.

All that was implemented at the state and local level. Under the circumstances, it has been done as well as possible, but that now reflects on the issue of the federal response. And the federal response, I’ll admit, has been less than I had hoped for on several realms.

Number one, coordination and direction from the federal level has been rather piecemeal. State and local officials, I think, were waiting for further directions. What did federal officials think; what did they want us to do? State and local officials want independence to implement things, but what’s the right answer? I think this has been not handled well at the highest levels of the US government.

Secondly, obviously, there was an issue with testing, and the responsibility here lays with the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which had problems from the get-go with setting up their testing caches and getting them out. We’re still catching up from there. Now it’s unfolding that the tie in between the federal government and the private sector and academic centers are at least making some headway on that testing front.

Third, people rely on the federal officials not only for action but also for communication. It really boils down to: Who’s in charge, who’s telling me the information that I need to know, who’s honest with me and telling me what they don’t know, and who has the insight to say, “Here’s how we’re going to find out the things that we don’t know?” Who’s there empathizing with the population?

The reality is there’s been a mismatch between the communication channels for the federal government and getting down not just to the state and locals but, also, to the general population in this country.

How would you characterize the US Public Health Service Response?

RADM Lushniak. I’ll first start off with kudos and congratulations to the Commissioned Corps of the PHS for their response to date. I think the latest numbers that ADM Brett Giroir, MD, Assistant Secretary of Health, told Congress in May, was that at the time more than 3,100 of the 6,100 current officers at the PHS have been deployed over the last several months. The reality is that the Commissioned Corps is out there doing service to our nation and to the world. PHS teams were deployed initially to Japan and the Diamond Princess cruise ship. The Corps been out there internationally.

Nationally, the Corps was at the Javits Center in New York assisting in setting up that medical response. They have been assisting at the military bases initially where some of the individuals who were coming in from China and other places were being held in quarantine. They have been assisting with investigations at nursing homes across the country and meat packing plants where there have been outbreaks occurring. The Commissioned Corps has been out there, so that’s the good news.

The bad news is that the Corps is a small uniformed service. The reality is nobody still is seeing the Corps or knows about the Corps as they’re out there doing their thing. It was very nice that ADM Giroir put a plug in for them in his recent congressional testimony. That’s great that our leadership is out there acknowledging the Corps. But to a large extent, I still have an issue with the Commissioned Corps being an underfunded uniformed service of this country. The Commissioned Corps is the only uniformed service in the world whose only mission is public health. But, lack of support reflects the idea of the lack of importance that public health plays in the minds of policy makers.

To a large extent, we have had no dollars in the Corps recently for training of officers to prepare for this. For 10 years we’ve waited for a Ready Reserve to be set up. The Ready Reserve component was part of the Affordable Care Act. I was in the office of the Surgeon General as we were told to ramp this up. Now 10 years later, in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic, Congress finally has passed legislation that sets a pathway for a Ready Reserve.

Why is the Ready Reserve important? In essence, we have incredible public health professionals out there in the civilian ranks who would be willing to assist the Commissioned Corps in their mission, either to backfill critical positions where Corps officers are currently stationed and need to be deployed, or as a Ready Reserve that’s ready to deploy itself. All this is happening right now. I hope for better days, and I hope this COVID-19 pandemic will wake our nation up to the need of a Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, a uniformed service, that's out there doing good.

What lessons are we learning about public health in this pandemic?

RADM Lushniak. We’ve just developed a new space force, the 8th uniformed US service. In reality they are talking about tens of thousands of people assigned to it. Excuse me if I’m going to be assertive. I’m a big fan of space exploration. I realize that space is the final frontier and that perhaps we have to be able to defend our country in that regard. But we’re already saying that space is worth investing in. Where is the wisdom that we’re not investing in battling on this planet against emerging threats like COVID-19? And why is it that to this date the Commissioned Corps of the Public Health Service does not have its own budget; does not have a line item anywhere; does not have money directed for training; and, in essence, only serves because its officers are stationed at other agencies who pay for these officers? It’s a personnel system and not really treated as a key and critical uniformed service of this country. That’s point number one in terms of lessons learned and what needs to be done.

In addition, it’s not just the people in uniform who serve at the federal level, civilians serve as well. These civilians work at the CDC, at the US Food and Drug Administration, at the National Institute of Health, at the Indian Health Service, and at many, many other agencies throughout the US government. Within those realms, we need to show support of those federal practitioners who are working very diligently and in a devoted fashion to fight this pandemic as well. Part of it is the moral support to recognize that there are multiple fronts to fighting this pandemic and the federal practitioner who is working out there, is a key component to this.

I don’t want everything to be money, money, money, but the fact is that CDC’s budget has been decreasing over the years. How are we supposed to set up the laboratories, how are we supposed to demand the high level of expertise when, in fact, everything has to be done on a shoestring?

Finally, we notice public health in the midst of a crisis, but public health matters each and every day. The idea that the pandemic certainly brings to light what needs to get done, but without a pandemic, what do we have? We still have cigarette smoking, the number 1 killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have cardiovascular diseases as an extreme killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have diabetes mellitus that is rampant. We have substance abuse, including the opioid epidemic. Those are public health issues. We have hypertension, we have overweight and obesity. Those are all public health issues that public health battles each and every day without the recognition.

What we need is a major shift in the philosophy of this country to really take the health and wellness of our society as a key component of how you’ll raise that on to a pedestal—the idea that health and wellness is critical to the functioning of this country.

How have recent public health emergencies influenced the Commissioned Corps?

RADM Lushniak. The key feature is that the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps has been growing in its mission over the years. The pre-9/11 Commissioned Corps, was a different life. The post-9/11 world is the first time that the Commissioned Corps really fell into this idea of being America’s public health responders. I think that we ramped it up; we started out strong.

This was shown not only in the World Trade Center and the 9/11 disasters that occurred, but in the anthrax scenario that unfolded shortly afterwards. We saw it further continue in Hurricane Katrina and the multiple hurricane responses.

Then the Ebola response, in my last year of serving in uniform, was another action of both the civilian sector of federal responders as well as the uniformed sector. The beauty of that in terms of what we learned from Ebola was that coordination is key. That was the first time that the PHS worked so closely with the US Department of Defense and our sister services to basically have an international mission unfold with that level of coordination.

We can use those changes that have gone on, the metamorphoses that have happened over the years, as a jumping off point, but they need to be fulfilled with further growth and support of the Commissioned Corps of the US Public Health Service. The numbers are the lowest they’ve been in recent times in terms of active duty officers. That’s not a good thing. As the mission expands, the idea of recruiting and retaining remains a problem. We have to deal with it.

Was your interest in taking the position at the University of Maryland in part to help build the future of public health?

RADM Lushniak. Certainly, I was so excited to be at the University of Maryland College Park exactly for that reason. The undergraduates are coming in from high school and their eyes are wide open. Two things are important at that stage. One is to teach them about the beauty of public health. That it’s a bold and noble mission. As I always tell our students, it’s about the 3 Ps: Promoting health and wellbeing, preventing disease and injury, and prolonging a high quality of life.

When you put all those things together, that’s an incredible mission. I want to tell them at that young age, “Be a part of this, figure out where you fit in.” But it’s not for everyone. I tell my students that one of the major attributes that I need to see in a student is optimism. Public health does not deal well with pessimism. If your character is pessimistic, I actually dissuade you from becoming a public health person because there are a lot of barriers in this incredible bold and noble mission, and optimism needs to be a key feature that keeps us all going.

Next is the realization that there’s so many different public health issues in our world, so many different problems to deal with. I mentioned some of them previously in terms of the public health issues we see each and every day.

Let me talk about one that’s, in particular, shining through in the midst of COVID-19, but also shines through each and every day. That’s the issue of health equity in our communities. A young person, who usually comes in and wants to help their community, needs to realize that part of the battle of public health is to make sure that we deal with the disparities that exist. We must make health equity a key component of our jobs. We are here to serve others.

There’s a saying at the University of Maryland College Park that we’re a “Do good university.” I would say that public health is a do-good profession. It is about compassion, it’s about love, it’s about caring. Those are the types of people that I try to bring into the school, and I try to mentor and support.

What have you been doing since you left the US Public Health Service?

RADM Boris D. Lushniak, MD, MPH. I retired in 2015 and spent a year at the Uniformed Services University for the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Maryland as the Chair of Preventive Medicine and Biostatistics before I took the opportunity to become the Dean of the School of Public Health at the University of Maryland in College Park. I was very intrigued with that position. It’s a large and young school of public health—just 13 years since its inception. And it functions at both the undergraduate and graduate school levels. We have 2,400 undergraduates in 4 different degree paths. The intriguing part of this is the ability to influence a young person’s educational pathway, and for them to look at all the opportunities in public health, and to focus on a mission, which falls into the mission of the US Public Health Service (PHS) Commissioned Corps: Protect, promote and advance the health and safety of our nation.

It has been a very intriguing transition; I have been the Dean there for 3 years. Who would have predicted that things would change drastically in that time, both at the academic level (ie, moving a school from being a normal college environment to an online environment) and now moving into the realm of preparing for the near future of that university in terms of a potential reopening. It is using all of my public health experiences and putting it at that culmination point, which is my community of 52,000 people—40,000 students at the University in College Park, and 12,000 faculty and staff members.

We are responsible for making sure that the return is as safe as possible. With so many unknowns in the world of COVID-19 and so many unpredictable components, it is quite an undertaking to be able to determine for that community of 52,000 whether it’s time to return, and under what circumstances do we return.

In addition, we’re part of a larger community. The University of Maryland in College Park is in Prince George’s County, which is the epicenter of disease and death in Maryland. The School of Public Health is working closely with county authorities. Some of our students are now contact tracers. It’s been interesting to see our faculty, staff, and students standing up as a volunteer support structure for Public Health.

We have incredible research going on at the school. One of my prime research physicians, Don Milton, MD, DrPH, has been studying the transmission of influenza. Now his work is priming on not just influenza, but also COVID-19. Our hope is to establish a community that will be safe and healthy for everyone, and so it’s been an incredible amount of work.

How would you describe the federal/ local public health cooperation?

RADM Lushniak. First and foremost, we have seen a major issue in terms of state and local response to the COVID-19 pandemic. I have to congratulate the state and the local officials for doing as best as they can under the strained circumstances that they’re in.

The first strained circumstance is that local and state health departments have lost nearly a quarter of their workforce: 50,000 jobs across the country since the recession of 2008. Part of the answer why it’s been such a struggle is that our nation as a whole hasn’t looked at public health and hasn’t looked at prevention as a key component of how our country works. We have seen a lack of support at the state and the local level, the shedding of jobs, and the lack of foresight in terms of saying that prevention works and public health is important for our cities, states, regions, and the nation. We need to reemphasize that in terms of public health.

In the State of Maryland, in general, the counties are doing as best as they can under the circumstances. They certainly started out with trying to do as much testing as possible. Testing is a critical component to this response, and obviously, we have a situation nationwide with the testing still trying to be put online to the extent that it needs to be. We need to be able to test more and more individuals to be able to determine the people who are positive. The curve ball that COVID-19 threw us is that 25 to 50% of individuals who may have a positive test may be asymptomatic. So, this isn’t simple. It’s not a matter of just saying, “Okay, you’re sick. You may then have it.” It may be: “Hey, you’re feeling healthy, you still may have it.”

But just as important as testing is what you do with those individuals who are tested. You need to have health departments turning to these individuals and providing them directions of what needs to be done. If one is COVID-19-positive, one goes into isolation for at least 14 days. And if ill, they need to be connected with a medical care system. That’s an important part of the state and local response is making sure the individuals are properly directed to the right pathway.

In addition, contact tracing is critical. The way we’re going to fight COVID-19 is the ability for us to go out there and determine if you are a positive, who did you come in contact with, and did you potentially spread this to others? You need to direct individuals who may have been in contact with the person who is now COVID- 19-positive, saying “You may have to quarantine yourself, watch out for symptoms, and you have to be really careful in the meantime.”

State and local officials took up the burden of making decisions in terms of communicating the directions given to the population. Is stay at home required? Is it the closure of businesses? Is it the wearing of masks? Certainly, the issue of physical distancing plays a role.

All that was implemented at the state and local level. Under the circumstances, it has been done as well as possible, but that now reflects on the issue of the federal response. And the federal response, I’ll admit, has been less than I had hoped for on several realms.

Number one, coordination and direction from the federal level has been rather piecemeal. State and local officials, I think, were waiting for further directions. What did federal officials think; what did they want us to do? State and local officials want independence to implement things, but what’s the right answer? I think this has been not handled well at the highest levels of the US government.

Secondly, obviously, there was an issue with testing, and the responsibility here lays with the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which had problems from the get-go with setting up their testing caches and getting them out. We’re still catching up from there. Now it’s unfolding that the tie in between the federal government and the private sector and academic centers are at least making some headway on that testing front.

Third, people rely on the federal officials not only for action but also for communication. It really boils down to: Who’s in charge, who’s telling me the information that I need to know, who’s honest with me and telling me what they don’t know, and who has the insight to say, “Here’s how we’re going to find out the things that we don’t know?” Who’s there empathizing with the population?

The reality is there’s been a mismatch between the communication channels for the federal government and getting down not just to the state and locals but, also, to the general population in this country.

How would you characterize the US Public Health Service Response?

RADM Lushniak. I’ll first start off with kudos and congratulations to the Commissioned Corps of the PHS for their response to date. I think the latest numbers that ADM Brett Giroir, MD, Assistant Secretary of Health, told Congress in May, was that at the time more than 3,100 of the 6,100 current officers at the PHS have been deployed over the last several months. The reality is that the Commissioned Corps is out there doing service to our nation and to the world. PHS teams were deployed initially to Japan and the Diamond Princess cruise ship. The Corps been out there internationally.

Nationally, the Corps was at the Javits Center in New York assisting in setting up that medical response. They have been assisting at the military bases initially where some of the individuals who were coming in from China and other places were being held in quarantine. They have been assisting with investigations at nursing homes across the country and meat packing plants where there have been outbreaks occurring. The Commissioned Corps has been out there, so that’s the good news.

The bad news is that the Corps is a small uniformed service. The reality is nobody still is seeing the Corps or knows about the Corps as they’re out there doing their thing. It was very nice that ADM Giroir put a plug in for them in his recent congressional testimony. That’s great that our leadership is out there acknowledging the Corps. But to a large extent, I still have an issue with the Commissioned Corps being an underfunded uniformed service of this country. The Commissioned Corps is the only uniformed service in the world whose only mission is public health. But, lack of support reflects the idea of the lack of importance that public health plays in the minds of policy makers.

To a large extent, we have had no dollars in the Corps recently for training of officers to prepare for this. For 10 years we’ve waited for a Ready Reserve to be set up. The Ready Reserve component was part of the Affordable Care Act. I was in the office of the Surgeon General as we were told to ramp this up. Now 10 years later, in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic, Congress finally has passed legislation that sets a pathway for a Ready Reserve.

Why is the Ready Reserve important? In essence, we have incredible public health professionals out there in the civilian ranks who would be willing to assist the Commissioned Corps in their mission, either to backfill critical positions where Corps officers are currently stationed and need to be deployed, or as a Ready Reserve that’s ready to deploy itself. All this is happening right now. I hope for better days, and I hope this COVID-19 pandemic will wake our nation up to the need of a Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, a uniformed service, that's out there doing good.

What lessons are we learning about public health in this pandemic?

RADM Lushniak. We’ve just developed a new space force, the 8th uniformed US service. In reality they are talking about tens of thousands of people assigned to it. Excuse me if I’m going to be assertive. I’m a big fan of space exploration. I realize that space is the final frontier and that perhaps we have to be able to defend our country in that regard. But we’re already saying that space is worth investing in. Where is the wisdom that we’re not investing in battling on this planet against emerging threats like COVID-19? And why is it that to this date the Commissioned Corps of the Public Health Service does not have its own budget; does not have a line item anywhere; does not have money directed for training; and, in essence, only serves because its officers are stationed at other agencies who pay for these officers? It’s a personnel system and not really treated as a key and critical uniformed service of this country. That’s point number one in terms of lessons learned and what needs to be done.

In addition, it’s not just the people in uniform who serve at the federal level, civilians serve as well. These civilians work at the CDC, at the US Food and Drug Administration, at the National Institute of Health, at the Indian Health Service, and at many, many other agencies throughout the US government. Within those realms, we need to show support of those federal practitioners who are working very diligently and in a devoted fashion to fight this pandemic as well. Part of it is the moral support to recognize that there are multiple fronts to fighting this pandemic and the federal practitioner who is working out there, is a key component to this.

I don’t want everything to be money, money, money, but the fact is that CDC’s budget has been decreasing over the years. How are we supposed to set up the laboratories, how are we supposed to demand the high level of expertise when, in fact, everything has to be done on a shoestring?

Finally, we notice public health in the midst of a crisis, but public health matters each and every day. The idea that the pandemic certainly brings to light what needs to get done, but without a pandemic, what do we have? We still have cigarette smoking, the number 1 killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have cardiovascular diseases as an extreme killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have diabetes mellitus that is rampant. We have substance abuse, including the opioid epidemic. Those are public health issues. We have hypertension, we have overweight and obesity. Those are all public health issues that public health battles each and every day without the recognition.

What we need is a major shift in the philosophy of this country to really take the health and wellness of our society as a key component of how you’ll raise that on to a pedestal—the idea that health and wellness is critical to the functioning of this country.

How have recent public health emergencies influenced the Commissioned Corps?

RADM Lushniak. The key feature is that the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps has been growing in its mission over the years. The pre-9/11 Commissioned Corps, was a different life. The post-9/11 world is the first time that the Commissioned Corps really fell into this idea of being America’s public health responders. I think that we ramped it up; we started out strong.

This was shown not only in the World Trade Center and the 9/11 disasters that occurred, but in the anthrax scenario that unfolded shortly afterwards. We saw it further continue in Hurricane Katrina and the multiple hurricane responses.

Then the Ebola response, in my last year of serving in uniform, was another action of both the civilian sector of federal responders as well as the uniformed sector. The beauty of that in terms of what we learned from Ebola was that coordination is key. That was the first time that the PHS worked so closely with the US Department of Defense and our sister services to basically have an international mission unfold with that level of coordination.

We can use those changes that have gone on, the metamorphoses that have happened over the years, as a jumping off point, but they need to be fulfilled with further growth and support of the Commissioned Corps of the US Public Health Service. The numbers are the lowest they’ve been in recent times in terms of active duty officers. That’s not a good thing. As the mission expands, the idea of recruiting and retaining remains a problem. We have to deal with it.

Was your interest in taking the position at the University of Maryland in part to help build the future of public health?

RADM Lushniak. Certainly, I was so excited to be at the University of Maryland College Park exactly for that reason. The undergraduates are coming in from high school and their eyes are wide open. Two things are important at that stage. One is to teach them about the beauty of public health. That it’s a bold and noble mission. As I always tell our students, it’s about the 3 Ps: Promoting health and wellbeing, preventing disease and injury, and prolonging a high quality of life.

When you put all those things together, that’s an incredible mission. I want to tell them at that young age, “Be a part of this, figure out where you fit in.” But it’s not for everyone. I tell my students that one of the major attributes that I need to see in a student is optimism. Public health does not deal well with pessimism. If your character is pessimistic, I actually dissuade you from becoming a public health person because there are a lot of barriers in this incredible bold and noble mission, and optimism needs to be a key feature that keeps us all going.

Next is the realization that there’s so many different public health issues in our world, so many different problems to deal with. I mentioned some of them previously in terms of the public health issues we see each and every day.

Let me talk about one that’s, in particular, shining through in the midst of COVID-19, but also shines through each and every day. That’s the issue of health equity in our communities. A young person, who usually comes in and wants to help their community, needs to realize that part of the battle of public health is to make sure that we deal with the disparities that exist. We must make health equity a key component of our jobs. We are here to serve others.

There’s a saying at the University of Maryland College Park that we’re a “Do good university.” I would say that public health is a do-good profession. It is about compassion, it’s about love, it’s about caring. Those are the types of people that I try to bring into the school, and I try to mentor and support.

What have you been doing since you left the US Public Health Service?

RADM Boris D. Lushniak, MD, MPH. I retired in 2015 and spent a year at the Uniformed Services University for the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Maryland as the Chair of Preventive Medicine and Biostatistics before I took the opportunity to become the Dean of the School of Public Health at the University of Maryland in College Park. I was very intrigued with that position. It’s a large and young school of public health—just 13 years since its inception. And it functions at both the undergraduate and graduate school levels. We have 2,400 undergraduates in 4 different degree paths. The intriguing part of this is the ability to influence a young person’s educational pathway, and for them to look at all the opportunities in public health, and to focus on a mission, which falls into the mission of the US Public Health Service (PHS) Commissioned Corps: Protect, promote and advance the health and safety of our nation.

It has been a very intriguing transition; I have been the Dean there for 3 years. Who would have predicted that things would change drastically in that time, both at the academic level (ie, moving a school from being a normal college environment to an online environment) and now moving into the realm of preparing for the near future of that university in terms of a potential reopening. It is using all of my public health experiences and putting it at that culmination point, which is my community of 52,000 people—40,000 students at the University in College Park, and 12,000 faculty and staff members.

We are responsible for making sure that the return is as safe as possible. With so many unknowns in the world of COVID-19 and so many unpredictable components, it is quite an undertaking to be able to determine for that community of 52,000 whether it’s time to return, and under what circumstances do we return.

In addition, we’re part of a larger community. The University of Maryland in College Park is in Prince George’s County, which is the epicenter of disease and death in Maryland. The School of Public Health is working closely with county authorities. Some of our students are now contact tracers. It’s been interesting to see our faculty, staff, and students standing up as a volunteer support structure for Public Health.

We have incredible research going on at the school. One of my prime research physicians, Don Milton, MD, DrPH, has been studying the transmission of influenza. Now his work is priming on not just influenza, but also COVID-19. Our hope is to establish a community that will be safe and healthy for everyone, and so it’s been an incredible amount of work.

How would you describe the federal/ local public health cooperation?

RADM Lushniak. First and foremost, we have seen a major issue in terms of state and local response to the COVID-19 pandemic. I have to congratulate the state and the local officials for doing as best as they can under the strained circumstances that they’re in.

The first strained circumstance is that local and state health departments have lost nearly a quarter of their workforce: 50,000 jobs across the country since the recession of 2008. Part of the answer why it’s been such a struggle is that our nation as a whole hasn’t looked at public health and hasn’t looked at prevention as a key component of how our country works. We have seen a lack of support at the state and the local level, the shedding of jobs, and the lack of foresight in terms of saying that prevention works and public health is important for our cities, states, regions, and the nation. We need to reemphasize that in terms of public health.

In the State of Maryland, in general, the counties are doing as best as they can under the circumstances. They certainly started out with trying to do as much testing as possible. Testing is a critical component to this response, and obviously, we have a situation nationwide with the testing still trying to be put online to the extent that it needs to be. We need to be able to test more and more individuals to be able to determine the people who are positive. The curve ball that COVID-19 threw us is that 25 to 50% of individuals who may have a positive test may be asymptomatic. So, this isn’t simple. It’s not a matter of just saying, “Okay, you’re sick. You may then have it.” It may be: “Hey, you’re feeling healthy, you still may have it.”

But just as important as testing is what you do with those individuals who are tested. You need to have health departments turning to these individuals and providing them directions of what needs to be done. If one is COVID-19-positive, one goes into isolation for at least 14 days. And if ill, they need to be connected with a medical care system. That’s an important part of the state and local response is making sure the individuals are properly directed to the right pathway.

In addition, contact tracing is critical. The way we’re going to fight COVID-19 is the ability for us to go out there and determine if you are a positive, who did you come in contact with, and did you potentially spread this to others? You need to direct individuals who may have been in contact with the person who is now COVID- 19-positive, saying “You may have to quarantine yourself, watch out for symptoms, and you have to be really careful in the meantime.”

State and local officials took up the burden of making decisions in terms of communicating the directions given to the population. Is stay at home required? Is it the closure of businesses? Is it the wearing of masks? Certainly, the issue of physical distancing plays a role.

All that was implemented at the state and local level. Under the circumstances, it has been done as well as possible, but that now reflects on the issue of the federal response. And the federal response, I’ll admit, has been less than I had hoped for on several realms.

Number one, coordination and direction from the federal level has been rather piecemeal. State and local officials, I think, were waiting for further directions. What did federal officials think; what did they want us to do? State and local officials want independence to implement things, but what’s the right answer? I think this has been not handled well at the highest levels of the US government.

Secondly, obviously, there was an issue with testing, and the responsibility here lays with the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which had problems from the get-go with setting up their testing caches and getting them out. We’re still catching up from there. Now it’s unfolding that the tie in between the federal government and the private sector and academic centers are at least making some headway on that testing front.

Third, people rely on the federal officials not only for action but also for communication. It really boils down to: Who’s in charge, who’s telling me the information that I need to know, who’s honest with me and telling me what they don’t know, and who has the insight to say, “Here’s how we’re going to find out the things that we don’t know?” Who’s there empathizing with the population?

The reality is there’s been a mismatch between the communication channels for the federal government and getting down not just to the state and locals but, also, to the general population in this country.

How would you characterize the US Public Health Service Response?

RADM Lushniak. I’ll first start off with kudos and congratulations to the Commissioned Corps of the PHS for their response to date. I think the latest numbers that ADM Brett Giroir, MD, Assistant Secretary of Health, told Congress in May, was that at the time more than 3,100 of the 6,100 current officers at the PHS have been deployed over the last several months. The reality is that the Commissioned Corps is out there doing service to our nation and to the world. PHS teams were deployed initially to Japan and the Diamond Princess cruise ship. The Corps been out there internationally.

Nationally, the Corps was at the Javits Center in New York assisting in setting up that medical response. They have been assisting at the military bases initially where some of the individuals who were coming in from China and other places were being held in quarantine. They have been assisting with investigations at nursing homes across the country and meat packing plants where there have been outbreaks occurring. The Commissioned Corps has been out there, so that’s the good news.

The bad news is that the Corps is a small uniformed service. The reality is nobody still is seeing the Corps or knows about the Corps as they’re out there doing their thing. It was very nice that ADM Giroir put a plug in for them in his recent congressional testimony. That’s great that our leadership is out there acknowledging the Corps. But to a large extent, I still have an issue with the Commissioned Corps being an underfunded uniformed service of this country. The Commissioned Corps is the only uniformed service in the world whose only mission is public health. But, lack of support reflects the idea of the lack of importance that public health plays in the minds of policy makers.

To a large extent, we have had no dollars in the Corps recently for training of officers to prepare for this. For 10 years we’ve waited for a Ready Reserve to be set up. The Ready Reserve component was part of the Affordable Care Act. I was in the office of the Surgeon General as we were told to ramp this up. Now 10 years later, in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic, Congress finally has passed legislation that sets a pathway for a Ready Reserve.

Why is the Ready Reserve important? In essence, we have incredible public health professionals out there in the civilian ranks who would be willing to assist the Commissioned Corps in their mission, either to backfill critical positions where Corps officers are currently stationed and need to be deployed, or as a Ready Reserve that’s ready to deploy itself. All this is happening right now. I hope for better days, and I hope this COVID-19 pandemic will wake our nation up to the need of a Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, a uniformed service, that's out there doing good.

What lessons are we learning about public health in this pandemic?

RADM Lushniak. We’ve just developed a new space force, the 8th uniformed US service. In reality they are talking about tens of thousands of people assigned to it. Excuse me if I’m going to be assertive. I’m a big fan of space exploration. I realize that space is the final frontier and that perhaps we have to be able to defend our country in that regard. But we’re already saying that space is worth investing in. Where is the wisdom that we’re not investing in battling on this planet against emerging threats like COVID-19? And why is it that to this date the Commissioned Corps of the Public Health Service does not have its own budget; does not have a line item anywhere; does not have money directed for training; and, in essence, only serves because its officers are stationed at other agencies who pay for these officers? It’s a personnel system and not really treated as a key and critical uniformed service of this country. That’s point number one in terms of lessons learned and what needs to be done.

In addition, it’s not just the people in uniform who serve at the federal level, civilians serve as well. These civilians work at the CDC, at the US Food and Drug Administration, at the National Institute of Health, at the Indian Health Service, and at many, many other agencies throughout the US government. Within those realms, we need to show support of those federal practitioners who are working very diligently and in a devoted fashion to fight this pandemic as well. Part of it is the moral support to recognize that there are multiple fronts to fighting this pandemic and the federal practitioner who is working out there, is a key component to this.

I don’t want everything to be money, money, money, but the fact is that CDC’s budget has been decreasing over the years. How are we supposed to set up the laboratories, how are we supposed to demand the high level of expertise when, in fact, everything has to be done on a shoestring?

Finally, we notice public health in the midst of a crisis, but public health matters each and every day. The idea that the pandemic certainly brings to light what needs to get done, but without a pandemic, what do we have? We still have cigarette smoking, the number 1 killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have cardiovascular diseases as an extreme killer in this country. That’s a public health issue. We have diabetes mellitus that is rampant. We have substance abuse, including the opioid epidemic. Those are public health issues. We have hypertension, we have overweight and obesity. Those are all public health issues that public health battles each and every day without the recognition.

What we need is a major shift in the philosophy of this country to really take the health and wellness of our society as a key component of how you’ll raise that on to a pedestal—the idea that health and wellness is critical to the functioning of this country.

How have recent public health emergencies influenced the Commissioned Corps?

RADM Lushniak. The key feature is that the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps has been growing in its mission over the years. The pre-9/11 Commissioned Corps, was a different life. The post-9/11 world is the first time that the Commissioned Corps really fell into this idea of being America’s public health responders. I think that we ramped it up; we started out strong.

This was shown not only in the World Trade Center and the 9/11 disasters that occurred, but in the anthrax scenario that unfolded shortly afterwards. We saw it further continue in Hurricane Katrina and the multiple hurricane responses.

Then the Ebola response, in my last year of serving in uniform, was another action of both the civilian sector of federal responders as well as the uniformed sector. The beauty of that in terms of what we learned from Ebola was that coordination is key. That was the first time that the PHS worked so closely with the US Department of Defense and our sister services to basically have an international mission unfold with that level of coordination.

We can use those changes that have gone on, the metamorphoses that have happened over the years, as a jumping off point, but they need to be fulfilled with further growth and support of the Commissioned Corps of the US Public Health Service. The numbers are the lowest they’ve been in recent times in terms of active duty officers. That’s not a good thing. As the mission expands, the idea of recruiting and retaining remains a problem. We have to deal with it.

Was your interest in taking the position at the University of Maryland in part to help build the future of public health?

RADM Lushniak. Certainly, I was so excited to be at the University of Maryland College Park exactly for that reason. The undergraduates are coming in from high school and their eyes are wide open. Two things are important at that stage. One is to teach them about the beauty of public health. That it’s a bold and noble mission. As I always tell our students, it’s about the 3 Ps: Promoting health and wellbeing, preventing disease and injury, and prolonging a high quality of life.

When you put all those things together, that’s an incredible mission. I want to tell them at that young age, “Be a part of this, figure out where you fit in.” But it’s not for everyone. I tell my students that one of the major attributes that I need to see in a student is optimism. Public health does not deal well with pessimism. If your character is pessimistic, I actually dissuade you from becoming a public health person because there are a lot of barriers in this incredible bold and noble mission, and optimism needs to be a key feature that keeps us all going.

Next is the realization that there’s so many different public health issues in our world, so many different problems to deal with. I mentioned some of them previously in terms of the public health issues we see each and every day.

Let me talk about one that’s, in particular, shining through in the midst of COVID-19, but also shines through each and every day. That’s the issue of health equity in our communities. A young person, who usually comes in and wants to help their community, needs to realize that part of the battle of public health is to make sure that we deal with the disparities that exist. We must make health equity a key component of our jobs. We are here to serve others.

There’s a saying at the University of Maryland College Park that we’re a “Do good university.” I would say that public health is a do-good profession. It is about compassion, it’s about love, it’s about caring. Those are the types of people that I try to bring into the school, and I try to mentor and support.