Jillian Mock

When Annie Uhing, MD, is stressed about work, she can call her mom. She and her mom are close, yes, but her mom is also a physician and understands the ups and downs of medical education and the unique challenges of being a woman in medicine.

“My mom and I were talking about this the other day – I don’t think we know any other mother-daughter pairs of doctors,” said Dr. Uhing.

Courtesy Dr. Charlene Gaebler-Uhing

In the United States, the number of female physicians has risen steadily since the mid- and late-20th century. As of 2019, women made up more than half of medical school classes across the country and 36.3% of the physician workforce.

Still, most female physicians are concentrated in a handful of specialties (such as pediatrics and obstetrics and gynecology) while the percentages of women in other areas remains extremely low (urology and orthopedic surgery). Many female physicians share anecdotal stories about not being taken seriously, like when a patient mistook them for a nurse, or preferred the advice of a male colleague to their own.

To celebrate International Women’s Day, this news organization talked to two families of female doctors about their experiences in medicine and how they inspire and support one another inside and outside the hospital.
 

Deborah, Charlene, and Annie

When Deborah Gaebler-Spira, MD, started medical school at the University of Illinois in 1975, women made up just 15% of her class. “For me, the idea that as a woman you could have a vocation that could be quite meaningful and self-directed – that was very important,” said Dr. Gaebler-Spira, now a pediatric rehabilitation physician at the Shirley Ryan Ability Lab and professor at Northwestern University in Chicago.

She blocked out a lot of discouragement along the way. In undergrad, the dean of the college warned Dr. Gaebler-Spira she’d never make it as a doctor. In medical school interviews, administrators could be hostile. “There was this feeling that you were taking a place of someone who really deserved it,” she said. When selecting a residency, Dr. Gaebler-Spira decided against a career in obstetrics because of the overt misogyny in the field at the time.

Instead, she went into pediatrics and physical medicine and rehabilitation, eventually working to become an expert in cerebral palsy. Along the way, Dr. Gaebler-Spira made lifelong friends with other female physicians and found strong female mentors, including Billie Adams, MD, and Helen Emery, MD.

When her sister, Charlene Gaebler-Uhing, MD, also decided to go into medicine, Dr. Gaebler-Spira said she “thought it was a sign of sanity as she was always much more competitive than I was! And if I could do it, no question she was able!”

Dr. Gaebler-Uhing, now an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Wisconsin in Milwaukee, followed her older sister’s footsteps to medical school in 1983, after first considering a career in social work.

While there were now more women going into medicine – her medical school class was about 25% women – problems persisted. During clinical rotations in residency, Dr. Gaebler-Uhing was often the only woman on a team and made the conscious decision to go professionally by her nickname, Charlie. “If a woman’s name was on the consult, her opinion and insights did not get the same value or respect as a male physician’s,” she said. “The only way they knew I was a woman was if they really knew me.”

The Gaebler sisters leaned on each other professionally and personally throughout their careers. When both sisters practiced in Chicago, they referred patients to one another. And Dr. Gaebler-Uhing said her older sister was a great role model for how to balance the dual roles of physician and parent, as few of the older female doctors who trained her were married or had a child.

Now Dr. Gaebler-Uhing’s daughter, Annie Uhing, MD, is entering medicine herself. She is currently pediatric resident at the University of Wisconsin American Family Hospital. She plans to do a chief year and then a pediatric endocrinology fellowship.

Growing up, Dr. Uhing wasn’t always sure she wanted to work as much as her parents, who are both doctors. But her mom provided a great example few of her friends had at home: “If you want to work, you should work and do what you want to do and it’s not wrong to want to have a really high-powered job as a woman,” said Dr. Uhing.

 

Kathryn, Susan, and Rita

The three sisters Kathryn Hudson, MD, Susan Schmidt, MD, and Rita Butler, MD, were inspired to go into medicine by their mother, Rita Watson, MD, who was one of the first female interventional cardiologists in the United States.

“I think we had a front row seat to what being a doctor was like,” said Dr. Hudson, a hematologist and oncologist and director of survivorship at Texas Oncology in Austin. Both parents were MDs – their dad was a pharmaceutical researcher at Merck – and they would excitedly discuss patient cases and drug development at the dinner table, said Dr. Butler, an interventional cardiology fellow at the Lankenau Heart Institute in Wynnewood, Pa.

All three sisters have vivid memories of ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day’ at their mom’s hospital. “I remember going to Take Your Daughter to Work Day with her and watching her in action and thinking, oh my gosh, my mom is so cool and I want to be like her,” said Dr. Schmidt, a pediatric critical care specialist at St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia. “I’ve always felt special that my mom was doing something really cool and really saving lives,” said Dr. Schmidt.

Their fourth sibling, John, isn’t a physician and “I honestly wonder if it’s because he never went to Take Your Daughter to Work Day!” said Dr. Butler.

Having a mother who had both a high-powered medical career and a family helped the three women know they could do the same. “It is a difficult journey, don’t get me wrong, but I never questioned that I could do it because my mom did it first,” said Dr. Hudson.

As adults, the sisters confide in one another as they navigate modern motherhood and careers, switching between discussing medical cases and parenting advice.

As hard as their mom worked while they were growing up, she didn’t have the pressure of living up to the “super mom” ideal we have now, said Dr. Butler. “Everyone wants women to work like they don’t have kids and everyone wants women to parent like they don’t have a job,” she said. Having two sisters who can provide reassurance and advice in that area goes a long way, she said.

“I think sharing that experience of navigating motherhood, a medical career, and marriage, and adult life with sisters who are going through all the same things is really special and I feel really fortunate for that,” said Dr. Schmidt.

*This story was updated on 3/8/2022.

When Annie Uhing, MD, is stressed about work, she can call her mom. She and her mom are close, yes, but her mom is also a physician and understands the ups and downs of medical education and the unique challenges of being a woman in medicine.

“My mom and I were talking about this the other day – I don’t think we know any other mother-daughter pairs of doctors,” said Dr. Uhing.

Courtesy Dr. Charlene Gaebler-Uhing

In the United States, the number of female physicians has risen steadily since the mid- and late-20th century. As of 2019, women made up more than half of medical school classes across the country and 36.3% of the physician workforce.

Still, most female physicians are concentrated in a handful of specialties (such as pediatrics and obstetrics and gynecology) while the percentages of women in other areas remains extremely low (urology and orthopedic surgery). Many female physicians share anecdotal stories about not being taken seriously, like when a patient mistook them for a nurse, or preferred the advice of a male colleague to their own.

To celebrate International Women’s Day, this news organization talked to two families of female doctors about their experiences in medicine and how they inspire and support one another inside and outside the hospital.
 

Deborah, Charlene, and Annie

When Deborah Gaebler-Spira, MD, started medical school at the University of Illinois in 1975, women made up just 15% of her class. “For me, the idea that as a woman you could have a vocation that could be quite meaningful and self-directed – that was very important,” said Dr. Gaebler-Spira, now a pediatric rehabilitation physician at the Shirley Ryan Ability Lab and professor at Northwestern University in Chicago.

She blocked out a lot of discouragement along the way. In undergrad, the dean of the college warned Dr. Gaebler-Spira she’d never make it as a doctor. In medical school interviews, administrators could be hostile. “There was this feeling that you were taking a place of someone who really deserved it,” she said. When selecting a residency, Dr. Gaebler-Spira decided against a career in obstetrics because of the overt misogyny in the field at the time.

Instead, she went into pediatrics and physical medicine and rehabilitation, eventually working to become an expert in cerebral palsy. Along the way, Dr. Gaebler-Spira made lifelong friends with other female physicians and found strong female mentors, including Billie Adams, MD, and Helen Emery, MD.

When her sister, Charlene Gaebler-Uhing, MD, also decided to go into medicine, Dr. Gaebler-Spira said she “thought it was a sign of sanity as she was always much more competitive than I was! And if I could do it, no question she was able!”

Dr. Gaebler-Uhing, now an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Wisconsin in Milwaukee, followed her older sister’s footsteps to medical school in 1983, after first considering a career in social work.

While there were now more women going into medicine – her medical school class was about 25% women – problems persisted. During clinical rotations in residency, Dr. Gaebler-Uhing was often the only woman on a team and made the conscious decision to go professionally by her nickname, Charlie. “If a woman’s name was on the consult, her opinion and insights did not get the same value or respect as a male physician’s,” she said. “The only way they knew I was a woman was if they really knew me.”

The Gaebler sisters leaned on each other professionally and personally throughout their careers. When both sisters practiced in Chicago, they referred patients to one another. And Dr. Gaebler-Uhing said her older sister was a great role model for how to balance the dual roles of physician and parent, as few of the older female doctors who trained her were married or had a child.

Now Dr. Gaebler-Uhing’s daughter, Annie Uhing, MD, is entering medicine herself. She is currently pediatric resident at the University of Wisconsin American Family Hospital. She plans to do a chief year and then a pediatric endocrinology fellowship.

Growing up, Dr. Uhing wasn’t always sure she wanted to work as much as her parents, who are both doctors. But her mom provided a great example few of her friends had at home: “If you want to work, you should work and do what you want to do and it’s not wrong to want to have a really high-powered job as a woman,” said Dr. Uhing.

 

Kathryn, Susan, and Rita

The three sisters Kathryn Hudson, MD, Susan Schmidt, MD, and Rita Butler, MD, were inspired to go into medicine by their mother, Rita Watson, MD, who was one of the first female interventional cardiologists in the United States.

“I think we had a front row seat to what being a doctor was like,” said Dr. Hudson, a hematologist and oncologist and director of survivorship at Texas Oncology in Austin. Both parents were MDs – their dad was a pharmaceutical researcher at Merck – and they would excitedly discuss patient cases and drug development at the dinner table, said Dr. Butler, an interventional cardiology fellow at the Lankenau Heart Institute in Wynnewood, Pa.

All three sisters have vivid memories of ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day’ at their mom’s hospital. “I remember going to Take Your Daughter to Work Day with her and watching her in action and thinking, oh my gosh, my mom is so cool and I want to be like her,” said Dr. Schmidt, a pediatric critical care specialist at St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia. “I’ve always felt special that my mom was doing something really cool and really saving lives,” said Dr. Schmidt.

Their fourth sibling, John, isn’t a physician and “I honestly wonder if it’s because he never went to Take Your Daughter to Work Day!” said Dr. Butler.

Having a mother who had both a high-powered medical career and a family helped the three women know they could do the same. “It is a difficult journey, don’t get me wrong, but I never questioned that I could do it because my mom did it first,” said Dr. Hudson.

As adults, the sisters confide in one another as they navigate modern motherhood and careers, switching between discussing medical cases and parenting advice.

As hard as their mom worked while they were growing up, she didn’t have the pressure of living up to the “super mom” ideal we have now, said Dr. Butler. “Everyone wants women to work like they don’t have kids and everyone wants women to parent like they don’t have a job,” she said. Having two sisters who can provide reassurance and advice in that area goes a long way, she said.

“I think sharing that experience of navigating motherhood, a medical career, and marriage, and adult life with sisters who are going through all the same things is really special and I feel really fortunate for that,” said Dr. Schmidt.

*This story was updated on 3/8/2022.

When Annie Uhing, MD, is stressed about work, she can call her mom. She and her mom are close, yes, but her mom is also a physician and understands the ups and downs of medical education and the unique challenges of being a woman in medicine.

“My mom and I were talking about this the other day – I don’t think we know any other mother-daughter pairs of doctors,” said Dr. Uhing.

Courtesy Dr. Charlene Gaebler-Uhing

In the United States, the number of female physicians has risen steadily since the mid- and late-20th century. As of 2019, women made up more than half of medical school classes across the country and 36.3% of the physician workforce.

Still, most female physicians are concentrated in a handful of specialties (such as pediatrics and obstetrics and gynecology) while the percentages of women in other areas remains extremely low (urology and orthopedic surgery). Many female physicians share anecdotal stories about not being taken seriously, like when a patient mistook them for a nurse, or preferred the advice of a male colleague to their own.

To celebrate International Women’s Day, this news organization talked to two families of female doctors about their experiences in medicine and how they inspire and support one another inside and outside the hospital.
 

Deborah, Charlene, and Annie

When Deborah Gaebler-Spira, MD, started medical school at the University of Illinois in 1975, women made up just 15% of her class. “For me, the idea that as a woman you could have a vocation that could be quite meaningful and self-directed – that was very important,” said Dr. Gaebler-Spira, now a pediatric rehabilitation physician at the Shirley Ryan Ability Lab and professor at Northwestern University in Chicago.

She blocked out a lot of discouragement along the way. In undergrad, the dean of the college warned Dr. Gaebler-Spira she’d never make it as a doctor. In medical school interviews, administrators could be hostile. “There was this feeling that you were taking a place of someone who really deserved it,” she said. When selecting a residency, Dr. Gaebler-Spira decided against a career in obstetrics because of the overt misogyny in the field at the time.

Instead, she went into pediatrics and physical medicine and rehabilitation, eventually working to become an expert in cerebral palsy. Along the way, Dr. Gaebler-Spira made lifelong friends with other female physicians and found strong female mentors, including Billie Adams, MD, and Helen Emery, MD.

When her sister, Charlene Gaebler-Uhing, MD, also decided to go into medicine, Dr. Gaebler-Spira said she “thought it was a sign of sanity as she was always much more competitive than I was! And if I could do it, no question she was able!”

Dr. Gaebler-Uhing, now an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Wisconsin in Milwaukee, followed her older sister’s footsteps to medical school in 1983, after first considering a career in social work.

While there were now more women going into medicine – her medical school class was about 25% women – problems persisted. During clinical rotations in residency, Dr. Gaebler-Uhing was often the only woman on a team and made the conscious decision to go professionally by her nickname, Charlie. “If a woman’s name was on the consult, her opinion and insights did not get the same value or respect as a male physician’s,” she said. “The only way they knew I was a woman was if they really knew me.”

The Gaebler sisters leaned on each other professionally and personally throughout their careers. When both sisters practiced in Chicago, they referred patients to one another. And Dr. Gaebler-Uhing said her older sister was a great role model for how to balance the dual roles of physician and parent, as few of the older female doctors who trained her were married or had a child.

Now Dr. Gaebler-Uhing’s daughter, Annie Uhing, MD, is entering medicine herself. She is currently pediatric resident at the University of Wisconsin American Family Hospital. She plans to do a chief year and then a pediatric endocrinology fellowship.

Growing up, Dr. Uhing wasn’t always sure she wanted to work as much as her parents, who are both doctors. But her mom provided a great example few of her friends had at home: “If you want to work, you should work and do what you want to do and it’s not wrong to want to have a really high-powered job as a woman,” said Dr. Uhing.

 

Kathryn, Susan, and Rita

The three sisters Kathryn Hudson, MD, Susan Schmidt, MD, and Rita Butler, MD, were inspired to go into medicine by their mother, Rita Watson, MD, who was one of the first female interventional cardiologists in the United States.

“I think we had a front row seat to what being a doctor was like,” said Dr. Hudson, a hematologist and oncologist and director of survivorship at Texas Oncology in Austin. Both parents were MDs – their dad was a pharmaceutical researcher at Merck – and they would excitedly discuss patient cases and drug development at the dinner table, said Dr. Butler, an interventional cardiology fellow at the Lankenau Heart Institute in Wynnewood, Pa.

All three sisters have vivid memories of ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day’ at their mom’s hospital. “I remember going to Take Your Daughter to Work Day with her and watching her in action and thinking, oh my gosh, my mom is so cool and I want to be like her,” said Dr. Schmidt, a pediatric critical care specialist at St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia. “I’ve always felt special that my mom was doing something really cool and really saving lives,” said Dr. Schmidt.

Their fourth sibling, John, isn’t a physician and “I honestly wonder if it’s because he never went to Take Your Daughter to Work Day!” said Dr. Butler.

Having a mother who had both a high-powered medical career and a family helped the three women know they could do the same. “It is a difficult journey, don’t get me wrong, but I never questioned that I could do it because my mom did it first,” said Dr. Hudson.

As adults, the sisters confide in one another as they navigate modern motherhood and careers, switching between discussing medical cases and parenting advice.

As hard as their mom worked while they were growing up, she didn’t have the pressure of living up to the “super mom” ideal we have now, said Dr. Butler. “Everyone wants women to work like they don’t have kids and everyone wants women to parent like they don’t have a job,” she said. Having two sisters who can provide reassurance and advice in that area goes a long way, she said.

“I think sharing that experience of navigating motherhood, a medical career, and marriage, and adult life with sisters who are going through all the same things is really special and I feel really fortunate for that,” said Dr. Schmidt.

*This story was updated on 3/8/2022.

For many adolescents, the first visit to a gynecologist can be intimidating. The prospect of meeting a new doctor who will ask prying, deeply personal questions about sex and menstruation is scary. And, in all likelihood, a parent, older sibling, or friend has warned them about the notorious pelvic exam.

The exact timing of when adolescent patients should start seeing a gynecologist varies based on when a patient starts puberty. Primary care physicians and pediatricians can help teens transition by referring patients to an adolescent-friendly practice and clearing up some of the misconceptions that surround the first gynecology visit. Gynecologists, on the other side of the referral, can help patients transition by guaranteeing confidentiality and creating a safe space for young patients.

This news organization interviewed three experts in adolescent health about when teens should start having their gynecological needs addressed and how their physicians can help them undergo that transition.
 

Age-appropriate care

“Most people get very limited information about their reproductive health,” said Anne-Marie E. Amies Oelschlager, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Seattle Children’s, Seattle, and a member of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) clinical consensus committee on gynecology.

Official guidelines from ACOG call for the initial reproductive health visit to take place between the ages of 13 and 15 years. The exact age may vary, however, depending on the specific needs of the patient.

For example, some patients begin menstruating early, at age 9 or 10, said Mary Romano, MD, MPH, a pediatrician and adolescent medicine specialist at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital, Nashville, Tenn. Pediatricians who are uncomfortable educating young patients about menstruation should refer the patient to a gynecologist or a pediatric gynecologist for whom such discussions are routine.

If a patient does not have a menstrual cycle by age 14 or 15, that also should be addressed by a family physician or gynecologist, Dr. Romano added.

“The importance here is addressing the reproductive health of the teen starting really at the age of 10 or 12, or once puberty starts,” said Patricia S. Huguelet, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Children’s Hospital Colorado, Aurora. In those early visits, the physician can provide “anticipatory guidance,” counseling the teen on what is normal in terms of menstruation, sex, and relationships, and addressing what is not, she said.

Ideally, patients who were designated female at birth but now identify as male or nonbinary will meet with a gynecologist early on in the gender affirmation process and a gynecologist will continue to consult as part of the patient’s interdisciplinary care team, added Dr. Romano, who counsels LGBTQ+ youth as part of her practice. A gynecologist may support these patients in myriad ways, including helping those who are considering or using puberty blockers and providing reproductive and health education to patients in a way that is sensitive to the patient’s gender identity.
 

Patient referrals

Some pediatricians and family practice physicians may be talking with their patients about topics such as menstrual cycles and contraception. But those who are uncomfortable asking adolescent patients about their reproductive and sexual health should refer them to a gynecologist or specialist in adolescent medicine, Dr. Romano advised.

“The biggest benefit I’ve noticed is often [patients] come from a pediatrician or family medicine provider and they often appreciate the opportunity to talk to a doctor they haven’t met before about the more personal questions they may have,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Referring adolescents to a specialist who has either trained in adolescent medicine or has experience treating that age group has benefits, Dr. Romano said. Clinicians with that experience understand adolescents are not “mini-adults” but have unique developmental and medical issues. How to counsel and educate them carries unique challenges, she said.

For example, heavy menstrual bleeding is a leading reason a patient – either an adult or an adolescent – presents to a gynecologist, Dr. Huguelet said. But the pathology differs vastly for those two age groups. For patients in their 30s and 40s, polyps and fibroids are common problems associated with heavy bleeding. Those conditions are rare in adolescents, whereas bleeding disorders are common, she said.

Most patients will continue to see their pediatricians and primary care providers for other issues. And in some areas, gynecologists can reinforce advice from pediatricians, such as encouraging patients to get the HPV vaccine, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.
 

Common misconceptions

Primary care physicians can also dispel common misconceptions teens – and their parents – have about gynecology. Some parents may believe that certain methods of birth control cause cancer or infertility, have concerns about the HPV vaccine, or think hormonal therapies are harmful, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. But the biggest misconception involves the infamous pelvic exam.

“Lots of patients assume that every time they go to the gynecologist they are going to have a pelvic exam,” she said. “When I say, ‘We don’t have to do that,’ they are so relieved.”

Guidelines have changed since the parents of today’s teens were going to the gynecologist for the first time. Many patients now do not need an initial Pap smear until age 25, following a recent guideline change by the American Cancer Society. (ACOG is considering adopting the same stance but still recommends screening start at 21.) “Most patients do not need an exam, even when it comes to sexual health and screening [for sexually transmitted infections], that can be done without an exam,” Dr. Huguelet said.
 

Confidentiality and comfort

On the other side of the referral, gynecologists should follow several best practices to treat adolescent patients. Arguably the most important part of the initial gynecologic visit is to give patients the option of one-on-one time with the physician with no parent in the room. During that time, the physician should make it clear that what they discuss is confidential and will not be shared with their parent or guardian, Dr. Huguelet said. Patients should also have the option of having a friend or another nonparent individual in the room with them during this one-on-one time with the physician, particularly if the patient does not feel comfortable discussing sensitive subjects completely on her own.

Adolescents receive better care, disclose more, and perceive they are getting better care when the process is confidential, Dr. Romano said. Confidentiality does have limits, however, which physicians should also make sure their patients understand, according to the ACOG guidelines for the initial reproductive visit. These limitations can vary by state depending on issues related to mandatory reporting, insurance billing, and legal requirements of patient notifications of specific services such as abortion.

The use of electronic medical records has raised additional challenges when it comes to communicating privately with adolescent patients, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. In her practice, she tries to ensure the adolescent is the one with the login information for their records. If not, her office will have the patient’s cell number to text or call securely.

“We feel strongly adolescents should be able to access reproductive health care, mental health care, and care for substance abuse disorders without parental notification,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Telehealth visits can also be helpful for adolescents coming to gynecology for the first time. And taking the time to establish a rapport with patients at the start of the visit is key, Dr. Huguelet said. By directing questions to the adolescent patient rather than the parent, Dr. Huguelet said, the physician demonstrates that the teen’s treatment needs come first.

ACOG has guidelines on other steps gynecology practices, including those that see both adults and teens, can take to make their offices and visits adolescent-friendly. These steps include asking patients about their preferred names and pronouns at the start of the visit or as part of the initial intake form, training office staff to be comfortable with issues related to adolescent sexuality and gender and sexual diversity among patients, providing a place for teens to wait separately from obstetrics patients, and having age-appropriate literature on hand for adolescents to learn about reproductive health.

After that first reproductive health visit, gynecologists and primary care providers should partner to ensure the whole health of their patients is being addressed, Dr. Huguelet said.

“Collaboration is always going to better serve patients in any area,” said Dr. Romano, “and certainly this area is no different.”

Dr. Amies Oelschlager, Dr. Romano, and Dr. Huguelet have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

For many adolescents, the first visit to a gynecologist can be intimidating. The prospect of meeting a new doctor who will ask prying, deeply personal questions about sex and menstruation is scary. And, in all likelihood, a parent, older sibling, or friend has warned them about the notorious pelvic exam.

The exact timing of when adolescent patients should start seeing a gynecologist varies based on when a patient starts puberty. Primary care physicians and pediatricians can help teens transition by referring patients to an adolescent-friendly practice and clearing up some of the misconceptions that surround the first gynecology visit. Gynecologists, on the other side of the referral, can help patients transition by guaranteeing confidentiality and creating a safe space for young patients.

This news organization interviewed three experts in adolescent health about when teens should start having their gynecological needs addressed and how their physicians can help them undergo that transition.
 

Age-appropriate care

“Most people get very limited information about their reproductive health,” said Anne-Marie E. Amies Oelschlager, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Seattle Children’s, Seattle, and a member of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) clinical consensus committee on gynecology.

Official guidelines from ACOG call for the initial reproductive health visit to take place between the ages of 13 and 15 years. The exact age may vary, however, depending on the specific needs of the patient.

For example, some patients begin menstruating early, at age 9 or 10, said Mary Romano, MD, MPH, a pediatrician and adolescent medicine specialist at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital, Nashville, Tenn. Pediatricians who are uncomfortable educating young patients about menstruation should refer the patient to a gynecologist or a pediatric gynecologist for whom such discussions are routine.

If a patient does not have a menstrual cycle by age 14 or 15, that also should be addressed by a family physician or gynecologist, Dr. Romano added.

“The importance here is addressing the reproductive health of the teen starting really at the age of 10 or 12, or once puberty starts,” said Patricia S. Huguelet, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Children’s Hospital Colorado, Aurora. In those early visits, the physician can provide “anticipatory guidance,” counseling the teen on what is normal in terms of menstruation, sex, and relationships, and addressing what is not, she said.

Ideally, patients who were designated female at birth but now identify as male or nonbinary will meet with a gynecologist early on in the gender affirmation process and a gynecologist will continue to consult as part of the patient’s interdisciplinary care team, added Dr. Romano, who counsels LGBTQ+ youth as part of her practice. A gynecologist may support these patients in myriad ways, including helping those who are considering or using puberty blockers and providing reproductive and health education to patients in a way that is sensitive to the patient’s gender identity.
 

Patient referrals

Some pediatricians and family practice physicians may be talking with their patients about topics such as menstrual cycles and contraception. But those who are uncomfortable asking adolescent patients about their reproductive and sexual health should refer them to a gynecologist or specialist in adolescent medicine, Dr. Romano advised.

“The biggest benefit I’ve noticed is often [patients] come from a pediatrician or family medicine provider and they often appreciate the opportunity to talk to a doctor they haven’t met before about the more personal questions they may have,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Referring adolescents to a specialist who has either trained in adolescent medicine or has experience treating that age group has benefits, Dr. Romano said. Clinicians with that experience understand adolescents are not “mini-adults” but have unique developmental and medical issues. How to counsel and educate them carries unique challenges, she said.

For example, heavy menstrual bleeding is a leading reason a patient – either an adult or an adolescent – presents to a gynecologist, Dr. Huguelet said. But the pathology differs vastly for those two age groups. For patients in their 30s and 40s, polyps and fibroids are common problems associated with heavy bleeding. Those conditions are rare in adolescents, whereas bleeding disorders are common, she said.

Most patients will continue to see their pediatricians and primary care providers for other issues. And in some areas, gynecologists can reinforce advice from pediatricians, such as encouraging patients to get the HPV vaccine, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.
 

Common misconceptions

Primary care physicians can also dispel common misconceptions teens – and their parents – have about gynecology. Some parents may believe that certain methods of birth control cause cancer or infertility, have concerns about the HPV vaccine, or think hormonal therapies are harmful, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. But the biggest misconception involves the infamous pelvic exam.

“Lots of patients assume that every time they go to the gynecologist they are going to have a pelvic exam,” she said. “When I say, ‘We don’t have to do that,’ they are so relieved.”

Guidelines have changed since the parents of today’s teens were going to the gynecologist for the first time. Many patients now do not need an initial Pap smear until age 25, following a recent guideline change by the American Cancer Society. (ACOG is considering adopting the same stance but still recommends screening start at 21.) “Most patients do not need an exam, even when it comes to sexual health and screening [for sexually transmitted infections], that can be done without an exam,” Dr. Huguelet said.
 

Confidentiality and comfort

On the other side of the referral, gynecologists should follow several best practices to treat adolescent patients. Arguably the most important part of the initial gynecologic visit is to give patients the option of one-on-one time with the physician with no parent in the room. During that time, the physician should make it clear that what they discuss is confidential and will not be shared with their parent or guardian, Dr. Huguelet said. Patients should also have the option of having a friend or another nonparent individual in the room with them during this one-on-one time with the physician, particularly if the patient does not feel comfortable discussing sensitive subjects completely on her own.

Adolescents receive better care, disclose more, and perceive they are getting better care when the process is confidential, Dr. Romano said. Confidentiality does have limits, however, which physicians should also make sure their patients understand, according to the ACOG guidelines for the initial reproductive visit. These limitations can vary by state depending on issues related to mandatory reporting, insurance billing, and legal requirements of patient notifications of specific services such as abortion.

The use of electronic medical records has raised additional challenges when it comes to communicating privately with adolescent patients, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. In her practice, she tries to ensure the adolescent is the one with the login information for their records. If not, her office will have the patient’s cell number to text or call securely.

“We feel strongly adolescents should be able to access reproductive health care, mental health care, and care for substance abuse disorders without parental notification,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Telehealth visits can also be helpful for adolescents coming to gynecology for the first time. And taking the time to establish a rapport with patients at the start of the visit is key, Dr. Huguelet said. By directing questions to the adolescent patient rather than the parent, Dr. Huguelet said, the physician demonstrates that the teen’s treatment needs come first.

ACOG has guidelines on other steps gynecology practices, including those that see both adults and teens, can take to make their offices and visits adolescent-friendly. These steps include asking patients about their preferred names and pronouns at the start of the visit or as part of the initial intake form, training office staff to be comfortable with issues related to adolescent sexuality and gender and sexual diversity among patients, providing a place for teens to wait separately from obstetrics patients, and having age-appropriate literature on hand for adolescents to learn about reproductive health.

After that first reproductive health visit, gynecologists and primary care providers should partner to ensure the whole health of their patients is being addressed, Dr. Huguelet said.

“Collaboration is always going to better serve patients in any area,” said Dr. Romano, “and certainly this area is no different.”

Dr. Amies Oelschlager, Dr. Romano, and Dr. Huguelet have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

For many adolescents, the first visit to a gynecologist can be intimidating. The prospect of meeting a new doctor who will ask prying, deeply personal questions about sex and menstruation is scary. And, in all likelihood, a parent, older sibling, or friend has warned them about the notorious pelvic exam.

The exact timing of when adolescent patients should start seeing a gynecologist varies based on when a patient starts puberty. Primary care physicians and pediatricians can help teens transition by referring patients to an adolescent-friendly practice and clearing up some of the misconceptions that surround the first gynecology visit. Gynecologists, on the other side of the referral, can help patients transition by guaranteeing confidentiality and creating a safe space for young patients.

This news organization interviewed three experts in adolescent health about when teens should start having their gynecological needs addressed and how their physicians can help them undergo that transition.
 

Age-appropriate care

“Most people get very limited information about their reproductive health,” said Anne-Marie E. Amies Oelschlager, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Seattle Children’s, Seattle, and a member of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) clinical consensus committee on gynecology.

Official guidelines from ACOG call for the initial reproductive health visit to take place between the ages of 13 and 15 years. The exact age may vary, however, depending on the specific needs of the patient.

For example, some patients begin menstruating early, at age 9 or 10, said Mary Romano, MD, MPH, a pediatrician and adolescent medicine specialist at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital, Nashville, Tenn. Pediatricians who are uncomfortable educating young patients about menstruation should refer the patient to a gynecologist or a pediatric gynecologist for whom such discussions are routine.

If a patient does not have a menstrual cycle by age 14 or 15, that also should be addressed by a family physician or gynecologist, Dr. Romano added.

“The importance here is addressing the reproductive health of the teen starting really at the age of 10 or 12, or once puberty starts,” said Patricia S. Huguelet, MD, a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist at Children’s Hospital Colorado, Aurora. In those early visits, the physician can provide “anticipatory guidance,” counseling the teen on what is normal in terms of menstruation, sex, and relationships, and addressing what is not, she said.

Ideally, patients who were designated female at birth but now identify as male or nonbinary will meet with a gynecologist early on in the gender affirmation process and a gynecologist will continue to consult as part of the patient’s interdisciplinary care team, added Dr. Romano, who counsels LGBTQ+ youth as part of her practice. A gynecologist may support these patients in myriad ways, including helping those who are considering or using puberty blockers and providing reproductive and health education to patients in a way that is sensitive to the patient’s gender identity.
 

Patient referrals

Some pediatricians and family practice physicians may be talking with their patients about topics such as menstrual cycles and contraception. But those who are uncomfortable asking adolescent patients about their reproductive and sexual health should refer them to a gynecologist or specialist in adolescent medicine, Dr. Romano advised.

“The biggest benefit I’ve noticed is often [patients] come from a pediatrician or family medicine provider and they often appreciate the opportunity to talk to a doctor they haven’t met before about the more personal questions they may have,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Referring adolescents to a specialist who has either trained in adolescent medicine or has experience treating that age group has benefits, Dr. Romano said. Clinicians with that experience understand adolescents are not “mini-adults” but have unique developmental and medical issues. How to counsel and educate them carries unique challenges, she said.

For example, heavy menstrual bleeding is a leading reason a patient – either an adult or an adolescent – presents to a gynecologist, Dr. Huguelet said. But the pathology differs vastly for those two age groups. For patients in their 30s and 40s, polyps and fibroids are common problems associated with heavy bleeding. Those conditions are rare in adolescents, whereas bleeding disorders are common, she said.

Most patients will continue to see their pediatricians and primary care providers for other issues. And in some areas, gynecologists can reinforce advice from pediatricians, such as encouraging patients to get the HPV vaccine, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.
 

Common misconceptions

Primary care physicians can also dispel common misconceptions teens – and their parents – have about gynecology. Some parents may believe that certain methods of birth control cause cancer or infertility, have concerns about the HPV vaccine, or think hormonal therapies are harmful, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. But the biggest misconception involves the infamous pelvic exam.

“Lots of patients assume that every time they go to the gynecologist they are going to have a pelvic exam,” she said. “When I say, ‘We don’t have to do that,’ they are so relieved.”

Guidelines have changed since the parents of today’s teens were going to the gynecologist for the first time. Many patients now do not need an initial Pap smear until age 25, following a recent guideline change by the American Cancer Society. (ACOG is considering adopting the same stance but still recommends screening start at 21.) “Most patients do not need an exam, even when it comes to sexual health and screening [for sexually transmitted infections], that can be done without an exam,” Dr. Huguelet said.
 

Confidentiality and comfort

On the other side of the referral, gynecologists should follow several best practices to treat adolescent patients. Arguably the most important part of the initial gynecologic visit is to give patients the option of one-on-one time with the physician with no parent in the room. During that time, the physician should make it clear that what they discuss is confidential and will not be shared with their parent or guardian, Dr. Huguelet said. Patients should also have the option of having a friend or another nonparent individual in the room with them during this one-on-one time with the physician, particularly if the patient does not feel comfortable discussing sensitive subjects completely on her own.

Adolescents receive better care, disclose more, and perceive they are getting better care when the process is confidential, Dr. Romano said. Confidentiality does have limits, however, which physicians should also make sure their patients understand, according to the ACOG guidelines for the initial reproductive visit. These limitations can vary by state depending on issues related to mandatory reporting, insurance billing, and legal requirements of patient notifications of specific services such as abortion.

The use of electronic medical records has raised additional challenges when it comes to communicating privately with adolescent patients, Dr. Amies Oelschlager said. In her practice, she tries to ensure the adolescent is the one with the login information for their records. If not, her office will have the patient’s cell number to text or call securely.

“We feel strongly adolescents should be able to access reproductive health care, mental health care, and care for substance abuse disorders without parental notification,” Dr. Amies Oelschlager said.

Telehealth visits can also be helpful for adolescents coming to gynecology for the first time. And taking the time to establish a rapport with patients at the start of the visit is key, Dr. Huguelet said. By directing questions to the adolescent patient rather than the parent, Dr. Huguelet said, the physician demonstrates that the teen’s treatment needs come first.

ACOG has guidelines on other steps gynecology practices, including those that see both adults and teens, can take to make their offices and visits adolescent-friendly. These steps include asking patients about their preferred names and pronouns at the start of the visit or as part of the initial intake form, training office staff to be comfortable with issues related to adolescent sexuality and gender and sexual diversity among patients, providing a place for teens to wait separately from obstetrics patients, and having age-appropriate literature on hand for adolescents to learn about reproductive health.

After that first reproductive health visit, gynecologists and primary care providers should partner to ensure the whole health of their patients is being addressed, Dr. Huguelet said.

“Collaboration is always going to better serve patients in any area,” said Dr. Romano, “and certainly this area is no different.”

Dr. Amies Oelschlager, Dr. Romano, and Dr. Huguelet have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

In early 2020, Justin Bullock, MD, MPH, did what few, if any, resident physicians have done: He published an honest account in the New England Journal of Medicine of a would-be suicide attempt during medical training.

In the article, Dr. Bullock matter-of-factly laid out how, in 2019, intern-year night shifts contributed to a depressive episode. For Dr. Bullock, who has a bipolar disorder, sleep dysregulation can be deadly. He had a plan for completing suicide, and this wouldn’t have been his first attempt. Thanks to his history and openness about his condition, Dr. Bullock had an experienced care team that helped him get to a psychiatric hospital before anything happened. While there for around 5 days, he wrote the bulk of the NEJM article.

The article took Dr. Bullock’s impact nationwide. In the medical world, where mental illness is a serious problem but still deeply stigmatized, Dr. Bullock’s unblinking honesty on the issue is still radical to many. On Twitter and in interviews, Dr. Bullock is an unapologetic advocate for accommodations for people in medicine with mental illness. “One of the things that inspired me to speak out early on is that I feel I stand in a place of so much privilege,” Dr. Bullock told this news organization. “I often feel this sense of ... ‘you have to speak up, Justin; no one else can.’ ”

Dr. Bullock’s activism is especially noteworthy, given that he is still establishing his career. In August, while an internal medicine resident at the University of California, San Francisco, he received a lifetime teaching award from UCSF because he had received three prior teaching awards; a recognition like this is considered rare someone so early in their career. Now in his final year of residency, he actively researches medical education, advocates for mental health support, and is working to become a leading voice on related issues.

“It seems to be working,” his older sister, Jacquis Mahoney, RN, said during a visit to the UCSF campus. Instead of any awkwardness, everyone is thrilled to learn that she is Justin’s sister. “There’s a lot of pride and excitement.”
 

Suicide attempts during medical training

Now 28, Dr. Bullock grew up in Detroit, with his mom and two older sisters. His father was incarcerated for much of Dr. Bullock’s childhood, in part because of his own bipolar disorder not being well controlled, Dr. Bullock said.

When he was younger, Dr. Bullock was the peacekeeper in the house between his two sisters, said Ms. Mahoney: “Justin was always very delicate and kind.”

He played soccer and ran track but also loved math and science. While outwardly accumulating an impressive resume, Dr. Bullock was internally struggling. In high school, he made what he now calls an “immature” attempt at suicide after coming out as gay to his family. While Dr. Bullock said he doesn’t necessarily dwell on the discrimination he has faced as a gay, Black man, his awareness of how others perceive and treat him because of his identity increases the background stress present in his daily life.

After high school, Dr. Bullock went to MIT in Boston, where he continued running and studied chemical-biological engineering. During college, Dr. Bullock thought he was going to have to withdraw from MIT because of his depression. Thankfully, he received counseling from student services and advice from a track coach who sat him down and talked about pragmatic solutions, like medication. “That was life-changing,” said Dr. Bullock.

When trying to decide between engineering and medicine, Dr. Bullock realized he preferred contemplating medical problems to engineering ones. So he applied to medical school. Dr. Bullock eventually ended up at UCSF, where he was selected to participate in the Program in Medical Education for the Urban Underserved, a 5-year track at the college for students committed to working with underserved communities.

By the time Dr. Bullock got to medical school, he was feeling good. In consultation with his psychiatrist, he thought it worthwhile to take a break from his medications. At that time, his diagnosis was major depressive disorder and he had only had one serious depressive episode, which didn’t necessarily indicate that he would need medication long-term, he said. 

Dr. Bullock loved everything about medical school. “One day when I was in my first year of med school, I called my mom and said: ‘It’s like science summer camp but every day!’” he recalled.

Despite his enthusiasm, though, he began feeling something troubling. Recognizing the symptoms of early depression, Dr. Bullock restarted his medication. But this time, the same SSRI only made things worse. He went from sleeping 8 hours to 90 minutes a night. He felt angry. One day, he went on a furious 22-mile run. Plus, within the first 6 months of moving to San Francisco, Dr. Bullock was stopped by the police three different times while riding his bike. He attributes this to his race, which has only further added to his stress. In September 2015, during his second year of medical school, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he was intubated in the ED and rushed to the ICU.

He was given a new diagnosis: bipolar disorder. He changed medications and lived for a time with Ms. Mahoney and his other sister, who moved from Chicago to California to be with him. “My family has helped me a lot,” he said.

Dr. Bullock was initially not sure whether he would be able to return to school after his attempted suicide. Overall, UCSF was extremely supportive, he said. That came as a relief. Medical school was a grounding force in his life, not a destabilizing one: “If I had been pushed out, it would have been really harmful to me.”

Then Dr. Bullock started residency. The sleep disruption that comes with the night shift – the resident rite of passage – triggered another episode. At first, Dr. Bullock was overly productive; his mind was active and alert after staying up all night. He worked on new research during the day instead of sleeping. 

Sleep disturbance is a hallmark symptom of bipolar disorder. “Justin should never be on a 24-hour call,” said Lisa Meeks, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry and family medicine at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, and a leading scholar on disability advocacy for medical trainees. When he started residency, Dr. Bullock was open with his program director about his diagnosis and sought accommodations to go to therapy each week. But he didn’t try to get out of night shifts or 24-hour calls, despite his care team urging him to do so. “I have this sense of wanting to tough it out,” he said. He also felt guilty making his peers take on his share of those challenging shifts.

In December 2019, Dr. Bullock was voluntarily hospitalized for a few days and started writing the article that would later appear in NEJM. In January, a friend and UCSF medical student completed suicide. In March, the same month his NEJM article came out, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he quickly recognized that he was making a mistake and called an ambulance. “For me, as far as suicide attempts go, it’s the most positive one.”
 

Advocating for changes in medical training

Throughout his medical training, Dr. Bullock was always open about his struggles with his peers and with the administration. He shared his suicidal thoughts at a Mental Illness Among Us event during medical school. His story resonated with peers who were surprised that Dr. Bullock, who was thriving academically, could be struggling emotionally. 

During residency, he led small group discussions and gave lectures at the medical school, including a talk about his attempts to create institutional change at UCSF, such as his public fight against the college’s Fitness for Duty (FFD) assessment process. That discussion earned him an Outstanding Lecturer award. Because it was the third award he had received from the medical school, Dr. Bullock also automatically earned a lifetime teaching award. When he told his mom, a teacher herself, about the award, she joked: “Are you old enough for ‘lifetime’ anything?”

Dr. Bullock has also spoken out and actively fought against the processes within the medical community that prevent people from coming forward until it is too late. Physicians and trainees often fear that if they seek mental health treatment, they will have to disclose that treatment to a potential employer or licensing board and then be barred from practicing medicine. Because he has been open about his mental health for so long, Dr. Bullock feels that he is in a position to push back against these norms. For example, in June he coauthored another article, this time for the Journal of Hospital Medicine, describing the traumatizing FFD assessment that followed his March 2020 suicide attempt.

In that article, Dr. Bullock wrote how no mental health professional served on the UCSF Physician Well Being Committee – comprising physicians and lawyers who evaluate physician impairment or potential physician impairment – that evaluated him. Dr. Bullock was referred to an outside psychiatrist. He also describes how he was forced to release all of his psychiatric records and undergo extensive drug testing, despite having no history of substance abuse. To return to work, he had to sign a contract, agreeing to be monitored and to attend a specific kind of therapy.

While steps like these can, in the right circumstances, protect both the public and doctors-in-training in important ways, they can also “be very punitive and isolating for someone going through a mental health crisis,” said Dr. Meeks. There were also no Black physicians or lawyers on the committee evaluating Dr. Bullock. “That was really egregious, when you look back.” Dr. Meeks is a coauthor on Dr. Bullock’s JHM article and a mentor and previous student disability officer at UCSF. 

Dr. Bullock raised objections to UCSF administrators about how he felt that the committee was discriminating against him because of his mental illness despite assurances from the director of his program that there have never been any performance or professionalism concerns with him. He said the administrators told him he was the first person to question the FFD process. This isn’t surprising, given that all the power in such situations usually lies with the hospital and the administrators, whereas the resident or physician is worried about losing their job and their license, said Dr. Meeks.

Dr. Bullock contends that he’s in a unique position to speak out, considering his stellar academic and work records, openness about his mental illness before a crisis, access to quality mental health care, and extensive personal network among the UCSF administration. “I know that I hold power within my institution; I spoke out because I could,” Dr. Bullock said. In addition to writing an article about his experience, Dr. Bullock shared his story with a task force appointed by the medical staff president to review the Physician Well-Being Committee and the overall FFD process. Even before Dr. Bullock shared his story with the public, the task force had already been appointed as a result of the increased concern about physician mental health during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, Michelle Guy, MD, clinical professor of medicine at UCSF, told this news organization. 

Elizabeth Fernandez, a UCSF senior public information representative, declined to comment on Dr. Bullock’s specific experience as reported in the JHM. “As with every hospital accredited by the Joint Commission, UCSF Medical Center has a Physician Well Being Committee that provides resources for physicians who may need help with chemical dependency or mental illness,” Ms. Fernandez said.

“Our goal through this program is always, first, to provide the compassion and assistance our physicians need to address the issues they face and continue to pursue their careers. This program is entirely voluntary and is bound by federal and state laws and regulations to protect the confidentiality of its participants, while ensuring that – first and foremost – no one is harmed by the situation, including the participant.”
 

Overcoming stigma to change the system

All of the attention – from national media outlets such as Vox to struggling peers and others – is fulfilling, Dr. Bullock said. But it can also be overwhelming. “I have definitely been praised as ‘Black excellence,’ and that definitely has added to the pressure to keep going ... to keep pushing at times,” he said.

Ms. Mahoney added: “He’s willing to sacrifice himself in order to make a difference. He would be a sacrificial lamb” for the Black community, the gay community, or any minority community.

Despite these concerns and his past suicide attempts, colleagues feel that Dr. Bullock is in a strong place to make decisions. “I trust Justin to put the boundaries up when they are needed and to engage in a way that feels comfortable for him,” said Ms. Meeks. “He is someone who has incredible self-awareness.”

Dr. Bullock’s history isn’t just something he overcame: It’s something that makes him a better, more empathetic doctor, said Ms. Mahoney. He knows what it’s like to be hospitalized, to deal with the frustration of insurance, to navigate the complexity of the health care system as a patient, or to be facing a deep internal darkness. He “can genuinely hold that person’s hand and say: ‘I know what you’re going through and we’re going to work through this day by day,’ ” she said. “That is something he can bring that no other physician can bring.”

In his advocacy on Twitter, in lectures, and in conversations with UCSF administrators, Dr. Bullock is pushing for board licensing questions to be reformed so physicians are no longer penalized for seeking mental health treatment. He would also like residency programs to make it easier and less stigmatizing for trainees to receive accommodations for a disability or mental illness.

“They say one person can’t change a system,” said Dr. Meeks, “but I do think Justin is calling an awful lot of attention to the system and I do think there will be changes because of his advocacy.”

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

In early 2020, Justin Bullock, MD, MPH, did what few, if any, resident physicians have done: He published an honest account in the New England Journal of Medicine of a would-be suicide attempt during medical training.

In the article, Dr. Bullock matter-of-factly laid out how, in 2019, intern-year night shifts contributed to a depressive episode. For Dr. Bullock, who has a bipolar disorder, sleep dysregulation can be deadly. He had a plan for completing suicide, and this wouldn’t have been his first attempt. Thanks to his history and openness about his condition, Dr. Bullock had an experienced care team that helped him get to a psychiatric hospital before anything happened. While there for around 5 days, he wrote the bulk of the NEJM article.

The article took Dr. Bullock’s impact nationwide. In the medical world, where mental illness is a serious problem but still deeply stigmatized, Dr. Bullock’s unblinking honesty on the issue is still radical to many. On Twitter and in interviews, Dr. Bullock is an unapologetic advocate for accommodations for people in medicine with mental illness. “One of the things that inspired me to speak out early on is that I feel I stand in a place of so much privilege,” Dr. Bullock told this news organization. “I often feel this sense of ... ‘you have to speak up, Justin; no one else can.’ ”

Dr. Bullock’s activism is especially noteworthy, given that he is still establishing his career. In August, while an internal medicine resident at the University of California, San Francisco, he received a lifetime teaching award from UCSF because he had received three prior teaching awards; a recognition like this is considered rare someone so early in their career. Now in his final year of residency, he actively researches medical education, advocates for mental health support, and is working to become a leading voice on related issues.

“It seems to be working,” his older sister, Jacquis Mahoney, RN, said during a visit to the UCSF campus. Instead of any awkwardness, everyone is thrilled to learn that she is Justin’s sister. “There’s a lot of pride and excitement.”
 

Suicide attempts during medical training

Now 28, Dr. Bullock grew up in Detroit, with his mom and two older sisters. His father was incarcerated for much of Dr. Bullock’s childhood, in part because of his own bipolar disorder not being well controlled, Dr. Bullock said.

When he was younger, Dr. Bullock was the peacekeeper in the house between his two sisters, said Ms. Mahoney: “Justin was always very delicate and kind.”

He played soccer and ran track but also loved math and science. While outwardly accumulating an impressive resume, Dr. Bullock was internally struggling. In high school, he made what he now calls an “immature” attempt at suicide after coming out as gay to his family. While Dr. Bullock said he doesn’t necessarily dwell on the discrimination he has faced as a gay, Black man, his awareness of how others perceive and treat him because of his identity increases the background stress present in his daily life.

After high school, Dr. Bullock went to MIT in Boston, where he continued running and studied chemical-biological engineering. During college, Dr. Bullock thought he was going to have to withdraw from MIT because of his depression. Thankfully, he received counseling from student services and advice from a track coach who sat him down and talked about pragmatic solutions, like medication. “That was life-changing,” said Dr. Bullock.

When trying to decide between engineering and medicine, Dr. Bullock realized he preferred contemplating medical problems to engineering ones. So he applied to medical school. Dr. Bullock eventually ended up at UCSF, where he was selected to participate in the Program in Medical Education for the Urban Underserved, a 5-year track at the college for students committed to working with underserved communities.

By the time Dr. Bullock got to medical school, he was feeling good. In consultation with his psychiatrist, he thought it worthwhile to take a break from his medications. At that time, his diagnosis was major depressive disorder and he had only had one serious depressive episode, which didn’t necessarily indicate that he would need medication long-term, he said. 

Dr. Bullock loved everything about medical school. “One day when I was in my first year of med school, I called my mom and said: ‘It’s like science summer camp but every day!’” he recalled.

Despite his enthusiasm, though, he began feeling something troubling. Recognizing the symptoms of early depression, Dr. Bullock restarted his medication. But this time, the same SSRI only made things worse. He went from sleeping 8 hours to 90 minutes a night. He felt angry. One day, he went on a furious 22-mile run. Plus, within the first 6 months of moving to San Francisco, Dr. Bullock was stopped by the police three different times while riding his bike. He attributes this to his race, which has only further added to his stress. In September 2015, during his second year of medical school, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he was intubated in the ED and rushed to the ICU.

He was given a new diagnosis: bipolar disorder. He changed medications and lived for a time with Ms. Mahoney and his other sister, who moved from Chicago to California to be with him. “My family has helped me a lot,” he said.

Dr. Bullock was initially not sure whether he would be able to return to school after his attempted suicide. Overall, UCSF was extremely supportive, he said. That came as a relief. Medical school was a grounding force in his life, not a destabilizing one: “If I had been pushed out, it would have been really harmful to me.”

Then Dr. Bullock started residency. The sleep disruption that comes with the night shift – the resident rite of passage – triggered another episode. At first, Dr. Bullock was overly productive; his mind was active and alert after staying up all night. He worked on new research during the day instead of sleeping. 

Sleep disturbance is a hallmark symptom of bipolar disorder. “Justin should never be on a 24-hour call,” said Lisa Meeks, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry and family medicine at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, and a leading scholar on disability advocacy for medical trainees. When he started residency, Dr. Bullock was open with his program director about his diagnosis and sought accommodations to go to therapy each week. But he didn’t try to get out of night shifts or 24-hour calls, despite his care team urging him to do so. “I have this sense of wanting to tough it out,” he said. He also felt guilty making his peers take on his share of those challenging shifts.

In December 2019, Dr. Bullock was voluntarily hospitalized for a few days and started writing the article that would later appear in NEJM. In January, a friend and UCSF medical student completed suicide. In March, the same month his NEJM article came out, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he quickly recognized that he was making a mistake and called an ambulance. “For me, as far as suicide attempts go, it’s the most positive one.”
 

Advocating for changes in medical training

Throughout his medical training, Dr. Bullock was always open about his struggles with his peers and with the administration. He shared his suicidal thoughts at a Mental Illness Among Us event during medical school. His story resonated with peers who were surprised that Dr. Bullock, who was thriving academically, could be struggling emotionally. 

During residency, he led small group discussions and gave lectures at the medical school, including a talk about his attempts to create institutional change at UCSF, such as his public fight against the college’s Fitness for Duty (FFD) assessment process. That discussion earned him an Outstanding Lecturer award. Because it was the third award he had received from the medical school, Dr. Bullock also automatically earned a lifetime teaching award. When he told his mom, a teacher herself, about the award, she joked: “Are you old enough for ‘lifetime’ anything?”

Dr. Bullock has also spoken out and actively fought against the processes within the medical community that prevent people from coming forward until it is too late. Physicians and trainees often fear that if they seek mental health treatment, they will have to disclose that treatment to a potential employer or licensing board and then be barred from practicing medicine. Because he has been open about his mental health for so long, Dr. Bullock feels that he is in a position to push back against these norms. For example, in June he coauthored another article, this time for the Journal of Hospital Medicine, describing the traumatizing FFD assessment that followed his March 2020 suicide attempt.

In that article, Dr. Bullock wrote how no mental health professional served on the UCSF Physician Well Being Committee – comprising physicians and lawyers who evaluate physician impairment or potential physician impairment – that evaluated him. Dr. Bullock was referred to an outside psychiatrist. He also describes how he was forced to release all of his psychiatric records and undergo extensive drug testing, despite having no history of substance abuse. To return to work, he had to sign a contract, agreeing to be monitored and to attend a specific kind of therapy.

While steps like these can, in the right circumstances, protect both the public and doctors-in-training in important ways, they can also “be very punitive and isolating for someone going through a mental health crisis,” said Dr. Meeks. There were also no Black physicians or lawyers on the committee evaluating Dr. Bullock. “That was really egregious, when you look back.” Dr. Meeks is a coauthor on Dr. Bullock’s JHM article and a mentor and previous student disability officer at UCSF. 

Dr. Bullock raised objections to UCSF administrators about how he felt that the committee was discriminating against him because of his mental illness despite assurances from the director of his program that there have never been any performance or professionalism concerns with him. He said the administrators told him he was the first person to question the FFD process. This isn’t surprising, given that all the power in such situations usually lies with the hospital and the administrators, whereas the resident or physician is worried about losing their job and their license, said Dr. Meeks.

Dr. Bullock contends that he’s in a unique position to speak out, considering his stellar academic and work records, openness about his mental illness before a crisis, access to quality mental health care, and extensive personal network among the UCSF administration. “I know that I hold power within my institution; I spoke out because I could,” Dr. Bullock said. In addition to writing an article about his experience, Dr. Bullock shared his story with a task force appointed by the medical staff president to review the Physician Well-Being Committee and the overall FFD process. Even before Dr. Bullock shared his story with the public, the task force had already been appointed as a result of the increased concern about physician mental health during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, Michelle Guy, MD, clinical professor of medicine at UCSF, told this news organization. 

Elizabeth Fernandez, a UCSF senior public information representative, declined to comment on Dr. Bullock’s specific experience as reported in the JHM. “As with every hospital accredited by the Joint Commission, UCSF Medical Center has a Physician Well Being Committee that provides resources for physicians who may need help with chemical dependency or mental illness,” Ms. Fernandez said.

“Our goal through this program is always, first, to provide the compassion and assistance our physicians need to address the issues they face and continue to pursue their careers. This program is entirely voluntary and is bound by federal and state laws and regulations to protect the confidentiality of its participants, while ensuring that – first and foremost – no one is harmed by the situation, including the participant.”
 

Overcoming stigma to change the system

All of the attention – from national media outlets such as Vox to struggling peers and others – is fulfilling, Dr. Bullock said. But it can also be overwhelming. “I have definitely been praised as ‘Black excellence,’ and that definitely has added to the pressure to keep going ... to keep pushing at times,” he said.

Ms. Mahoney added: “He’s willing to sacrifice himself in order to make a difference. He would be a sacrificial lamb” for the Black community, the gay community, or any minority community.

Despite these concerns and his past suicide attempts, colleagues feel that Dr. Bullock is in a strong place to make decisions. “I trust Justin to put the boundaries up when they are needed and to engage in a way that feels comfortable for him,” said Ms. Meeks. “He is someone who has incredible self-awareness.”

Dr. Bullock’s history isn’t just something he overcame: It’s something that makes him a better, more empathetic doctor, said Ms. Mahoney. He knows what it’s like to be hospitalized, to deal with the frustration of insurance, to navigate the complexity of the health care system as a patient, or to be facing a deep internal darkness. He “can genuinely hold that person’s hand and say: ‘I know what you’re going through and we’re going to work through this day by day,’ ” she said. “That is something he can bring that no other physician can bring.”

In his advocacy on Twitter, in lectures, and in conversations with UCSF administrators, Dr. Bullock is pushing for board licensing questions to be reformed so physicians are no longer penalized for seeking mental health treatment. He would also like residency programs to make it easier and less stigmatizing for trainees to receive accommodations for a disability or mental illness.

“They say one person can’t change a system,” said Dr. Meeks, “but I do think Justin is calling an awful lot of attention to the system and I do think there will be changes because of his advocacy.”

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

In early 2020, Justin Bullock, MD, MPH, did what few, if any, resident physicians have done: He published an honest account in the New England Journal of Medicine of a would-be suicide attempt during medical training.

In the article, Dr. Bullock matter-of-factly laid out how, in 2019, intern-year night shifts contributed to a depressive episode. For Dr. Bullock, who has a bipolar disorder, sleep dysregulation can be deadly. He had a plan for completing suicide, and this wouldn’t have been his first attempt. Thanks to his history and openness about his condition, Dr. Bullock had an experienced care team that helped him get to a psychiatric hospital before anything happened. While there for around 5 days, he wrote the bulk of the NEJM article.

The article took Dr. Bullock’s impact nationwide. In the medical world, where mental illness is a serious problem but still deeply stigmatized, Dr. Bullock’s unblinking honesty on the issue is still radical to many. On Twitter and in interviews, Dr. Bullock is an unapologetic advocate for accommodations for people in medicine with mental illness. “One of the things that inspired me to speak out early on is that I feel I stand in a place of so much privilege,” Dr. Bullock told this news organization. “I often feel this sense of ... ‘you have to speak up, Justin; no one else can.’ ”

Dr. Bullock’s activism is especially noteworthy, given that he is still establishing his career. In August, while an internal medicine resident at the University of California, San Francisco, he received a lifetime teaching award from UCSF because he had received three prior teaching awards; a recognition like this is considered rare someone so early in their career. Now in his final year of residency, he actively researches medical education, advocates for mental health support, and is working to become a leading voice on related issues.

“It seems to be working,” his older sister, Jacquis Mahoney, RN, said during a visit to the UCSF campus. Instead of any awkwardness, everyone is thrilled to learn that she is Justin’s sister. “There’s a lot of pride and excitement.”
 

Suicide attempts during medical training

Now 28, Dr. Bullock grew up in Detroit, with his mom and two older sisters. His father was incarcerated for much of Dr. Bullock’s childhood, in part because of his own bipolar disorder not being well controlled, Dr. Bullock said.

When he was younger, Dr. Bullock was the peacekeeper in the house between his two sisters, said Ms. Mahoney: “Justin was always very delicate and kind.”

He played soccer and ran track but also loved math and science. While outwardly accumulating an impressive resume, Dr. Bullock was internally struggling. In high school, he made what he now calls an “immature” attempt at suicide after coming out as gay to his family. While Dr. Bullock said he doesn’t necessarily dwell on the discrimination he has faced as a gay, Black man, his awareness of how others perceive and treat him because of his identity increases the background stress present in his daily life.

After high school, Dr. Bullock went to MIT in Boston, where he continued running and studied chemical-biological engineering. During college, Dr. Bullock thought he was going to have to withdraw from MIT because of his depression. Thankfully, he received counseling from student services and advice from a track coach who sat him down and talked about pragmatic solutions, like medication. “That was life-changing,” said Dr. Bullock.

When trying to decide between engineering and medicine, Dr. Bullock realized he preferred contemplating medical problems to engineering ones. So he applied to medical school. Dr. Bullock eventually ended up at UCSF, where he was selected to participate in the Program in Medical Education for the Urban Underserved, a 5-year track at the college for students committed to working with underserved communities.

By the time Dr. Bullock got to medical school, he was feeling good. In consultation with his psychiatrist, he thought it worthwhile to take a break from his medications. At that time, his diagnosis was major depressive disorder and he had only had one serious depressive episode, which didn’t necessarily indicate that he would need medication long-term, he said. 

Dr. Bullock loved everything about medical school. “One day when I was in my first year of med school, I called my mom and said: ‘It’s like science summer camp but every day!’” he recalled.

Despite his enthusiasm, though, he began feeling something troubling. Recognizing the symptoms of early depression, Dr. Bullock restarted his medication. But this time, the same SSRI only made things worse. He went from sleeping 8 hours to 90 minutes a night. He felt angry. One day, he went on a furious 22-mile run. Plus, within the first 6 months of moving to San Francisco, Dr. Bullock was stopped by the police three different times while riding his bike. He attributes this to his race, which has only further added to his stress. In September 2015, during his second year of medical school, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he was intubated in the ED and rushed to the ICU.

He was given a new diagnosis: bipolar disorder. He changed medications and lived for a time with Ms. Mahoney and his other sister, who moved from Chicago to California to be with him. “My family has helped me a lot,” he said.

Dr. Bullock was initially not sure whether he would be able to return to school after his attempted suicide. Overall, UCSF was extremely supportive, he said. That came as a relief. Medical school was a grounding force in his life, not a destabilizing one: “If I had been pushed out, it would have been really harmful to me.”

Then Dr. Bullock started residency. The sleep disruption that comes with the night shift – the resident rite of passage – triggered another episode. At first, Dr. Bullock was overly productive; his mind was active and alert after staying up all night. He worked on new research during the day instead of sleeping. 

Sleep disturbance is a hallmark symptom of bipolar disorder. “Justin should never be on a 24-hour call,” said Lisa Meeks, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry and family medicine at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, and a leading scholar on disability advocacy for medical trainees. When he started residency, Dr. Bullock was open with his program director about his diagnosis and sought accommodations to go to therapy each week. But he didn’t try to get out of night shifts or 24-hour calls, despite his care team urging him to do so. “I have this sense of wanting to tough it out,” he said. He also felt guilty making his peers take on his share of those challenging shifts.

In December 2019, Dr. Bullock was voluntarily hospitalized for a few days and started writing the article that would later appear in NEJM. In January, a friend and UCSF medical student completed suicide. In March, the same month his NEJM article came out, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he quickly recognized that he was making a mistake and called an ambulance. “For me, as far as suicide attempts go, it’s the most positive one.”
 

Advocating for changes in medical training

Throughout his medical training, Dr. Bullock was always open about his struggles with his peers and with the administration. He shared his suicidal thoughts at a Mental Illness Among Us event during medical school. His story resonated with peers who were surprised that Dr. Bullock, who was thriving academically, could be struggling emotionally. 

During residency, he led small group discussions and gave lectures at the medical school, including a talk about his attempts to create institutional change at UCSF, such as his public fight against the college’s Fitness for Duty (FFD) assessment process. That discussion earned him an Outstanding Lecturer award. Because it was the third award he had received from the medical school, Dr. Bullock also automatically earned a lifetime teaching award. When he told his mom, a teacher herself, about the award, she joked: “Are you old enough for ‘lifetime’ anything?”

Dr. Bullock has also spoken out and actively fought against the processes within the medical community that prevent people from coming forward until it is too late. Physicians and trainees often fear that if they seek mental health treatment, they will have to disclose that treatment to a potential employer or licensing board and then be barred from practicing medicine. Because he has been open about his mental health for so long, Dr. Bullock feels that he is in a position to push back against these norms. For example, in June he coauthored another article, this time for the Journal of Hospital Medicine, describing the traumatizing FFD assessment that followed his March 2020 suicide attempt.

In that article, Dr. Bullock wrote how no mental health professional served on the UCSF Physician Well Being Committee – comprising physicians and lawyers who evaluate physician impairment or potential physician impairment – that evaluated him. Dr. Bullock was referred to an outside psychiatrist. He also describes how he was forced to release all of his psychiatric records and undergo extensive drug testing, despite having no history of substance abuse. To return to work, he had to sign a contract, agreeing to be monitored and to attend a specific kind of therapy.

While steps like these can, in the right circumstances, protect both the public and doctors-in-training in important ways, they can also “be very punitive and isolating for someone going through a mental health crisis,” said Dr. Meeks. There were also no Black physicians or lawyers on the committee evaluating Dr. Bullock. “That was really egregious, when you look back.” Dr. Meeks is a coauthor on Dr. Bullock’s JHM article and a mentor and previous student disability officer at UCSF. 

Dr. Bullock raised objections to UCSF administrators about how he felt that the committee was discriminating against him because of his mental illness despite assurances from the director of his program that there have never been any performance or professionalism concerns with him. He said the administrators told him he was the first person to question the FFD process. This isn’t surprising, given that all the power in such situations usually lies with the hospital and the administrators, whereas the resident or physician is worried about losing their job and their license, said Dr. Meeks.

Dr. Bullock contends that he’s in a unique position to speak out, considering his stellar academic and work records, openness about his mental illness before a crisis, access to quality mental health care, and extensive personal network among the UCSF administration. “I know that I hold power within my institution; I spoke out because I could,” Dr. Bullock said. In addition to writing an article about his experience, Dr. Bullock shared his story with a task force appointed by the medical staff president to review the Physician Well-Being Committee and the overall FFD process. Even before Dr. Bullock shared his story with the public, the task force had already been appointed as a result of the increased concern about physician mental health during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, Michelle Guy, MD, clinical professor of medicine at UCSF, told this news organization. 

Elizabeth Fernandez, a UCSF senior public information representative, declined to comment on Dr. Bullock’s specific experience as reported in the JHM. “As with every hospital accredited by the Joint Commission, UCSF Medical Center has a Physician Well Being Committee that provides resources for physicians who may need help with chemical dependency or mental illness,” Ms. Fernandez said.

“Our goal through this program is always, first, to provide the compassion and assistance our physicians need to address the issues they face and continue to pursue their careers. This program is entirely voluntary and is bound by federal and state laws and regulations to protect the confidentiality of its participants, while ensuring that – first and foremost – no one is harmed by the situation, including the participant.”
 

Overcoming stigma to change the system

All of the attention – from national media outlets such as Vox to struggling peers and others – is fulfilling, Dr. Bullock said. But it can also be overwhelming. “I have definitely been praised as ‘Black excellence,’ and that definitely has added to the pressure to keep going ... to keep pushing at times,” he said.

Ms. Mahoney added: “He’s willing to sacrifice himself in order to make a difference. He would be a sacrificial lamb” for the Black community, the gay community, or any minority community.

Despite these concerns and his past suicide attempts, colleagues feel that Dr. Bullock is in a strong place to make decisions. “I trust Justin to put the boundaries up when they are needed and to engage in a way that feels comfortable for him,” said Ms. Meeks. “He is someone who has incredible self-awareness.”

Dr. Bullock’s history isn’t just something he overcame: It’s something that makes him a better, more empathetic doctor, said Ms. Mahoney. He knows what it’s like to be hospitalized, to deal with the frustration of insurance, to navigate the complexity of the health care system as a patient, or to be facing a deep internal darkness. He “can genuinely hold that person’s hand and say: ‘I know what you’re going through and we’re going to work through this day by day,’ ” she said. “That is something he can bring that no other physician can bring.”

In his advocacy on Twitter, in lectures, and in conversations with UCSF administrators, Dr. Bullock is pushing for board licensing questions to be reformed so physicians are no longer penalized for seeking mental health treatment. He would also like residency programs to make it easier and less stigmatizing for trainees to receive accommodations for a disability or mental illness.

“They say one person can’t change a system,” said Dr. Meeks, “but I do think Justin is calling an awful lot of attention to the system and I do think there will be changes because of his advocacy.”

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

As governors and legislatures in states such as Texas, Florida, South Carolina, and Arkansas have banned schools and other entities from implementing mask mandates, disability rights advocates have pushed back. In federal civil rights lawsuits, they argue that bans on mask mandates violate antidiscrimination laws protecting people with disabilities.

OsakaWayne Studios/Moment

For unvaccinated and immunosuppressed individuals, masks can provide crucial protection from SARS-CoV-2.

People who are immunocompromised can harness the power of the Americans With Disabilities Act to fight against bans on mask mandates and protect themselves in their workplaces, argues Mical Raz, MD, PhD, a professor at the University of Rochester (N.Y.) and a physician at Strong Memorial Hospital, also in Rochester, New York, in an article published in JAMA with coauthor Doron Dorfman, LLB, JSD.

This news organization talked with Dr. Raz about approaching mask requirements as disability accommodation during the COVID-19 pandemic. The following interview was lightly edited for length and clarity.
 

How did you come to think about mask requirements as a form of disability accommodation?

I saw a tweet from a professor at a university who said they couldn’t ask students about their vaccination status or to wear a mask. All agency was removed from the professor to take care of and protect themselves. I thought, well, that can’t be right. And ostensibly, that would be particularly dangerous for somebody with immunosuppression for whom the vaccine is not adequately protective. So, I called my friend, Doron Dorfman, and asked him to help me think through the legal part of this. We fleshed it out and wrote the article that same night.
 

How novel is it to view accommodations for people who are immunosuppressed through the lens of disability accommodation?

I think there has not been enough focus during the pandemic on individuals with disabilities or on how disability law can be mobilized during this pandemic to help supplement the public health law. This framework should be used a lot more because it’s good for everybody, not just for individuals with disabilities.

For example, take what’s called the “curb effect.” If you expand sidewalks, yes, it helps individuals who use a wheelchair. But it also helps me as a mom with a stroller. It helps somebody with a shopping cart, or a kid with a bike. If we adopt policies that are inclusive to those who are disadvantaged, it’s good for everybody. We should always strive to be an inclusive society, not just because it’s the right thing to do but because it really makes our society better.
 

How can mask requirements be used as a form of disability accommodation, as you argue in the JAMA article?

The ADA requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for disability. In this case, the disability is your immunosuppressive status. We have an abundance of evidence showing individuals who are immunocompromised and vaccinated are still inadequately protected from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. So, there is absolute data to show individuals with immunosuppression have a disability that requires accommodation.

The ADA has a mandate requiring employers to adjust or modify policies in order to accommodate a disability. There are certain situations in which you cannot or do not need to accommodate a disability, when it would fundamentally alter the kind of employment you offer or if it’s an undue burden or hardship. But given that we’ve been wearing masks and working remotely for a year now, arguing that somehow these accommodations are no longer possible seems disingenuous.

In that way, allowing a person who’s immunocompromised to require those around them to mask is a form of modified protective policies. And in this case, those policies line up with a public health good, masking in the face of the highly contagious Delta variant ravaging our country right now.
 

In your view, can this argument be used in the mask debates happening right now across the country?

This argument can and should be useful for a couple of different lawsuits that are now underway in different states. I hope our article will provide further support for those suits. And I hope in school board hearings, when parents and teachers are talking about their concerns, this could be one way to argue for why we should allow mask mandates in classes. I’ve received emails from parents who said they’re going to bring this article to their school board hearing.

I also hope this could shift the narrative around the pandemic. Instead of focusing on individual responsibility – I got my vaccine shot so I’m fine – let’s focus on how we create an inclusive environment where we protect everybody, including those who cannot be vaccinated because of age or disability, or those who are vaccinated but inadequately protected because of their underlying conditions.
 

In the JAMA article, you talk about how our pandemic response has focused on individual health and how that individual focus can be ableist. Can you explain that point?

I think this idea that we just make our choices – like whether to get vaccinated or wear a mask, or not – and live with it really perpetuates a highly individualistic and ableist mindset. It doesn’t consider the people I admit to the hospital who are vaccinated but have a heart transplant and didn’t mount the sufficient immune response. Or even the people who chose not to be vaccinated because they were exposed to hours and hours of misinformation on TV.

We like to individualize everything, focusing on personal responsibility and choices, but a pandemic is one of those moments where everybody’s choices affect everybody else. Laying responsibility at the doorstep of each person, rather than thinking about what steps we as a society could be taking, is cheap and politically expedient. There is no public health rationale behind the bans on mask requirements in states like Texas, Iowa, and Florida. These choices are about politics. And the price is always borne by the most disadvantaged among us.

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

As governors and legislatures in states such as Texas, Florida, South Carolina, and Arkansas have banned schools and other entities from implementing mask mandates, disability rights advocates have pushed back. In federal civil rights lawsuits, they argue that bans on mask mandates violate antidiscrimination laws protecting people with disabilities.

OsakaWayne Studios/Moment

For unvaccinated and immunosuppressed individuals, masks can provide crucial protection from SARS-CoV-2.

People who are immunocompromised can harness the power of the Americans With Disabilities Act to fight against bans on mask mandates and protect themselves in their workplaces, argues Mical Raz, MD, PhD, a professor at the University of Rochester (N.Y.) and a physician at Strong Memorial Hospital, also in Rochester, New York, in an article published in JAMA with coauthor Doron Dorfman, LLB, JSD.

This news organization talked with Dr. Raz about approaching mask requirements as disability accommodation during the COVID-19 pandemic. The following interview was lightly edited for length and clarity.
 

How did you come to think about mask requirements as a form of disability accommodation?

I saw a tweet from a professor at a university who said they couldn’t ask students about their vaccination status or to wear a mask. All agency was removed from the professor to take care of and protect themselves. I thought, well, that can’t be right. And ostensibly, that would be particularly dangerous for somebody with immunosuppression for whom the vaccine is not adequately protective. So, I called my friend, Doron Dorfman, and asked him to help me think through the legal part of this. We fleshed it out and wrote the article that same night.
 

How novel is it to view accommodations for people who are immunosuppressed through the lens of disability accommodation?

I think there has not been enough focus during the pandemic on individuals with disabilities or on how disability law can be mobilized during this pandemic to help supplement the public health law. This framework should be used a lot more because it’s good for everybody, not just for individuals with disabilities.

For example, take what’s called the “curb effect.” If you expand sidewalks, yes, it helps individuals who use a wheelchair. But it also helps me as a mom with a stroller. It helps somebody with a shopping cart, or a kid with a bike. If we adopt policies that are inclusive to those who are disadvantaged, it’s good for everybody. We should always strive to be an inclusive society, not just because it’s the right thing to do but because it really makes our society better.
 

How can mask requirements be used as a form of disability accommodation, as you argue in the JAMA article?

The ADA requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for disability. In this case, the disability is your immunosuppressive status. We have an abundance of evidence showing individuals who are immunocompromised and vaccinated are still inadequately protected from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. So, there is absolute data to show individuals with immunosuppression have a disability that requires accommodation.

The ADA has a mandate requiring employers to adjust or modify policies in order to accommodate a disability. There are certain situations in which you cannot or do not need to accommodate a disability, when it would fundamentally alter the kind of employment you offer or if it’s an undue burden or hardship. But given that we’ve been wearing masks and working remotely for a year now, arguing that somehow these accommodations are no longer possible seems disingenuous.

In that way, allowing a person who’s immunocompromised to require those around them to mask is a form of modified protective policies. And in this case, those policies line up with a public health good, masking in the face of the highly contagious Delta variant ravaging our country right now.
 

In your view, can this argument be used in the mask debates happening right now across the country?

This argument can and should be useful for a couple of different lawsuits that are now underway in different states. I hope our article will provide further support for those suits. And I hope in school board hearings, when parents and teachers are talking about their concerns, this could be one way to argue for why we should allow mask mandates in classes. I’ve received emails from parents who said they’re going to bring this article to their school board hearing.

I also hope this could shift the narrative around the pandemic. Instead of focusing on individual responsibility – I got my vaccine shot so I’m fine – let’s focus on how we create an inclusive environment where we protect everybody, including those who cannot be vaccinated because of age or disability, or those who are vaccinated but inadequately protected because of their underlying conditions.
 

In the JAMA article, you talk about how our pandemic response has focused on individual health and how that individual focus can be ableist. Can you explain that point?

I think this idea that we just make our choices – like whether to get vaccinated or wear a mask, or not – and live with it really perpetuates a highly individualistic and ableist mindset. It doesn’t consider the people I admit to the hospital who are vaccinated but have a heart transplant and didn’t mount the sufficient immune response. Or even the people who chose not to be vaccinated because they were exposed to hours and hours of misinformation on TV.

We like to individualize everything, focusing on personal responsibility and choices, but a pandemic is one of those moments where everybody’s choices affect everybody else. Laying responsibility at the doorstep of each person, rather than thinking about what steps we as a society could be taking, is cheap and politically expedient. There is no public health rationale behind the bans on mask requirements in states like Texas, Iowa, and Florida. These choices are about politics. And the price is always borne by the most disadvantaged among us.

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

As governors and legislatures in states such as Texas, Florida, South Carolina, and Arkansas have banned schools and other entities from implementing mask mandates, disability rights advocates have pushed back. In federal civil rights lawsuits, they argue that bans on mask mandates violate antidiscrimination laws protecting people with disabilities.

OsakaWayne Studios/Moment

For unvaccinated and immunosuppressed individuals, masks can provide crucial protection from SARS-CoV-2.

People who are immunocompromised can harness the power of the Americans With Disabilities Act to fight against bans on mask mandates and protect themselves in their workplaces, argues Mical Raz, MD, PhD, a professor at the University of Rochester (N.Y.) and a physician at Strong Memorial Hospital, also in Rochester, New York, in an article published in JAMA with coauthor Doron Dorfman, LLB, JSD.

This news organization talked with Dr. Raz about approaching mask requirements as disability accommodation during the COVID-19 pandemic. The following interview was lightly edited for length and clarity.
 

How did you come to think about mask requirements as a form of disability accommodation?

I saw a tweet from a professor at a university who said they couldn’t ask students about their vaccination status or to wear a mask. All agency was removed from the professor to take care of and protect themselves. I thought, well, that can’t be right. And ostensibly, that would be particularly dangerous for somebody with immunosuppression for whom the vaccine is not adequately protective. So, I called my friend, Doron Dorfman, and asked him to help me think through the legal part of this. We fleshed it out and wrote the article that same night.
 

How novel is it to view accommodations for people who are immunosuppressed through the lens of disability accommodation?

I think there has not been enough focus during the pandemic on individuals with disabilities or on how disability law can be mobilized during this pandemic to help supplement the public health law. This framework should be used a lot more because it’s good for everybody, not just for individuals with disabilities.

For example, take what’s called the “curb effect.” If you expand sidewalks, yes, it helps individuals who use a wheelchair. But it also helps me as a mom with a stroller. It helps somebody with a shopping cart, or a kid with a bike. If we adopt policies that are inclusive to those who are disadvantaged, it’s good for everybody. We should always strive to be an inclusive society, not just because it’s the right thing to do but because it really makes our society better.
 

How can mask requirements be used as a form of disability accommodation, as you argue in the JAMA article?

The ADA requires employers to provide reasonable accommodations for disability. In this case, the disability is your immunosuppressive status. We have an abundance of evidence showing individuals who are immunocompromised and vaccinated are still inadequately protected from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. So, there is absolute data to show individuals with immunosuppression have a disability that requires accommodation.

The ADA has a mandate requiring employers to adjust or modify policies in order to accommodate a disability. There are certain situations in which you cannot or do not need to accommodate a disability, when it would fundamentally alter the kind of employment you offer or if it’s an undue burden or hardship. But given that we’ve been wearing masks and working remotely for a year now, arguing that somehow these accommodations are no longer possible seems disingenuous.

In that way, allowing a person who’s immunocompromised to require those around them to mask is a form of modified protective policies. And in this case, those policies line up with a public health good, masking in the face of the highly contagious Delta variant ravaging our country right now.
 

In your view, can this argument be used in the mask debates happening right now across the country?

This argument can and should be useful for a couple of different lawsuits that are now underway in different states. I hope our article will provide further support for those suits. And I hope in school board hearings, when parents and teachers are talking about their concerns, this could be one way to argue for why we should allow mask mandates in classes. I’ve received emails from parents who said they’re going to bring this article to their school board hearing.

I also hope this could shift the narrative around the pandemic. Instead of focusing on individual responsibility – I got my vaccine shot so I’m fine – let’s focus on how we create an inclusive environment where we protect everybody, including those who cannot be vaccinated because of age or disability, or those who are vaccinated but inadequately protected because of their underlying conditions.
 

In the JAMA article, you talk about how our pandemic response has focused on individual health and how that individual focus can be ableist. Can you explain that point?

I think this idea that we just make our choices – like whether to get vaccinated or wear a mask, or not – and live with it really perpetuates a highly individualistic and ableist mindset. It doesn’t consider the people I admit to the hospital who are vaccinated but have a heart transplant and didn’t mount the sufficient immune response. Or even the people who chose not to be vaccinated because they were exposed to hours and hours of misinformation on TV.

We like to individualize everything, focusing on personal responsibility and choices, but a pandemic is one of those moments where everybody’s choices affect everybody else. Laying responsibility at the doorstep of each person, rather than thinking about what steps we as a society could be taking, is cheap and politically expedient. There is no public health rationale behind the bans on mask requirements in states like Texas, Iowa, and Florida. These choices are about politics. And the price is always borne by the most disadvantaged among us.

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

It has been a strange, exhausting year for many evolutionary virologists.

“Scientists are not used to having attention and are not used to being in the press and are not used to being attacked on Twitter,” Martha Nelson, PhD, a staff scientist who studies viral evolution at the National Institutes of Health, said in an interview.

Over the past year and a half, the theory of evolution has been thrust into the spotlight – more now than ever, perhaps, as the world is stalked by the Delta variant and fears arise of a mutation that’s even worse.

The origins of SARS-CoV-2 and the rise of the Delta variant have been debated, and vaccine efficacy and the possible need for booster shots have been speculated upon. In all these instances, consciously or not, there is engagement with the field of evolutionary virology.

It has been central to deepening the understanding of the ongoing pandemic, even as SARS-CoV-2 has exposed gaps in what we understand about how viruses behave and evolve.

Evolutionary virology experts believe that, after the pandemic, their expertise and tools could be applied to and integrated with clinical medicine to improve outcomes and understanding of disease.

“From our perspective, evolutionary biology has been a side dish and something that hasn’t been integrated into the core practice of medicine,” said Dr. Nelson. “I’m really curious to see how that changes over time.”
 

Pandemic evolution

Novel pathogens, antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and cancer cells are all products of ongoing evolution. “Just like cellular organisms, viruses have genomes, and all genomes evolve,” Eugene Koonin, PhD, evolutionary genomics group leader at the NIH, said in an interview.

Compared with cellular organisms, viruses evolve quite fast, he said.

A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences exemplifies evolutionary virology in action. In the study, Dr. Koonin and fellow researchers analyzed more than 300,000 genome sequences of SARS-CoV-2 variants that were publicly available as of January 2021 and mapped all the mutations in each sequence.

The researchers identified a small subset of mutations that arose independently more than once and that likely aided viral adaptation, said Nash Rochman, PhD, a research fellow at the NIH and coauthor of the PNAS study.

Many of these mutations were concentrated in two areas of the genome – the receptor binding domain of the spike protein, and a region of the nucleocapsid protein – and were often grouped together, possibly creating greater advantages for the virus than would have occurred individually, he said.

The researchers also found that, from the beginning of the pandemic, the SARS-CoV-2 genome has been evolving and diversifying in different regions around the world, allowing for the rise of new lineages and, possibly, even new species, Dr. Koonin said.

During the pandemic, researchers have used evolutionary virology tools to tackle many other questions. For example, Dr. Nelson tracked the spread of SARS-CoV-2 across Europe and North America. In a study that is currently undergoing peer review, the investigators found recently vaccinated individuals, who are only partially immune, are at the highest risk for incubating antibody-resistant variants.

C. Brandon Ogbunu, PhD, an evolutionary geneticist at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., whose work is focused on disease evolution, studied whether SARS-CoV-2 would evolve to become more transmissible, and if so, would it also become more or less virulent. His lab also investigated the transmission and spread of the virus.

“I think the last year, on one end, has been this opportunity to apply concepts and perspectives that we’ve been developing for the last several decades,” Dr. Ogbunu said in an interview. “At the same time, this pandemic has also been this wake-up call for many of us with regards to revealing the things we do not understand about the ways viruses infect, spread, and how evolution works within viruses.”

He emphasizes the need for evolutionary biology to partner with other fields – including information theory and biophysics – to help unlock viral mysteries: “We need to think very, very carefully about the way those fields intersect.”

Dr. Nelson also pointed to the need for better, more centralized data gathering in the United States.

The sheer volume of information scientists have collected about SARS-CoV-2 will aid in the study of virus evolution for years to come, said Dr. Koonin.
 

Evolution in medicine

Evolutionary virology and related research can be applied to medicine outside of the context of a global pandemic. “The principles and technical portions of evolutionary virology are very applicable to other diseases, including cancer,” Dr. Koonin said.

Viruses, bacteria, and cancer cells are all evolving systems. Viruses and bacteria are constantly evolving to thwart drugs and vaccines. How physicians and health care professionals practice medicine shapes the selection pressures driving how these pathogens evolve, Dr. Nelson said.

The rise of antibiotic-resistant bacteria is a particularly relevant example of how evolution affects the way physicians treat patients. Having an evolutionary perspective can help inform how to treat patients most effectively, both for individual patients as well as for broader public health, she said.

“For a long time, there’s been a lot of interest in pathogen evolution that hasn’t translated so much into clinical practice,” said Dr. Nelson. “There’s been kind of a gulf between the research side of evolutionary virology and pathogen emergence and actual practice of medicine.”

As genomic sequencing has become faster and cheaper, that gulf has started to narrow, she said. As this technology continues to prove itself by, for example, tracking the evolution of one virus in real time, Dr. Nelson hopes there will be a positive snowball effect, leading to more attention, investment, and improvements in genomic data and that its use in epidemiology and medicine will expand going forward.

Bringing viral evolution studies more into medicine will require a mindset shift, Dr. Ogbunu said. Clinical practice is, by design, very focused on the individual patient. Evolutionary biology, on the other hand, deals with populations and probabilities.

Being able to engage with evolutionary biology would help physicians better understand disease and explain it to their patients, he said.

To start, Dr. Nelson recommended requiring at least one course in evolutionary biology or evolutionary medicine in medical school and crafting continuing education in this area for physicians. (Presentations at conferences could be one way to do this.)

Dr. Nelson also recommended deeper engagement and collaboration between physicians who collect samples from patients and evolutionary biologists who analyze genetic data. This would improve the quality of the data, the analysis, and the eventual findings that could be relevant to patients and clinical practice.

Still, “my first and inevitable reaction is I would so much rather prefer to exist in relative obscurity,” said Dr. Koonin, noting that the tragedy of the pandemic outweighs the advancements in the field.

Although there’s no going back to prepandemic times, there is an enormous opportunity in the aftermath of COVID to increase dialogue between physicians and evolutionary virologists to improve medical practice as well as public health.

Dr. Nelson summed it up: “Everything we uncover about these pathogens may help us prevent something like this again.”

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

It has been a strange, exhausting year for many evolutionary virologists.

“Scientists are not used to having attention and are not used to being in the press and are not used to being attacked on Twitter,” Martha Nelson, PhD, a staff scientist who studies viral evolution at the National Institutes of Health, said in an interview.

Over the past year and a half, the theory of evolution has been thrust into the spotlight – more now than ever, perhaps, as the world is stalked by the Delta variant and fears arise of a mutation that’s even worse.

The origins of SARS-CoV-2 and the rise of the Delta variant have been debated, and vaccine efficacy and the possible need for booster shots have been speculated upon. In all these instances, consciously or not, there is engagement with the field of evolutionary virology.

It has been central to deepening the understanding of the ongoing pandemic, even as SARS-CoV-2 has exposed gaps in what we understand about how viruses behave and evolve.

Evolutionary virology experts believe that, after the pandemic, their expertise and tools could be applied to and integrated with clinical medicine to improve outcomes and understanding of disease.

“From our perspective, evolutionary biology has been a side dish and something that hasn’t been integrated into the core practice of medicine,” said Dr. Nelson. “I’m really curious to see how that changes over time.”
 

Pandemic evolution

Novel pathogens, antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and cancer cells are all products of ongoing evolution. “Just like cellular organisms, viruses have genomes, and all genomes evolve,” Eugene Koonin, PhD, evolutionary genomics group leader at the NIH, said in an interview.

Compared with cellular organisms, viruses evolve quite fast, he said.

A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences exemplifies evolutionary virology in action. In the study, Dr. Koonin and fellow researchers analyzed more than 300,000 genome sequences of SARS-CoV-2 variants that were publicly available as of January 2021 and mapped all the mutations in each sequence.

The researchers identified a small subset of mutations that arose independently more than once and that likely aided viral adaptation, said Nash Rochman, PhD, a research fellow at the NIH and coauthor of the PNAS study.

Many of these mutations were concentrated in two areas of the genome – the receptor binding domain of the spike protein, and a region of the nucleocapsid protein – and were often grouped together, possibly creating greater advantages for the virus than would have occurred individually, he said.

The researchers also found that, from the beginning of the pandemic, the SARS-CoV-2 genome has been evolving and diversifying in different regions around the world, allowing for the rise of new lineages and, possibly, even new species, Dr. Koonin said.

During the pandemic, researchers have used evolutionary virology tools to tackle many other questions. For example, Dr. Nelson tracked the spread of SARS-CoV-2 across Europe and North America. In a study that is currently undergoing peer review, the investigators found recently vaccinated individuals, who are only partially immune, are at the highest risk for incubating antibody-resistant variants.

C. Brandon Ogbunu, PhD, an evolutionary geneticist at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., whose work is focused on disease evolution, studied whether SARS-CoV-2 would evolve to become more transmissible, and if so, would it also become more or less virulent. His lab also investigated the transmission and spread of the virus.

“I think the last year, on one end, has been this opportunity to apply concepts and perspectives that we’ve been developing for the last several decades,” Dr. Ogbunu said in an interview. “At the same time, this pandemic has also been this wake-up call for many of us with regards to revealing the things we do not understand about the ways viruses infect, spread, and how evolution works within viruses.”

He emphasizes the need for evolutionary biology to partner with other fields – including information theory and biophysics – to help unlock viral mysteries: “We need to think very, very carefully about the way those fields intersect.”

Dr. Nelson also pointed to the need for better, more centralized data gathering in the United States.

The sheer volume of information scientists have collected about SARS-CoV-2 will aid in the study of virus evolution for years to come, said Dr. Koonin.
 

Evolution in medicine

Evolutionary virology and related research can be applied to medicine outside of the context of a global pandemic. “The principles and technical portions of evolutionary virology are very applicable to other diseases, including cancer,” Dr. Koonin said.

Viruses, bacteria, and cancer cells are all evolving systems. Viruses and bacteria are constantly evolving to thwart drugs and vaccines. How physicians and health care professionals practice medicine shapes the selection pressures driving how these pathogens evolve, Dr. Nelson said.

The rise of antibiotic-resistant bacteria is a particularly relevant example of how evolution affects the way physicians treat patients. Having an evolutionary perspective can help inform how to treat patients most effectively, both for individual patients as well as for broader public health, she said.

“For a long time, there’s been a lot of interest in pathogen evolution that hasn’t translated so much into clinical practice,” said Dr. Nelson. “There’s been kind of a gulf between the research side of evolutionary virology and pathogen emergence and actual practice of medicine.”

As genomic sequencing has become faster and cheaper, that gulf has started to narrow, she said. As this technology continues to prove itself by, for example, tracking the evolution of one virus in real time, Dr. Nelson hopes there will be a positive snowball effect, leading to more attention, investment, and improvements in genomic data and that its use in epidemiology and medicine will expand going forward.

Bringing viral evolution studies more into medicine will require a mindset shift, Dr. Ogbunu said. Clinical practice is, by design, very focused on the individual patient. Evolutionary biology, on the other hand, deals with populations and probabilities.

Being able to engage with evolutionary biology would help physicians better understand disease and explain it to their patients, he said.

To start, Dr. Nelson recommended requiring at least one course in evolutionary biology or evolutionary medicine in medical school and crafting continuing education in this area for physicians. (Presentations at conferences could be one way to do this.)

Dr. Nelson also recommended deeper engagement and collaboration between physicians who collect samples from patients and evolutionary biologists who analyze genetic data. This would improve the quality of the data, the analysis, and the eventual findings that could be relevant to patients and clinical practice.

Still, “my first and inevitable reaction is I would so much rather prefer to exist in relative obscurity,” said Dr. Koonin, noting that the tragedy of the pandemic outweighs the advancements in the field.

Although there’s no going back to prepandemic times, there is an enormous opportunity in the aftermath of COVID to increase dialogue between physicians and evolutionary virologists to improve medical practice as well as public health.

Dr. Nelson summed it up: “Everything we uncover about these pathogens may help us prevent something like this again.”

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

It has been a strange, exhausting year for many evolutionary virologists.

“Scientists are not used to having attention and are not used to being in the press and are not used to being attacked on Twitter,” Martha Nelson, PhD, a staff scientist who studies viral evolution at the National Institutes of Health, said in an interview.

Over the past year and a half, the theory of evolution has been thrust into the spotlight – more now than ever, perhaps, as the world is stalked by the Delta variant and fears arise of a mutation that’s even worse.

The origins of SARS-CoV-2 and the rise of the Delta variant have been debated, and vaccine efficacy and the possible need for booster shots have been speculated upon. In all these instances, consciously or not, there is engagement with the field of evolutionary virology.

It has been central to deepening the understanding of the ongoing pandemic, even as SARS-CoV-2 has exposed gaps in what we understand about how viruses behave and evolve.

Evolutionary virology experts believe that, after the pandemic, their expertise and tools could be applied to and integrated with clinical medicine to improve outcomes and understanding of disease.

“From our perspective, evolutionary biology has been a side dish and something that hasn’t been integrated into the core practice of medicine,” said Dr. Nelson. “I’m really curious to see how that changes over time.”
 

Pandemic evolution

Novel pathogens, antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and cancer cells are all products of ongoing evolution. “Just like cellular organisms, viruses have genomes, and all genomes evolve,” Eugene Koonin, PhD, evolutionary genomics group leader at the NIH, said in an interview.

Compared with cellular organisms, viruses evolve quite fast, he said.

A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences exemplifies evolutionary virology in action. In the study, Dr. Koonin and fellow researchers analyzed more than 300,000 genome sequences of SARS-CoV-2 variants that were publicly available as of January 2021 and mapped all the mutations in each sequence.

The researchers identified a small subset of mutations that arose independently more than once and that likely aided viral adaptation, said Nash Rochman, PhD, a research fellow at the NIH and coauthor of the PNAS study.

Many of these mutations were concentrated in two areas of the genome – the receptor binding domain of the spike protein, and a region of the nucleocapsid protein – and were often grouped together, possibly creating greater advantages for the virus than would have occurred individually, he said.

The researchers also found that, from the beginning of the pandemic, the SARS-CoV-2 genome has been evolving and diversifying in different regions around the world, allowing for the rise of new lineages and, possibly, even new species, Dr. Koonin said.

During the pandemic, researchers have used evolutionary virology tools to tackle many other questions. For example, Dr. Nelson tracked the spread of SARS-CoV-2 across Europe and North America. In a study that is currently undergoing peer review, the investigators found recently vaccinated individuals, who are only partially immune, are at the highest risk for incubating antibody-resistant variants.

C. Brandon Ogbunu, PhD, an evolutionary geneticist at Yale University, New Haven, Conn., whose work is focused on disease evolution, studied whether SARS-CoV-2 would evolve to become more transmissible, and if so, would it also become more or less virulent. His lab also investigated the transmission and spread of the virus.

“I think the last year, on one end, has been this opportunity to apply concepts and perspectives that we’ve been developing for the last several decades,” Dr. Ogbunu said in an interview. “At the same time, this pandemic has also been this wake-up call for many of us with regards to revealing the things we do not understand about the ways viruses infect, spread, and how evolution works within viruses.”

He emphasizes the need for evolutionary biology to partner with other fields – including information theory and biophysics – to help unlock viral mysteries: “We need to think very, very carefully about the way those fields intersect.”

Dr. Nelson also pointed to the need for better, more centralized data gathering in the United States.

The sheer volume of information scientists have collected about SARS-CoV-2 will aid in the study of virus evolution for years to come, said Dr. Koonin.
 

Evolution in medicine

Evolutionary virology and related research can be applied to medicine outside of the context of a global pandemic. “The principles and technical portions of evolutionary virology are very applicable to other diseases, including cancer,” Dr. Koonin said.

Viruses, bacteria, and cancer cells are all evolving systems. Viruses and bacteria are constantly evolving to thwart drugs and vaccines. How physicians and health care professionals practice medicine shapes the selection pressures driving how these pathogens evolve, Dr. Nelson said.

The rise of antibiotic-resistant bacteria is a particularly relevant example of how evolution affects the way physicians treat patients. Having an evolutionary perspective can help inform how to treat patients most effectively, both for individual patients as well as for broader public health, she said.

“For a long time, there’s been a lot of interest in pathogen evolution that hasn’t translated so much into clinical practice,” said Dr. Nelson. “There’s been kind of a gulf between the research side of evolutionary virology and pathogen emergence and actual practice of medicine.”

As genomic sequencing has become faster and cheaper, that gulf has started to narrow, she said. As this technology continues to prove itself by, for example, tracking the evolution of one virus in real time, Dr. Nelson hopes there will be a positive snowball effect, leading to more attention, investment, and improvements in genomic data and that its use in epidemiology and medicine will expand going forward.

Bringing viral evolution studies more into medicine will require a mindset shift, Dr. Ogbunu said. Clinical practice is, by design, very focused on the individual patient. Evolutionary biology, on the other hand, deals with populations and probabilities.

Being able to engage with evolutionary biology would help physicians better understand disease and explain it to their patients, he said.

To start, Dr. Nelson recommended requiring at least one course in evolutionary biology or evolutionary medicine in medical school and crafting continuing education in this area for physicians. (Presentations at conferences could be one way to do this.)

Dr. Nelson also recommended deeper engagement and collaboration between physicians who collect samples from patients and evolutionary biologists who analyze genetic data. This would improve the quality of the data, the analysis, and the eventual findings that could be relevant to patients and clinical practice.

Still, “my first and inevitable reaction is I would so much rather prefer to exist in relative obscurity,” said Dr. Koonin, noting that the tragedy of the pandemic outweighs the advancements in the field.

Although there’s no going back to prepandemic times, there is an enormous opportunity in the aftermath of COVID to increase dialogue between physicians and evolutionary virologists to improve medical practice as well as public health.

Dr. Nelson summed it up: “Everything we uncover about these pathogens may help us prevent something like this again.”

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

For well over a year, the COVID-19 pandemic has been the biggest story in the world, costing millions of lives, impacting a presidential election, and quaking economies around the world.

But as vaccination rates increase and restrictions relax across the United States, relief is beginning to mix with reflection. Part of that contemplation means grappling with how the media depicted the crisis – in ways that were helpful, harmful, and somewhere in between.

“This story was so overwhelming, and the amount of journalism done about it was also overwhelming, and it’s going to be a while before we can do any kind of comprehensive overview of how journalism really performed,” said Maryn McKenna, an independent journalist and journalism professor at Emory University, Atlanta, who specializes in public and global health.
 

Some ‘heroically good’ reporting

The pandemic hit at a time when journalism was under a lot of pressure from external forces – undermined by politics, swimming through a sea of misinformation, and pressed by financial pressure to produce more stories more quickly, said Emily Bell, founding director of the Tow Center for Digital Journalism at Columbia University, New York.

The pandemic drove enormous audiences to news outlets, as people searched for reliable information, and increased the appreciation many people felt for the work of journalists, she said.

“I think there’s been some heroically good reporting and some really empathetic reporting as well,” said Ms. Bell. She cites The New York Times stories honoring the nearly 100,000 people lost to COVID-19 in May 2020 and The Atlantic’s COVID Tracking Project as exceptionally good examples.

Journalism is part of a complex, and evolving, information ecosystem characterized by “traditional” television, radio, and newspapers but also social media, search engine results, niche online news outlets, and clickbait sites.

On the one hand, social media provided a way for physicians, nurses, and scientists to speak directly to the world about their experiences and research. On the other hand, it’s challenging to elevate the really good work of traditional media over all of the bad or unhelpful signals, said Ms. Bell.

But, at the end of the day, much of journalism is a business. There are incentives in the market for tabloids to do sensational coverage and for outlets to push misleading, clickbait headlines, Ms. Bell said.

“Sometimes we’ll criticize journalists for ‘getting it wrong,’ but they might be getting it right in their business model but getting it wrong in terms of what it’s doing for society,” she said.

“We need to do a self-examination, when or if the dust from this ever settles, [on] how much of the past year was viewed as a business opportunity and did that get in the way of informing the public adequately,” Ms. McKenna said.

Digital platforms and journalists also need to reflect on how narratives build on one another, particularly online, said Ms. Bell. If you search for side effects of the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, for example, you will see a list of dozens of headlines that might give you the impression this is a major problem without the context that these effects are exceedingly rare, she notes.

There was also a personnel problem. Shrinking newsrooms over the last decade meant many outlets didn’t have dedicated science and health reporting, or very few staffers, if any. During the pandemic, suddenly general assignment and politics reporters had to be science and health reporters, too.

“You have a hard enough time with these issues if you’re a fairly seasoned science journalist,” said Gary Schwitzer, a former head of the health care news unit for CNN, journalism professor at the University of Minnesota, and founder of the watchdog site HealthNewsReview.org.

And outlets that had the staffing didn’t always put science reporters to full use, Ms. McKenna said. In March and April of 2020, major media outlets should have sent science reporters, not politics reporters, to President Donald Trump’s White House press briefings, which often included incorrect statements about COVID-19 science.

“I just don’t feel that the big outlets understood that that expertise would have made a difference,” she said.
 

New challenges, old problems

Some of the science journalism done during the pandemic has been some of the best ever seen in this country, said Mr. Schwitzer. But between the peaks of excellence, there is “the daily drumbeat coverage of dreck,” he added.

Many of the issues with this dreck coverage aren’t new or unique to the pandemic. For example, over the last year there have been far too many news stories based solely on weak information sources, like a drug company press release or a not-yet-peer-reviewed preprint article that hasn’t been put into proper context, said Mr. Schwitzer.

A quality science story should always include an independent perspective, he said, but many COVID-19 stories missed that perspective. This isn’t a new issue for science coverage – at Health News Review, Mr. Schwitzer and his colleagues saw stories without appropriate independent sources every day for 15 years.

It’s also challenging to write about uncertainty without over- or underselling what scientists know about a particular phenomenon. “We know that the media in general tends to portray science as more certain than it is,” said Dominique Brossard, PhD, professor and department chair at the University of Wisconsin–Madison and an expert on the intersection between science, media, and policy. This can lead to confusion when the science, and the advice based on that science, changes.

“The public has a really difficult time understanding what uncertainty means within science,” said Todd P. Newman, PhD, assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who studies strategic communication within the context of science, technology, and the environment.

“I think the media generally has been good on the subject,” said Paul Offit, MD, director of the Vaccine Education Center, attending physician in the Division of Infectious Diseases at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and a prominent expert voice throughout the pandemic. “I think where they’ve been imperfect is they tend to be a little more dramatic in terms of how we’re doing.”

Dr. Offit isn’t the only expert to point to the drama of COVID-19 coverage. A study published in March 2021 by the National Bureau of Economic Research found 87% of stories by major U.S. media outlets leaned negative in the tone of their COVID-19 reporting, compared with 50% of stories from non-U.S. major outlets and 64% of articles in scientific journals. The negative emphasis persists even around positive developments, like vaccine trials and school re-openings.

John Whyte, MD, chief medical officer for WebMD, said he is very proud of the way WebMD and Medscape ramped up production of video series and other content to give health care providers the most up-to-date guidance on a rapidly evolving medical situation.

“But I think as [we] started to make progress – especially in the last 6 months – the coverage was never balanced enough; any positive news was immediately proceeded by negative,” he said.

“You want to be honest, but you also don’t want to be alarmist – and that’s where I think the challenge is at times in the media,” said Dr. Whyte. “We didn’t put enough optimism in at times, especially in recent months.”

“Any good coverage on vaccines immediately [was] covered by ‘[we] might need boosters in the fall.’ Why can’t [we] have an opportunity to breathe for a little while and see the good news?” he asked.
 

Variants or scariants?

Negativity and fear shaped much of the coverage around variants and vaccines earlier this year. In February 2021, Zeynep Tufekci, PhD, a sociologist at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill school of information and library science, wrote in The Atlantic about how much reporting has not reflected “the truly amazing reality of these vaccines,” and has instead highlighted “a chorus of relentless pessimism.”

This felt especially true earlier in 2021, when lots of coverage repeatedly emphasized what vaccinated people still could not do.

Eric Topol, MD, editor-in-chief of Medscape and executive vice president of Scripps Research in La Jolla, California, said New York Times editors told him earlier in the pandemic that he couldn’t use the word “scariant” in an opinion piece about the media’s overly fearful and sometimes inaccurate reporting around COVID-19 variants because they worried it would seem like the Times was coming after other media outlets.

“A variant is innocent until proven guilty,” said Dr. Topol. Had journalists approached the subject from that point of view, he said we would have seen “much more faithful reporting.”

Dr. Brossard and Dr. Newman worry that focusing on uncommon negative behavior, like people who break social distancing and mask rules by gathering at the beach or the bar, makes those actions seem more common than they actually are.

The evidence suggests that “if you show these kinds of things to people, you encourage them to do the same behavior,” said Dr. Brossard.

There have been other mistakes along the way, too. Early in the pandemic, many outlets pointed viewers to official government sources of information, some of which, like the White House press briefings in March and April of 2020, ended up being some of the most virulent spreaders of misinformation, said Ms. Bell.

Before that, a handful of journalists like Roxanne Khamsi were the few pushing back against the dominant media narrative in early 2020 that the novel coronavirus was less concerning than the seasonal flu.

“Science journalists have always been writing about studies that sometimes contradict each other, and what’s happened is that has only been condensed in time,” said Ms. Khamsi, a health care reporter for outlets like WIRED magazine and The New York Times and a former chief news editor for Nature Medicine.
 

Politics and misinformation

It’s impossible to talk about media coverage of COVID-19 without touching on politics and misinformation.

Coverage of the pandemic was politicized and polarized from the very beginning, said Sedona Chinn, PhD, an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who researches the prevalence and effects of scientific disagreements in media.

By looking at network news transcripts and articles from national outlets like the Washington Post and The New York Times, Dr. Chinn and her colleagues were able to determine politicization of coverage by counting the mentions of politicians versus scientists in COVID-19 coverage and polarization by looking at how different or similar the language was surrounding mentions of Republicans and Democrats.

If the two parties were working together or on the same page, they reasoned, the language would be similar.

From mid-March through May 2020, Dr. Chinn and fellow researchers found politicians were featured more often than scientists in newspaper coverage and as frequently as scientists in network news coverage. They also found polarized language around Republicans and Democrats, particularly in stories describing duels between the (at the time) Republican national government and Democratic state and local leaders.

It’s possible that polarization in news coverage helped contribute to polarized attitudes around the virus, the authors write in the study, which was published in August 2020 in the journal Science Communication.

The politicization and polarization of the issue is mirrored in our fractured media environment, where people tend to read, listen, and watch outlets that align with their political leanings. If that trusted outlet features misinformation, the people who follow it are more likely to accept that false information as truth, said Matt Motta, PhD, a political scientist at Oklahoma State University whose research includes public opinion and science communication.

This is true across the political spectrum, he said. When it comes to COVID-19, however, right-wing media outlets like Fox News and Breitbart are more likely to promote conspiratorial tropes and misinformation about the pandemic, according to Dr. Motta and his collaborator Dominik Stecula, PhD, a political scientist at Colorado State University who studies the news media environment and its effects on society.

Across the media ecosystem, reporting on the “infodemic” accompanying the pandemic – the rapid spread of misinformation and disinformation about the virus – has been a major challenge. Outlets may not be creating the misinformation, but they are the ones choosing to give it a platform, said Dr. Motta.

By repeating a false idea, even with the goal of debunking it, you can unintentionally cause the information to stick in people’s minds, said Dr. Brossard.

“Just because something is controversial doesn’t mean it’s worth covering,” said Dr. Motta. Using vaccines as an example, he said many reporters and scientists alike assume that if people have all the facts, they’ll land on the side of science.

“That is just fundamentally not how people think about the decision to get vaccinated,” he said. Instead, the choice is wrapped up with cultural factors, religious beliefs, political identity, and more.

The factors and challenges that shaped the media’s coverage of the pandemic aren’t going anywhere. Improving science and medical coverage in the future is a collective project for journalists, scientists, and everyone in between, said Dr. Newman.

“I call on scientists, too, to think really deeply about how they’re communicating – and especially how they’re communicating what they know and don’t know,” he said.

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

For well over a year, the COVID-19 pandemic has been the biggest story in the world, costing millions of lives, impacting a presidential election, and quaking economies around the world.

But as vaccination rates increase and restrictions relax across the United States, relief is beginning to mix with reflection. Part of that contemplation means grappling with how the media depicted the crisis – in ways that were helpful, harmful, and somewhere in between.

“This story was so overwhelming, and the amount of journalism done about it was also overwhelming, and it’s going to be a while before we can do any kind of comprehensive overview of how journalism really performed,” said Maryn McKenna, an independent journalist and journalism professor at Emory University, Atlanta, who specializes in public and global health.
 

Some ‘heroically good’ reporting

The pandemic hit at a time when journalism was under a lot of pressure from external forces – undermined by politics, swimming through a sea of misinformation, and pressed by financial pressure to produce more stories more quickly, said Emily Bell, founding director of the Tow Center for Digital Journalism at Columbia University, New York.

The pandemic drove enormous audiences to news outlets, as people searched for reliable information, and increased the appreciation many people felt for the work of journalists, she said.

“I think there’s been some heroically good reporting and some really empathetic reporting as well,” said Ms. Bell. She cites The New York Times stories honoring the nearly 100,000 people lost to COVID-19 in May 2020 and The Atlantic’s COVID Tracking Project as exceptionally good examples.

Journalism is part of a complex, and evolving, information ecosystem characterized by “traditional” television, radio, and newspapers but also social media, search engine results, niche online news outlets, and clickbait sites.

On the one hand, social media provided a way for physicians, nurses, and scientists to speak directly to the world about their experiences and research. On the other hand, it’s challenging to elevate the really good work of traditional media over all of the bad or unhelpful signals, said Ms. Bell.

But, at the end of the day, much of journalism is a business. There are incentives in the market for tabloids to do sensational coverage and for outlets to push misleading, clickbait headlines, Ms. Bell said.

“Sometimes we’ll criticize journalists for ‘getting it wrong,’ but they might be getting it right in their business model but getting it wrong in terms of what it’s doing for society,” she said.

“We need to do a self-examination, when or if the dust from this ever settles, [on] how much of the past year was viewed as a business opportunity and did that get in the way of informing the public adequately,” Ms. McKenna said.

Digital platforms and journalists also need to reflect on how narratives build on one another, particularly online, said Ms. Bell. If you search for side effects of the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, for example, you will see a list of dozens of headlines that might give you the impression this is a major problem without the context that these effects are exceedingly rare, she notes.

There was also a personnel problem. Shrinking newsrooms over the last decade meant many outlets didn’t have dedicated science and health reporting, or very few staffers, if any. During the pandemic, suddenly general assignment and politics reporters had to be science and health reporters, too.

“You have a hard enough time with these issues if you’re a fairly seasoned science journalist,” said Gary Schwitzer, a former head of the health care news unit for CNN, journalism professor at the University of Minnesota, and founder of the watchdog site HealthNewsReview.org.

And outlets that had the staffing didn’t always put science reporters to full use, Ms. McKenna said. In March and April of 2020, major media outlets should have sent science reporters, not politics reporters, to President Donald Trump’s White House press briefings, which often included incorrect statements about COVID-19 science.

“I just don’t feel that the big outlets understood that that expertise would have made a difference,” she said.
 

New challenges, old problems

Some of the science journalism done during the pandemic has been some of the best ever seen in this country, said Mr. Schwitzer. But between the peaks of excellence, there is “the daily drumbeat coverage of dreck,” he added.

Many of the issues with this dreck coverage aren’t new or unique to the pandemic. For example, over the last year there have been far too many news stories based solely on weak information sources, like a drug company press release or a not-yet-peer-reviewed preprint article that hasn’t been put into proper context, said Mr. Schwitzer.

A quality science story should always include an independent perspective, he said, but many COVID-19 stories missed that perspective. This isn’t a new issue for science coverage – at Health News Review, Mr. Schwitzer and his colleagues saw stories without appropriate independent sources every day for 15 years.

It’s also challenging to write about uncertainty without over- or underselling what scientists know about a particular phenomenon. “We know that the media in general tends to portray science as more certain than it is,” said Dominique Brossard, PhD, professor and department chair at the University of Wisconsin–Madison and an expert on the intersection between science, media, and policy. This can lead to confusion when the science, and the advice based on that science, changes.

“The public has a really difficult time understanding what uncertainty means within science,” said Todd P. Newman, PhD, assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who studies strategic communication within the context of science, technology, and the environment.

“I think the media generally has been good on the subject,” said Paul Offit, MD, director of the Vaccine Education Center, attending physician in the Division of Infectious Diseases at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and a prominent expert voice throughout the pandemic. “I think where they’ve been imperfect is they tend to be a little more dramatic in terms of how we’re doing.”

Dr. Offit isn’t the only expert to point to the drama of COVID-19 coverage. A study published in March 2021 by the National Bureau of Economic Research found 87% of stories by major U.S. media outlets leaned negative in the tone of their COVID-19 reporting, compared with 50% of stories from non-U.S. major outlets and 64% of articles in scientific journals. The negative emphasis persists even around positive developments, like vaccine trials and school re-openings.

John Whyte, MD, chief medical officer for WebMD, said he is very proud of the way WebMD and Medscape ramped up production of video series and other content to give health care providers the most up-to-date guidance on a rapidly evolving medical situation.

“But I think as [we] started to make progress – especially in the last 6 months – the coverage was never balanced enough; any positive news was immediately proceeded by negative,” he said.

“You want to be honest, but you also don’t want to be alarmist – and that’s where I think the challenge is at times in the media,” said Dr. Whyte. “We didn’t put enough optimism in at times, especially in recent months.”

“Any good coverage on vaccines immediately [was] covered by ‘[we] might need boosters in the fall.’ Why can’t [we] have an opportunity to breathe for a little while and see the good news?” he asked.
 

Variants or scariants?

Negativity and fear shaped much of the coverage around variants and vaccines earlier this year. In February 2021, Zeynep Tufekci, PhD, a sociologist at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill school of information and library science, wrote in The Atlantic about how much reporting has not reflected “the truly amazing reality of these vaccines,” and has instead highlighted “a chorus of relentless pessimism.”

This felt especially true earlier in 2021, when lots of coverage repeatedly emphasized what vaccinated people still could not do.

Eric Topol, MD, editor-in-chief of Medscape and executive vice president of Scripps Research in La Jolla, California, said New York Times editors told him earlier in the pandemic that he couldn’t use the word “scariant” in an opinion piece about the media’s overly fearful and sometimes inaccurate reporting around COVID-19 variants because they worried it would seem like the Times was coming after other media outlets.

“A variant is innocent until proven guilty,” said Dr. Topol. Had journalists approached the subject from that point of view, he said we would have seen “much more faithful reporting.”

Dr. Brossard and Dr. Newman worry that focusing on uncommon negative behavior, like people who break social distancing and mask rules by gathering at the beach or the bar, makes those actions seem more common than they actually are.

The evidence suggests that “if you show these kinds of things to people, you encourage them to do the same behavior,” said Dr. Brossard.

There have been other mistakes along the way, too. Early in the pandemic, many outlets pointed viewers to official government sources of information, some of which, like the White House press briefings in March and April of 2020, ended up being some of the most virulent spreaders of misinformation, said Ms. Bell.

Before that, a handful of journalists like Roxanne Khamsi were the few pushing back against the dominant media narrative in early 2020 that the novel coronavirus was less concerning than the seasonal flu.

“Science journalists have always been writing about studies that sometimes contradict each other, and what’s happened is that has only been condensed in time,” said Ms. Khamsi, a health care reporter for outlets like WIRED magazine and The New York Times and a former chief news editor for Nature Medicine.
 

Politics and misinformation

It’s impossible to talk about media coverage of COVID-19 without touching on politics and misinformation.

Coverage of the pandemic was politicized and polarized from the very beginning, said Sedona Chinn, PhD, an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who researches the prevalence and effects of scientific disagreements in media.

By looking at network news transcripts and articles from national outlets like the Washington Post and The New York Times, Dr. Chinn and her colleagues were able to determine politicization of coverage by counting the mentions of politicians versus scientists in COVID-19 coverage and polarization by looking at how different or similar the language was surrounding mentions of Republicans and Democrats.

If the two parties were working together or on the same page, they reasoned, the language would be similar.

From mid-March through May 2020, Dr. Chinn and fellow researchers found politicians were featured more often than scientists in newspaper coverage and as frequently as scientists in network news coverage. They also found polarized language around Republicans and Democrats, particularly in stories describing duels between the (at the time) Republican national government and Democratic state and local leaders.

It’s possible that polarization in news coverage helped contribute to polarized attitudes around the virus, the authors write in the study, which was published in August 2020 in the journal Science Communication.

The politicization and polarization of the issue is mirrored in our fractured media environment, where people tend to read, listen, and watch outlets that align with their political leanings. If that trusted outlet features misinformation, the people who follow it are more likely to accept that false information as truth, said Matt Motta, PhD, a political scientist at Oklahoma State University whose research includes public opinion and science communication.

This is true across the political spectrum, he said. When it comes to COVID-19, however, right-wing media outlets like Fox News and Breitbart are more likely to promote conspiratorial tropes and misinformation about the pandemic, according to Dr. Motta and his collaborator Dominik Stecula, PhD, a political scientist at Colorado State University who studies the news media environment and its effects on society.

Across the media ecosystem, reporting on the “infodemic” accompanying the pandemic – the rapid spread of misinformation and disinformation about the virus – has been a major challenge. Outlets may not be creating the misinformation, but they are the ones choosing to give it a platform, said Dr. Motta.

By repeating a false idea, even with the goal of debunking it, you can unintentionally cause the information to stick in people’s minds, said Dr. Brossard.

“Just because something is controversial doesn’t mean it’s worth covering,” said Dr. Motta. Using vaccines as an example, he said many reporters and scientists alike assume that if people have all the facts, they’ll land on the side of science.

“That is just fundamentally not how people think about the decision to get vaccinated,” he said. Instead, the choice is wrapped up with cultural factors, religious beliefs, political identity, and more.

The factors and challenges that shaped the media’s coverage of the pandemic aren’t going anywhere. Improving science and medical coverage in the future is a collective project for journalists, scientists, and everyone in between, said Dr. Newman.

“I call on scientists, too, to think really deeply about how they’re communicating – and especially how they’re communicating what they know and don’t know,” he said.

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

For well over a year, the COVID-19 pandemic has been the biggest story in the world, costing millions of lives, impacting a presidential election, and quaking economies around the world.

But as vaccination rates increase and restrictions relax across the United States, relief is beginning to mix with reflection. Part of that contemplation means grappling with how the media depicted the crisis – in ways that were helpful, harmful, and somewhere in between.

“This story was so overwhelming, and the amount of journalism done about it was also overwhelming, and it’s going to be a while before we can do any kind of comprehensive overview of how journalism really performed,” said Maryn McKenna, an independent journalist and journalism professor at Emory University, Atlanta, who specializes in public and global health.
 

Some ‘heroically good’ reporting

The pandemic hit at a time when journalism was under a lot of pressure from external forces – undermined by politics, swimming through a sea of misinformation, and pressed by financial pressure to produce more stories more quickly, said Emily Bell, founding director of the Tow Center for Digital Journalism at Columbia University, New York.

The pandemic drove enormous audiences to news outlets, as people searched for reliable information, and increased the appreciation many people felt for the work of journalists, she said.

“I think there’s been some heroically good reporting and some really empathetic reporting as well,” said Ms. Bell. She cites The New York Times stories honoring the nearly 100,000 people lost to COVID-19 in May 2020 and The Atlantic’s COVID Tracking Project as exceptionally good examples.

Journalism is part of a complex, and evolving, information ecosystem characterized by “traditional” television, radio, and newspapers but also social media, search engine results, niche online news outlets, and clickbait sites.

On the one hand, social media provided a way for physicians, nurses, and scientists to speak directly to the world about their experiences and research. On the other hand, it’s challenging to elevate the really good work of traditional media over all of the bad or unhelpful signals, said Ms. Bell.

But, at the end of the day, much of journalism is a business. There are incentives in the market for tabloids to do sensational coverage and for outlets to push misleading, clickbait headlines, Ms. Bell said.

“Sometimes we’ll criticize journalists for ‘getting it wrong,’ but they might be getting it right in their business model but getting it wrong in terms of what it’s doing for society,” she said.

“We need to do a self-examination, when or if the dust from this ever settles, [on] how much of the past year was viewed as a business opportunity and did that get in the way of informing the public adequately,” Ms. McKenna said.

Digital platforms and journalists also need to reflect on how narratives build on one another, particularly online, said Ms. Bell. If you search for side effects of the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, for example, you will see a list of dozens of headlines that might give you the impression this is a major problem without the context that these effects are exceedingly rare, she notes.

There was also a personnel problem. Shrinking newsrooms over the last decade meant many outlets didn’t have dedicated science and health reporting, or very few staffers, if any. During the pandemic, suddenly general assignment and politics reporters had to be science and health reporters, too.

“You have a hard enough time with these issues if you’re a fairly seasoned science journalist,” said Gary Schwitzer, a former head of the health care news unit for CNN, journalism professor at the University of Minnesota, and founder of the watchdog site HealthNewsReview.org.

And outlets that had the staffing didn’t always put science reporters to full use, Ms. McKenna said. In March and April of 2020, major media outlets should have sent science reporters, not politics reporters, to President Donald Trump’s White House press briefings, which often included incorrect statements about COVID-19 science.

“I just don’t feel that the big outlets understood that that expertise would have made a difference,” she said.
 

New challenges, old problems

Some of the science journalism done during the pandemic has been some of the best ever seen in this country, said Mr. Schwitzer. But between the peaks of excellence, there is “the daily drumbeat coverage of dreck,” he added.

Many of the issues with this dreck coverage aren’t new or unique to the pandemic. For example, over the last year there have been far too many news stories based solely on weak information sources, like a drug company press release or a not-yet-peer-reviewed preprint article that hasn’t been put into proper context, said Mr. Schwitzer.

A quality science story should always include an independent perspective, he said, but many COVID-19 stories missed that perspective. This isn’t a new issue for science coverage – at Health News Review, Mr. Schwitzer and his colleagues saw stories without appropriate independent sources every day for 15 years.

It’s also challenging to write about uncertainty without over- or underselling what scientists know about a particular phenomenon. “We know that the media in general tends to portray science as more certain than it is,” said Dominique Brossard, PhD, professor and department chair at the University of Wisconsin–Madison and an expert on the intersection between science, media, and policy. This can lead to confusion when the science, and the advice based on that science, changes.

“The public has a really difficult time understanding what uncertainty means within science,” said Todd P. Newman, PhD, assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who studies strategic communication within the context of science, technology, and the environment.

“I think the media generally has been good on the subject,” said Paul Offit, MD, director of the Vaccine Education Center, attending physician in the Division of Infectious Diseases at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, and a prominent expert voice throughout the pandemic. “I think where they’ve been imperfect is they tend to be a little more dramatic in terms of how we’re doing.”

Dr. Offit isn’t the only expert to point to the drama of COVID-19 coverage. A study published in March 2021 by the National Bureau of Economic Research found 87% of stories by major U.S. media outlets leaned negative in the tone of their COVID-19 reporting, compared with 50% of stories from non-U.S. major outlets and 64% of articles in scientific journals. The negative emphasis persists even around positive developments, like vaccine trials and school re-openings.

John Whyte, MD, chief medical officer for WebMD, said he is very proud of the way WebMD and Medscape ramped up production of video series and other content to give health care providers the most up-to-date guidance on a rapidly evolving medical situation.

“But I think as [we] started to make progress – especially in the last 6 months – the coverage was never balanced enough; any positive news was immediately proceeded by negative,” he said.

“You want to be honest, but you also don’t want to be alarmist – and that’s where I think the challenge is at times in the media,” said Dr. Whyte. “We didn’t put enough optimism in at times, especially in recent months.”

“Any good coverage on vaccines immediately [was] covered by ‘[we] might need boosters in the fall.’ Why can’t [we] have an opportunity to breathe for a little while and see the good news?” he asked.
 

Variants or scariants?

Negativity and fear shaped much of the coverage around variants and vaccines earlier this year. In February 2021, Zeynep Tufekci, PhD, a sociologist at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill school of information and library science, wrote in The Atlantic about how much reporting has not reflected “the truly amazing reality of these vaccines,” and has instead highlighted “a chorus of relentless pessimism.”

This felt especially true earlier in 2021, when lots of coverage repeatedly emphasized what vaccinated people still could not do.

Eric Topol, MD, editor-in-chief of Medscape and executive vice president of Scripps Research in La Jolla, California, said New York Times editors told him earlier in the pandemic that he couldn’t use the word “scariant” in an opinion piece about the media’s overly fearful and sometimes inaccurate reporting around COVID-19 variants because they worried it would seem like the Times was coming after other media outlets.

“A variant is innocent until proven guilty,” said Dr. Topol. Had journalists approached the subject from that point of view, he said we would have seen “much more faithful reporting.”

Dr. Brossard and Dr. Newman worry that focusing on uncommon negative behavior, like people who break social distancing and mask rules by gathering at the beach or the bar, makes those actions seem more common than they actually are.

The evidence suggests that “if you show these kinds of things to people, you encourage them to do the same behavior,” said Dr. Brossard.

There have been other mistakes along the way, too. Early in the pandemic, many outlets pointed viewers to official government sources of information, some of which, like the White House press briefings in March and April of 2020, ended up being some of the most virulent spreaders of misinformation, said Ms. Bell.

Before that, a handful of journalists like Roxanne Khamsi were the few pushing back against the dominant media narrative in early 2020 that the novel coronavirus was less concerning than the seasonal flu.

“Science journalists have always been writing about studies that sometimes contradict each other, and what’s happened is that has only been condensed in time,” said Ms. Khamsi, a health care reporter for outlets like WIRED magazine and The New York Times and a former chief news editor for Nature Medicine.
 

Politics and misinformation

It’s impossible to talk about media coverage of COVID-19 without touching on politics and misinformation.

Coverage of the pandemic was politicized and polarized from the very beginning, said Sedona Chinn, PhD, an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison who researches the prevalence and effects of scientific disagreements in media.

By looking at network news transcripts and articles from national outlets like the Washington Post and The New York Times, Dr. Chinn and her colleagues were able to determine politicization of coverage by counting the mentions of politicians versus scientists in COVID-19 coverage and polarization by looking at how different or similar the language was surrounding mentions of Republicans and Democrats.

If the two parties were working together or on the same page, they reasoned, the language would be similar.

From mid-March through May 2020, Dr. Chinn and fellow researchers found politicians were featured more often than scientists in newspaper coverage and as frequently as scientists in network news coverage. They also found polarized language around Republicans and Democrats, particularly in stories describing duels between the (at the time) Republican national government and Democratic state and local leaders.

It’s possible that polarization in news coverage helped contribute to polarized attitudes around the virus, the authors write in the study, which was published in August 2020 in the journal Science Communication.

The politicization and polarization of the issue is mirrored in our fractured media environment, where people tend to read, listen, and watch outlets that align with their political leanings. If that trusted outlet features misinformation, the people who follow it are more likely to accept that false information as truth, said Matt Motta, PhD, a political scientist at Oklahoma State University whose research includes public opinion and science communication.

This is true across the political spectrum, he said. When it comes to COVID-19, however, right-wing media outlets like Fox News and Breitbart are more likely to promote conspiratorial tropes and misinformation about the pandemic, according to Dr. Motta and his collaborator Dominik Stecula, PhD, a political scientist at Colorado State University who studies the news media environment and its effects on society.

Across the media ecosystem, reporting on the “infodemic” accompanying the pandemic – the rapid spread of misinformation and disinformation about the virus – has been a major challenge. Outlets may not be creating the misinformation, but they are the ones choosing to give it a platform, said Dr. Motta.

By repeating a false idea, even with the goal of debunking it, you can unintentionally cause the information to stick in people’s minds, said Dr. Brossard.

“Just because something is controversial doesn’t mean it’s worth covering,” said Dr. Motta. Using vaccines as an example, he said many reporters and scientists alike assume that if people have all the facts, they’ll land on the side of science.

“That is just fundamentally not how people think about the decision to get vaccinated,” he said. Instead, the choice is wrapped up with cultural factors, religious beliefs, political identity, and more.

The factors and challenges that shaped the media’s coverage of the pandemic aren’t going anywhere. Improving science and medical coverage in the future is a collective project for journalists, scientists, and everyone in between, said Dr. Newman.

“I call on scientists, too, to think really deeply about how they’re communicating – and especially how they’re communicating what they know and don’t know,” he said.

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

Sarah Sofka, MD, FACP, noticed a pattern. As program director for the internal medicine (IM) residency at West Virginia University, Morgantown, she was informed when residents were sent to counseling because they were affected by burnout, depression, or anxiety. When trainees returned from these visits, many told her the same thing: They wished they had sought help sooner.

IM residents and their families had access to free counseling at WVU, but few used the resource, says Dr. Sofka. “So, we thought, let’s just schedule all of our residents for a therapy visit so they can go and see what it’s like,” she said. “This will hopefully decrease the stigma for seeking mental health care. If everybody’s going, it’s not a big deal.”

In July 2015, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues launched a universal well-being assessment program for the IM residents at WVU. The program leaders automatically scheduled first- and second-year residents for a visit to the faculty staff assistance program counselors. The visits were not mandatory, and residents could choose not to go; but if they did go, they received the entire day of their visit off from work.

Five and a half years after launching their program, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues conducted one of the first studies of the efficacy of an opt-out approach for resident mental wellness. They found that the program led to more counseling visits that were resident initiated and fewer that were mandated, suggesting that residents were seeking help proactively after having to at least consider it.

Opt-out counseling is a recent concept in residency programs – one that’s attracting interest from training programs across the country. Brown University, Providence, R.I.; the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora; University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; and the University of California, San Francisco have at least one residency program that uses the approach.

No time, no access, plenty of stigma

Burnout and mental health are known to be major concerns for health care workers, especially trainees. College graduates starting medical education have lower rates of burnout and depression, compared with demographically matched peers; however, once they’ve started training, medical students, residents, and fellows are more likely to be burned out and exhibit symptoms of depression. The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic is further fraying the well-being of overworked and traumatized health care professionals, and experts predict a mental health crisis will follow the viral crisis.

The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education recently mandated that programs offer wellness services to trainees. Yet this doesn’t mean they are always used; well-known barriers stand between residents, medical students, and physicians and their receiving effective mental health treatment.

“A lack of transparency and clear messaging around what is available, who provides the services, and how to access these services can be a major barrier,” says Erene Stergiopoulos, MD, a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of Toronto. In addition, there can be considerable lag between when a resident realizes they need help and when they manage to find a provider and schedule an appointment, says Dr. Meeks.

How the opt-out approach works

“The idea is by making it opt-out, you really normalize it,” says Maneesh Batra, MD, MPH, associate director of the University of Washington, Seattle, Children’s Hospital residency program. Similar approaches have proven effective at shaping human behavior in other health care settings, including boosting testing rates for HIV and increasing immunization rates for childhood vaccines, Dr. Batra says.

In general, opt-out programs acknowledge that people are busy and won’t take that extra step or click that extra button if they don’t have to, says Oana Tomescu, MD, PhD, associate professor of clinical medicine and pediatrics at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

In 2018, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues at WVU conducted a survey that showed that a majority of residents thought favorably of their opt-out program and said they would return to counseling for follow-up care. In their most recent study, published in the Journal of Graduate Medical Education in 2021, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues found that residents did just that – only 8 of 239 opted out of universally scheduled visits. Resident-initiated visits increased significantly from zero during the 2014-2015 academic year to 23 in 2018-2019. Between those periods, program-mandated visits decreased significantly from 12 to 3.

The initiative has succeeded in creating a culture of openness and caring at WVU, says 2nd-year internal medicine resident Nistha Modi, MD. “It sets the tone for the program – we talk about mental health openly,” says Dr. Modi.

Crucially, the counselors work out of a different building than the hospital where Dr. Modi and her fellow residents work and use a separate electronic medical record system to protect resident privacy. This is hugely important for medical trainees, note Dr. Tomescu, Dr. Gold, and many other experts. The therapists understand residency and medical education, and there is no limit to the number of visits a resident or fellow can make with the program counselors, says Dr. Modi.

Opt-out programs offer a counterbalance to many negative tendencies in residency, says Dr. Meeks. “We’ve normalized so many things that are not healthy and productive. ... We need to counterbalance that with normalizing help seeking. And it’s really difficult to normalize something that’s not part of a system.”
 

Costs, concerns, and systematic support

Providing unlimited, free counseling for trainees can be very beneficial, but it requires adequate funding and personnel resources. Offering unlimited access means that an institution has to follow through in making this degree of care available while also ensuring that the system doesn’t get overwhelmed or is unable to accommodate very sick individuals, says Dr. Gold.

Another concern that experts like Dr. Batra, Dr. Moffit, and Dr. Gold share is that residents who go to their scheduled appointments may not completely buy into the experience because it wasn’t their idea in the first place. Participation alone doesn’t necessarily indicate full acceptance. Program personnel don’t intend for these appointments to be thought of as mandatory, yet residents may still experience them that way. Several leading resident well-being programs instead emphasize outreach to trainees, institutional support, and accessible mental health resources that are – and feel – entirely voluntary.

“If I tell someone that they have to do something, it’s very different than if they arrive at that conclusion for themselves,” says Dr. Batra. “That’s how life works.”

When it comes to cost, a recent study published in Academic Medicine provides encouraging data. At the University of Colorado, an opt-out pilot program for IM and pediatrics interns during the 2017-2018 academic year cost just $940 total, equal to $11.75 per intern. As in West Virginia, the program in Colorado covered the cost of the visit, interns were provided a half day off (whether they attended their appointment or not), and the visits and surveys were entirely optional and confidential. During the 1-year pilot program, 29% of 80 interns attended the scheduled appointment, 56% opted out in advance, and 15% didn’t show up. The majority of interns who were surveyed (85%), however, thought the program should continue and that it had a positive effect on their wellness even if they didn’t attend their appointment.

In West Virginia, program costs are higher. The program has $20,000 in annual funding to cover the opt-out program and unlimited counseling visits for residents and fellows. With that funding, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues were also able to expand the program slightly last year to schedule all the critical care faculty for counseling visits. Cost is a barrier to expanding these services to the entire institution, which Dr. Sofka says she hopes to do one day.

Research in this area is still preliminary. The WVU and Colorado studies provide some of the first evidence in support of an opt-out approach. Eventually, it would be beneficial for multicenter studies and longitudinal research to track the effects of such programs over time, say Dr. Sofka and Ajay Major, MD, MBA, one of the study’s coauthors and a hematology/oncology fellow at the University of Chicago.

Whether a program goes with an opt-out approach or not, the systematic supports – protecting resident privacy, providing flexible scheduling, and more – are crucial.

As Dr. Tomescu notes, wellness shouldn’t be just something trainees have to do. “The key with really working on burnout at a huge level is for all programs and schools to recognize that it’s a shared responsibility.”

“I felt very fortunate that I was able to get some help throughout residency,” says Dr. Modi. “About how to be a better daughter. How to be content with things I have in life. How to be happy, and grateful. With the kind of job we have, I think we sometimes forget to be grateful.”

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

Sarah Sofka, MD, FACP, noticed a pattern. As program director for the internal medicine (IM) residency at West Virginia University, Morgantown, she was informed when residents were sent to counseling because they were affected by burnout, depression, or anxiety. When trainees returned from these visits, many told her the same thing: They wished they had sought help sooner.

IM residents and their families had access to free counseling at WVU, but few used the resource, says Dr. Sofka. “So, we thought, let’s just schedule all of our residents for a therapy visit so they can go and see what it’s like,” she said. “This will hopefully decrease the stigma for seeking mental health care. If everybody’s going, it’s not a big deal.”

In July 2015, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues launched a universal well-being assessment program for the IM residents at WVU. The program leaders automatically scheduled first- and second-year residents for a visit to the faculty staff assistance program counselors. The visits were not mandatory, and residents could choose not to go; but if they did go, they received the entire day of their visit off from work.

Five and a half years after launching their program, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues conducted one of the first studies of the efficacy of an opt-out approach for resident mental wellness. They found that the program led to more counseling visits that were resident initiated and fewer that were mandated, suggesting that residents were seeking help proactively after having to at least consider it.

Opt-out counseling is a recent concept in residency programs – one that’s attracting interest from training programs across the country. Brown University, Providence, R.I.; the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora; University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; and the University of California, San Francisco have at least one residency program that uses the approach.

No time, no access, plenty of stigma

Burnout and mental health are known to be major concerns for health care workers, especially trainees. College graduates starting medical education have lower rates of burnout and depression, compared with demographically matched peers; however, once they’ve started training, medical students, residents, and fellows are more likely to be burned out and exhibit symptoms of depression. The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic is further fraying the well-being of overworked and traumatized health care professionals, and experts predict a mental health crisis will follow the viral crisis.

The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education recently mandated that programs offer wellness services to trainees. Yet this doesn’t mean they are always used; well-known barriers stand between residents, medical students, and physicians and their receiving effective mental health treatment.

“A lack of transparency and clear messaging around what is available, who provides the services, and how to access these services can be a major barrier,” says Erene Stergiopoulos, MD, a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of Toronto. In addition, there can be considerable lag between when a resident realizes they need help and when they manage to find a provider and schedule an appointment, says Dr. Meeks.

How the opt-out approach works

“The idea is by making it opt-out, you really normalize it,” says Maneesh Batra, MD, MPH, associate director of the University of Washington, Seattle, Children’s Hospital residency program. Similar approaches have proven effective at shaping human behavior in other health care settings, including boosting testing rates for HIV and increasing immunization rates for childhood vaccines, Dr. Batra says.

In general, opt-out programs acknowledge that people are busy and won’t take that extra step or click that extra button if they don’t have to, says Oana Tomescu, MD, PhD, associate professor of clinical medicine and pediatrics at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

In 2018, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues at WVU conducted a survey that showed that a majority of residents thought favorably of their opt-out program and said they would return to counseling for follow-up care. In their most recent study, published in the Journal of Graduate Medical Education in 2021, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues found that residents did just that – only 8 of 239 opted out of universally scheduled visits. Resident-initiated visits increased significantly from zero during the 2014-2015 academic year to 23 in 2018-2019. Between those periods, program-mandated visits decreased significantly from 12 to 3.

The initiative has succeeded in creating a culture of openness and caring at WVU, says 2nd-year internal medicine resident Nistha Modi, MD. “It sets the tone for the program – we talk about mental health openly,” says Dr. Modi.

Crucially, the counselors work out of a different building than the hospital where Dr. Modi and her fellow residents work and use a separate electronic medical record system to protect resident privacy. This is hugely important for medical trainees, note Dr. Tomescu, Dr. Gold, and many other experts. The therapists understand residency and medical education, and there is no limit to the number of visits a resident or fellow can make with the program counselors, says Dr. Modi.

Opt-out programs offer a counterbalance to many negative tendencies in residency, says Dr. Meeks. “We’ve normalized so many things that are not healthy and productive. ... We need to counterbalance that with normalizing help seeking. And it’s really difficult to normalize something that’s not part of a system.”
 

Costs, concerns, and systematic support

Providing unlimited, free counseling for trainees can be very beneficial, but it requires adequate funding and personnel resources. Offering unlimited access means that an institution has to follow through in making this degree of care available while also ensuring that the system doesn’t get overwhelmed or is unable to accommodate very sick individuals, says Dr. Gold.

Another concern that experts like Dr. Batra, Dr. Moffit, and Dr. Gold share is that residents who go to their scheduled appointments may not completely buy into the experience because it wasn’t their idea in the first place. Participation alone doesn’t necessarily indicate full acceptance. Program personnel don’t intend for these appointments to be thought of as mandatory, yet residents may still experience them that way. Several leading resident well-being programs instead emphasize outreach to trainees, institutional support, and accessible mental health resources that are – and feel – entirely voluntary.

“If I tell someone that they have to do something, it’s very different than if they arrive at that conclusion for themselves,” says Dr. Batra. “That’s how life works.”

When it comes to cost, a recent study published in Academic Medicine provides encouraging data. At the University of Colorado, an opt-out pilot program for IM and pediatrics interns during the 2017-2018 academic year cost just $940 total, equal to $11.75 per intern. As in West Virginia, the program in Colorado covered the cost of the visit, interns were provided a half day off (whether they attended their appointment or not), and the visits and surveys were entirely optional and confidential. During the 1-year pilot program, 29% of 80 interns attended the scheduled appointment, 56% opted out in advance, and 15% didn’t show up. The majority of interns who were surveyed (85%), however, thought the program should continue and that it had a positive effect on their wellness even if they didn’t attend their appointment.

In West Virginia, program costs are higher. The program has $20,000 in annual funding to cover the opt-out program and unlimited counseling visits for residents and fellows. With that funding, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues were also able to expand the program slightly last year to schedule all the critical care faculty for counseling visits. Cost is a barrier to expanding these services to the entire institution, which Dr. Sofka says she hopes to do one day.

Research in this area is still preliminary. The WVU and Colorado studies provide some of the first evidence in support of an opt-out approach. Eventually, it would be beneficial for multicenter studies and longitudinal research to track the effects of such programs over time, say Dr. Sofka and Ajay Major, MD, MBA, one of the study’s coauthors and a hematology/oncology fellow at the University of Chicago.

Whether a program goes with an opt-out approach or not, the systematic supports – protecting resident privacy, providing flexible scheduling, and more – are crucial.

As Dr. Tomescu notes, wellness shouldn’t be just something trainees have to do. “The key with really working on burnout at a huge level is for all programs and schools to recognize that it’s a shared responsibility.”

“I felt very fortunate that I was able to get some help throughout residency,” says Dr. Modi. “About how to be a better daughter. How to be content with things I have in life. How to be happy, and grateful. With the kind of job we have, I think we sometimes forget to be grateful.”

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

Sarah Sofka, MD, FACP, noticed a pattern. As program director for the internal medicine (IM) residency at West Virginia University, Morgantown, she was informed when residents were sent to counseling because they were affected by burnout, depression, or anxiety. When trainees returned from these visits, many told her the same thing: They wished they had sought help sooner.

IM residents and their families had access to free counseling at WVU, but few used the resource, says Dr. Sofka. “So, we thought, let’s just schedule all of our residents for a therapy visit so they can go and see what it’s like,” she said. “This will hopefully decrease the stigma for seeking mental health care. If everybody’s going, it’s not a big deal.”

In July 2015, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues launched a universal well-being assessment program for the IM residents at WVU. The program leaders automatically scheduled first- and second-year residents for a visit to the faculty staff assistance program counselors. The visits were not mandatory, and residents could choose not to go; but if they did go, they received the entire day of their visit off from work.

Five and a half years after launching their program, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues conducted one of the first studies of the efficacy of an opt-out approach for resident mental wellness. They found that the program led to more counseling visits that were resident initiated and fewer that were mandated, suggesting that residents were seeking help proactively after having to at least consider it.

Opt-out counseling is a recent concept in residency programs – one that’s attracting interest from training programs across the country. Brown University, Providence, R.I.; the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora; University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; and the University of California, San Francisco have at least one residency program that uses the approach.

No time, no access, plenty of stigma

Burnout and mental health are known to be major concerns for health care workers, especially trainees. College graduates starting medical education have lower rates of burnout and depression, compared with demographically matched peers; however, once they’ve started training, medical students, residents, and fellows are more likely to be burned out and exhibit symptoms of depression. The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic is further fraying the well-being of overworked and traumatized health care professionals, and experts predict a mental health crisis will follow the viral crisis.

The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education recently mandated that programs offer wellness services to trainees. Yet this doesn’t mean they are always used; well-known barriers stand between residents, medical students, and physicians and their receiving effective mental health treatment.

“A lack of transparency and clear messaging around what is available, who provides the services, and how to access these services can be a major barrier,” says Erene Stergiopoulos, MD, a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of Toronto. In addition, there can be considerable lag between when a resident realizes they need help and when they manage to find a provider and schedule an appointment, says Dr. Meeks.

How the opt-out approach works

“The idea is by making it opt-out, you really normalize it,” says Maneesh Batra, MD, MPH, associate director of the University of Washington, Seattle, Children’s Hospital residency program. Similar approaches have proven effective at shaping human behavior in other health care settings, including boosting testing rates for HIV and increasing immunization rates for childhood vaccines, Dr. Batra says.

In general, opt-out programs acknowledge that people are busy and won’t take that extra step or click that extra button if they don’t have to, says Oana Tomescu, MD, PhD, associate professor of clinical medicine and pediatrics at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

In 2018, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues at WVU conducted a survey that showed that a majority of residents thought favorably of their opt-out program and said they would return to counseling for follow-up care. In their most recent study, published in the Journal of Graduate Medical Education in 2021, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues found that residents did just that – only 8 of 239 opted out of universally scheduled visits. Resident-initiated visits increased significantly from zero during the 2014-2015 academic year to 23 in 2018-2019. Between those periods, program-mandated visits decreased significantly from 12 to 3.

The initiative has succeeded in creating a culture of openness and caring at WVU, says 2nd-year internal medicine resident Nistha Modi, MD. “It sets the tone for the program – we talk about mental health openly,” says Dr. Modi.

Crucially, the counselors work out of a different building than the hospital where Dr. Modi and her fellow residents work and use a separate electronic medical record system to protect resident privacy. This is hugely important for medical trainees, note Dr. Tomescu, Dr. Gold, and many other experts. The therapists understand residency and medical education, and there is no limit to the number of visits a resident or fellow can make with the program counselors, says Dr. Modi.

Opt-out programs offer a counterbalance to many negative tendencies in residency, says Dr. Meeks. “We’ve normalized so many things that are not healthy and productive. ... We need to counterbalance that with normalizing help seeking. And it’s really difficult to normalize something that’s not part of a system.”
 

Costs, concerns, and systematic support

Providing unlimited, free counseling for trainees can be very beneficial, but it requires adequate funding and personnel resources. Offering unlimited access means that an institution has to follow through in making this degree of care available while also ensuring that the system doesn’t get overwhelmed or is unable to accommodate very sick individuals, says Dr. Gold.

Another concern that experts like Dr. Batra, Dr. Moffit, and Dr. Gold share is that residents who go to their scheduled appointments may not completely buy into the experience because it wasn’t their idea in the first place. Participation alone doesn’t necessarily indicate full acceptance. Program personnel don’t intend for these appointments to be thought of as mandatory, yet residents may still experience them that way. Several leading resident well-being programs instead emphasize outreach to trainees, institutional support, and accessible mental health resources that are – and feel – entirely voluntary.

“If I tell someone that they have to do something, it’s very different than if they arrive at that conclusion for themselves,” says Dr. Batra. “That’s how life works.”

When it comes to cost, a recent study published in Academic Medicine provides encouraging data. At the University of Colorado, an opt-out pilot program for IM and pediatrics interns during the 2017-2018 academic year cost just $940 total, equal to $11.75 per intern. As in West Virginia, the program in Colorado covered the cost of the visit, interns were provided a half day off (whether they attended their appointment or not), and the visits and surveys were entirely optional and confidential. During the 1-year pilot program, 29% of 80 interns attended the scheduled appointment, 56% opted out in advance, and 15% didn’t show up. The majority of interns who were surveyed (85%), however, thought the program should continue and that it had a positive effect on their wellness even if they didn’t attend their appointment.

In West Virginia, program costs are higher. The program has $20,000 in annual funding to cover the opt-out program and unlimited counseling visits for residents and fellows. With that funding, Dr. Sofka and her colleagues were also able to expand the program slightly last year to schedule all the critical care faculty for counseling visits. Cost is a barrier to expanding these services to the entire institution, which Dr. Sofka says she hopes to do one day.

Research in this area is still preliminary. The WVU and Colorado studies provide some of the first evidence in support of an opt-out approach. Eventually, it would be beneficial for multicenter studies and longitudinal research to track the effects of such programs over time, say Dr. Sofka and Ajay Major, MD, MBA, one of the study’s coauthors and a hematology/oncology fellow at the University of Chicago.

Whether a program goes with an opt-out approach or not, the systematic supports – protecting resident privacy, providing flexible scheduling, and more – are crucial.

As Dr. Tomescu notes, wellness shouldn’t be just something trainees have to do. “The key with really working on burnout at a huge level is for all programs and schools to recognize that it’s a shared responsibility.”

“I felt very fortunate that I was able to get some help throughout residency,” says Dr. Modi. “About how to be a better daughter. How to be content with things I have in life. How to be happy, and grateful. With the kind of job we have, I think we sometimes forget to be grateful.”

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

Physicians who developed a protocol for treating hospitalized patients with COVID-19 they call MATH+ have now published a literature review with observational mortality rates in the Journal of Intensive Care Medicine (JICM) that they say supports the protocol’s use.

The physicians have been promoting their MATH+ protocol as a way to improve survival from severe COVID-19 since the spring, and this is the first time their protocol and any results have been published in a peer-reviewed journal. But because the paper contains only hospital-level mortality rates compared with previously published observational data and clinical trials (not data from a randomized controlled trial testing the protocol), experts remain unconvinced the protocol benefits patients.

“This is not a study by any stretch of the imagination,” Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, told Medscape Medical News via email. “It is comparative data which should never be used to make conclusions of one therapy over another.”

“It’s food for thought for those clinicians [treating COVID-19] and it gives them some options,” said Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, a pulmonary critical care specialist in Wisconsin and one of the protocol developers. “What we really emphasize for this disease is it has to be a combination therapy protocol.”

As Medscape previously reported, MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” includes additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, melatonin, statins, and famotidine. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

The protocol evolved over a few weeks this spring as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action. In March, when Marik and his colleagues formalized the MATH+ protocol, healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients.

Determined to spread a different message, the MATH+ physicians began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team. They tried to get their protocol in front of leading healthcare organizations, like the WHO, and Kory testified remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee in early May. (Kory testified in front of the committee again earlier this month about the use of ivermectin as a COVID-19 treatment. He told Medscape the MATH+ protocol has been updated to include ivermectin since the submission to JICM.)

The physicians have continued promoting the protocol in the summer and fall, even after the RECOVERY trial showed dexamethasone treatment decreased mortality in hospitalized patients with severe COVID-19 and the WHO and other organizations started recommending the drug.

In the newly published JICM article, the researchers describe a mix of randomized controlled trials, observational studies, and basic science research that inform each of the individual pieces of the MATH+ protocol. Some of the cited research pertains specifically to the treatment of COVID-19.

Other studies the authors use to support the protocol are based on data from other viral outbreaks, like H1N1 and SARS-CoV, as well as other medical conditions, like nonviral acute respiratory distress syndrome and sepsis. The researchers did not conduct a randomized controlled trial of MATH+ for patients with COVID-19 because, as they write in the article, they did not believe they had the clinical equipoise required for such a study.

“With respect to each of the individual ‘core’ therapies of MATH+, all authors felt the therapies either superior to any placebo or possessed evidence of minimal risk and cost compared to potential benefit,” they wrote in the paper.

“With a new disease, it is totally reasonable to take your best guess at a therapy,” wrote F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University School of Medicine, in an email to Medscape. “When there is limited information, you go with what you have. What I take issue with here is the authors’ implication that that’s where the scientific process stops. In my mind, it’s actually just the beginning.” Every investigator believes his or her intervention is beneficial but is not sure — that’s why they conduct a randomized controlled trial, Wilson said.

“Without robust trials, we are left with too many options on the table and no way to know what helps — leading to this ‘throw the book at them’ approach, where you just pick your favorite molecule and give it,” said Wilson. 

Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, echoed this sentiment: “Many of the individual components could be expected to provide benefit and combining therapies is something physicians often do,” Parnia said in an email to Medscape. “I think this is a promising approach; however, this ultimately needs to be studied.”

The article includes previously unpublished observational mortality rates from two hospitals where the physicians have used the protocol: United Memorial Hospital in Houston, Texas and Norfolk General Hospital in Norfolk, Virginia. At United Memorial, MATH+ was “systematically” followed for patients admitted to the hospital, and at Norfolk General it was followed for patients admitted to the ICU. The two hospitals treated 140 and 191 COVID-19 patients with MATH+, respectively, as of July 20.

The average observed hospital or 28-day mortality rate at United Memorial was 4.4% and at Norfolk General was 6.1%, for a combined mortality rate of 5.1%. The researchers compared this rate with reported outcomes from 10 studies of more than 400 hospitals in the United States (72 hospitals), the United Kingdom (386), and China (3). The mortality rate for COVID-19 patients at these hospitals ranged from 15.6% to 32%, for an average mortality rate of 22.9%.

The difference in average mortality rates represents a “more than 75% absolute risk reduction in mortality” with MATH+, according to the authors. The data from other hospitals were reported from January to early June, representative of death rates early in the pandemic and before the announcement of the RECOVERY trial results spurred increased use of dexamethasone. 

The new numbers may not be convincing to other physicians.

“The comparison of the outcomes in the two hospitals where this protocol is implemented vs mortality rates in other published studies is quite a stretch,” Wilson told Medscape. “Hospitals with robust research programs that publish large cohorts tend to be tertiary care centers where sick patients get referred. Without data on the baseline characteristics of the patients in these studies, it’s really not appropriate to draw apples-to-apples comparisons.”

“There are many factors that lead to different mortality rates [between hospitals] and it often reflects the quality of general ICU care,” said Parnia. For example, many ICUs were overwhelmed and stretched during the pandemic, while others were not.

“This protocol remains a hypothesis in need of a prospective clinical trial,” said Daniel Kaul, MD, professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “Comparing gross mortality rates from different centers at different times with different case mixes is at most hypothesis generating.”

“The use of comparative data is useless information…not based on true comparison of groups,” said Cassiere of the average mortality rates. Only a randomized, placebo-controlled trial can prove if a treatment is effective. “This protocol should be abandoned.”

“The MATH+ is based on negative evidence,” Cassiere told Medscape, pointing to trials that showed no effect for vitamin C (ascorbic acid) and thiamine in critical illnesses. And, given the “overwhelming positive data’’ for dexamethasone to treat patients with severe COVID-19, its exclusion from MATH+ in favor of a steroid that has not been extensively studied for COVID-19 is “reckless and irresponsible,” he said. 

Kory pushed back strongly against this assertion, pointing to the decades of research on methylprednisolone as a treatment for lung disease and ARDS outlined in the article. “It has far more evidence than dexamethasone,” he told Medscape over the phone.

“Our recommendation is based on a clear understanding of the pharmacological principle to guide prolonged glucocorticoid administration in ARDS and COVID-19,” wrote G. Umberto Meduri, MD, a MATH+ coauthor and professor in the Division of Pulmonary, Critical Care, and Sleep Medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis.

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

Physicians who developed a protocol for treating hospitalized patients with COVID-19 they call MATH+ have now published a literature review with observational mortality rates in the Journal of Intensive Care Medicine (JICM) that they say supports the protocol’s use.

The physicians have been promoting their MATH+ protocol as a way to improve survival from severe COVID-19 since the spring, and this is the first time their protocol and any results have been published in a peer-reviewed journal. But because the paper contains only hospital-level mortality rates compared with previously published observational data and clinical trials (not data from a randomized controlled trial testing the protocol), experts remain unconvinced the protocol benefits patients.

“This is not a study by any stretch of the imagination,” Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, told Medscape Medical News via email. “It is comparative data which should never be used to make conclusions of one therapy over another.”

“It’s food for thought for those clinicians [treating COVID-19] and it gives them some options,” said Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, a pulmonary critical care specialist in Wisconsin and one of the protocol developers. “What we really emphasize for this disease is it has to be a combination therapy protocol.”

As Medscape previously reported, MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” includes additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, melatonin, statins, and famotidine. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

The protocol evolved over a few weeks this spring as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action. In March, when Marik and his colleagues formalized the MATH+ protocol, healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients.

Determined to spread a different message, the MATH+ physicians began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team. They tried to get their protocol in front of leading healthcare organizations, like the WHO, and Kory testified remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee in early May. (Kory testified in front of the committee again earlier this month about the use of ivermectin as a COVID-19 treatment. He told Medscape the MATH+ protocol has been updated to include ivermectin since the submission to JICM.)

The physicians have continued promoting the protocol in the summer and fall, even after the RECOVERY trial showed dexamethasone treatment decreased mortality in hospitalized patients with severe COVID-19 and the WHO and other organizations started recommending the drug.

In the newly published JICM article, the researchers describe a mix of randomized controlled trials, observational studies, and basic science research that inform each of the individual pieces of the MATH+ protocol. Some of the cited research pertains specifically to the treatment of COVID-19.

Other studies the authors use to support the protocol are based on data from other viral outbreaks, like H1N1 and SARS-CoV, as well as other medical conditions, like nonviral acute respiratory distress syndrome and sepsis. The researchers did not conduct a randomized controlled trial of MATH+ for patients with COVID-19 because, as they write in the article, they did not believe they had the clinical equipoise required for such a study.

“With respect to each of the individual ‘core’ therapies of MATH+, all authors felt the therapies either superior to any placebo or possessed evidence of minimal risk and cost compared to potential benefit,” they wrote in the paper.

“With a new disease, it is totally reasonable to take your best guess at a therapy,” wrote F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University School of Medicine, in an email to Medscape. “When there is limited information, you go with what you have. What I take issue with here is the authors’ implication that that’s where the scientific process stops. In my mind, it’s actually just the beginning.” Every investigator believes his or her intervention is beneficial but is not sure — that’s why they conduct a randomized controlled trial, Wilson said.

“Without robust trials, we are left with too many options on the table and no way to know what helps — leading to this ‘throw the book at them’ approach, where you just pick your favorite molecule and give it,” said Wilson. 

Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, echoed this sentiment: “Many of the individual components could be expected to provide benefit and combining therapies is something physicians often do,” Parnia said in an email to Medscape. “I think this is a promising approach; however, this ultimately needs to be studied.”

The article includes previously unpublished observational mortality rates from two hospitals where the physicians have used the protocol: United Memorial Hospital in Houston, Texas and Norfolk General Hospital in Norfolk, Virginia. At United Memorial, MATH+ was “systematically” followed for patients admitted to the hospital, and at Norfolk General it was followed for patients admitted to the ICU. The two hospitals treated 140 and 191 COVID-19 patients with MATH+, respectively, as of July 20.

The average observed hospital or 28-day mortality rate at United Memorial was 4.4% and at Norfolk General was 6.1%, for a combined mortality rate of 5.1%. The researchers compared this rate with reported outcomes from 10 studies of more than 400 hospitals in the United States (72 hospitals), the United Kingdom (386), and China (3). The mortality rate for COVID-19 patients at these hospitals ranged from 15.6% to 32%, for an average mortality rate of 22.9%.

The difference in average mortality rates represents a “more than 75% absolute risk reduction in mortality” with MATH+, according to the authors. The data from other hospitals were reported from January to early June, representative of death rates early in the pandemic and before the announcement of the RECOVERY trial results spurred increased use of dexamethasone. 

The new numbers may not be convincing to other physicians.

“The comparison of the outcomes in the two hospitals where this protocol is implemented vs mortality rates in other published studies is quite a stretch,” Wilson told Medscape. “Hospitals with robust research programs that publish large cohorts tend to be tertiary care centers where sick patients get referred. Without data on the baseline characteristics of the patients in these studies, it’s really not appropriate to draw apples-to-apples comparisons.”

“There are many factors that lead to different mortality rates [between hospitals] and it often reflects the quality of general ICU care,” said Parnia. For example, many ICUs were overwhelmed and stretched during the pandemic, while others were not.

“This protocol remains a hypothesis in need of a prospective clinical trial,” said Daniel Kaul, MD, professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “Comparing gross mortality rates from different centers at different times with different case mixes is at most hypothesis generating.”

“The use of comparative data is useless information…not based on true comparison of groups,” said Cassiere of the average mortality rates. Only a randomized, placebo-controlled trial can prove if a treatment is effective. “This protocol should be abandoned.”

“The MATH+ is based on negative evidence,” Cassiere told Medscape, pointing to trials that showed no effect for vitamin C (ascorbic acid) and thiamine in critical illnesses. And, given the “overwhelming positive data’’ for dexamethasone to treat patients with severe COVID-19, its exclusion from MATH+ in favor of a steroid that has not been extensively studied for COVID-19 is “reckless and irresponsible,” he said. 

Kory pushed back strongly against this assertion, pointing to the decades of research on methylprednisolone as a treatment for lung disease and ARDS outlined in the article. “It has far more evidence than dexamethasone,” he told Medscape over the phone.

“Our recommendation is based on a clear understanding of the pharmacological principle to guide prolonged glucocorticoid administration in ARDS and COVID-19,” wrote G. Umberto Meduri, MD, a MATH+ coauthor and professor in the Division of Pulmonary, Critical Care, and Sleep Medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis.

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

Physicians who developed a protocol for treating hospitalized patients with COVID-19 they call MATH+ have now published a literature review with observational mortality rates in the Journal of Intensive Care Medicine (JICM) that they say supports the protocol’s use.

The physicians have been promoting their MATH+ protocol as a way to improve survival from severe COVID-19 since the spring, and this is the first time their protocol and any results have been published in a peer-reviewed journal. But because the paper contains only hospital-level mortality rates compared with previously published observational data and clinical trials (not data from a randomized controlled trial testing the protocol), experts remain unconvinced the protocol benefits patients.

“This is not a study by any stretch of the imagination,” Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, told Medscape Medical News via email. “It is comparative data which should never be used to make conclusions of one therapy over another.”

“It’s food for thought for those clinicians [treating COVID-19] and it gives them some options,” said Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, a pulmonary critical care specialist in Wisconsin and one of the protocol developers. “What we really emphasize for this disease is it has to be a combination therapy protocol.”

As Medscape previously reported, MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” includes additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, melatonin, statins, and famotidine. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

The protocol evolved over a few weeks this spring as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action. In March, when Marik and his colleagues formalized the MATH+ protocol, healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients.

Determined to spread a different message, the MATH+ physicians began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team. They tried to get their protocol in front of leading healthcare organizations, like the WHO, and Kory testified remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee in early May. (Kory testified in front of the committee again earlier this month about the use of ivermectin as a COVID-19 treatment. He told Medscape the MATH+ protocol has been updated to include ivermectin since the submission to JICM.)

The physicians have continued promoting the protocol in the summer and fall, even after the RECOVERY trial showed dexamethasone treatment decreased mortality in hospitalized patients with severe COVID-19 and the WHO and other organizations started recommending the drug.

In the newly published JICM article, the researchers describe a mix of randomized controlled trials, observational studies, and basic science research that inform each of the individual pieces of the MATH+ protocol. Some of the cited research pertains specifically to the treatment of COVID-19.

Other studies the authors use to support the protocol are based on data from other viral outbreaks, like H1N1 and SARS-CoV, as well as other medical conditions, like nonviral acute respiratory distress syndrome and sepsis. The researchers did not conduct a randomized controlled trial of MATH+ for patients with COVID-19 because, as they write in the article, they did not believe they had the clinical equipoise required for such a study.

“With respect to each of the individual ‘core’ therapies of MATH+, all authors felt the therapies either superior to any placebo or possessed evidence of minimal risk and cost compared to potential benefit,” they wrote in the paper.

“With a new disease, it is totally reasonable to take your best guess at a therapy,” wrote F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University School of Medicine, in an email to Medscape. “When there is limited information, you go with what you have. What I take issue with here is the authors’ implication that that’s where the scientific process stops. In my mind, it’s actually just the beginning.” Every investigator believes his or her intervention is beneficial but is not sure — that’s why they conduct a randomized controlled trial, Wilson said.

“Without robust trials, we are left with too many options on the table and no way to know what helps — leading to this ‘throw the book at them’ approach, where you just pick your favorite molecule and give it,” said Wilson. 

Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, echoed this sentiment: “Many of the individual components could be expected to provide benefit and combining therapies is something physicians often do,” Parnia said in an email to Medscape. “I think this is a promising approach; however, this ultimately needs to be studied.”

The article includes previously unpublished observational mortality rates from two hospitals where the physicians have used the protocol: United Memorial Hospital in Houston, Texas and Norfolk General Hospital in Norfolk, Virginia. At United Memorial, MATH+ was “systematically” followed for patients admitted to the hospital, and at Norfolk General it was followed for patients admitted to the ICU. The two hospitals treated 140 and 191 COVID-19 patients with MATH+, respectively, as of July 20.

The average observed hospital or 28-day mortality rate at United Memorial was 4.4% and at Norfolk General was 6.1%, for a combined mortality rate of 5.1%. The researchers compared this rate with reported outcomes from 10 studies of more than 400 hospitals in the United States (72 hospitals), the United Kingdom (386), and China (3). The mortality rate for COVID-19 patients at these hospitals ranged from 15.6% to 32%, for an average mortality rate of 22.9%.

The difference in average mortality rates represents a “more than 75% absolute risk reduction in mortality” with MATH+, according to the authors. The data from other hospitals were reported from January to early June, representative of death rates early in the pandemic and before the announcement of the RECOVERY trial results spurred increased use of dexamethasone. 

The new numbers may not be convincing to other physicians.

“The comparison of the outcomes in the two hospitals where this protocol is implemented vs mortality rates in other published studies is quite a stretch,” Wilson told Medscape. “Hospitals with robust research programs that publish large cohorts tend to be tertiary care centers where sick patients get referred. Without data on the baseline characteristics of the patients in these studies, it’s really not appropriate to draw apples-to-apples comparisons.”

“There are many factors that lead to different mortality rates [between hospitals] and it often reflects the quality of general ICU care,” said Parnia. For example, many ICUs were overwhelmed and stretched during the pandemic, while others were not.

“This protocol remains a hypothesis in need of a prospective clinical trial,” said Daniel Kaul, MD, professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. “Comparing gross mortality rates from different centers at different times with different case mixes is at most hypothesis generating.”

“The use of comparative data is useless information…not based on true comparison of groups,” said Cassiere of the average mortality rates. Only a randomized, placebo-controlled trial can prove if a treatment is effective. “This protocol should be abandoned.”

“The MATH+ is based on negative evidence,” Cassiere told Medscape, pointing to trials that showed no effect for vitamin C (ascorbic acid) and thiamine in critical illnesses. And, given the “overwhelming positive data’’ for dexamethasone to treat patients with severe COVID-19, its exclusion from MATH+ in favor of a steroid that has not been extensively studied for COVID-19 is “reckless and irresponsible,” he said. 

Kory pushed back strongly against this assertion, pointing to the decades of research on methylprednisolone as a treatment for lung disease and ARDS outlined in the article. “It has far more evidence than dexamethasone,” he told Medscape over the phone.

“Our recommendation is based on a clear understanding of the pharmacological principle to guide prolonged glucocorticoid administration in ARDS and COVID-19,” wrote G. Umberto Meduri, MD, a MATH+ coauthor and professor in the Division of Pulmonary, Critical Care, and Sleep Medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis.

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

As COVID-19 cases mounted in Texas in late June, a local Houston news station shadowed Joseph Varon, MD, making rounds in the intensive care unit at United Memorial Medical Center in Houston. An unseen newscaster tells viewers that Varon credits his success against COVID-19 so far to an experimental and “controversial” drug protocol consisting of vitamins, steroids, and blood thinners.

“This is war. There’s no time to double-blind anything,” Varon tells the camera. “This is working. And if it’s working, I’m going to keep on doing it.”

Varon is one of 10 physicians behind the protocol known as MATH+, which in media interviews and congressional testimony they say has worked to treat COVID-19 patients and save lives in their intensive care units across the country. But response to the protocol among other critical care physicians is mixed, with several physicians, in interviews with Medscape Medical News, urging caution because the benefits and relative risks of the combined medications have not been tested in randomized control trials.

From the earliest days of the pandemic, there’s been tension between the need for rigorous scientific study to understand a novel disease, which takes time, and the need to treat seriously ill patients immediately. Some treatments, like hydroxychloroquine, were promoted without randomized clinical trial data and then later were shown to be ineffective or even potentially harmful when tested.

“This pandemic has shown us there’s lots of ideas out there and they need to be tested and a theoretical basis is insufficient,” says Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious disease at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. The ups and downs with hydroxychloroquine offer a sobering example, he says. “I would argue we have an ethical obligation to do randomized controlled trials to see if our treatments work.”
 

Creating MATH+

MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” holds a place for additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, and melatonin. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

Over a few weeks, the protocol evolved as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action, swapping in methylprednisolone and adding the anticoagulant heparin.

When Marik and colleagues created the protocol in early March, many healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients. The MATH+ physicians decided they needed to spread a different message, and began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team.

Marik says they tried to get their protocol in front of healthcare organizations – including the WHO, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the National Institutes of Health – but received no response. Marik went on Newt Gingrich’s podcast to discuss the protocol in the hopes it would make its way to the White House.

Senator Ron Johnson of Wisconsin saw the protocol and invited Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, who practices in Johnson’s home state, to testify remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee. Kory is a pulmonary critical care specialist about to start a new job at Aurora St. Luke’s Medical Center in Milwaukee.

In his testimony, Kory shared his positive experience using the protocol to treat patients and expressed his dismay that national healthcare organizations came out against the use of corticosteroids for COVID-19 from the early days of the pandemic based on what he called a “tragic error in analysis of medical data.” Although an analysis by national organizations suggested corticosteroids might be dangerous in COVID-19 patients, one of his colleagues came to the opposite conclusion, he said. But these organizations advised supportive care only, and against steroids. “We think that is a fatal and tragic flaw,” Kory said.

“The problem with the protocol early on was that it was heresy,” says Kory, referring to the protocol’s inclusion of corticosteroids before official treatment guidelines. During the height of the pandemic in New York this spring, Kory spent 5 weeks working in the ICU at Mount Sinai Beth Israel in Manhattan. Seeing patients flounder on supportive care, Kory says he used MATH+ successfully during his time in New York, using escalating and pulse doses of corticosteroids to stabilize rapidly deteriorating patients.

The website’s home page initially included an invitation for visitors to donate money to support “getting word of this effective treatment protocol out to physicians and hospitals around the world.” After Medscape Medical News brought up the donation prompt in questions, the physicians decided to remove all calls for donations from the website and social media, communications representative Betsy Ashton said. “Critics are misinterpreting this as some kind of fund-raising operation, when that could hardly be the case,” Ashton said in an email. “They are horrified that anyone would impugn their motives.”

Donations paid for the website designer, webmaster, and her work, Ashton said, and the physicians now have donors who will support publicizing the protocol without online calls for donations. “We have no commercial or vested interest,” Marik said. “I’m not going to make a single cent out of this and it’s obviously very time-consuming.”
 

The basis for the protocol

The protocol is based on common sense, an understanding of scientific literature, and an understanding of COVID-19, Marik says. The website includes links to past research trials and observational studies examining ascorbic acid and thiamine in critically ill patients and early looks at anticoagulants in COVID-19 patients.

They chose methylprednisolone as their corticosteroid based on the expertise of group member G. Umberto Meduri, MD, professor of medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis, Tennessee, who had found the steroid effective in treating acute respiratory distress syndrome. On the MATH+ website, the physicians link to multiple observational studies posted on preprint servers in April and May that suggest methylprednisolone helped COVID-19 patients.

“What’s happened with time is all the elements have been validated by scientific studies, which makes this so cool,” says Marik. The RECOVERY Trial results in particular validated the push to use corticosteroids in COVID-19 patients, he says. But that study used a different steroid, dexamethasone, in much smaller doses than what MATH+ recommends. Revised guidance from the Infectious Diseases Society of America recommends dexamethasone for severely ill patients, but says methylprednisolone and prednisone can be used as substitutes at equivalent doses.

Marik and Kory say that mortality rates for COVID-19 patients at their respective hospitals decreased after they began using the protocol. The physicians have been collecting observational data on their patients, but have not yet published any, and do not plan to conduct a randomized trial.

Several physicians who were not involved in the creation of the protocol say the evidence the physicians cite is not robust enough to warrant the promotion of MATH+ and call for randomized controlled trials. Coming up with a protocol is fine, says Kaul, but “you have to do the hard work of doing a randomized control trial to determine if those drugs given in those combinations work or not.”

“When I looked at it, I thought it was actually not very evidence based,” says Michelle Gong, MD, chief of the Division of Critical Care Medicine at Montefiore Health System in New York City. “It is not something I would recommend for my doctors to do outside of a clinical trial.”

The protocol authors push back against the necessity and feasibility of randomized control trials.

There is no time for a randomized control trial right now, says Jose Iglesias, DO, associate professor at Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine at Seton Hall and critical care specialist at Community Medical Center and Jersey Shore University Medical Center in New Jersey. “Time is limited. We’re busy bedside clinicians taking care of patients, and patients who are dying.”

Marik argues there is not equipoise: It wouldn’t be ethical to randomize patients in a placebo group when the physicians are confident the steroids will help. And the protocol is personalized for each patient, making the standardization required for a randomized control trial incredibly difficult, he says. He also cites “the people who are unwilling to accept our results and just think it’s too good to be true.”

Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at Northwell Health’s North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, said he finds it “very disturbing that this is being propagated.” In the context of a pandemic in which physicians from other specialties are helping out colleagues in ICUs and might follow the protocol uncritically, he worries, “this could potentially lead to harm.”

“I understand the intention; everybody wants to do something, these patients are so sick and the crisis so sharp that we all want to do something to make patients better,” Gong said. “But as physicians taking care of patients we need to make sure we separate the noise from the evidence.”
 

Peer review

The physicians who reviewed MATH+ for Medscape Medical News differed on which parts of the protocol they support and which parts they would change.

Dexamethasone should be the corticosteroid of choice over methylprednisolone, says Cassiere, because it has now been proven effective in the randomized RECOVERY Trial, which also tested dosing and a timetable for treatment.

But Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, thinks methylprednisolone may be effective, and that even higher doses over longer periods of time may stave off recurring pneumonia, based on his experience using the steroid to treat COVID-19 patients in New York.

“What I really like about this protocol is, these guys are very smart, they recommend the need to treat multiple different things at the same time,” says Parnia. COVID-19 is a complex condition, he notes: If physicians are only focused on solving one problem, like hypoxia, patients could still be dying from blood clots.

Despite general concerns about the protocol, Cassiere says he was excited about the inclusion of heparin. Given the extreme levels of clotting seen in COVID-19 patients, he would have included specific D-dimer levels to guide treatment and explored antiplatelet therapies like aspirin. Gong, however, cautioned that she had seen her patients on anticoagulants develop gastrointestinal bleeding, and reiterated the need for clinical evidence. (At least one clinical trial is currently testing the risks and benefits of heparin as an antithrombotic therapy for COVID-19 patients.)

Perhaps the most divisive part of the protocol is the inclusion of ascorbic acid. “That’s the civil war,” says Kory. “It’s the most polarizing medicine.” The authors of the MATH+ protocol were close colleagues before COVID-19 in part because of a mutual research interest in ascorbic acid, he says. Other physicians, including Cassiere, are extremely skeptical that ascorbic acid has any effect, citing recently published studies in the Journal of the American Medical Association that found ascorbic acid ineffective for treating sepsis.

The MATH+ creators say they are working on a literature review of the research behind the protocol, and they plan to write up the observational impacts of the protocol. Marik says he’s not optimistic about getting the findings published in a high-impact journal given the observational nature of the research; the relatively small number of patients treated at hospitals using the protocol (140 patients at Marik’s hospital in Virginia and 180 at Varon’s in Houston, according to Marik); and the vast number of COVID-19 papers being submitted to scientific journals right now.

“This is not a remedy with expensive designer drugs,” Marik said. “No one has any interest in treating patients with cheap, safe, readily available drugs.”

“I hope they’re right if they’re saying this combination of medicines dramatically decreases mortality,” says Taison Bell, MD, director of the medical intensive care unit and assistant professor of medicine at UVA Health in Charlottesville, Virginia.

But physicians have hurt patients in the past with medications they hoped would work, he says. “We have to make sure we’re balancing the risk and the harm with that benefit, and the only way to protect patients from those biases is by doing a randomized controlled trial.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

As COVID-19 cases mounted in Texas in late June, a local Houston news station shadowed Joseph Varon, MD, making rounds in the intensive care unit at United Memorial Medical Center in Houston. An unseen newscaster tells viewers that Varon credits his success against COVID-19 so far to an experimental and “controversial” drug protocol consisting of vitamins, steroids, and blood thinners.

“This is war. There’s no time to double-blind anything,” Varon tells the camera. “This is working. And if it’s working, I’m going to keep on doing it.”

Varon is one of 10 physicians behind the protocol known as MATH+, which in media interviews and congressional testimony they say has worked to treat COVID-19 patients and save lives in their intensive care units across the country. But response to the protocol among other critical care physicians is mixed, with several physicians, in interviews with Medscape Medical News, urging caution because the benefits and relative risks of the combined medications have not been tested in randomized control trials.

From the earliest days of the pandemic, there’s been tension between the need for rigorous scientific study to understand a novel disease, which takes time, and the need to treat seriously ill patients immediately. Some treatments, like hydroxychloroquine, were promoted without randomized clinical trial data and then later were shown to be ineffective or even potentially harmful when tested.

“This pandemic has shown us there’s lots of ideas out there and they need to be tested and a theoretical basis is insufficient,” says Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious disease at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. The ups and downs with hydroxychloroquine offer a sobering example, he says. “I would argue we have an ethical obligation to do randomized controlled trials to see if our treatments work.”
 

Creating MATH+

MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” holds a place for additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, and melatonin. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

Over a few weeks, the protocol evolved as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action, swapping in methylprednisolone and adding the anticoagulant heparin.

When Marik and colleagues created the protocol in early March, many healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients. The MATH+ physicians decided they needed to spread a different message, and began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team.

Marik says they tried to get their protocol in front of healthcare organizations – including the WHO, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the National Institutes of Health – but received no response. Marik went on Newt Gingrich’s podcast to discuss the protocol in the hopes it would make its way to the White House.

Senator Ron Johnson of Wisconsin saw the protocol and invited Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, who practices in Johnson’s home state, to testify remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee. Kory is a pulmonary critical care specialist about to start a new job at Aurora St. Luke’s Medical Center in Milwaukee.

In his testimony, Kory shared his positive experience using the protocol to treat patients and expressed his dismay that national healthcare organizations came out against the use of corticosteroids for COVID-19 from the early days of the pandemic based on what he called a “tragic error in analysis of medical data.” Although an analysis by national organizations suggested corticosteroids might be dangerous in COVID-19 patients, one of his colleagues came to the opposite conclusion, he said. But these organizations advised supportive care only, and against steroids. “We think that is a fatal and tragic flaw,” Kory said.

“The problem with the protocol early on was that it was heresy,” says Kory, referring to the protocol’s inclusion of corticosteroids before official treatment guidelines. During the height of the pandemic in New York this spring, Kory spent 5 weeks working in the ICU at Mount Sinai Beth Israel in Manhattan. Seeing patients flounder on supportive care, Kory says he used MATH+ successfully during his time in New York, using escalating and pulse doses of corticosteroids to stabilize rapidly deteriorating patients.

The website’s home page initially included an invitation for visitors to donate money to support “getting word of this effective treatment protocol out to physicians and hospitals around the world.” After Medscape Medical News brought up the donation prompt in questions, the physicians decided to remove all calls for donations from the website and social media, communications representative Betsy Ashton said. “Critics are misinterpreting this as some kind of fund-raising operation, when that could hardly be the case,” Ashton said in an email. “They are horrified that anyone would impugn their motives.”

Donations paid for the website designer, webmaster, and her work, Ashton said, and the physicians now have donors who will support publicizing the protocol without online calls for donations. “We have no commercial or vested interest,” Marik said. “I’m not going to make a single cent out of this and it’s obviously very time-consuming.”
 

The basis for the protocol

The protocol is based on common sense, an understanding of scientific literature, and an understanding of COVID-19, Marik says. The website includes links to past research trials and observational studies examining ascorbic acid and thiamine in critically ill patients and early looks at anticoagulants in COVID-19 patients.

They chose methylprednisolone as their corticosteroid based on the expertise of group member G. Umberto Meduri, MD, professor of medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis, Tennessee, who had found the steroid effective in treating acute respiratory distress syndrome. On the MATH+ website, the physicians link to multiple observational studies posted on preprint servers in April and May that suggest methylprednisolone helped COVID-19 patients.

“What’s happened with time is all the elements have been validated by scientific studies, which makes this so cool,” says Marik. The RECOVERY Trial results in particular validated the push to use corticosteroids in COVID-19 patients, he says. But that study used a different steroid, dexamethasone, in much smaller doses than what MATH+ recommends. Revised guidance from the Infectious Diseases Society of America recommends dexamethasone for severely ill patients, but says methylprednisolone and prednisone can be used as substitutes at equivalent doses.

Marik and Kory say that mortality rates for COVID-19 patients at their respective hospitals decreased after they began using the protocol. The physicians have been collecting observational data on their patients, but have not yet published any, and do not plan to conduct a randomized trial.

Several physicians who were not involved in the creation of the protocol say the evidence the physicians cite is not robust enough to warrant the promotion of MATH+ and call for randomized controlled trials. Coming up with a protocol is fine, says Kaul, but “you have to do the hard work of doing a randomized control trial to determine if those drugs given in those combinations work or not.”

“When I looked at it, I thought it was actually not very evidence based,” says Michelle Gong, MD, chief of the Division of Critical Care Medicine at Montefiore Health System in New York City. “It is not something I would recommend for my doctors to do outside of a clinical trial.”

The protocol authors push back against the necessity and feasibility of randomized control trials.

There is no time for a randomized control trial right now, says Jose Iglesias, DO, associate professor at Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine at Seton Hall and critical care specialist at Community Medical Center and Jersey Shore University Medical Center in New Jersey. “Time is limited. We’re busy bedside clinicians taking care of patients, and patients who are dying.”

Marik argues there is not equipoise: It wouldn’t be ethical to randomize patients in a placebo group when the physicians are confident the steroids will help. And the protocol is personalized for each patient, making the standardization required for a randomized control trial incredibly difficult, he says. He also cites “the people who are unwilling to accept our results and just think it’s too good to be true.”

Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at Northwell Health’s North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, said he finds it “very disturbing that this is being propagated.” In the context of a pandemic in which physicians from other specialties are helping out colleagues in ICUs and might follow the protocol uncritically, he worries, “this could potentially lead to harm.”

“I understand the intention; everybody wants to do something, these patients are so sick and the crisis so sharp that we all want to do something to make patients better,” Gong said. “But as physicians taking care of patients we need to make sure we separate the noise from the evidence.”
 

Peer review

The physicians who reviewed MATH+ for Medscape Medical News differed on which parts of the protocol they support and which parts they would change.

Dexamethasone should be the corticosteroid of choice over methylprednisolone, says Cassiere, because it has now been proven effective in the randomized RECOVERY Trial, which also tested dosing and a timetable for treatment.

But Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, thinks methylprednisolone may be effective, and that even higher doses over longer periods of time may stave off recurring pneumonia, based on his experience using the steroid to treat COVID-19 patients in New York.

“What I really like about this protocol is, these guys are very smart, they recommend the need to treat multiple different things at the same time,” says Parnia. COVID-19 is a complex condition, he notes: If physicians are only focused on solving one problem, like hypoxia, patients could still be dying from blood clots.

Despite general concerns about the protocol, Cassiere says he was excited about the inclusion of heparin. Given the extreme levels of clotting seen in COVID-19 patients, he would have included specific D-dimer levels to guide treatment and explored antiplatelet therapies like aspirin. Gong, however, cautioned that she had seen her patients on anticoagulants develop gastrointestinal bleeding, and reiterated the need for clinical evidence. (At least one clinical trial is currently testing the risks and benefits of heparin as an antithrombotic therapy for COVID-19 patients.)

Perhaps the most divisive part of the protocol is the inclusion of ascorbic acid. “That’s the civil war,” says Kory. “It’s the most polarizing medicine.” The authors of the MATH+ protocol were close colleagues before COVID-19 in part because of a mutual research interest in ascorbic acid, he says. Other physicians, including Cassiere, are extremely skeptical that ascorbic acid has any effect, citing recently published studies in the Journal of the American Medical Association that found ascorbic acid ineffective for treating sepsis.

The MATH+ creators say they are working on a literature review of the research behind the protocol, and they plan to write up the observational impacts of the protocol. Marik says he’s not optimistic about getting the findings published in a high-impact journal given the observational nature of the research; the relatively small number of patients treated at hospitals using the protocol (140 patients at Marik’s hospital in Virginia and 180 at Varon’s in Houston, according to Marik); and the vast number of COVID-19 papers being submitted to scientific journals right now.

“This is not a remedy with expensive designer drugs,” Marik said. “No one has any interest in treating patients with cheap, safe, readily available drugs.”

“I hope they’re right if they’re saying this combination of medicines dramatically decreases mortality,” says Taison Bell, MD, director of the medical intensive care unit and assistant professor of medicine at UVA Health in Charlottesville, Virginia.

But physicians have hurt patients in the past with medications they hoped would work, he says. “We have to make sure we’re balancing the risk and the harm with that benefit, and the only way to protect patients from those biases is by doing a randomized controlled trial.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

As COVID-19 cases mounted in Texas in late June, a local Houston news station shadowed Joseph Varon, MD, making rounds in the intensive care unit at United Memorial Medical Center in Houston. An unseen newscaster tells viewers that Varon credits his success against COVID-19 so far to an experimental and “controversial” drug protocol consisting of vitamins, steroids, and blood thinners.

“This is war. There’s no time to double-blind anything,” Varon tells the camera. “This is working. And if it’s working, I’m going to keep on doing it.”

Varon is one of 10 physicians behind the protocol known as MATH+, which in media interviews and congressional testimony they say has worked to treat COVID-19 patients and save lives in their intensive care units across the country. But response to the protocol among other critical care physicians is mixed, with several physicians, in interviews with Medscape Medical News, urging caution because the benefits and relative risks of the combined medications have not been tested in randomized control trials.

From the earliest days of the pandemic, there’s been tension between the need for rigorous scientific study to understand a novel disease, which takes time, and the need to treat seriously ill patients immediately. Some treatments, like hydroxychloroquine, were promoted without randomized clinical trial data and then later were shown to be ineffective or even potentially harmful when tested.

“This pandemic has shown us there’s lots of ideas out there and they need to be tested and a theoretical basis is insufficient,” says Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious disease at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. The ups and downs with hydroxychloroquine offer a sobering example, he says. “I would argue we have an ethical obligation to do randomized controlled trials to see if our treatments work.”
 

Creating MATH+

MATH+ stands for methylprednisolone, ascorbic acid, thiamine, and heparin. The “+” holds a place for additional therapies like vitamin D, zinc, and melatonin. The protocol originated as a variation of the “HAT therapy,” a combination of hydrocortisone, ascorbic acid, and thiamine, which critical care specialist Paul Marik, MD, created for treating critically ill patients with sepsis.

Over a few weeks, the protocol evolved as Marik, chief of the division of pulmonary and critical care medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, emailed with a small group of colleagues about treatments and their observations of SARS-CoV-2 in action, swapping in methylprednisolone and adding the anticoagulant heparin.

When Marik and colleagues created the protocol in early March, many healthcare organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) were advising against steroids for COVID-19 patients. The MATH+ physicians decided they needed to spread a different message, and began publicizing the protocol with a website and a small communications team.

Marik says they tried to get their protocol in front of healthcare organizations – including the WHO, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the National Institutes of Health – but received no response. Marik went on Newt Gingrich’s podcast to discuss the protocol in the hopes it would make its way to the White House.

Senator Ron Johnson of Wisconsin saw the protocol and invited Pierre Kory, MD, MPA, who practices in Johnson’s home state, to testify remotely in front of the Senate Homeland Security Committee. Kory is a pulmonary critical care specialist about to start a new job at Aurora St. Luke’s Medical Center in Milwaukee.

In his testimony, Kory shared his positive experience using the protocol to treat patients and expressed his dismay that national healthcare organizations came out against the use of corticosteroids for COVID-19 from the early days of the pandemic based on what he called a “tragic error in analysis of medical data.” Although an analysis by national organizations suggested corticosteroids might be dangerous in COVID-19 patients, one of his colleagues came to the opposite conclusion, he said. But these organizations advised supportive care only, and against steroids. “We think that is a fatal and tragic flaw,” Kory said.

“The problem with the protocol early on was that it was heresy,” says Kory, referring to the protocol’s inclusion of corticosteroids before official treatment guidelines. During the height of the pandemic in New York this spring, Kory spent 5 weeks working in the ICU at Mount Sinai Beth Israel in Manhattan. Seeing patients flounder on supportive care, Kory says he used MATH+ successfully during his time in New York, using escalating and pulse doses of corticosteroids to stabilize rapidly deteriorating patients.

The website’s home page initially included an invitation for visitors to donate money to support “getting word of this effective treatment protocol out to physicians and hospitals around the world.” After Medscape Medical News brought up the donation prompt in questions, the physicians decided to remove all calls for donations from the website and social media, communications representative Betsy Ashton said. “Critics are misinterpreting this as some kind of fund-raising operation, when that could hardly be the case,” Ashton said in an email. “They are horrified that anyone would impugn their motives.”

Donations paid for the website designer, webmaster, and her work, Ashton said, and the physicians now have donors who will support publicizing the protocol without online calls for donations. “We have no commercial or vested interest,” Marik said. “I’m not going to make a single cent out of this and it’s obviously very time-consuming.”
 

The basis for the protocol

The protocol is based on common sense, an understanding of scientific literature, and an understanding of COVID-19, Marik says. The website includes links to past research trials and observational studies examining ascorbic acid and thiamine in critically ill patients and early looks at anticoagulants in COVID-19 patients.

They chose methylprednisolone as their corticosteroid based on the expertise of group member G. Umberto Meduri, MD, professor of medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis, Tennessee, who had found the steroid effective in treating acute respiratory distress syndrome. On the MATH+ website, the physicians link to multiple observational studies posted on preprint servers in April and May that suggest methylprednisolone helped COVID-19 patients.

“What’s happened with time is all the elements have been validated by scientific studies, which makes this so cool,” says Marik. The RECOVERY Trial results in particular validated the push to use corticosteroids in COVID-19 patients, he says. But that study used a different steroid, dexamethasone, in much smaller doses than what MATH+ recommends. Revised guidance from the Infectious Diseases Society of America recommends dexamethasone for severely ill patients, but says methylprednisolone and prednisone can be used as substitutes at equivalent doses.

Marik and Kory say that mortality rates for COVID-19 patients at their respective hospitals decreased after they began using the protocol. The physicians have been collecting observational data on their patients, but have not yet published any, and do not plan to conduct a randomized trial.

Several physicians who were not involved in the creation of the protocol say the evidence the physicians cite is not robust enough to warrant the promotion of MATH+ and call for randomized controlled trials. Coming up with a protocol is fine, says Kaul, but “you have to do the hard work of doing a randomized control trial to determine if those drugs given in those combinations work or not.”

“When I looked at it, I thought it was actually not very evidence based,” says Michelle Gong, MD, chief of the Division of Critical Care Medicine at Montefiore Health System in New York City. “It is not something I would recommend for my doctors to do outside of a clinical trial.”

The protocol authors push back against the necessity and feasibility of randomized control trials.

There is no time for a randomized control trial right now, says Jose Iglesias, DO, associate professor at Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine at Seton Hall and critical care specialist at Community Medical Center and Jersey Shore University Medical Center in New Jersey. “Time is limited. We’re busy bedside clinicians taking care of patients, and patients who are dying.”

Marik argues there is not equipoise: It wouldn’t be ethical to randomize patients in a placebo group when the physicians are confident the steroids will help. And the protocol is personalized for each patient, making the standardization required for a randomized control trial incredibly difficult, he says. He also cites “the people who are unwilling to accept our results and just think it’s too good to be true.”

Hugh Cassiere, MD, director of critical care medicine at Northwell Health’s North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset, New York, said he finds it “very disturbing that this is being propagated.” In the context of a pandemic in which physicians from other specialties are helping out colleagues in ICUs and might follow the protocol uncritically, he worries, “this could potentially lead to harm.”

“I understand the intention; everybody wants to do something, these patients are so sick and the crisis so sharp that we all want to do something to make patients better,” Gong said. “But as physicians taking care of patients we need to make sure we separate the noise from the evidence.”
 

Peer review

The physicians who reviewed MATH+ for Medscape Medical News differed on which parts of the protocol they support and which parts they would change.

Dexamethasone should be the corticosteroid of choice over methylprednisolone, says Cassiere, because it has now been proven effective in the randomized RECOVERY Trial, which also tested dosing and a timetable for treatment.

But Sam Parnia, MD, PhD, associate professor of medicine and director of critical care and resuscitation research at NYU Langone, thinks methylprednisolone may be effective, and that even higher doses over longer periods of time may stave off recurring pneumonia, based on his experience using the steroid to treat COVID-19 patients in New York.

“What I really like about this protocol is, these guys are very smart, they recommend the need to treat multiple different things at the same time,” says Parnia. COVID-19 is a complex condition, he notes: If physicians are only focused on solving one problem, like hypoxia, patients could still be dying from blood clots.

Despite general concerns about the protocol, Cassiere says he was excited about the inclusion of heparin. Given the extreme levels of clotting seen in COVID-19 patients, he would have included specific D-dimer levels to guide treatment and explored antiplatelet therapies like aspirin. Gong, however, cautioned that she had seen her patients on anticoagulants develop gastrointestinal bleeding, and reiterated the need for clinical evidence. (At least one clinical trial is currently testing the risks and benefits of heparin as an antithrombotic therapy for COVID-19 patients.)

Perhaps the most divisive part of the protocol is the inclusion of ascorbic acid. “That’s the civil war,” says Kory. “It’s the most polarizing medicine.” The authors of the MATH+ protocol were close colleagues before COVID-19 in part because of a mutual research interest in ascorbic acid, he says. Other physicians, including Cassiere, are extremely skeptical that ascorbic acid has any effect, citing recently published studies in the Journal of the American Medical Association that found ascorbic acid ineffective for treating sepsis.

The MATH+ creators say they are working on a literature review of the research behind the protocol, and they plan to write up the observational impacts of the protocol. Marik says he’s not optimistic about getting the findings published in a high-impact journal given the observational nature of the research; the relatively small number of patients treated at hospitals using the protocol (140 patients at Marik’s hospital in Virginia and 180 at Varon’s in Houston, according to Marik); and the vast number of COVID-19 papers being submitted to scientific journals right now.

“This is not a remedy with expensive designer drugs,” Marik said. “No one has any interest in treating patients with cheap, safe, readily available drugs.”

“I hope they’re right if they’re saying this combination of medicines dramatically decreases mortality,” says Taison Bell, MD, director of the medical intensive care unit and assistant professor of medicine at UVA Health in Charlottesville, Virginia.

But physicians have hurt patients in the past with medications they hoped would work, he says. “We have to make sure we’re balancing the risk and the harm with that benefit, and the only way to protect patients from those biases is by doing a randomized controlled trial.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Much-anticipated results from the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases’ clinical trial of remdesivir in COVID-19 patients published in the New England Journal of Medicine suggest remdesivir shortens the disease course for hospitalized COVID-19 patients.

The agency reported initial promising results from the study earlier this month, which prompted the Food and Drug Administration to issue an emergency use authorization (EUA) for the drug, but the full data and results have not been widely available until now.

In the study of 1,063 patients, the researchers found patients who received a 10-day course of remdesivir had a reduced recovery time of 11 days, compared with 15 days to recovery in the group that received a placebo. The findings also suggest remdesivir should be started, if possible, before patients have such severe pulmonary disease that they require mechanical ventilation, according to the study authors.

The published results are “completely consistent” with the NIAID’s earlier announcement, H. Clifford Lane, MD, deputy director for clinical research and special projects at the NIAID, said in an interview. “The benefit appeared to be the greatest for the patients who are hospitalized with severe disease who require supplemental oxygen.”

Given the limited supply of remdesivir, physicians have been eager to see the full data to ensure they use the drug most effectively, Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview. Hospitals in states across the country, including New York, Michigan, and Washington, have received limited supplies of the drug in the last couple of weeks since the FDA’s authorization.

“I am losing my patience waiting for #remdesivir data. I was willing to give them a week to verify the numbers, triple proof the tables, cautiously frame conclusions. But it’s gone on too long. We are rationing with no rationale. We are floating on whisps [sic] of data, adrift,” Kate Stephenson, MD, an infectious diseases specialist at the Center for Virology and Vaccine Research at Harvard Medical School, Boston, wrote on Twitter May 18. After reading the paper, she tweeted Friday evening that she was “relieved to see convincing benefit – I was starting to worry!”

In the midst of a public health crisis, however, it is not unusual to make an announcement about trial results before the full dataset has been analyzed, said Dr. Lane. The NIAID followed a similar playbook for the PALM trial evaluating possible Ebola treatments in the Democratic Republic of Congo, with the independent monitoring board recommending the trial be terminated early in response to positive results from two of the four candidate drugs.

“When you have a result you think is of public health importance, you don’t wait for it to be published in a peer-reviewed journal,” said Dr. Lane, a coauthor of the study. The lag time from announcement to study publication was a result of the time it took to write up the paper for publication and go through peer review, Dr. Lane added. He also noted that the FDA had access to the data when the agency wrote its guidance for physicians administering the drug to patients under the EUA.

The authors opted not to publish the initial findings on a preprint server because they felt it was important to undergo peer review, said Dr. Lane. “The last thing you want for something this critical is for incomplete data to be out there, or you don’t have everything audited to the level that you want.”

 

Trial details

In the ACTT-1 randomized, placebo-controlled, double-blinded trial, researchers enrolled 1,063 patients from Feb. 21 to April 19, 2020, at 60 trial sites and 13 subsites worldwide (45 sites in the United States). The remdesivir group had 541 patients, and the placebo group had 522. A small number of patients (49 in the remdesivir group and 53 in the placebo group) discontinued treatment before day 10 because of an adverse event or withdrawn consent. When data collection for this preliminary analysis ended in late April, 301 patients had not recovered and had not completed their final follow-up visit.

Most of the patients had one (27%) or more (52.1%) preexisting conditions, including hypertension (49.6%), obesity (37%), and type 2 diabetes mellitus (29.7%). Mean patient age was 58.9 years, and the majority of patients were men (64.3%). The median number of days from symptom onset to randomization was 9, and 53.6% of the patients were white, 20.6% were black, 12.6% were Asian, 23.4% were Hispanic or Latino, and the ethnicity of 13.6% were not reported or reported as other.

Patients received one 200-mg loading dose on the first day of the trial, and then one 100-mg maintenance dose every day for days 2 through 10, or until discharge or death. Patients in the control group of the study received a matching placebo on the same schedule and volume. The clinical status of each patient was assessed every day, from day 1 through day 29 of his or her hospital stay, according to an eight-category ordinal scale.

Time to recovery was defined as the first day during the 28-day enrollment period that a patient’s clinical status met a 1 (not hospitalization, no activity limitations), 2 (not hospitalized, activity limitation, oxygen requirement or both), or 3 (hospitalized, not requiring supplemental oxygen or medical care if hospitalization was extended for infection-control reasons) on the eight-category scale. A score of 4 indicated a patient was hospitalized and needed ongoing medical care, but did not require supplemental oxygen; a score of 8 signified death.

The analysis found remdesivir patients had a median time to recovery of 11 days, compared with the median 15 days for patients on the placebo (rate ratio for recovery, 1.32; 95% confidence interval, 1.12-1.55; P < .001). Mortality was also lower in the remdesivir group (hazard ratio for death, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.47-1.04), but the result was not statistically significant. By 14 days, the Kaplan-Meier estimate of mortality was 7.1 % in the remdesivir group and 11.9% in the placebo group.

Patients receiving oxygen, but not yet requiring high-flow oxygen, mechanical ventilation, or extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, seemed to fare best from treatment with remdesivir (these patients had a baseline ordinal score of 5). That may be a result of the larger sample size of these patients, the researchers note in the study. The study authors were unable to estimate the recovery time for the most severely ill patients (category 7), possibly because the follow-up time was too short to fully evaluate this subgroup.

“There is clear and consistent evidence of clinically significant benefit for those hospitalized on oxygen but not yet requiring mechanical ventilation,” Dr. Kaul, who was not involved in the study, said after seeing the published results. “Surprisingly, early dosing as measured from time to onset of symptoms did not seem to make a difference.”

Dr. Kaul said there is still the possibility that remdesivir could benefit patients on mechanical ventilation, but “clinicians will have to determine if the evidence suggesting no benefit in those who are intubated is strong enough to justify using this currently scarce resource in that population versus limiting use to those requiring oxygen but not on mechanical ventilation.”

Site investigators estimated that just four serious adverse events (two in each group) in enrolled patients were related to remdesivir or placebo. No deaths were attributed to the treatments, although acute respiratory failure, hypotension, acute kidney injury, and viral pneumonia were slightly more common in patients receiving the placebo than those receiving remdesivir.

The researchers plan to publish a follow-up study in the coming weeks or months, after the full cohort has completed 28 days of follow-up, Dr. Lane said. In future studies, the agency will likely focus on comparing remdesivir with combinations of remdesivir with other treatments, like the anti-inflammatory baricitinib.

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

Much-anticipated results from the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases’ clinical trial of remdesivir in COVID-19 patients published in the New England Journal of Medicine suggest remdesivir shortens the disease course for hospitalized COVID-19 patients.

The agency reported initial promising results from the study earlier this month, which prompted the Food and Drug Administration to issue an emergency use authorization (EUA) for the drug, but the full data and results have not been widely available until now.

In the study of 1,063 patients, the researchers found patients who received a 10-day course of remdesivir had a reduced recovery time of 11 days, compared with 15 days to recovery in the group that received a placebo. The findings also suggest remdesivir should be started, if possible, before patients have such severe pulmonary disease that they require mechanical ventilation, according to the study authors.

The published results are “completely consistent” with the NIAID’s earlier announcement, H. Clifford Lane, MD, deputy director for clinical research and special projects at the NIAID, said in an interview. “The benefit appeared to be the greatest for the patients who are hospitalized with severe disease who require supplemental oxygen.”

Given the limited supply of remdesivir, physicians have been eager to see the full data to ensure they use the drug most effectively, Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview. Hospitals in states across the country, including New York, Michigan, and Washington, have received limited supplies of the drug in the last couple of weeks since the FDA’s authorization.

“I am losing my patience waiting for #remdesivir data. I was willing to give them a week to verify the numbers, triple proof the tables, cautiously frame conclusions. But it’s gone on too long. We are rationing with no rationale. We are floating on whisps [sic] of data, adrift,” Kate Stephenson, MD, an infectious diseases specialist at the Center for Virology and Vaccine Research at Harvard Medical School, Boston, wrote on Twitter May 18. After reading the paper, she tweeted Friday evening that she was “relieved to see convincing benefit – I was starting to worry!”

In the midst of a public health crisis, however, it is not unusual to make an announcement about trial results before the full dataset has been analyzed, said Dr. Lane. The NIAID followed a similar playbook for the PALM trial evaluating possible Ebola treatments in the Democratic Republic of Congo, with the independent monitoring board recommending the trial be terminated early in response to positive results from two of the four candidate drugs.

“When you have a result you think is of public health importance, you don’t wait for it to be published in a peer-reviewed journal,” said Dr. Lane, a coauthor of the study. The lag time from announcement to study publication was a result of the time it took to write up the paper for publication and go through peer review, Dr. Lane added. He also noted that the FDA had access to the data when the agency wrote its guidance for physicians administering the drug to patients under the EUA.

The authors opted not to publish the initial findings on a preprint server because they felt it was important to undergo peer review, said Dr. Lane. “The last thing you want for something this critical is for incomplete data to be out there, or you don’t have everything audited to the level that you want.”

 

Trial details

In the ACTT-1 randomized, placebo-controlled, double-blinded trial, researchers enrolled 1,063 patients from Feb. 21 to April 19, 2020, at 60 trial sites and 13 subsites worldwide (45 sites in the United States). The remdesivir group had 541 patients, and the placebo group had 522. A small number of patients (49 in the remdesivir group and 53 in the placebo group) discontinued treatment before day 10 because of an adverse event or withdrawn consent. When data collection for this preliminary analysis ended in late April, 301 patients had not recovered and had not completed their final follow-up visit.

Most of the patients had one (27%) or more (52.1%) preexisting conditions, including hypertension (49.6%), obesity (37%), and type 2 diabetes mellitus (29.7%). Mean patient age was 58.9 years, and the majority of patients were men (64.3%). The median number of days from symptom onset to randomization was 9, and 53.6% of the patients were white, 20.6% were black, 12.6% were Asian, 23.4% were Hispanic or Latino, and the ethnicity of 13.6% were not reported or reported as other.

Patients received one 200-mg loading dose on the first day of the trial, and then one 100-mg maintenance dose every day for days 2 through 10, or until discharge or death. Patients in the control group of the study received a matching placebo on the same schedule and volume. The clinical status of each patient was assessed every day, from day 1 through day 29 of his or her hospital stay, according to an eight-category ordinal scale.

Time to recovery was defined as the first day during the 28-day enrollment period that a patient’s clinical status met a 1 (not hospitalization, no activity limitations), 2 (not hospitalized, activity limitation, oxygen requirement or both), or 3 (hospitalized, not requiring supplemental oxygen or medical care if hospitalization was extended for infection-control reasons) on the eight-category scale. A score of 4 indicated a patient was hospitalized and needed ongoing medical care, but did not require supplemental oxygen; a score of 8 signified death.

The analysis found remdesivir patients had a median time to recovery of 11 days, compared with the median 15 days for patients on the placebo (rate ratio for recovery, 1.32; 95% confidence interval, 1.12-1.55; P < .001). Mortality was also lower in the remdesivir group (hazard ratio for death, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.47-1.04), but the result was not statistically significant. By 14 days, the Kaplan-Meier estimate of mortality was 7.1 % in the remdesivir group and 11.9% in the placebo group.

Patients receiving oxygen, but not yet requiring high-flow oxygen, mechanical ventilation, or extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, seemed to fare best from treatment with remdesivir (these patients had a baseline ordinal score of 5). That may be a result of the larger sample size of these patients, the researchers note in the study. The study authors were unable to estimate the recovery time for the most severely ill patients (category 7), possibly because the follow-up time was too short to fully evaluate this subgroup.

“There is clear and consistent evidence of clinically significant benefit for those hospitalized on oxygen but not yet requiring mechanical ventilation,” Dr. Kaul, who was not involved in the study, said after seeing the published results. “Surprisingly, early dosing as measured from time to onset of symptoms did not seem to make a difference.”

Dr. Kaul said there is still the possibility that remdesivir could benefit patients on mechanical ventilation, but “clinicians will have to determine if the evidence suggesting no benefit in those who are intubated is strong enough to justify using this currently scarce resource in that population versus limiting use to those requiring oxygen but not on mechanical ventilation.”

Site investigators estimated that just four serious adverse events (two in each group) in enrolled patients were related to remdesivir or placebo. No deaths were attributed to the treatments, although acute respiratory failure, hypotension, acute kidney injury, and viral pneumonia were slightly more common in patients receiving the placebo than those receiving remdesivir.

The researchers plan to publish a follow-up study in the coming weeks or months, after the full cohort has completed 28 days of follow-up, Dr. Lane said. In future studies, the agency will likely focus on comparing remdesivir with combinations of remdesivir with other treatments, like the anti-inflammatory baricitinib.

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

Much-anticipated results from the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases’ clinical trial of remdesivir in COVID-19 patients published in the New England Journal of Medicine suggest remdesivir shortens the disease course for hospitalized COVID-19 patients.

The agency reported initial promising results from the study earlier this month, which prompted the Food and Drug Administration to issue an emergency use authorization (EUA) for the drug, but the full data and results have not been widely available until now.

In the study of 1,063 patients, the researchers found patients who received a 10-day course of remdesivir had a reduced recovery time of 11 days, compared with 15 days to recovery in the group that received a placebo. The findings also suggest remdesivir should be started, if possible, before patients have such severe pulmonary disease that they require mechanical ventilation, according to the study authors.

The published results are “completely consistent” with the NIAID’s earlier announcement, H. Clifford Lane, MD, deputy director for clinical research and special projects at the NIAID, said in an interview. “The benefit appeared to be the greatest for the patients who are hospitalized with severe disease who require supplemental oxygen.”

Given the limited supply of remdesivir, physicians have been eager to see the full data to ensure they use the drug most effectively, Daniel Kaul, MD, a professor of infectious diseases at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview. Hospitals in states across the country, including New York, Michigan, and Washington, have received limited supplies of the drug in the last couple of weeks since the FDA’s authorization.

“I am losing my patience waiting for #remdesivir data. I was willing to give them a week to verify the numbers, triple proof the tables, cautiously frame conclusions. But it’s gone on too long. We are rationing with no rationale. We are floating on whisps [sic] of data, adrift,” Kate Stephenson, MD, an infectious diseases specialist at the Center for Virology and Vaccine Research at Harvard Medical School, Boston, wrote on Twitter May 18. After reading the paper, she tweeted Friday evening that she was “relieved to see convincing benefit – I was starting to worry!”

In the midst of a public health crisis, however, it is not unusual to make an announcement about trial results before the full dataset has been analyzed, said Dr. Lane. The NIAID followed a similar playbook for the PALM trial evaluating possible Ebola treatments in the Democratic Republic of Congo, with the independent monitoring board recommending the trial be terminated early in response to positive results from two of the four candidate drugs.

“When you have a result you think is of public health importance, you don’t wait for it to be published in a peer-reviewed journal,” said Dr. Lane, a coauthor of the study. The lag time from announcement to study publication was a result of the time it took to write up the paper for publication and go through peer review, Dr. Lane added. He also noted that the FDA had access to the data when the agency wrote its guidance for physicians administering the drug to patients under the EUA.

The authors opted not to publish the initial findings on a preprint server because they felt it was important to undergo peer review, said Dr. Lane. “The last thing you want for something this critical is for incomplete data to be out there, or you don’t have everything audited to the level that you want.”

 

Trial details

In the ACTT-1 randomized, placebo-controlled, double-blinded trial, researchers enrolled 1,063 patients from Feb. 21 to April 19, 2020, at 60 trial sites and 13 subsites worldwide (45 sites in the United States). The remdesivir group had 541 patients, and the placebo group had 522. A small number of patients (49 in the remdesivir group and 53 in the placebo group) discontinued treatment before day 10 because of an adverse event or withdrawn consent. When data collection for this preliminary analysis ended in late April, 301 patients had not recovered and had not completed their final follow-up visit.

Most of the patients had one (27%) or more (52.1%) preexisting conditions, including hypertension (49.6%), obesity (37%), and type 2 diabetes mellitus (29.7%). Mean patient age was 58.9 years, and the majority of patients were men (64.3%). The median number of days from symptom onset to randomization was 9, and 53.6% of the patients were white, 20.6% were black, 12.6% were Asian, 23.4% were Hispanic or Latino, and the ethnicity of 13.6% were not reported or reported as other.

Patients received one 200-mg loading dose on the first day of the trial, and then one 100-mg maintenance dose every day for days 2 through 10, or until discharge or death. Patients in the control group of the study received a matching placebo on the same schedule and volume. The clinical status of each patient was assessed every day, from day 1 through day 29 of his or her hospital stay, according to an eight-category ordinal scale.

Time to recovery was defined as the first day during the 28-day enrollment period that a patient’s clinical status met a 1 (not hospitalization, no activity limitations), 2 (not hospitalized, activity limitation, oxygen requirement or both), or 3 (hospitalized, not requiring supplemental oxygen or medical care if hospitalization was extended for infection-control reasons) on the eight-category scale. A score of 4 indicated a patient was hospitalized and needed ongoing medical care, but did not require supplemental oxygen; a score of 8 signified death.

The analysis found remdesivir patients had a median time to recovery of 11 days, compared with the median 15 days for patients on the placebo (rate ratio for recovery, 1.32; 95% confidence interval, 1.12-1.55; P < .001). Mortality was also lower in the remdesivir group (hazard ratio for death, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.47-1.04), but the result was not statistically significant. By 14 days, the Kaplan-Meier estimate of mortality was 7.1 % in the remdesivir group and 11.9% in the placebo group.

Patients receiving oxygen, but not yet requiring high-flow oxygen, mechanical ventilation, or extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, seemed to fare best from treatment with remdesivir (these patients had a baseline ordinal score of 5). That may be a result of the larger sample size of these patients, the researchers note in the study. The study authors were unable to estimate the recovery time for the most severely ill patients (category 7), possibly because the follow-up time was too short to fully evaluate this subgroup.

“There is clear and consistent evidence of clinically significant benefit for those hospitalized on oxygen but not yet requiring mechanical ventilation,” Dr. Kaul, who was not involved in the study, said after seeing the published results. “Surprisingly, early dosing as measured from time to onset of symptoms did not seem to make a difference.”

Dr. Kaul said there is still the possibility that remdesivir could benefit patients on mechanical ventilation, but “clinicians will have to determine if the evidence suggesting no benefit in those who are intubated is strong enough to justify using this currently scarce resource in that population versus limiting use to those requiring oxygen but not on mechanical ventilation.”

Site investigators estimated that just four serious adverse events (two in each group) in enrolled patients were related to remdesivir or placebo. No deaths were attributed to the treatments, although acute respiratory failure, hypotension, acute kidney injury, and viral pneumonia were slightly more common in patients receiving the placebo than those receiving remdesivir.

The researchers plan to publish a follow-up study in the coming weeks or months, after the full cohort has completed 28 days of follow-up, Dr. Lane said. In future studies, the agency will likely focus on comparing remdesivir with combinations of remdesivir with other treatments, like the anti-inflammatory baricitinib.

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