Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD

Ah, blood. That sweet nectar of life that quiets angina, abolishes dyspnea, prevents orthostatic syncope, and quells sinus tachycardia. As a cardiologist, I am an unabashed hemophile. 

But we liberal transfusionists are challenged on every request for consideration of transfusion. Whereas the polite may resort to whispered skepticism, vehement critics respond with scorn as if we’d asked them to burn aromatic herbs or fetch a bucket of leeches. And to what do we owe this pathological angst? The broad and persistent misinterpretation of the pesky TRICC trial (N Engl J Med. 1999;340:409-417). You know; the one that should have been published with a boxed warning stating: “Misinterpretation of this trial could result in significant harm.” 
 

Point 1: Our Actively Bleeding Patient is Not a TRICC Patient. 

Published in 1999, the TRICC trial enrolled critical anemic patients older than 16 years who were stable after fluid resuscitation and were not actively bleeding. They had a hemoglobin level < 9 g/dL and were expected to stay in the intensive care unit (ICU) for more than 24 hours. They were randomly assigned to either a conservative trigger for transfusion of < 7 g/dL or a liberal threshold of < 10 g/dL. Mortality at 30 days was lower with the conservative approach — 18.7% vs 23.3% — but the difference was not statistically significant (P = .11). The findings were similar for the secondary endpoints of inpatient mortality (22.2% vs 28.1%; P = .05) and ICU mortality (13.9% vs 16.2%; P = .29). 

One must admit that these P values are not impressive, and the authors’ conclusion should have warranted caution: “A restrictive strategy ... is at least as effective as and possibly superior to a liberal transfusion strategy in critically ill patients, with the possible exception of patients with acute myocardial infarction and unstable angina.” 
 

Point 2: Our Critically Ill Cardiac Patient is Unlikely to be a “TRICC” Patient.

Another criticism of TRICC is that only 13% of those assessed and 26% of those eligible were enrolled, mostly owing to physician refusal. Only 26% of enrolled patients had cardiac disease. This makes the TRICC population highly selected and not representative of typical ICU patients. 

To prove my point that the edict against higher transfusion thresholds can be dangerous, I’ll describe my most recent interface with TRICC trial misinterpretation 
 

A Case in Point

The patient, Mrs. Kemp,* is 79 years old and has been on aspirin for years following coronary stent placement. One evening, she began spurting bright red blood from her rectum, interrupted only briefly by large clots the consistency of jellied cranberries. When she arrived at the hospital, she was hemodynamically stable, with a hemoglobin level of 10 g/dL, down from her usual 12 g/dL. That level bolstered the confidence of her provider, who insisted that she be managed conservatively. 

Mrs. Kemp was transferred to the ward, where she continued to bleed briskly. Over the next 2 hours, her hemoglobin level dropped to 9 g/dL, then 8 g/dL. Her daughter, a healthcare worker, requested a transfusion. The answer was, wait for it — the well-scripted, somewhat patronizing oft-quoted line, “The medical literature states that we need to wait for a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL before we transfuse.” 

Later that evening, Mrs. Kemp’s systolic blood pressure dropped to the upper 80s, despite her usual hypertension. The provider was again comforted by the fact that she was not tachycardic (she had a pacemaker and was on bisoprolol). The next morning, Mrs. Kemp felt the need to defecate and was placed on the bedside commode and left to her privacy. Predictably, she became dizzy and experienced frank syncope. Thankfully, she avoided a hip fracture or worse. A stat hemoglobin returned at 6 g/dL. 

Her daughter said she literally heard the hallelujah chorus because her mother’s hemoglobin was finally below that much revered and often misleading threshold of 7 g/dL. Finally, there was an order for platelets and packed red cells. Five units later, Mr. Kemp achieved a hemoglobin of 8 g/dL and survived. Two more units and she was soaring at 9 g/dL! 
 

Lessons for Transfusion Conservatives

There are many lessons here. 

The TRICC study found that hemodynamically stable, asymptomatic patients who are not actively bleeding may well tolerate a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL. But a patient with bright red blood actively pouring from an orifice and a rapidly declining hemoglobin level isn’t one of those people. Additionally, a patient who faints from hypovolemia is not one of those people. 

Patients with a history of bleeding presenting with new resting sinus tachycardia (in those who have chronotropic competence) should be presumed to be actively bleeding, and the findings of TRICC do not apply to them. Patients who have bled buckets on anticoagulant or antiplatelet therapies and have dropped their hemoglobin will probably continue to ooze and should be subject to a low threshold for transfusion. 

Additionally, anemic people who are hemodynamically stable but can’t walk without new significant shortness of air or new rest angina need blood, and sometimes at hemoglobin levels higher than generally accepted by conservative strategists. Finally, failing to treat or at least monitor patients who are spontaneously bleeding as aggressively as some trauma patients is a failure to provide proper medical care. 

The vast majority of my healthcare clinician colleagues are competent, compassionate individuals who can reasonably discuss the nuances of any medical scenario. One important distinction of a good medical team is the willingness to change course based on a change in patient status or the presentation of what may be new information for the provider. 

But those proud transfusion conservatives who will not budge until their threshold is met need to make certain their patient is truly subject to their supposed edicts. Our blood banks should not be more difficult to access than Fort Knox, and transfusion should be used appropriately and liberally in the hemodynamically unstable, the symptomatic, and active brisk bleeders. 

I beg staunch transfusion conservatives to consider how they might feel if someone stuck a magic spigot in their brachial artery and acutely drained their hemoglobin to that magic threshold of 7 g/dL. When syncope, shortness of air, fatigue, and angina find them, they may generate empathy for those who need transfusion. Might that do the TRICC? 

*Some details have been changed to conceal the identity of the patient, but the essence of the case has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology and now does locums work in Montana, is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Ah, blood. That sweet nectar of life that quiets angina, abolishes dyspnea, prevents orthostatic syncope, and quells sinus tachycardia. As a cardiologist, I am an unabashed hemophile. 

But we liberal transfusionists are challenged on every request for consideration of transfusion. Whereas the polite may resort to whispered skepticism, vehement critics respond with scorn as if we’d asked them to burn aromatic herbs or fetch a bucket of leeches. And to what do we owe this pathological angst? The broad and persistent misinterpretation of the pesky TRICC trial (N Engl J Med. 1999;340:409-417). You know; the one that should have been published with a boxed warning stating: “Misinterpretation of this trial could result in significant harm.” 
 

Point 1: Our Actively Bleeding Patient is Not a TRICC Patient. 

Published in 1999, the TRICC trial enrolled critical anemic patients older than 16 years who were stable after fluid resuscitation and were not actively bleeding. They had a hemoglobin level < 9 g/dL and were expected to stay in the intensive care unit (ICU) for more than 24 hours. They were randomly assigned to either a conservative trigger for transfusion of < 7 g/dL or a liberal threshold of < 10 g/dL. Mortality at 30 days was lower with the conservative approach — 18.7% vs 23.3% — but the difference was not statistically significant (P = .11). The findings were similar for the secondary endpoints of inpatient mortality (22.2% vs 28.1%; P = .05) and ICU mortality (13.9% vs 16.2%; P = .29). 

One must admit that these P values are not impressive, and the authors’ conclusion should have warranted caution: “A restrictive strategy ... is at least as effective as and possibly superior to a liberal transfusion strategy in critically ill patients, with the possible exception of patients with acute myocardial infarction and unstable angina.” 
 

Point 2: Our Critically Ill Cardiac Patient is Unlikely to be a “TRICC” Patient.

Another criticism of TRICC is that only 13% of those assessed and 26% of those eligible were enrolled, mostly owing to physician refusal. Only 26% of enrolled patients had cardiac disease. This makes the TRICC population highly selected and not representative of typical ICU patients. 

To prove my point that the edict against higher transfusion thresholds can be dangerous, I’ll describe my most recent interface with TRICC trial misinterpretation 
 

A Case in Point

The patient, Mrs. Kemp,* is 79 years old and has been on aspirin for years following coronary stent placement. One evening, she began spurting bright red blood from her rectum, interrupted only briefly by large clots the consistency of jellied cranberries. When she arrived at the hospital, she was hemodynamically stable, with a hemoglobin level of 10 g/dL, down from her usual 12 g/dL. That level bolstered the confidence of her provider, who insisted that she be managed conservatively. 

Mrs. Kemp was transferred to the ward, where she continued to bleed briskly. Over the next 2 hours, her hemoglobin level dropped to 9 g/dL, then 8 g/dL. Her daughter, a healthcare worker, requested a transfusion. The answer was, wait for it — the well-scripted, somewhat patronizing oft-quoted line, “The medical literature states that we need to wait for a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL before we transfuse.” 

Later that evening, Mrs. Kemp’s systolic blood pressure dropped to the upper 80s, despite her usual hypertension. The provider was again comforted by the fact that she was not tachycardic (she had a pacemaker and was on bisoprolol). The next morning, Mrs. Kemp felt the need to defecate and was placed on the bedside commode and left to her privacy. Predictably, she became dizzy and experienced frank syncope. Thankfully, she avoided a hip fracture or worse. A stat hemoglobin returned at 6 g/dL. 

Her daughter said she literally heard the hallelujah chorus because her mother’s hemoglobin was finally below that much revered and often misleading threshold of 7 g/dL. Finally, there was an order for platelets and packed red cells. Five units later, Mr. Kemp achieved a hemoglobin of 8 g/dL and survived. Two more units and she was soaring at 9 g/dL! 
 

Lessons for Transfusion Conservatives

There are many lessons here. 

The TRICC study found that hemodynamically stable, asymptomatic patients who are not actively bleeding may well tolerate a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL. But a patient with bright red blood actively pouring from an orifice and a rapidly declining hemoglobin level isn’t one of those people. Additionally, a patient who faints from hypovolemia is not one of those people. 

Patients with a history of bleeding presenting with new resting sinus tachycardia (in those who have chronotropic competence) should be presumed to be actively bleeding, and the findings of TRICC do not apply to them. Patients who have bled buckets on anticoagulant or antiplatelet therapies and have dropped their hemoglobin will probably continue to ooze and should be subject to a low threshold for transfusion. 

Additionally, anemic people who are hemodynamically stable but can’t walk without new significant shortness of air or new rest angina need blood, and sometimes at hemoglobin levels higher than generally accepted by conservative strategists. Finally, failing to treat or at least monitor patients who are spontaneously bleeding as aggressively as some trauma patients is a failure to provide proper medical care. 

The vast majority of my healthcare clinician colleagues are competent, compassionate individuals who can reasonably discuss the nuances of any medical scenario. One important distinction of a good medical team is the willingness to change course based on a change in patient status or the presentation of what may be new information for the provider. 

But those proud transfusion conservatives who will not budge until their threshold is met need to make certain their patient is truly subject to their supposed edicts. Our blood banks should not be more difficult to access than Fort Knox, and transfusion should be used appropriately and liberally in the hemodynamically unstable, the symptomatic, and active brisk bleeders. 

I beg staunch transfusion conservatives to consider how they might feel if someone stuck a magic spigot in their brachial artery and acutely drained their hemoglobin to that magic threshold of 7 g/dL. When syncope, shortness of air, fatigue, and angina find them, they may generate empathy for those who need transfusion. Might that do the TRICC? 

*Some details have been changed to conceal the identity of the patient, but the essence of the case has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology and now does locums work in Montana, is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Ah, blood. That sweet nectar of life that quiets angina, abolishes dyspnea, prevents orthostatic syncope, and quells sinus tachycardia. As a cardiologist, I am an unabashed hemophile. 

But we liberal transfusionists are challenged on every request for consideration of transfusion. Whereas the polite may resort to whispered skepticism, vehement critics respond with scorn as if we’d asked them to burn aromatic herbs or fetch a bucket of leeches. And to what do we owe this pathological angst? The broad and persistent misinterpretation of the pesky TRICC trial (N Engl J Med. 1999;340:409-417). You know; the one that should have been published with a boxed warning stating: “Misinterpretation of this trial could result in significant harm.” 
 

Point 1: Our Actively Bleeding Patient is Not a TRICC Patient. 

Published in 1999, the TRICC trial enrolled critical anemic patients older than 16 years who were stable after fluid resuscitation and were not actively bleeding. They had a hemoglobin level < 9 g/dL and were expected to stay in the intensive care unit (ICU) for more than 24 hours. They were randomly assigned to either a conservative trigger for transfusion of < 7 g/dL or a liberal threshold of < 10 g/dL. Mortality at 30 days was lower with the conservative approach — 18.7% vs 23.3% — but the difference was not statistically significant (P = .11). The findings were similar for the secondary endpoints of inpatient mortality (22.2% vs 28.1%; P = .05) and ICU mortality (13.9% vs 16.2%; P = .29). 

One must admit that these P values are not impressive, and the authors’ conclusion should have warranted caution: “A restrictive strategy ... is at least as effective as and possibly superior to a liberal transfusion strategy in critically ill patients, with the possible exception of patients with acute myocardial infarction and unstable angina.” 
 

Point 2: Our Critically Ill Cardiac Patient is Unlikely to be a “TRICC” Patient.

Another criticism of TRICC is that only 13% of those assessed and 26% of those eligible were enrolled, mostly owing to physician refusal. Only 26% of enrolled patients had cardiac disease. This makes the TRICC population highly selected and not representative of typical ICU patients. 

To prove my point that the edict against higher transfusion thresholds can be dangerous, I’ll describe my most recent interface with TRICC trial misinterpretation 
 

A Case in Point

The patient, Mrs. Kemp,* is 79 years old and has been on aspirin for years following coronary stent placement. One evening, she began spurting bright red blood from her rectum, interrupted only briefly by large clots the consistency of jellied cranberries. When she arrived at the hospital, she was hemodynamically stable, with a hemoglobin level of 10 g/dL, down from her usual 12 g/dL. That level bolstered the confidence of her provider, who insisted that she be managed conservatively. 

Mrs. Kemp was transferred to the ward, where she continued to bleed briskly. Over the next 2 hours, her hemoglobin level dropped to 9 g/dL, then 8 g/dL. Her daughter, a healthcare worker, requested a transfusion. The answer was, wait for it — the well-scripted, somewhat patronizing oft-quoted line, “The medical literature states that we need to wait for a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL before we transfuse.” 

Later that evening, Mrs. Kemp’s systolic blood pressure dropped to the upper 80s, despite her usual hypertension. The provider was again comforted by the fact that she was not tachycardic (she had a pacemaker and was on bisoprolol). The next morning, Mrs. Kemp felt the need to defecate and was placed on the bedside commode and left to her privacy. Predictably, she became dizzy and experienced frank syncope. Thankfully, she avoided a hip fracture or worse. A stat hemoglobin returned at 6 g/dL. 

Her daughter said she literally heard the hallelujah chorus because her mother’s hemoglobin was finally below that much revered and often misleading threshold of 7 g/dL. Finally, there was an order for platelets and packed red cells. Five units later, Mr. Kemp achieved a hemoglobin of 8 g/dL and survived. Two more units and she was soaring at 9 g/dL! 
 

Lessons for Transfusion Conservatives

There are many lessons here. 

The TRICC study found that hemodynamically stable, asymptomatic patients who are not actively bleeding may well tolerate a hemoglobin level of 7 g/dL. But a patient with bright red blood actively pouring from an orifice and a rapidly declining hemoglobin level isn’t one of those people. Additionally, a patient who faints from hypovolemia is not one of those people. 

Patients with a history of bleeding presenting with new resting sinus tachycardia (in those who have chronotropic competence) should be presumed to be actively bleeding, and the findings of TRICC do not apply to them. Patients who have bled buckets on anticoagulant or antiplatelet therapies and have dropped their hemoglobin will probably continue to ooze and should be subject to a low threshold for transfusion. 

Additionally, anemic people who are hemodynamically stable but can’t walk without new significant shortness of air or new rest angina need blood, and sometimes at hemoglobin levels higher than generally accepted by conservative strategists. Finally, failing to treat or at least monitor patients who are spontaneously bleeding as aggressively as some trauma patients is a failure to provide proper medical care. 

The vast majority of my healthcare clinician colleagues are competent, compassionate individuals who can reasonably discuss the nuances of any medical scenario. One important distinction of a good medical team is the willingness to change course based on a change in patient status or the presentation of what may be new information for the provider. 

But those proud transfusion conservatives who will not budge until their threshold is met need to make certain their patient is truly subject to their supposed edicts. Our blood banks should not be more difficult to access than Fort Knox, and transfusion should be used appropriately and liberally in the hemodynamically unstable, the symptomatic, and active brisk bleeders. 

I beg staunch transfusion conservatives to consider how they might feel if someone stuck a magic spigot in their brachial artery and acutely drained their hemoglobin to that magic threshold of 7 g/dL. When syncope, shortness of air, fatigue, and angina find them, they may generate empathy for those who need transfusion. Might that do the TRICC? 

*Some details have been changed to conceal the identity of the patient, but the essence of the case has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology and now does locums work in Montana, is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s time to renew two of my three narcotic prescribing licenses. For the first time in my career, I’ve waffled on whether the financial outlay to the US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) is worth it. 

At $888 each, I’ve considered letting two licenses lapse because I only work part-time in Montana. But several friends advised me to keep a “spare” in case I transfer to a new location. 

I thought about just paying the fees until I could do a little more research, but there is no mechanism for a refund unless I die within the first year of the 3-year cycle, provide incorrect credit card digits, or accidentally duplicate payments.

The renewal fee is just part of the issue.
 

Mandatory 8-Hour Training

I also received an alert about the requirement for more “narcotics prescribing education” thanks to the Medication Access and Training Expansion Act (MATE). 

The requirement seems counterintuitive because opioid prescribing has decreased for the 10th consecutive year, according to the AMA Overdose Epidemic Report. The continuing rise in overdose deaths is largely due to illegitimate manufacturing of synthetic opioids. 

I’ve written zero outpatient narcotics prescriptions in the past 6 years, and I’ve written very few in my 33 years of practice. My use is limited to intravenous morphine for flash pulmonary edema or refractory angina, but unless you graduated from a training program within 5 years of the June 2023 mandate or are boarded in addiction medicine, there is no way to escape the 8-hour education requirement.

The problem is that these courses are never just 8 hours in duration. After signing up for one such CME course that cost $150, I was still dying of boredom and at risk for DVT 4 days later. That’s how long it took to sit through.

Instead of the 30 seconds it should have taken to review the simple instructions to deliver Narcan, there were scores of screens followed by juvenile quizlets and cartoons. All but about 2 hours out of the 4 days is now relegated to that category of “hours of my life that I can never get back.” Additionally, none of that mandatory “education” will change my prescribing habits one whit. 

And beware the penalty. 

Changes Needed

The only good thing that came of those 4 long days of opioid education was a motivation to drive change in our current licensing and educational experience. Why not use this opportunity to reform the DEA-physician/prescriber relationship? 

The educational requirements should be curtailed for those of us who do not provide outpatient narcotic prescriptions even if we use inpatient opioids. Meds with low abuse potential should be rescheduled to minimize who gets caught in the broad net of the education requirement. 

We should reduce overregulation of the legitimate prescribers by lowering, instead of increasing, licensing fees. We should change to a single license number that covers every state. In this digital age, there is no legitimate excuse to prevent this from happening. 

After all, the settlements from opioid manufacturers and distributors will in time total $50 billion. It seems that at least some of the responsibilities of the DEA could shift to states, cities, and towns. 

My friend Siamak Karimian, MD, who provides locum services in multiple states, pays for seven active DEA licenses every 3 years. He pointed out the hypocrisy in the current regulatory system: “It’s funny that you can have only one DEA or state license and work for the government in all other states or territories with no limits, including the VA, Indian healthcare systems, or prison systems.”

All other prescribers require a separate DEA number for every state. Ultimately, you’d think tracking prescriptions for a single DEA number should be far simpler than tracking someone with seven. 

Competent physicians not guilty of criminal overprescribing seem to be the last to be considered in nearly every healthcare endeavor these days. It would be refreshing if they would reduce our fees and prevent this waste of our time. 

And while we are at it, perhaps a more fitting punishment is due for Richard Sackler and all the Purdue Pharma–affiliated family members. The Sacklers will pay out $6 billion in exchange for immunity against civil litigation. That doesn’t seem like much when they are worth $11 billion. 

Perhaps they should be made to take an 8-hour course on opioid prescribing, annually and in perpetuity. Let’s see them complete a few quizlets and sit through screens of instruction on how to administer Naloxone. Of course, that would be a mild punishment for those who manufactured a drug that killed hundreds of thousands. But it would be a start. 
 

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tennessee, has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s time to renew two of my three narcotic prescribing licenses. For the first time in my career, I’ve waffled on whether the financial outlay to the US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) is worth it. 

At $888 each, I’ve considered letting two licenses lapse because I only work part-time in Montana. But several friends advised me to keep a “spare” in case I transfer to a new location. 

I thought about just paying the fees until I could do a little more research, but there is no mechanism for a refund unless I die within the first year of the 3-year cycle, provide incorrect credit card digits, or accidentally duplicate payments.

The renewal fee is just part of the issue.
 

Mandatory 8-Hour Training

I also received an alert about the requirement for more “narcotics prescribing education” thanks to the Medication Access and Training Expansion Act (MATE). 

The requirement seems counterintuitive because opioid prescribing has decreased for the 10th consecutive year, according to the AMA Overdose Epidemic Report. The continuing rise in overdose deaths is largely due to illegitimate manufacturing of synthetic opioids. 

I’ve written zero outpatient narcotics prescriptions in the past 6 years, and I’ve written very few in my 33 years of practice. My use is limited to intravenous morphine for flash pulmonary edema or refractory angina, but unless you graduated from a training program within 5 years of the June 2023 mandate or are boarded in addiction medicine, there is no way to escape the 8-hour education requirement.

The problem is that these courses are never just 8 hours in duration. After signing up for one such CME course that cost $150, I was still dying of boredom and at risk for DVT 4 days later. That’s how long it took to sit through.

Instead of the 30 seconds it should have taken to review the simple instructions to deliver Narcan, there were scores of screens followed by juvenile quizlets and cartoons. All but about 2 hours out of the 4 days is now relegated to that category of “hours of my life that I can never get back.” Additionally, none of that mandatory “education” will change my prescribing habits one whit. 

And beware the penalty. 

Changes Needed

The only good thing that came of those 4 long days of opioid education was a motivation to drive change in our current licensing and educational experience. Why not use this opportunity to reform the DEA-physician/prescriber relationship? 

The educational requirements should be curtailed for those of us who do not provide outpatient narcotic prescriptions even if we use inpatient opioids. Meds with low abuse potential should be rescheduled to minimize who gets caught in the broad net of the education requirement. 

We should reduce overregulation of the legitimate prescribers by lowering, instead of increasing, licensing fees. We should change to a single license number that covers every state. In this digital age, there is no legitimate excuse to prevent this from happening. 

After all, the settlements from opioid manufacturers and distributors will in time total $50 billion. It seems that at least some of the responsibilities of the DEA could shift to states, cities, and towns. 

My friend Siamak Karimian, MD, who provides locum services in multiple states, pays for seven active DEA licenses every 3 years. He pointed out the hypocrisy in the current regulatory system: “It’s funny that you can have only one DEA or state license and work for the government in all other states or territories with no limits, including the VA, Indian healthcare systems, or prison systems.”

All other prescribers require a separate DEA number for every state. Ultimately, you’d think tracking prescriptions for a single DEA number should be far simpler than tracking someone with seven. 

Competent physicians not guilty of criminal overprescribing seem to be the last to be considered in nearly every healthcare endeavor these days. It would be refreshing if they would reduce our fees and prevent this waste of our time. 

And while we are at it, perhaps a more fitting punishment is due for Richard Sackler and all the Purdue Pharma–affiliated family members. The Sacklers will pay out $6 billion in exchange for immunity against civil litigation. That doesn’t seem like much when they are worth $11 billion. 

Perhaps they should be made to take an 8-hour course on opioid prescribing, annually and in perpetuity. Let’s see them complete a few quizlets and sit through screens of instruction on how to administer Naloxone. Of course, that would be a mild punishment for those who manufactured a drug that killed hundreds of thousands. But it would be a start. 
 

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tennessee, has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s time to renew two of my three narcotic prescribing licenses. For the first time in my career, I’ve waffled on whether the financial outlay to the US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) is worth it. 

At $888 each, I’ve considered letting two licenses lapse because I only work part-time in Montana. But several friends advised me to keep a “spare” in case I transfer to a new location. 

I thought about just paying the fees until I could do a little more research, but there is no mechanism for a refund unless I die within the first year of the 3-year cycle, provide incorrect credit card digits, or accidentally duplicate payments.

The renewal fee is just part of the issue.
 

Mandatory 8-Hour Training

I also received an alert about the requirement for more “narcotics prescribing education” thanks to the Medication Access and Training Expansion Act (MATE). 

The requirement seems counterintuitive because opioid prescribing has decreased for the 10th consecutive year, according to the AMA Overdose Epidemic Report. The continuing rise in overdose deaths is largely due to illegitimate manufacturing of synthetic opioids. 

I’ve written zero outpatient narcotics prescriptions in the past 6 years, and I’ve written very few in my 33 years of practice. My use is limited to intravenous morphine for flash pulmonary edema or refractory angina, but unless you graduated from a training program within 5 years of the June 2023 mandate or are boarded in addiction medicine, there is no way to escape the 8-hour education requirement.

The problem is that these courses are never just 8 hours in duration. After signing up for one such CME course that cost $150, I was still dying of boredom and at risk for DVT 4 days later. That’s how long it took to sit through.

Instead of the 30 seconds it should have taken to review the simple instructions to deliver Narcan, there were scores of screens followed by juvenile quizlets and cartoons. All but about 2 hours out of the 4 days is now relegated to that category of “hours of my life that I can never get back.” Additionally, none of that mandatory “education” will change my prescribing habits one whit. 

And beware the penalty. 

Changes Needed

The only good thing that came of those 4 long days of opioid education was a motivation to drive change in our current licensing and educational experience. Why not use this opportunity to reform the DEA-physician/prescriber relationship? 

The educational requirements should be curtailed for those of us who do not provide outpatient narcotic prescriptions even if we use inpatient opioids. Meds with low abuse potential should be rescheduled to minimize who gets caught in the broad net of the education requirement. 

We should reduce overregulation of the legitimate prescribers by lowering, instead of increasing, licensing fees. We should change to a single license number that covers every state. In this digital age, there is no legitimate excuse to prevent this from happening. 

After all, the settlements from opioid manufacturers and distributors will in time total $50 billion. It seems that at least some of the responsibilities of the DEA could shift to states, cities, and towns. 

My friend Siamak Karimian, MD, who provides locum services in multiple states, pays for seven active DEA licenses every 3 years. He pointed out the hypocrisy in the current regulatory system: “It’s funny that you can have only one DEA or state license and work for the government in all other states or territories with no limits, including the VA, Indian healthcare systems, or prison systems.”

All other prescribers require a separate DEA number for every state. Ultimately, you’d think tracking prescriptions for a single DEA number should be far simpler than tracking someone with seven. 

Competent physicians not guilty of criminal overprescribing seem to be the last to be considered in nearly every healthcare endeavor these days. It would be refreshing if they would reduce our fees and prevent this waste of our time. 

And while we are at it, perhaps a more fitting punishment is due for Richard Sackler and all the Purdue Pharma–affiliated family members. The Sacklers will pay out $6 billion in exchange for immunity against civil litigation. That doesn’t seem like much when they are worth $11 billion. 

Perhaps they should be made to take an 8-hour course on opioid prescribing, annually and in perpetuity. Let’s see them complete a few quizlets and sit through screens of instruction on how to administer Naloxone. Of course, that would be a mild punishment for those who manufactured a drug that killed hundreds of thousands. But it would be a start. 
 

Dr. Walton-Shirley, a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tennessee, has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Last year, my husband and I took a 16-day road trip from Kentucky through Massachusetts to Maine. On our first morning in Boston, we exited the Park Street Station en route to Boston Common, but instead of being greeted by the aroma of molasses, we were hit full-on with a pungent, repulsive odor. “That’s skunk weed,” my husband chuckled as we stepped right into the middle of the Boston Freedom Rally, a celebration of all things cannabis.

As we boarded a hop-on-hop-off bus, we learned that this was the one week of the year that the city skips testing tour bus drivers for tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), “because we all test positive,” the driver quipped. As our open-air bus circled the Common, a crowd of pot enthusiasts displayed signs in support of relaxed regulation for public consumption.

The 34-year-old Boston Freedom Rally is a sign that U.S. culture has transformed forever. Mary Jane is no friend of emergency physicians nor of staff on hospital wards and offices. Health care workers should brace for the true impact of THC as its adoption by all ages rises.
 

Toking boomers and millennials

Researchers at the University of California, San Diego, looked at cannabis-related emergency department visits from all acute-care hospitals in the state from 2005 to 2019 and found an 1,808% increase in patients aged 65 or older (that is not a typo) who were there for complications from cannabis use.

The lead author said in an interview that, “older patients taking marijuana or related products may have dizziness and falls, heart palpitations, panic attacks, confusion, anxiety or worsening of underlying lung diseases, such as asthma or [chronic obstructive pulmonary disease].”

A recent study from Canada suggests that commercialization has been associated with an increase in related hospitalizations, including cannabis-induced psychosis.

According to a National Study of Drug Use and Health, marijuana use in young adults reached an all-time high (pun intended) in 2021. Nearly 10% of eighth graders and 20% of 10th graders reported using marijuana this past year.

The full downside of any drug, legal or illegal, is largely unknown until it infiltrates the mainstream market, but these are the typical cases we see:

Let’s start with the demotivated high school honors student who dropped out of college to work at the local cinema. He stumbled and broke his clavicle outside a bar at 2 AM, but he wasn’t sure if he passed out, so a cardiology consult was requested to “rule out” arrhythmia associated with syncope. He related that his plan to become a railway conductor had been upended because he knew he would be drug tested and just couldn’t give up pot. After a normal cardiac exam, ECG, labs, a Holter, and an echocardiogram were also requested and normal at a significant cost.
 

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome

One of my Midwest colleagues related her encounter with two middle-aged pot users with ventricular tachycardia (VT). These episodes coincided with potassium levels less than 3.0 mEq/L in the setting of repetitive vomiting. The QTc interval didn’t normalize despite a corrected potassium level in one patient. They were both informed that they should never smoke pot because vomiting would predictably drop their K+ levels again and prolong their QTc intervals. Then began “the circular argument,” as my friend described it. The patient claims, “I smoke pot to relieve my nausea,” to which she explains that “in many folks, pot use induces nausea.” Of course, the classic reply is, “Not me.” Predictably one of these stoners soon returned with more VT, more puking, and more hypokalemia. “Consider yourself ‘allergic’ to pot smoke,” my friend advised, but “was met with no meaningful hint of understanding or hope for transformative change,” she told me.

I’ve seen cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome several times in the past few years. It occurs in daily to weekly pot users. Very rarely, it can cause cerebral edema, but it is also associated with seizures and dehydration that can lead to hypovolemic shock and kidney failure.
 

Heart and brain harm

Then there are the young patients who for various reasons have developed heart failure. Unfortunately, some are repetitively tox screen positive with varying trifectas of methamphetamine (meth), cocaine, and THC; opiates, meth, and THC; alcohol, meth, and THC; or heroin, meth, and THC. THC, the ever present and essential third leg of the stool of stupor. These unfortunate patients often need heart failure medications that they can’t afford or won’t take because illicit drug use is expensive and dulls their ability to prioritize their health. Some desperately need a heart transplant, but the necessary negative drug screen is a pipe dream.

And it’s not just the heart that is affected. There are data linking cannabis use to a higher risk for both ischemic and hemorrhagic stroke. A retrospective study published in Stroke, of more than 1,000 people diagnosed with an aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhage, found that more than half of the 46 who tested positive for THC at admission developed delayed cerebral ischemia (DCI), which increases the risk for disability or early death. This was after adjusting for several patient characteristics as well as recent exposure to other illicit substances; cocaine, meth, and tobacco use were not associated with DCI.
 

Natural my ...

I’m certain my anti-cannabis stance will strike a nerve with those who love their recreational THC and push for its legal sale; after all, “It’s perfectly natural.” But I counter with the fact that tornadoes, earthquakes, cyanide, and appendicitis are all natural but certainly not optimal. And what we are seeing in the vascular specialties is completely unnatural. We are treating a different mix of complications than before pot was readily accessible across several states.

Our most effective action is to educate our patients. We should encourage those who don’t currently smoke cannabis to never start and those who do to quit. People who require marijuana for improved quality of life for terminal care or true (not supposed) disorders that mainstream medicine fails should be approached with empathy and caution.

A good rule of thumb is to never breathe anything you can see. Never put anything in your body that comes off the street: Drug dealers who sell cannabis cut with fentanyl will be ecstatic to take someone’s money then merely keep scrolling when their obituary comes up.

Let’s try to reverse the rise of vascular complications, orthopedic injuries, and vomiting across America. We can start by encouraging our patients to avoid “skunk weed” and get back to the sweet smells of nature in our cities and parks.

Some details have been changed to protect the patients’ identities, but the essence of their diagnoses has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a retired clinical cardiologist from Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

Last year, my husband and I took a 16-day road trip from Kentucky through Massachusetts to Maine. On our first morning in Boston, we exited the Park Street Station en route to Boston Common, but instead of being greeted by the aroma of molasses, we were hit full-on with a pungent, repulsive odor. “That’s skunk weed,” my husband chuckled as we stepped right into the middle of the Boston Freedom Rally, a celebration of all things cannabis.

As we boarded a hop-on-hop-off bus, we learned that this was the one week of the year that the city skips testing tour bus drivers for tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), “because we all test positive,” the driver quipped. As our open-air bus circled the Common, a crowd of pot enthusiasts displayed signs in support of relaxed regulation for public consumption.

The 34-year-old Boston Freedom Rally is a sign that U.S. culture has transformed forever. Mary Jane is no friend of emergency physicians nor of staff on hospital wards and offices. Health care workers should brace for the true impact of THC as its adoption by all ages rises.
 

Toking boomers and millennials

Researchers at the University of California, San Diego, looked at cannabis-related emergency department visits from all acute-care hospitals in the state from 2005 to 2019 and found an 1,808% increase in patients aged 65 or older (that is not a typo) who were there for complications from cannabis use.

The lead author said in an interview that, “older patients taking marijuana or related products may have dizziness and falls, heart palpitations, panic attacks, confusion, anxiety or worsening of underlying lung diseases, such as asthma or [chronic obstructive pulmonary disease].”

A recent study from Canada suggests that commercialization has been associated with an increase in related hospitalizations, including cannabis-induced psychosis.

According to a National Study of Drug Use and Health, marijuana use in young adults reached an all-time high (pun intended) in 2021. Nearly 10% of eighth graders and 20% of 10th graders reported using marijuana this past year.

The full downside of any drug, legal or illegal, is largely unknown until it infiltrates the mainstream market, but these are the typical cases we see:

Let’s start with the demotivated high school honors student who dropped out of college to work at the local cinema. He stumbled and broke his clavicle outside a bar at 2 AM, but he wasn’t sure if he passed out, so a cardiology consult was requested to “rule out” arrhythmia associated with syncope. He related that his plan to become a railway conductor had been upended because he knew he would be drug tested and just couldn’t give up pot. After a normal cardiac exam, ECG, labs, a Holter, and an echocardiogram were also requested and normal at a significant cost.
 

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome

One of my Midwest colleagues related her encounter with two middle-aged pot users with ventricular tachycardia (VT). These episodes coincided with potassium levels less than 3.0 mEq/L in the setting of repetitive vomiting. The QTc interval didn’t normalize despite a corrected potassium level in one patient. They were both informed that they should never smoke pot because vomiting would predictably drop their K+ levels again and prolong their QTc intervals. Then began “the circular argument,” as my friend described it. The patient claims, “I smoke pot to relieve my nausea,” to which she explains that “in many folks, pot use induces nausea.” Of course, the classic reply is, “Not me.” Predictably one of these stoners soon returned with more VT, more puking, and more hypokalemia. “Consider yourself ‘allergic’ to pot smoke,” my friend advised, but “was met with no meaningful hint of understanding or hope for transformative change,” she told me.

I’ve seen cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome several times in the past few years. It occurs in daily to weekly pot users. Very rarely, it can cause cerebral edema, but it is also associated with seizures and dehydration that can lead to hypovolemic shock and kidney failure.
 

Heart and brain harm

Then there are the young patients who for various reasons have developed heart failure. Unfortunately, some are repetitively tox screen positive with varying trifectas of methamphetamine (meth), cocaine, and THC; opiates, meth, and THC; alcohol, meth, and THC; or heroin, meth, and THC. THC, the ever present and essential third leg of the stool of stupor. These unfortunate patients often need heart failure medications that they can’t afford or won’t take because illicit drug use is expensive and dulls their ability to prioritize their health. Some desperately need a heart transplant, but the necessary negative drug screen is a pipe dream.

And it’s not just the heart that is affected. There are data linking cannabis use to a higher risk for both ischemic and hemorrhagic stroke. A retrospective study published in Stroke, of more than 1,000 people diagnosed with an aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhage, found that more than half of the 46 who tested positive for THC at admission developed delayed cerebral ischemia (DCI), which increases the risk for disability or early death. This was after adjusting for several patient characteristics as well as recent exposure to other illicit substances; cocaine, meth, and tobacco use were not associated with DCI.
 

Natural my ...

I’m certain my anti-cannabis stance will strike a nerve with those who love their recreational THC and push for its legal sale; after all, “It’s perfectly natural.” But I counter with the fact that tornadoes, earthquakes, cyanide, and appendicitis are all natural but certainly not optimal. And what we are seeing in the vascular specialties is completely unnatural. We are treating a different mix of complications than before pot was readily accessible across several states.

Our most effective action is to educate our patients. We should encourage those who don’t currently smoke cannabis to never start and those who do to quit. People who require marijuana for improved quality of life for terminal care or true (not supposed) disorders that mainstream medicine fails should be approached with empathy and caution.

A good rule of thumb is to never breathe anything you can see. Never put anything in your body that comes off the street: Drug dealers who sell cannabis cut with fentanyl will be ecstatic to take someone’s money then merely keep scrolling when their obituary comes up.

Let’s try to reverse the rise of vascular complications, orthopedic injuries, and vomiting across America. We can start by encouraging our patients to avoid “skunk weed” and get back to the sweet smells of nature in our cities and parks.

Some details have been changed to protect the patients’ identities, but the essence of their diagnoses has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a retired clinical cardiologist from Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

Last year, my husband and I took a 16-day road trip from Kentucky through Massachusetts to Maine. On our first morning in Boston, we exited the Park Street Station en route to Boston Common, but instead of being greeted by the aroma of molasses, we were hit full-on with a pungent, repulsive odor. “That’s skunk weed,” my husband chuckled as we stepped right into the middle of the Boston Freedom Rally, a celebration of all things cannabis.

As we boarded a hop-on-hop-off bus, we learned that this was the one week of the year that the city skips testing tour bus drivers for tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), “because we all test positive,” the driver quipped. As our open-air bus circled the Common, a crowd of pot enthusiasts displayed signs in support of relaxed regulation for public consumption.

The 34-year-old Boston Freedom Rally is a sign that U.S. culture has transformed forever. Mary Jane is no friend of emergency physicians nor of staff on hospital wards and offices. Health care workers should brace for the true impact of THC as its adoption by all ages rises.
 

Toking boomers and millennials

Researchers at the University of California, San Diego, looked at cannabis-related emergency department visits from all acute-care hospitals in the state from 2005 to 2019 and found an 1,808% increase in patients aged 65 or older (that is not a typo) who were there for complications from cannabis use.

The lead author said in an interview that, “older patients taking marijuana or related products may have dizziness and falls, heart palpitations, panic attacks, confusion, anxiety or worsening of underlying lung diseases, such as asthma or [chronic obstructive pulmonary disease].”

A recent study from Canada suggests that commercialization has been associated with an increase in related hospitalizations, including cannabis-induced psychosis.

According to a National Study of Drug Use and Health, marijuana use in young adults reached an all-time high (pun intended) in 2021. Nearly 10% of eighth graders and 20% of 10th graders reported using marijuana this past year.

The full downside of any drug, legal or illegal, is largely unknown until it infiltrates the mainstream market, but these are the typical cases we see:

Let’s start with the demotivated high school honors student who dropped out of college to work at the local cinema. He stumbled and broke his clavicle outside a bar at 2 AM, but he wasn’t sure if he passed out, so a cardiology consult was requested to “rule out” arrhythmia associated with syncope. He related that his plan to become a railway conductor had been upended because he knew he would be drug tested and just couldn’t give up pot. After a normal cardiac exam, ECG, labs, a Holter, and an echocardiogram were also requested and normal at a significant cost.
 

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome

One of my Midwest colleagues related her encounter with two middle-aged pot users with ventricular tachycardia (VT). These episodes coincided with potassium levels less than 3.0 mEq/L in the setting of repetitive vomiting. The QTc interval didn’t normalize despite a corrected potassium level in one patient. They were both informed that they should never smoke pot because vomiting would predictably drop their K+ levels again and prolong their QTc intervals. Then began “the circular argument,” as my friend described it. The patient claims, “I smoke pot to relieve my nausea,” to which she explains that “in many folks, pot use induces nausea.” Of course, the classic reply is, “Not me.” Predictably one of these stoners soon returned with more VT, more puking, and more hypokalemia. “Consider yourself ‘allergic’ to pot smoke,” my friend advised, but “was met with no meaningful hint of understanding or hope for transformative change,” she told me.

I’ve seen cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome several times in the past few years. It occurs in daily to weekly pot users. Very rarely, it can cause cerebral edema, but it is also associated with seizures and dehydration that can lead to hypovolemic shock and kidney failure.
 

Heart and brain harm

Then there are the young patients who for various reasons have developed heart failure. Unfortunately, some are repetitively tox screen positive with varying trifectas of methamphetamine (meth), cocaine, and THC; opiates, meth, and THC; alcohol, meth, and THC; or heroin, meth, and THC. THC, the ever present and essential third leg of the stool of stupor. These unfortunate patients often need heart failure medications that they can’t afford or won’t take because illicit drug use is expensive and dulls their ability to prioritize their health. Some desperately need a heart transplant, but the necessary negative drug screen is a pipe dream.

And it’s not just the heart that is affected. There are data linking cannabis use to a higher risk for both ischemic and hemorrhagic stroke. A retrospective study published in Stroke, of more than 1,000 people diagnosed with an aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhage, found that more than half of the 46 who tested positive for THC at admission developed delayed cerebral ischemia (DCI), which increases the risk for disability or early death. This was after adjusting for several patient characteristics as well as recent exposure to other illicit substances; cocaine, meth, and tobacco use were not associated with DCI.
 

Natural my ...

I’m certain my anti-cannabis stance will strike a nerve with those who love their recreational THC and push for its legal sale; after all, “It’s perfectly natural.” But I counter with the fact that tornadoes, earthquakes, cyanide, and appendicitis are all natural but certainly not optimal. And what we are seeing in the vascular specialties is completely unnatural. We are treating a different mix of complications than before pot was readily accessible across several states.

Our most effective action is to educate our patients. We should encourage those who don’t currently smoke cannabis to never start and those who do to quit. People who require marijuana for improved quality of life for terminal care or true (not supposed) disorders that mainstream medicine fails should be approached with empathy and caution.

A good rule of thumb is to never breathe anything you can see. Never put anything in your body that comes off the street: Drug dealers who sell cannabis cut with fentanyl will be ecstatic to take someone’s money then merely keep scrolling when their obituary comes up.

Let’s try to reverse the rise of vascular complications, orthopedic injuries, and vomiting across America. We can start by encouraging our patients to avoid “skunk weed” and get back to the sweet smells of nature in our cities and parks.

Some details have been changed to protect the patients’ identities, but the essence of their diagnoses has been preserved.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a retired clinical cardiologist from Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

More than 140 million Americans use artificial sweeteners, a habit driven by the irrefutable fact that excess sugar is harmful. But I’m continually amazed by alarmist headlines on the topic.

In May, the World Health Organization (WHO) released a report to support its “conditional recommendation” against the use of non-sugar sweeteners (NSS) for weight control. Despite the WHO’s goal “to provide evidence-informed guidance,” the report includes the disclaimer that “The recommendation is based on evidence of low certainty.”

Low certainty is an accurate descriptor for the findings of many of the 280-plus studies in the report. That the guidance does not apply to patients with diabetes was easily lost in the repeated mentions of the perceived dangers of these sugar alternatives.

The review included various table-top and beverage sweeteners, including acesulfame K, aspartame, saccharin, sucralose, stevia, and stevia derivatives. Low-calorie sugars and sugar alcohols such as erythritol were excluded.

The WHO looked at long- and short-term trials, randomized controlled trials (RCTs), prospective studies, and case-control studies measuring a wide range of endpoints, from dental caries to cancer. The report highlighted that some findings cannot be attributed directly to NSS use but may simply be due to their substitution for sugar. Differences in outcomes due to sex, ethnicity, and body weight status could not be assessed either. And the WHO conceded the possibility of reverse causation in observational studies wherein higher-risk individuals may consume more NSS.

Nonnutritive sweeteners are given little credit for weight loss. “A significant difference in body weight and BMI was only observed in trials that reported a reduction in energy intake ... rather than primarily by an inherent property of NSS that can modulate body weight (independently of energy intake),” the report reads. But isn’t the desired effect of using an artificial sweetener instead of table sugar that you lower your calorie intake?

The WHO noted that weight loss was not sustained – a finding in nearly every weight loss trial in history and something more attributable to human nature than the sweetener one chooses.

The document outlines that meta-analyses of prospective cohort studies show that higher intakes of NSS were associated with an increased risk for type 2 diabetes and elevated fasting glucose, while meta-analyses of randomized trials suggest no significant effect on “biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of diabetes and insulin resistance, including fasting glucose, fasting insulin and hemoglobin A1c.”

Similar disparities are noted with cardiovascular risk. Prospective trials suggest an increased risk for CVD, including stroke and its precursor, hypertension; but again, the RCT data found no evidence to suggest a significant effect “on biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of CVDs, including blood pressure, low-density lipoprotein cholesterol and other blood lipids.”
 

Splenda and stevia under fire

Predictably, some in the nonnutritive sweetener industry are incensed.

Ted Gelov, CEO of Heartland Food Products Group, maker of Splenda, responded in a press release, “Every few years now it seems I have to come to you and clarify misleading headlines ... Suggesting that sweeteners like Splenda cannot have long-term benefits is a disservice to healthcare providers, their patients, and all consumers.”

Splenda has been on the U.S. market since 1999, and Mr. Gelov reportedly uses three to eight packets daily in his coffee and tea.

I reached out to Heartland and they sent me an eight-page document consisting of over 50 statements, summaries, and clinical trials supporting the safety of artificial sweeteners, including sucralose, an ingredient in Splenda. In 2016, Mr. Gelov rebutted claims that sucralose was linked to cancer in Swiss male mice. These “dramatized headlines are based on one flawed study by an isolated Italian research laboratory, the Ramazzini Institute,” Mr. Gelov wrote.

Another recent headline was about the DNA-damaging effects of sucralose-6-acetate (S6A) seen in an in vitro study published in the Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health. According to the authors, commercial sucralose samples contain up to 0.67% S6A, a manufacturing impurity.

Despite many reports linking this study to Splenda, Heartland wrote that “Splenda and its ingredients were never studied or tested in this research. We, and our suppliers, rigorously and routinely test and monitor for any impurities in our products. We can confirm that S6A is not present in Splenda Brand sucralose down to the lowest detection limit possible, which is .001% sensitivity level.”

F. Perry Wilson, MD, director of Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale and a regular contributor to this news organization, took to Twitter to put this study in context: “The human exposure equivalent to sucralose would be 60 packets per day,” he pointed out. And the blood levels of S6A with normal consumption would not “come close to the DNA damage threshold noted in the article.”

Perhaps the most concerning scientific data suggesting a link between artificial sweetener use and ill health is a Cleveland Clinic study showing an association between higher blood levels of erythritol and adverse cardiovascular outcomes such as heart attack, stroke, or death. The researchers also found that erythritol, which is found in stevia and some keto food products, made platelet activation and clot formation easier.

When I asked about these findings, Heartland stated, “The study was primarily conducted on patients who were at an elevated risk of cardiovascular events due to their advanced age, elevated body mass and presence of pre-existing health conditions ... the stated findings were only an association and cannot imply causation.”

The main conclusion I’ve drawn on the topic of artificial sweeteners is that a lot of resources were wasted in performing underpowered, poorly designed trials on compounds that are already generally regarded as safe (GRAS) by the FDA. The WHO “conditional guideline” is, by its own description, based on a plethora of “low certainty” to “very low certainty” evidence.

The monies to produce the WHO report and many of these trials would have been better spent educating the public on the difference between simple and complex carbohydrates; the inflammatory and disease-producing effects of excess sugars; and how to prevent, diagnose, and treat diabetes.

If more trials on artificial sweeteners are planned, they should be performed on people doing human things – which does not include ingesting 60 packets of any sweetener in a single day.

In my personal N-of-1 trial, consuming sugar makes me crave more, feel sluggish, and gain weight. I don’t believe that NSS alone will control my weight. But I’ll continue to drink two cups of stevia-laced coffee every morning, take walks, avoid alcohol, eat my vegetables, and hope for the best.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

More than 140 million Americans use artificial sweeteners, a habit driven by the irrefutable fact that excess sugar is harmful. But I’m continually amazed by alarmist headlines on the topic.

In May, the World Health Organization (WHO) released a report to support its “conditional recommendation” against the use of non-sugar sweeteners (NSS) for weight control. Despite the WHO’s goal “to provide evidence-informed guidance,” the report includes the disclaimer that “The recommendation is based on evidence of low certainty.”

Low certainty is an accurate descriptor for the findings of many of the 280-plus studies in the report. That the guidance does not apply to patients with diabetes was easily lost in the repeated mentions of the perceived dangers of these sugar alternatives.

The review included various table-top and beverage sweeteners, including acesulfame K, aspartame, saccharin, sucralose, stevia, and stevia derivatives. Low-calorie sugars and sugar alcohols such as erythritol were excluded.

The WHO looked at long- and short-term trials, randomized controlled trials (RCTs), prospective studies, and case-control studies measuring a wide range of endpoints, from dental caries to cancer. The report highlighted that some findings cannot be attributed directly to NSS use but may simply be due to their substitution for sugar. Differences in outcomes due to sex, ethnicity, and body weight status could not be assessed either. And the WHO conceded the possibility of reverse causation in observational studies wherein higher-risk individuals may consume more NSS.

Nonnutritive sweeteners are given little credit for weight loss. “A significant difference in body weight and BMI was only observed in trials that reported a reduction in energy intake ... rather than primarily by an inherent property of NSS that can modulate body weight (independently of energy intake),” the report reads. But isn’t the desired effect of using an artificial sweetener instead of table sugar that you lower your calorie intake?

The WHO noted that weight loss was not sustained – a finding in nearly every weight loss trial in history and something more attributable to human nature than the sweetener one chooses.

The document outlines that meta-analyses of prospective cohort studies show that higher intakes of NSS were associated with an increased risk for type 2 diabetes and elevated fasting glucose, while meta-analyses of randomized trials suggest no significant effect on “biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of diabetes and insulin resistance, including fasting glucose, fasting insulin and hemoglobin A1c.”

Similar disparities are noted with cardiovascular risk. Prospective trials suggest an increased risk for CVD, including stroke and its precursor, hypertension; but again, the RCT data found no evidence to suggest a significant effect “on biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of CVDs, including blood pressure, low-density lipoprotein cholesterol and other blood lipids.”
 

Splenda and stevia under fire

Predictably, some in the nonnutritive sweetener industry are incensed.

Ted Gelov, CEO of Heartland Food Products Group, maker of Splenda, responded in a press release, “Every few years now it seems I have to come to you and clarify misleading headlines ... Suggesting that sweeteners like Splenda cannot have long-term benefits is a disservice to healthcare providers, their patients, and all consumers.”

Splenda has been on the U.S. market since 1999, and Mr. Gelov reportedly uses three to eight packets daily in his coffee and tea.

I reached out to Heartland and they sent me an eight-page document consisting of over 50 statements, summaries, and clinical trials supporting the safety of artificial sweeteners, including sucralose, an ingredient in Splenda. In 2016, Mr. Gelov rebutted claims that sucralose was linked to cancer in Swiss male mice. These “dramatized headlines are based on one flawed study by an isolated Italian research laboratory, the Ramazzini Institute,” Mr. Gelov wrote.

Another recent headline was about the DNA-damaging effects of sucralose-6-acetate (S6A) seen in an in vitro study published in the Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health. According to the authors, commercial sucralose samples contain up to 0.67% S6A, a manufacturing impurity.

Despite many reports linking this study to Splenda, Heartland wrote that “Splenda and its ingredients were never studied or tested in this research. We, and our suppliers, rigorously and routinely test and monitor for any impurities in our products. We can confirm that S6A is not present in Splenda Brand sucralose down to the lowest detection limit possible, which is .001% sensitivity level.”

F. Perry Wilson, MD, director of Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale and a regular contributor to this news organization, took to Twitter to put this study in context: “The human exposure equivalent to sucralose would be 60 packets per day,” he pointed out. And the blood levels of S6A with normal consumption would not “come close to the DNA damage threshold noted in the article.”

Perhaps the most concerning scientific data suggesting a link between artificial sweetener use and ill health is a Cleveland Clinic study showing an association between higher blood levels of erythritol and adverse cardiovascular outcomes such as heart attack, stroke, or death. The researchers also found that erythritol, which is found in stevia and some keto food products, made platelet activation and clot formation easier.

When I asked about these findings, Heartland stated, “The study was primarily conducted on patients who were at an elevated risk of cardiovascular events due to their advanced age, elevated body mass and presence of pre-existing health conditions ... the stated findings were only an association and cannot imply causation.”

The main conclusion I’ve drawn on the topic of artificial sweeteners is that a lot of resources were wasted in performing underpowered, poorly designed trials on compounds that are already generally regarded as safe (GRAS) by the FDA. The WHO “conditional guideline” is, by its own description, based on a plethora of “low certainty” to “very low certainty” evidence.

The monies to produce the WHO report and many of these trials would have been better spent educating the public on the difference between simple and complex carbohydrates; the inflammatory and disease-producing effects of excess sugars; and how to prevent, diagnose, and treat diabetes.

If more trials on artificial sweeteners are planned, they should be performed on people doing human things – which does not include ingesting 60 packets of any sweetener in a single day.

In my personal N-of-1 trial, consuming sugar makes me crave more, feel sluggish, and gain weight. I don’t believe that NSS alone will control my weight. But I’ll continue to drink two cups of stevia-laced coffee every morning, take walks, avoid alcohol, eat my vegetables, and hope for the best.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

More than 140 million Americans use artificial sweeteners, a habit driven by the irrefutable fact that excess sugar is harmful. But I’m continually amazed by alarmist headlines on the topic.

In May, the World Health Organization (WHO) released a report to support its “conditional recommendation” against the use of non-sugar sweeteners (NSS) for weight control. Despite the WHO’s goal “to provide evidence-informed guidance,” the report includes the disclaimer that “The recommendation is based on evidence of low certainty.”

Low certainty is an accurate descriptor for the findings of many of the 280-plus studies in the report. That the guidance does not apply to patients with diabetes was easily lost in the repeated mentions of the perceived dangers of these sugar alternatives.

The review included various table-top and beverage sweeteners, including acesulfame K, aspartame, saccharin, sucralose, stevia, and stevia derivatives. Low-calorie sugars and sugar alcohols such as erythritol were excluded.

The WHO looked at long- and short-term trials, randomized controlled trials (RCTs), prospective studies, and case-control studies measuring a wide range of endpoints, from dental caries to cancer. The report highlighted that some findings cannot be attributed directly to NSS use but may simply be due to their substitution for sugar. Differences in outcomes due to sex, ethnicity, and body weight status could not be assessed either. And the WHO conceded the possibility of reverse causation in observational studies wherein higher-risk individuals may consume more NSS.

Nonnutritive sweeteners are given little credit for weight loss. “A significant difference in body weight and BMI was only observed in trials that reported a reduction in energy intake ... rather than primarily by an inherent property of NSS that can modulate body weight (independently of energy intake),” the report reads. But isn’t the desired effect of using an artificial sweetener instead of table sugar that you lower your calorie intake?

The WHO noted that weight loss was not sustained – a finding in nearly every weight loss trial in history and something more attributable to human nature than the sweetener one chooses.

The document outlines that meta-analyses of prospective cohort studies show that higher intakes of NSS were associated with an increased risk for type 2 diabetes and elevated fasting glucose, while meta-analyses of randomized trials suggest no significant effect on “biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of diabetes and insulin resistance, including fasting glucose, fasting insulin and hemoglobin A1c.”

Similar disparities are noted with cardiovascular risk. Prospective trials suggest an increased risk for CVD, including stroke and its precursor, hypertension; but again, the RCT data found no evidence to suggest a significant effect “on biomarkers used in the assessment and diagnosis of CVDs, including blood pressure, low-density lipoprotein cholesterol and other blood lipids.”
 

Splenda and stevia under fire

Predictably, some in the nonnutritive sweetener industry are incensed.

Ted Gelov, CEO of Heartland Food Products Group, maker of Splenda, responded in a press release, “Every few years now it seems I have to come to you and clarify misleading headlines ... Suggesting that sweeteners like Splenda cannot have long-term benefits is a disservice to healthcare providers, their patients, and all consumers.”

Splenda has been on the U.S. market since 1999, and Mr. Gelov reportedly uses three to eight packets daily in his coffee and tea.

I reached out to Heartland and they sent me an eight-page document consisting of over 50 statements, summaries, and clinical trials supporting the safety of artificial sweeteners, including sucralose, an ingredient in Splenda. In 2016, Mr. Gelov rebutted claims that sucralose was linked to cancer in Swiss male mice. These “dramatized headlines are based on one flawed study by an isolated Italian research laboratory, the Ramazzini Institute,” Mr. Gelov wrote.

Another recent headline was about the DNA-damaging effects of sucralose-6-acetate (S6A) seen in an in vitro study published in the Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health. According to the authors, commercial sucralose samples contain up to 0.67% S6A, a manufacturing impurity.

Despite many reports linking this study to Splenda, Heartland wrote that “Splenda and its ingredients were never studied or tested in this research. We, and our suppliers, rigorously and routinely test and monitor for any impurities in our products. We can confirm that S6A is not present in Splenda Brand sucralose down to the lowest detection limit possible, which is .001% sensitivity level.”

F. Perry Wilson, MD, director of Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale and a regular contributor to this news organization, took to Twitter to put this study in context: “The human exposure equivalent to sucralose would be 60 packets per day,” he pointed out. And the blood levels of S6A with normal consumption would not “come close to the DNA damage threshold noted in the article.”

Perhaps the most concerning scientific data suggesting a link between artificial sweetener use and ill health is a Cleveland Clinic study showing an association between higher blood levels of erythritol and adverse cardiovascular outcomes such as heart attack, stroke, or death. The researchers also found that erythritol, which is found in stevia and some keto food products, made platelet activation and clot formation easier.

When I asked about these findings, Heartland stated, “The study was primarily conducted on patients who were at an elevated risk of cardiovascular events due to their advanced age, elevated body mass and presence of pre-existing health conditions ... the stated findings were only an association and cannot imply causation.”

The main conclusion I’ve drawn on the topic of artificial sweeteners is that a lot of resources were wasted in performing underpowered, poorly designed trials on compounds that are already generally regarded as safe (GRAS) by the FDA. The WHO “conditional guideline” is, by its own description, based on a plethora of “low certainty” to “very low certainty” evidence.

The monies to produce the WHO report and many of these trials would have been better spent educating the public on the difference between simple and complex carbohydrates; the inflammatory and disease-producing effects of excess sugars; and how to prevent, diagnose, and treat diabetes.

If more trials on artificial sweeteners are planned, they should be performed on people doing human things – which does not include ingesting 60 packets of any sweetener in a single day.

In my personal N-of-1 trial, consuming sugar makes me crave more, feel sluggish, and gain weight. I don’t believe that NSS alone will control my weight. But I’ll continue to drink two cups of stevia-laced coffee every morning, take walks, avoid alcohol, eat my vegetables, and hope for the best.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

I agree with most advice given by the affable TV character Ted Lasso. “Every choice is a chance,” he said. Pandemic-era physicians must now consider whether a politically motivated choice to decline COVID-19 vaccination should negatively affect the chance to receive an organ donation.

And in confronting these choices, we have a chance to educate the public on the complexities of the organ allocation process.

A well-informed patient’s personal choice should be honored, even if clinicians disagree, if it does not affect the well-being of others. For example, I once had a patient in acute leukemic crisis who declined blood products because she was a Jehovah’s Witness. She died. Her choice affected her longevity only.

Compare that decision with awarding an organ to an individual who has declined readily available protection of that organ. Weigh that choice against the fact that said protection is against an infectious disease that has killed over 5.5 million worldwide.
 

Some institutions stand strong, others hedge their bets

Admirably, Loyola University Health System understands that difference. They published a firm stand on transplant candidacy and COVID-19 vaccination status in the Journal of Heart and Lung Transplant. Daniel Dilling, MD, medical director of the lung transplantation program , and Mark Kuczewski, PhD, a professor of medical ethics at Loyola University Chicago, Maywood, Ill., wrote that: “We believe that requiring vaccination against COVID-19 should not be controversial when we focus strictly on established frameworks and practices surrounding eligibility for wait-listing to receive a solid organ transplant.”

The Cleveland Clinic apparently agrees. In October 2021, they denied a liver transplant to Michelle Vitullo of Ohio, whose daughter had been deemed “a perfect match.” Her daughter, also unvaccinated, stated: “Being denied for a nonmedical reason for someone’s beliefs that are different to yours, I mean that’s not how that should be.”

But vaccination status is a medical reason, given well-established data regarding increased mortality  among the immunosuppressed. Ms. Vitullo then said: “We are trying to get to UPMC [University of Pittsburgh Medical Center] as they don’t require a vaccination.”

The public information page on transplant candidacy from UPMC reads (my italics): It is recommended that all transplant candidates, transplant recipients, and their household members receive COVID-19 vaccination when the vaccine is available to them. It is preferred that transplant candidates are vaccinated more than 2 weeks before transplantation.

I reached out to UPMC for clarification and was told by email that “we do not have a policy regarding COVID-19 vaccination requirement for current transplant candidates.” Houston Methodist shares the same agnostic stance.

Compare these opinions with Brigham and Women’s Hospital, where the requirements are resolute: “Like most other transplant programs across the country, the COVID-19 vaccine is one of several vaccines and lifestyle behaviors that are required for patients awaiting solid organ transplant.”

They add that “transplant candidates must also receive the seasonal influenza and hepatitis B vaccines, follow other healthy behaviors, and demonstrate they can commit to taking the required medications following transplant.”

In January 2022, Brigham and Women’s Hospital declared 31-year-old D.J. Ferguson ineligible for a heart transplant because he declined to be vaccinated against COVID-19. According to the New York Post and ABC News, his physicians resorted to left ventricular assist device support. His mother, Tracy Ferguson, is quoted as saying: “He’s not an antivaxxer. He has all of his vaccines.” I’ll just leave that right there.

Unfortunately, Michelle Vitullo’s obituary was published in December 2021. Regardless of whether she received her liver transplant, the outcome is tragic, and whatever you think of this family’s battle playing out in the glare of the national spotlight, their loss is no less devastating.

The directed-donation aspect of this case poses an interesting question. A news anchor asked the mother and daughter: “If you both accept the risks, why doesn’t the hospital just let you try?” The answers are obvious to us clinicians. Performing a transplantation in an unvaccinated patient could lead to their early death if they became infected because of their immunocompromised state, would open the door for transplantation of any patient who is unvaccinated for anything, including influenza and hepatitis B, which could result in the preventable waste of organs, and puts other vulnerable hospitalized patients at risk during the initial transplant stay and follow-up.

That’s not to mention the potential legal suit. Never has a consent form dissuaded any party from lodging an accusation of wrongful death or medical malpractice. In the face of strong data on higher mortality in unvaccinated, immunocompromised patients, a good lawyer could charge that the institution and transplant surgeons should have known better, regardless of the donor and recipient’s willingness to accept the risks.

The Vitullo and Ferguson cases are among many similar dilemmas surrounding transplant candidacy across the United States.

University of Virginia Health in Charlottesville denied 42-year-old Shamgar Connors a kidney transplant because he is unvaccinated, despite a previous COVID-19 infection. In October 2021, Leilani Lutali of Colorado was denied a kidney by UCHealth because she declined vaccination. 

AppleTV

As Ted Lasso says: “There’s a bunch of crazy stuff on Twitter.”

Predictably, social media is full of public outcry. “Some cold-hearted people on here” tweeted one. “What if it was one of your loved ones who needed a transplant?” Another tweeted the Hippocratic oath with the comment that “They all swore under this noble ‘oat’, but I guess it’s been forgotten.” (This was followed with a photo of a box of Quaker Oats in a failed attempt at humor.) These discussions among the Twitterati highlight the depths of misunderstanding on organ transplantation.

To be fair, unless you have been personally involved in the decision-making process for transplant candidacy, there is little opportunity to be educated. I explain to my anxious patients and their families that a donor organ is like a fumbled football. There may be well over 100 patients at all levels of transplant status in many geographic locations diving for that same organ.

The transplant team is tasked with finding the best match, determining who is the sickest, assessing time for transport of that organ, and, above all, who will be the best steward of that organ.

Take heart transplantation, for instance. Approximately 3,500 patients in the United States are awaiting one each year. Instead of facing an almost certain death within 5 years, a transplant recipient has a chance at a median survival of 12-13 years. The cost of a heart transplant is approximately $1.38 million, according to Milliman, a consulting firm. This is “an incredibly resource intensive procedure,” including expenditures for transportation, antirejection medication, office visits, physician fees, ICU stays, rejection surveillance, and acute rejection therapies.
 

Transplant denial is nothing new

People get turned down for organ transplants all the time. My patient with end-stage dilated cardiomyopathy was denied a heart transplant when it was discovered that he had scores of outstanding parking tickets. This was seen as a surrogate for an inability to afford his antirejection medication.

Another patient swore that her positive cotinine levels were caused by endless hours at the bingo hall where second-hand smoke swirled. She was also denied. Many potential candidates who are in acute decline hold precariously to newfound sobriety. They are denied. A patient’s boyfriend told the transplant team that he couldn’t be relied upon to drive her to her appointments. She was denied.

Many people who engage in antisocial behaviors have no idea that these actions may result in the denial of an organ transplant should their future selves need one. These are hard lines, but everyone should agree that the odds of survival are heavily in favor of the consistently adherent.

We should take this opportunity to educate the public on how complicated obtaining an organ transplant can be. More than 6,000 people die each year waiting for an organ because of the supply-and-demand disparities in the transplantation arena. I’m willing to bet that many of the loudest protesters in favor of unvaccinated transplant recipients have not signed the organ donor box on the back of their driver’s license. This conversation is an opportunity to change that and remind people that organ donation may be their only opportunity to save a fellow human’s life.

Again, to quote Ted Lasso: “If you care about someone and you got a little love in your heart, there ain’t nothing you can’t get through together.” That philosophy should apply to the tasks of selecting the best organ donors as well as the best organ recipients.

And every organ should go to the one who will honor their donor and their donor’s family by taking the best care of that ultimate gift of life, including being vaccinated against COVID-19.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

I agree with most advice given by the affable TV character Ted Lasso. “Every choice is a chance,” he said. Pandemic-era physicians must now consider whether a politically motivated choice to decline COVID-19 vaccination should negatively affect the chance to receive an organ donation.

And in confronting these choices, we have a chance to educate the public on the complexities of the organ allocation process.

A well-informed patient’s personal choice should be honored, even if clinicians disagree, if it does not affect the well-being of others. For example, I once had a patient in acute leukemic crisis who declined blood products because she was a Jehovah’s Witness. She died. Her choice affected her longevity only.

Compare that decision with awarding an organ to an individual who has declined readily available protection of that organ. Weigh that choice against the fact that said protection is against an infectious disease that has killed over 5.5 million worldwide.
 

Some institutions stand strong, others hedge their bets

Admirably, Loyola University Health System understands that difference. They published a firm stand on transplant candidacy and COVID-19 vaccination status in the Journal of Heart and Lung Transplant. Daniel Dilling, MD, medical director of the lung transplantation program , and Mark Kuczewski, PhD, a professor of medical ethics at Loyola University Chicago, Maywood, Ill., wrote that: “We believe that requiring vaccination against COVID-19 should not be controversial when we focus strictly on established frameworks and practices surrounding eligibility for wait-listing to receive a solid organ transplant.”

The Cleveland Clinic apparently agrees. In October 2021, they denied a liver transplant to Michelle Vitullo of Ohio, whose daughter had been deemed “a perfect match.” Her daughter, also unvaccinated, stated: “Being denied for a nonmedical reason for someone’s beliefs that are different to yours, I mean that’s not how that should be.”

But vaccination status is a medical reason, given well-established data regarding increased mortality  among the immunosuppressed. Ms. Vitullo then said: “We are trying to get to UPMC [University of Pittsburgh Medical Center] as they don’t require a vaccination.”

The public information page on transplant candidacy from UPMC reads (my italics): It is recommended that all transplant candidates, transplant recipients, and their household members receive COVID-19 vaccination when the vaccine is available to them. It is preferred that transplant candidates are vaccinated more than 2 weeks before transplantation.

I reached out to UPMC for clarification and was told by email that “we do not have a policy regarding COVID-19 vaccination requirement for current transplant candidates.” Houston Methodist shares the same agnostic stance.

Compare these opinions with Brigham and Women’s Hospital, where the requirements are resolute: “Like most other transplant programs across the country, the COVID-19 vaccine is one of several vaccines and lifestyle behaviors that are required for patients awaiting solid organ transplant.”

They add that “transplant candidates must also receive the seasonal influenza and hepatitis B vaccines, follow other healthy behaviors, and demonstrate they can commit to taking the required medications following transplant.”

In January 2022, Brigham and Women’s Hospital declared 31-year-old D.J. Ferguson ineligible for a heart transplant because he declined to be vaccinated against COVID-19. According to the New York Post and ABC News, his physicians resorted to left ventricular assist device support. His mother, Tracy Ferguson, is quoted as saying: “He’s not an antivaxxer. He has all of his vaccines.” I’ll just leave that right there.

Unfortunately, Michelle Vitullo’s obituary was published in December 2021. Regardless of whether she received her liver transplant, the outcome is tragic, and whatever you think of this family’s battle playing out in the glare of the national spotlight, their loss is no less devastating.

The directed-donation aspect of this case poses an interesting question. A news anchor asked the mother and daughter: “If you both accept the risks, why doesn’t the hospital just let you try?” The answers are obvious to us clinicians. Performing a transplantation in an unvaccinated patient could lead to their early death if they became infected because of their immunocompromised state, would open the door for transplantation of any patient who is unvaccinated for anything, including influenza and hepatitis B, which could result in the preventable waste of organs, and puts other vulnerable hospitalized patients at risk during the initial transplant stay and follow-up.

That’s not to mention the potential legal suit. Never has a consent form dissuaded any party from lodging an accusation of wrongful death or medical malpractice. In the face of strong data on higher mortality in unvaccinated, immunocompromised patients, a good lawyer could charge that the institution and transplant surgeons should have known better, regardless of the donor and recipient’s willingness to accept the risks.

The Vitullo and Ferguson cases are among many similar dilemmas surrounding transplant candidacy across the United States.

University of Virginia Health in Charlottesville denied 42-year-old Shamgar Connors a kidney transplant because he is unvaccinated, despite a previous COVID-19 infection. In October 2021, Leilani Lutali of Colorado was denied a kidney by UCHealth because she declined vaccination. 

AppleTV

As Ted Lasso says: “There’s a bunch of crazy stuff on Twitter.”

Predictably, social media is full of public outcry. “Some cold-hearted people on here” tweeted one. “What if it was one of your loved ones who needed a transplant?” Another tweeted the Hippocratic oath with the comment that “They all swore under this noble ‘oat’, but I guess it’s been forgotten.” (This was followed with a photo of a box of Quaker Oats in a failed attempt at humor.) These discussions among the Twitterati highlight the depths of misunderstanding on organ transplantation.

To be fair, unless you have been personally involved in the decision-making process for transplant candidacy, there is little opportunity to be educated. I explain to my anxious patients and their families that a donor organ is like a fumbled football. There may be well over 100 patients at all levels of transplant status in many geographic locations diving for that same organ.

The transplant team is tasked with finding the best match, determining who is the sickest, assessing time for transport of that organ, and, above all, who will be the best steward of that organ.

Take heart transplantation, for instance. Approximately 3,500 patients in the United States are awaiting one each year. Instead of facing an almost certain death within 5 years, a transplant recipient has a chance at a median survival of 12-13 years. The cost of a heart transplant is approximately $1.38 million, according to Milliman, a consulting firm. This is “an incredibly resource intensive procedure,” including expenditures for transportation, antirejection medication, office visits, physician fees, ICU stays, rejection surveillance, and acute rejection therapies.
 

Transplant denial is nothing new

People get turned down for organ transplants all the time. My patient with end-stage dilated cardiomyopathy was denied a heart transplant when it was discovered that he had scores of outstanding parking tickets. This was seen as a surrogate for an inability to afford his antirejection medication.

Another patient swore that her positive cotinine levels were caused by endless hours at the bingo hall where second-hand smoke swirled. She was also denied. Many potential candidates who are in acute decline hold precariously to newfound sobriety. They are denied. A patient’s boyfriend told the transplant team that he couldn’t be relied upon to drive her to her appointments. She was denied.

Many people who engage in antisocial behaviors have no idea that these actions may result in the denial of an organ transplant should their future selves need one. These are hard lines, but everyone should agree that the odds of survival are heavily in favor of the consistently adherent.

We should take this opportunity to educate the public on how complicated obtaining an organ transplant can be. More than 6,000 people die each year waiting for an organ because of the supply-and-demand disparities in the transplantation arena. I’m willing to bet that many of the loudest protesters in favor of unvaccinated transplant recipients have not signed the organ donor box on the back of their driver’s license. This conversation is an opportunity to change that and remind people that organ donation may be their only opportunity to save a fellow human’s life.

Again, to quote Ted Lasso: “If you care about someone and you got a little love in your heart, there ain’t nothing you can’t get through together.” That philosophy should apply to the tasks of selecting the best organ donors as well as the best organ recipients.

And every organ should go to the one who will honor their donor and their donor’s family by taking the best care of that ultimate gift of life, including being vaccinated against COVID-19.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

I agree with most advice given by the affable TV character Ted Lasso. “Every choice is a chance,” he said. Pandemic-era physicians must now consider whether a politically motivated choice to decline COVID-19 vaccination should negatively affect the chance to receive an organ donation.

And in confronting these choices, we have a chance to educate the public on the complexities of the organ allocation process.

A well-informed patient’s personal choice should be honored, even if clinicians disagree, if it does not affect the well-being of others. For example, I once had a patient in acute leukemic crisis who declined blood products because she was a Jehovah’s Witness. She died. Her choice affected her longevity only.

Compare that decision with awarding an organ to an individual who has declined readily available protection of that organ. Weigh that choice against the fact that said protection is against an infectious disease that has killed over 5.5 million worldwide.
 

Some institutions stand strong, others hedge their bets

Admirably, Loyola University Health System understands that difference. They published a firm stand on transplant candidacy and COVID-19 vaccination status in the Journal of Heart and Lung Transplant. Daniel Dilling, MD, medical director of the lung transplantation program , and Mark Kuczewski, PhD, a professor of medical ethics at Loyola University Chicago, Maywood, Ill., wrote that: “We believe that requiring vaccination against COVID-19 should not be controversial when we focus strictly on established frameworks and practices surrounding eligibility for wait-listing to receive a solid organ transplant.”

The Cleveland Clinic apparently agrees. In October 2021, they denied a liver transplant to Michelle Vitullo of Ohio, whose daughter had been deemed “a perfect match.” Her daughter, also unvaccinated, stated: “Being denied for a nonmedical reason for someone’s beliefs that are different to yours, I mean that’s not how that should be.”

But vaccination status is a medical reason, given well-established data regarding increased mortality  among the immunosuppressed. Ms. Vitullo then said: “We are trying to get to UPMC [University of Pittsburgh Medical Center] as they don’t require a vaccination.”

The public information page on transplant candidacy from UPMC reads (my italics): It is recommended that all transplant candidates, transplant recipients, and their household members receive COVID-19 vaccination when the vaccine is available to them. It is preferred that transplant candidates are vaccinated more than 2 weeks before transplantation.

I reached out to UPMC for clarification and was told by email that “we do not have a policy regarding COVID-19 vaccination requirement for current transplant candidates.” Houston Methodist shares the same agnostic stance.

Compare these opinions with Brigham and Women’s Hospital, where the requirements are resolute: “Like most other transplant programs across the country, the COVID-19 vaccine is one of several vaccines and lifestyle behaviors that are required for patients awaiting solid organ transplant.”

They add that “transplant candidates must also receive the seasonal influenza and hepatitis B vaccines, follow other healthy behaviors, and demonstrate they can commit to taking the required medications following transplant.”

In January 2022, Brigham and Women’s Hospital declared 31-year-old D.J. Ferguson ineligible for a heart transplant because he declined to be vaccinated against COVID-19. According to the New York Post and ABC News, his physicians resorted to left ventricular assist device support. His mother, Tracy Ferguson, is quoted as saying: “He’s not an antivaxxer. He has all of his vaccines.” I’ll just leave that right there.

Unfortunately, Michelle Vitullo’s obituary was published in December 2021. Regardless of whether she received her liver transplant, the outcome is tragic, and whatever you think of this family’s battle playing out in the glare of the national spotlight, their loss is no less devastating.

The directed-donation aspect of this case poses an interesting question. A news anchor asked the mother and daughter: “If you both accept the risks, why doesn’t the hospital just let you try?” The answers are obvious to us clinicians. Performing a transplantation in an unvaccinated patient could lead to their early death if they became infected because of their immunocompromised state, would open the door for transplantation of any patient who is unvaccinated for anything, including influenza and hepatitis B, which could result in the preventable waste of organs, and puts other vulnerable hospitalized patients at risk during the initial transplant stay and follow-up.

That’s not to mention the potential legal suit. Never has a consent form dissuaded any party from lodging an accusation of wrongful death or medical malpractice. In the face of strong data on higher mortality in unvaccinated, immunocompromised patients, a good lawyer could charge that the institution and transplant surgeons should have known better, regardless of the donor and recipient’s willingness to accept the risks.

The Vitullo and Ferguson cases are among many similar dilemmas surrounding transplant candidacy across the United States.

University of Virginia Health in Charlottesville denied 42-year-old Shamgar Connors a kidney transplant because he is unvaccinated, despite a previous COVID-19 infection. In October 2021, Leilani Lutali of Colorado was denied a kidney by UCHealth because she declined vaccination. 

AppleTV

As Ted Lasso says: “There’s a bunch of crazy stuff on Twitter.”

Predictably, social media is full of public outcry. “Some cold-hearted people on here” tweeted one. “What if it was one of your loved ones who needed a transplant?” Another tweeted the Hippocratic oath with the comment that “They all swore under this noble ‘oat’, but I guess it’s been forgotten.” (This was followed with a photo of a box of Quaker Oats in a failed attempt at humor.) These discussions among the Twitterati highlight the depths of misunderstanding on organ transplantation.

To be fair, unless you have been personally involved in the decision-making process for transplant candidacy, there is little opportunity to be educated. I explain to my anxious patients and their families that a donor organ is like a fumbled football. There may be well over 100 patients at all levels of transplant status in many geographic locations diving for that same organ.

The transplant team is tasked with finding the best match, determining who is the sickest, assessing time for transport of that organ, and, above all, who will be the best steward of that organ.

Take heart transplantation, for instance. Approximately 3,500 patients in the United States are awaiting one each year. Instead of facing an almost certain death within 5 years, a transplant recipient has a chance at a median survival of 12-13 years. The cost of a heart transplant is approximately $1.38 million, according to Milliman, a consulting firm. This is “an incredibly resource intensive procedure,” including expenditures for transportation, antirejection medication, office visits, physician fees, ICU stays, rejection surveillance, and acute rejection therapies.
 

Transplant denial is nothing new

People get turned down for organ transplants all the time. My patient with end-stage dilated cardiomyopathy was denied a heart transplant when it was discovered that he had scores of outstanding parking tickets. This was seen as a surrogate for an inability to afford his antirejection medication.

Another patient swore that her positive cotinine levels were caused by endless hours at the bingo hall where second-hand smoke swirled. She was also denied. Many potential candidates who are in acute decline hold precariously to newfound sobriety. They are denied. A patient’s boyfriend told the transplant team that he couldn’t be relied upon to drive her to her appointments. She was denied.

Many people who engage in antisocial behaviors have no idea that these actions may result in the denial of an organ transplant should their future selves need one. These are hard lines, but everyone should agree that the odds of survival are heavily in favor of the consistently adherent.

We should take this opportunity to educate the public on how complicated obtaining an organ transplant can be. More than 6,000 people die each year waiting for an organ because of the supply-and-demand disparities in the transplantation arena. I’m willing to bet that many of the loudest protesters in favor of unvaccinated transplant recipients have not signed the organ donor box on the back of their driver’s license. This conversation is an opportunity to change that and remind people that organ donation may be their only opportunity to save a fellow human’s life.

Again, to quote Ted Lasso: “If you care about someone and you got a little love in your heart, there ain’t nothing you can’t get through together.” That philosophy should apply to the tasks of selecting the best organ donors as well as the best organ recipients.

And every organ should go to the one who will honor their donor and their donor’s family by taking the best care of that ultimate gift of life, including being vaccinated against COVID-19.

Dr. Walton-Shirley is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The recent U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) draft statement on aspirin use is concerning: “The USPSTF concludes with moderate certainty that initiating aspirin use for the primary prevention of CVD events in adults age 60 years or older has no net benefit.” I take no issue with the data and appreciate the efforts of the researchers, but at a minimum the public statement is incomplete. At most, it’s dangerously poor messaging.

As physicians, we understand how best to apply this information, but most laypeople, some at significant cardiovascular risk, closed their medicine cabinets this morning and left their aspirin bottle unopened on the shelf. Some of these patients have never spent an hour in the hospital for cardiac-related issues, but they have mitigated their risk for myocardial infarction by purposely poisoning their platelets daily with 81 mg of aspirin. And they should continue to do so.
 

Don’t forget the calcium score

Take, for instance, my patient Jack, who is typical of many patients I’ve seen throughout the years. Jack is 68 years old and has never had a cardiac event or a gastrointestinal bleed. His daily routine includes a walk, a statin, and a baby aspirin because his CT coronary artery calcium (CAC) score was 10,000 at age 58.

He first visited me 10 years ago because his father died of a myocardial infarction in his late 50s. Jack’s left ventricular ejection fraction is normal and his stress ECG shows 1-mm ST-segment depression at 8 minutes on a Bruce protocol stress test, without angina. Because Jack is well-educated and keeps up with the latest cardiology recommendations, he is precisely the type of patient who may be harmed by this new USPSTF statement by stopping his aspirin.

In October 2020, an analysis from the DALLAS Heart Study showed that persons with a CAC score greater than 100 had a higher cumulative incidence of bleeding and of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (ASCVD) events compared with those with no coronary calcium. After adjustment for clinical risk factors, the association between CAC and bleeding was attenuated and no longer statistically significant, whereas the relationship between CAC and ASCVD remained.

I asked one of the investigators, Amit Khera, MD, MSc, from UT Southwestern Medical Center, about the latest recommendations. He emphasized that both the American College of Cardiology/American Heart Association prevention guidelines and the USPSTF statement say that aspirin could still be considered among patients who are at higher risk for cardiovascular events. The USPSTF delineated this as a 10-year ASCVD risk greater than 10%.

Dr. Khera, who was an author of the 2019 guidelines, explained that the guideline committee purposely did not make specific recommendations as to what demarcated higher risk because the data were not clear at that time. Since then, a couple of papers, including the Dallas Heart Study analysis published in JAMA Cardiology, showed that patients at low bleeding risk with a calcium score above 100 may get a net benefit from aspirin. “Thus, in my patients who have a high calcium score and low bleeding risk, I do discuss the option to start or continue aspirin,” he said.
 

One size does not fit all

I watched ABC World News Tonight on Tuesday, October 12, and was immediately troubled about the coverage of the USPSTF statement. With viewership for the “Big Three” networks in the millions, the message to discontinue aspirin may have unintended consequences for many at-risk patients. The blood-thinning effects of a single dose of aspirin last about 10 days; it will be interesting to see if the rates of myocardial infarction increase over time. This could have been avoided with a better-worded statement – I’m concerned that the lack of nuance could spell big trouble for some.

In JAMA Cardiology, Dr. Khera and colleagues wrote that, “Aspirin use is not a one-size-fits-all therapy.” All physicians likely agree with that opinion. The USPSTF statement should have included the point that if you have a high CT coronary artery calcium score and a low bleeding risk, aspirin still fits very well even if you haven’t experienced a cardiac event. At a minimum, the USPSTF statement should have included the suggestion for patients to consult their physician for advice before discontinuing aspirin therapy.

I hope patients like Jack get the right message.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology.

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

The recent U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) draft statement on aspirin use is concerning: “The USPSTF concludes with moderate certainty that initiating aspirin use for the primary prevention of CVD events in adults age 60 years or older has no net benefit.” I take no issue with the data and appreciate the efforts of the researchers, but at a minimum the public statement is incomplete. At most, it’s dangerously poor messaging.

As physicians, we understand how best to apply this information, but most laypeople, some at significant cardiovascular risk, closed their medicine cabinets this morning and left their aspirin bottle unopened on the shelf. Some of these patients have never spent an hour in the hospital for cardiac-related issues, but they have mitigated their risk for myocardial infarction by purposely poisoning their platelets daily with 81 mg of aspirin. And they should continue to do so.
 

Don’t forget the calcium score

Take, for instance, my patient Jack, who is typical of many patients I’ve seen throughout the years. Jack is 68 years old and has never had a cardiac event or a gastrointestinal bleed. His daily routine includes a walk, a statin, and a baby aspirin because his CT coronary artery calcium (CAC) score was 10,000 at age 58.

He first visited me 10 years ago because his father died of a myocardial infarction in his late 50s. Jack’s left ventricular ejection fraction is normal and his stress ECG shows 1-mm ST-segment depression at 8 minutes on a Bruce protocol stress test, without angina. Because Jack is well-educated and keeps up with the latest cardiology recommendations, he is precisely the type of patient who may be harmed by this new USPSTF statement by stopping his aspirin.

In October 2020, an analysis from the DALLAS Heart Study showed that persons with a CAC score greater than 100 had a higher cumulative incidence of bleeding and of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (ASCVD) events compared with those with no coronary calcium. After adjustment for clinical risk factors, the association between CAC and bleeding was attenuated and no longer statistically significant, whereas the relationship between CAC and ASCVD remained.

I asked one of the investigators, Amit Khera, MD, MSc, from UT Southwestern Medical Center, about the latest recommendations. He emphasized that both the American College of Cardiology/American Heart Association prevention guidelines and the USPSTF statement say that aspirin could still be considered among patients who are at higher risk for cardiovascular events. The USPSTF delineated this as a 10-year ASCVD risk greater than 10%.

Dr. Khera, who was an author of the 2019 guidelines, explained that the guideline committee purposely did not make specific recommendations as to what demarcated higher risk because the data were not clear at that time. Since then, a couple of papers, including the Dallas Heart Study analysis published in JAMA Cardiology, showed that patients at low bleeding risk with a calcium score above 100 may get a net benefit from aspirin. “Thus, in my patients who have a high calcium score and low bleeding risk, I do discuss the option to start or continue aspirin,” he said.
 

One size does not fit all

I watched ABC World News Tonight on Tuesday, October 12, and was immediately troubled about the coverage of the USPSTF statement. With viewership for the “Big Three” networks in the millions, the message to discontinue aspirin may have unintended consequences for many at-risk patients. The blood-thinning effects of a single dose of aspirin last about 10 days; it will be interesting to see if the rates of myocardial infarction increase over time. This could have been avoided with a better-worded statement – I’m concerned that the lack of nuance could spell big trouble for some.

In JAMA Cardiology, Dr. Khera and colleagues wrote that, “Aspirin use is not a one-size-fits-all therapy.” All physicians likely agree with that opinion. The USPSTF statement should have included the point that if you have a high CT coronary artery calcium score and a low bleeding risk, aspirin still fits very well even if you haven’t experienced a cardiac event. At a minimum, the USPSTF statement should have included the suggestion for patients to consult their physician for advice before discontinuing aspirin therapy.

I hope patients like Jack get the right message.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology.

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

The recent U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) draft statement on aspirin use is concerning: “The USPSTF concludes with moderate certainty that initiating aspirin use for the primary prevention of CVD events in adults age 60 years or older has no net benefit.” I take no issue with the data and appreciate the efforts of the researchers, but at a minimum the public statement is incomplete. At most, it’s dangerously poor messaging.

As physicians, we understand how best to apply this information, but most laypeople, some at significant cardiovascular risk, closed their medicine cabinets this morning and left their aspirin bottle unopened on the shelf. Some of these patients have never spent an hour in the hospital for cardiac-related issues, but they have mitigated their risk for myocardial infarction by purposely poisoning their platelets daily with 81 mg of aspirin. And they should continue to do so.
 

Don’t forget the calcium score

Take, for instance, my patient Jack, who is typical of many patients I’ve seen throughout the years. Jack is 68 years old and has never had a cardiac event or a gastrointestinal bleed. His daily routine includes a walk, a statin, and a baby aspirin because his CT coronary artery calcium (CAC) score was 10,000 at age 58.

He first visited me 10 years ago because his father died of a myocardial infarction in his late 50s. Jack’s left ventricular ejection fraction is normal and his stress ECG shows 1-mm ST-segment depression at 8 minutes on a Bruce protocol stress test, without angina. Because Jack is well-educated and keeps up with the latest cardiology recommendations, he is precisely the type of patient who may be harmed by this new USPSTF statement by stopping his aspirin.

In October 2020, an analysis from the DALLAS Heart Study showed that persons with a CAC score greater than 100 had a higher cumulative incidence of bleeding and of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (ASCVD) events compared with those with no coronary calcium. After adjustment for clinical risk factors, the association between CAC and bleeding was attenuated and no longer statistically significant, whereas the relationship between CAC and ASCVD remained.

I asked one of the investigators, Amit Khera, MD, MSc, from UT Southwestern Medical Center, about the latest recommendations. He emphasized that both the American College of Cardiology/American Heart Association prevention guidelines and the USPSTF statement say that aspirin could still be considered among patients who are at higher risk for cardiovascular events. The USPSTF delineated this as a 10-year ASCVD risk greater than 10%.

Dr. Khera, who was an author of the 2019 guidelines, explained that the guideline committee purposely did not make specific recommendations as to what demarcated higher risk because the data were not clear at that time. Since then, a couple of papers, including the Dallas Heart Study analysis published in JAMA Cardiology, showed that patients at low bleeding risk with a calcium score above 100 may get a net benefit from aspirin. “Thus, in my patients who have a high calcium score and low bleeding risk, I do discuss the option to start or continue aspirin,” he said.
 

One size does not fit all

I watched ABC World News Tonight on Tuesday, October 12, and was immediately troubled about the coverage of the USPSTF statement. With viewership for the “Big Three” networks in the millions, the message to discontinue aspirin may have unintended consequences for many at-risk patients. The blood-thinning effects of a single dose of aspirin last about 10 days; it will be interesting to see if the rates of myocardial infarction increase over time. This could have been avoided with a better-worded statement – I’m concerned that the lack of nuance could spell big trouble for some.

In JAMA Cardiology, Dr. Khera and colleagues wrote that, “Aspirin use is not a one-size-fits-all therapy.” All physicians likely agree with that opinion. The USPSTF statement should have included the point that if you have a high CT coronary artery calcium score and a low bleeding risk, aspirin still fits very well even if you haven’t experienced a cardiac event. At a minimum, the USPSTF statement should have included the suggestion for patients to consult their physician for advice before discontinuing aspirin therapy.

I hope patients like Jack get the right message.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology.

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

What happened to Hasan Gokal, MD, should stick painfully in the craws of all physicians. It should serve as a call to action, because Dr. Gokal is sitting at home today without a job and under threat of further legal action while we continue about our day.

Dr. Gokal’s “crime” is that he vaccinated 10 strangers and acquaintances with soon-to-expire doses of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. He drove to the homes of some in the dark of night and injected others on his Sugar Land, Texas, lawn. He spent hours in a frantic search for willing recipients to beat the expiration clock. With minutes to spare, he gave the last dose to his at-risk wife, who has symptomatic pulmonary sarcoidosis, but whose age meant she did not fall into a vaccine priority tier.

According to the New York Times, Dr. Gokal’s wife was hesitant, afraid he might get into trouble. But why would she be hesitant? He wasn’t doing anything immoral. Perhaps she knew how far physicians have fallen and how bitterly they both could suffer.

In Barren County, Ky., where I live, a state of emergency was declared by our judge executive because of inclement weather. This directive allows our emergency management to “waive procedures and formalities otherwise required by the law.” It’s too bad that the same courtesy was not afforded to Dr. Gokal in Texas. It’s a shame that ice and snow didn’t drive his actions. Perhaps that would have protected him against the harsh criticism. Rather, it was his oath to patients and dedication to his fellow humans that motivated him, and for that, he was made to suffer.

Dr. Gokal was right to think that pouring the last 10 vaccine doses down the toilet would be an egregious act. But he was wrong in thinking his decision to find takers for the vaccine would be viewed as expedient. Instead, he was accused of graft and even nepotism. And there is the rub. That he was fired and charged with the theft of $137 worth of vaccines says everything about how physicians are treated in the year 2021. Dr. Gokal’s lawyer says the charge carried a maximum penalty of 1 year in prison and a fine of nearly $4,000.

Thank God a sage judge threw out the case and “rebuked” the office of District Attorney Kim Ogg. That hasn’t stopped her from threatening to bring the case to a grand jury. That threat invites anyone faced with the same scenario to flush the extra vaccine doses into the septic system. It encourages us to choose the toilet handle to avoid a mug shot.

And we can’t ignore the racial slant to this story. The Times reported that Dr. Gokal asked the officials, “Are you suggesting that there were too many Indian names in this group?”

“Exactly” was the answer. Let that sink in.

None of this would have happened 20 years ago. Back then, no one would have questioned the wisdom a physician gains from all our years of training and residency. In an age when anyone who conducts an office visit is now called “doctor,” respect for the letters “MD” has been leveled. We physicians have lost our autonomy and been cowed into submission.

But whatever his profession, Hasan Gokal was fired for being a good human. Today, the sun rose on 10 individuals who now enjoy better protection against a deadly pandemic. They include a bed-bound nonagenarian. A woman in her 80s with dementia. A mother with a child who uses a ventilator. All now have antibodies against SARS-CoV2 because of the tireless actions of Dr. Gokal.

Yet Dr. Gokal’s future is uncertain. Will we help him, or will we leave him to the wolves? In an email exchange with his lawyer’s office, I learned that Dr. Gokal has received offers of employment but is unable to entertain them because the actions by the Harris County District Attorney triggered an automatic review by the Texas Medical Board. A GoFundMe page was launched, but an appreciative Dr. Gokal stated publicly that he’d rather the money go to a needy charity.

 In the last paragraph of the Times article, Dr. Gokal asks, “How can I take it back?” referencing stories about “the Pakistani doctor in Houston who stole all those vaccines.”

Let’s help him take back his story. In helping him, perhaps we can take back a little control. We could start with letters of support that could be mailed to his lawyer, Paul Doyle, Esq., of Houston, or tweet, respectfully of course, to the district attorney @Kimoggforda.

We can also let the Harris County Public Health Department in Houston know what we think of their actions.

On Martin Luther King Day, Kim Ogg, the district attorney who charged Dr. Gokal, tweeted MLK’s famous quote: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Let that motivate us to action.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. In addition to opinion writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters and parents, and sidelines as a backing vocalist for local rock bands. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

What happened to Hasan Gokal, MD, should stick painfully in the craws of all physicians. It should serve as a call to action, because Dr. Gokal is sitting at home today without a job and under threat of further legal action while we continue about our day.

Dr. Gokal’s “crime” is that he vaccinated 10 strangers and acquaintances with soon-to-expire doses of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. He drove to the homes of some in the dark of night and injected others on his Sugar Land, Texas, lawn. He spent hours in a frantic search for willing recipients to beat the expiration clock. With minutes to spare, he gave the last dose to his at-risk wife, who has symptomatic pulmonary sarcoidosis, but whose age meant she did not fall into a vaccine priority tier.

According to the New York Times, Dr. Gokal’s wife was hesitant, afraid he might get into trouble. But why would she be hesitant? He wasn’t doing anything immoral. Perhaps she knew how far physicians have fallen and how bitterly they both could suffer.

In Barren County, Ky., where I live, a state of emergency was declared by our judge executive because of inclement weather. This directive allows our emergency management to “waive procedures and formalities otherwise required by the law.” It’s too bad that the same courtesy was not afforded to Dr. Gokal in Texas. It’s a shame that ice and snow didn’t drive his actions. Perhaps that would have protected him against the harsh criticism. Rather, it was his oath to patients and dedication to his fellow humans that motivated him, and for that, he was made to suffer.

Dr. Gokal was right to think that pouring the last 10 vaccine doses down the toilet would be an egregious act. But he was wrong in thinking his decision to find takers for the vaccine would be viewed as expedient. Instead, he was accused of graft and even nepotism. And there is the rub. That he was fired and charged with the theft of $137 worth of vaccines says everything about how physicians are treated in the year 2021. Dr. Gokal’s lawyer says the charge carried a maximum penalty of 1 year in prison and a fine of nearly $4,000.

Thank God a sage judge threw out the case and “rebuked” the office of District Attorney Kim Ogg. That hasn’t stopped her from threatening to bring the case to a grand jury. That threat invites anyone faced with the same scenario to flush the extra vaccine doses into the septic system. It encourages us to choose the toilet handle to avoid a mug shot.

And we can’t ignore the racial slant to this story. The Times reported that Dr. Gokal asked the officials, “Are you suggesting that there were too many Indian names in this group?”

“Exactly” was the answer. Let that sink in.

None of this would have happened 20 years ago. Back then, no one would have questioned the wisdom a physician gains from all our years of training and residency. In an age when anyone who conducts an office visit is now called “doctor,” respect for the letters “MD” has been leveled. We physicians have lost our autonomy and been cowed into submission.

But whatever his profession, Hasan Gokal was fired for being a good human. Today, the sun rose on 10 individuals who now enjoy better protection against a deadly pandemic. They include a bed-bound nonagenarian. A woman in her 80s with dementia. A mother with a child who uses a ventilator. All now have antibodies against SARS-CoV2 because of the tireless actions of Dr. Gokal.

Yet Dr. Gokal’s future is uncertain. Will we help him, or will we leave him to the wolves? In an email exchange with his lawyer’s office, I learned that Dr. Gokal has received offers of employment but is unable to entertain them because the actions by the Harris County District Attorney triggered an automatic review by the Texas Medical Board. A GoFundMe page was launched, but an appreciative Dr. Gokal stated publicly that he’d rather the money go to a needy charity.

 In the last paragraph of the Times article, Dr. Gokal asks, “How can I take it back?” referencing stories about “the Pakistani doctor in Houston who stole all those vaccines.”

Let’s help him take back his story. In helping him, perhaps we can take back a little control. We could start with letters of support that could be mailed to his lawyer, Paul Doyle, Esq., of Houston, or tweet, respectfully of course, to the district attorney @Kimoggforda.

We can also let the Harris County Public Health Department in Houston know what we think of their actions.

On Martin Luther King Day, Kim Ogg, the district attorney who charged Dr. Gokal, tweeted MLK’s famous quote: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Let that motivate us to action.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. In addition to opinion writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters and parents, and sidelines as a backing vocalist for local rock bands. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

What happened to Hasan Gokal, MD, should stick painfully in the craws of all physicians. It should serve as a call to action, because Dr. Gokal is sitting at home today without a job and under threat of further legal action while we continue about our day.

Dr. Gokal’s “crime” is that he vaccinated 10 strangers and acquaintances with soon-to-expire doses of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. He drove to the homes of some in the dark of night and injected others on his Sugar Land, Texas, lawn. He spent hours in a frantic search for willing recipients to beat the expiration clock. With minutes to spare, he gave the last dose to his at-risk wife, who has symptomatic pulmonary sarcoidosis, but whose age meant she did not fall into a vaccine priority tier.

According to the New York Times, Dr. Gokal’s wife was hesitant, afraid he might get into trouble. But why would she be hesitant? He wasn’t doing anything immoral. Perhaps she knew how far physicians have fallen and how bitterly they both could suffer.

In Barren County, Ky., where I live, a state of emergency was declared by our judge executive because of inclement weather. This directive allows our emergency management to “waive procedures and formalities otherwise required by the law.” It’s too bad that the same courtesy was not afforded to Dr. Gokal in Texas. It’s a shame that ice and snow didn’t drive his actions. Perhaps that would have protected him against the harsh criticism. Rather, it was his oath to patients and dedication to his fellow humans that motivated him, and for that, he was made to suffer.

Dr. Gokal was right to think that pouring the last 10 vaccine doses down the toilet would be an egregious act. But he was wrong in thinking his decision to find takers for the vaccine would be viewed as expedient. Instead, he was accused of graft and even nepotism. And there is the rub. That he was fired and charged with the theft of $137 worth of vaccines says everything about how physicians are treated in the year 2021. Dr. Gokal’s lawyer says the charge carried a maximum penalty of 1 year in prison and a fine of nearly $4,000.

Thank God a sage judge threw out the case and “rebuked” the office of District Attorney Kim Ogg. That hasn’t stopped her from threatening to bring the case to a grand jury. That threat invites anyone faced with the same scenario to flush the extra vaccine doses into the septic system. It encourages us to choose the toilet handle to avoid a mug shot.

And we can’t ignore the racial slant to this story. The Times reported that Dr. Gokal asked the officials, “Are you suggesting that there were too many Indian names in this group?”

“Exactly” was the answer. Let that sink in.

None of this would have happened 20 years ago. Back then, no one would have questioned the wisdom a physician gains from all our years of training and residency. In an age when anyone who conducts an office visit is now called “doctor,” respect for the letters “MD” has been leveled. We physicians have lost our autonomy and been cowed into submission.

But whatever his profession, Hasan Gokal was fired for being a good human. Today, the sun rose on 10 individuals who now enjoy better protection against a deadly pandemic. They include a bed-bound nonagenarian. A woman in her 80s with dementia. A mother with a child who uses a ventilator. All now have antibodies against SARS-CoV2 because of the tireless actions of Dr. Gokal.

Yet Dr. Gokal’s future is uncertain. Will we help him, or will we leave him to the wolves? In an email exchange with his lawyer’s office, I learned that Dr. Gokal has received offers of employment but is unable to entertain them because the actions by the Harris County District Attorney triggered an automatic review by the Texas Medical Board. A GoFundMe page was launched, but an appreciative Dr. Gokal stated publicly that he’d rather the money go to a needy charity.

 In the last paragraph of the Times article, Dr. Gokal asks, “How can I take it back?” referencing stories about “the Pakistani doctor in Houston who stole all those vaccines.”

Let’s help him take back his story. In helping him, perhaps we can take back a little control. We could start with letters of support that could be mailed to his lawyer, Paul Doyle, Esq., of Houston, or tweet, respectfully of course, to the district attorney @Kimoggforda.

We can also let the Harris County Public Health Department in Houston know what we think of their actions.

On Martin Luther King Day, Kim Ogg, the district attorney who charged Dr. Gokal, tweeted MLK’s famous quote: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Let that motivate us to action.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a native Kentuckian who retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She enjoys locums work in Montana and is a champion of physician rights and patient safety. In addition to opinion writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters and parents, and sidelines as a backing vocalist for local rock bands. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.