Federal Practitioner

Thiazolidinediones (TZDs), such as pioglitazone, appear to be protective against dementia whereas sulfonylureas appear to increase the risk, a new observational study in patients with type 2 diabetes suggests.

The data, obtained from nationwide electronic medical records from the Department of Veterans Affairs, yielded a 22% lower risk of dementia with TZD monotherapy and a 12% elevated risk with sulfonylurea monotherapy, compared with metformin monotherapy. The apparent protective effects of TZDs were greater among individuals with overweight or obesity.

“Our findings provide additional information to aid clinicians’ selection of [glucose-lowering medications] for patients with mild or moderate type 2 diabetes and [who] are at high risk of dementia,” Xin Tang and colleagues wrote in their article, published online in BMJ Open Diabetes Research & Care.

The results “add substantially to the literature concerning the effects of [glucose-lowering medications] on dementia where previous findings have been inconsistent. Studies with a follow-up time of less than 3 years have mainly reported null associations, while studies with longer a follow-up time typically yielded protective findings. With a mean follow-up time of 6.8 years, we had a sufficient duration to detect treatment differences,” the investigators wrote.

“Supplementing [a] sulfonylurea with either metformin or [a] TZD may partially offset its prodementia effects. These findings may help inform medication selection for elderly patients with T2D at high risk of dementia,” they added.
 

Randomized trials needed to determine cause and effect

Ivan Koychev, PhD, a senior clinical researcher in the department of psychiatry at the University of Oxford (England), told the UK Science Media Centre: “This is a large, well-conducted real-world data study that highlights the importance of checking whether already prescribed medications may be useful for preventing dementia.”

The findings regarding TZDs, also known as glitazones, are in line with existing literature suggesting dementia protection with other drugs prescribed for type 2 diabetes that weren’t examined in the current study, such as newer agents like glucagonlike peptide–1 (GLP-1) agonists and sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors, Dr. Koychev said.

“The main limitations of this study is that following the initial 2-year period the authors were interested in, the participants may have been prescribed one of the other type 2 diabetes drugs [GLP-1 agonists or SGLT2 inhibitors] that have been found to reduce dementia risk, thus potentially making the direct glitazone [TZD] effect more difficult to discern,” Dr. Koychev noted.

And, he pointed out that the study design limits attribution of causality. “It is also important to note that people with type 2 diabetes do run a higher risk of both dementia and cognitive deficits and that these medications are only prescribed in these patients, so all this data is from this patient group rather than the general population.”

James Connell, PhD, head of translational science at Alzheimer’s Research UK, agreed. “While this observational study found that those with type 2 diabetes taking thiazolidinedione had a lower dementia risk than those on the most common medication for type 2 diabetes, it only shows an association between taking the drug and dementia risk and not a causal relationship.

“Double-blind and placebo-controlled clinical trials are needed to see whether the drug [TDZ] could help lower dementia risk in people with and without diabetes. Anyone with any questions about what treatments they are receiving should speak to their doctor,” he told the UK Science Media Centre.
 

Opposite effects of sulfonylureas, TZDs versus metformin

The study authors analyzed 559,106 VA patients with type 2 diabetes who initiated glucose-lowering medication during 2001-2017 and took it for at least a year. They were aged 60 years or older and did not have dementia at baseline. Most were White (76.8%) and male (96.9%), two-thirds (63.1%) had obesity, and mean hemoglobin A1c was 6.8%.

Overall, 31,125 developed all-cause dementia. The incidence rate was 8.2 cases per 1,000 person-years, ranging from 6.2 cases per 1,000 person-years among those taking metformin monotherapy to 13.4 cases per 1,000 person-years in those taking both sulfonylurea and a TZD.

Compared with metformin monotherapy, the hazard ratio for all-cause dementia for sulfonylurea monotherapy was a significant 1.12. The increased risk was also seen for vascular dementia, with an HR of 1.14.

In contrast, TZD monotherapy was associated with a significantly lower risk for all-cause dementia (HR, 0.78), as well as for Alzheimer’s disease (HR, 0.89) and vascular dementia (HR, 0.43), compared with metformin monotherapy.

The combination of metformin and TZD also lowered the risk of all-cause dementia, while regimens including sulfonylureas raised the risks for all-cause and vascular dementia.

Most of the results didn’t change significantly when the drug exposure window was extended to 2 years.
 

Effects more pronounced in those with obesity

The protective 1-year effects of TZD monotherapy and of metformin plus TZD, compared with metformin alone, were more significant among participants aged 75 or younger and with a body mass index above 25 kg/m², compared with those who were older than 75 years and with normal BMIs, respectively.

On the other hand, the greater risk for dementia incurred with sulfonylureas was further increased among those with higher BMI.

This research was partially funded by grants from the National Human Genome Research Institute, the National Science Foundation, the National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Disease, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. Dr. Koychev is chief investigator for a trial, sponsored by Oxford University and funded by Novo Nordisk, testing whether the GLP-1 agonist semaglutide reduces the risk for dementia in aging adults.

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

Thiazolidinediones (TZDs), such as pioglitazone, appear to be protective against dementia whereas sulfonylureas appear to increase the risk, a new observational study in patients with type 2 diabetes suggests.

The data, obtained from nationwide electronic medical records from the Department of Veterans Affairs, yielded a 22% lower risk of dementia with TZD monotherapy and a 12% elevated risk with sulfonylurea monotherapy, compared with metformin monotherapy. The apparent protective effects of TZDs were greater among individuals with overweight or obesity.

“Our findings provide additional information to aid clinicians’ selection of [glucose-lowering medications] for patients with mild or moderate type 2 diabetes and [who] are at high risk of dementia,” Xin Tang and colleagues wrote in their article, published online in BMJ Open Diabetes Research & Care.

The results “add substantially to the literature concerning the effects of [glucose-lowering medications] on dementia where previous findings have been inconsistent. Studies with a follow-up time of less than 3 years have mainly reported null associations, while studies with longer a follow-up time typically yielded protective findings. With a mean follow-up time of 6.8 years, we had a sufficient duration to detect treatment differences,” the investigators wrote.

“Supplementing [a] sulfonylurea with either metformin or [a] TZD may partially offset its prodementia effects. These findings may help inform medication selection for elderly patients with T2D at high risk of dementia,” they added.
 

Randomized trials needed to determine cause and effect

Ivan Koychev, PhD, a senior clinical researcher in the department of psychiatry at the University of Oxford (England), told the UK Science Media Centre: “This is a large, well-conducted real-world data study that highlights the importance of checking whether already prescribed medications may be useful for preventing dementia.”

The findings regarding TZDs, also known as glitazones, are in line with existing literature suggesting dementia protection with other drugs prescribed for type 2 diabetes that weren’t examined in the current study, such as newer agents like glucagonlike peptide–1 (GLP-1) agonists and sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors, Dr. Koychev said.

“The main limitations of this study is that following the initial 2-year period the authors were interested in, the participants may have been prescribed one of the other type 2 diabetes drugs [GLP-1 agonists or SGLT2 inhibitors] that have been found to reduce dementia risk, thus potentially making the direct glitazone [TZD] effect more difficult to discern,” Dr. Koychev noted.

And, he pointed out that the study design limits attribution of causality. “It is also important to note that people with type 2 diabetes do run a higher risk of both dementia and cognitive deficits and that these medications are only prescribed in these patients, so all this data is from this patient group rather than the general population.”

James Connell, PhD, head of translational science at Alzheimer’s Research UK, agreed. “While this observational study found that those with type 2 diabetes taking thiazolidinedione had a lower dementia risk than those on the most common medication for type 2 diabetes, it only shows an association between taking the drug and dementia risk and not a causal relationship.

“Double-blind and placebo-controlled clinical trials are needed to see whether the drug [TDZ] could help lower dementia risk in people with and without diabetes. Anyone with any questions about what treatments they are receiving should speak to their doctor,” he told the UK Science Media Centre.
 

Opposite effects of sulfonylureas, TZDs versus metformin

The study authors analyzed 559,106 VA patients with type 2 diabetes who initiated glucose-lowering medication during 2001-2017 and took it for at least a year. They were aged 60 years or older and did not have dementia at baseline. Most were White (76.8%) and male (96.9%), two-thirds (63.1%) had obesity, and mean hemoglobin A1c was 6.8%.

Overall, 31,125 developed all-cause dementia. The incidence rate was 8.2 cases per 1,000 person-years, ranging from 6.2 cases per 1,000 person-years among those taking metformin monotherapy to 13.4 cases per 1,000 person-years in those taking both sulfonylurea and a TZD.

Compared with metformin monotherapy, the hazard ratio for all-cause dementia for sulfonylurea monotherapy was a significant 1.12. The increased risk was also seen for vascular dementia, with an HR of 1.14.

In contrast, TZD monotherapy was associated with a significantly lower risk for all-cause dementia (HR, 0.78), as well as for Alzheimer’s disease (HR, 0.89) and vascular dementia (HR, 0.43), compared with metformin monotherapy.

The combination of metformin and TZD also lowered the risk of all-cause dementia, while regimens including sulfonylureas raised the risks for all-cause and vascular dementia.

Most of the results didn’t change significantly when the drug exposure window was extended to 2 years.
 

Effects more pronounced in those with obesity

The protective 1-year effects of TZD monotherapy and of metformin plus TZD, compared with metformin alone, were more significant among participants aged 75 or younger and with a body mass index above 25 kg/m², compared with those who were older than 75 years and with normal BMIs, respectively.

On the other hand, the greater risk for dementia incurred with sulfonylureas was further increased among those with higher BMI.

This research was partially funded by grants from the National Human Genome Research Institute, the National Science Foundation, the National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Disease, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. Dr. Koychev is chief investigator for a trial, sponsored by Oxford University and funded by Novo Nordisk, testing whether the GLP-1 agonist semaglutide reduces the risk for dementia in aging adults.

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

Thiazolidinediones (TZDs), such as pioglitazone, appear to be protective against dementia whereas sulfonylureas appear to increase the risk, a new observational study in patients with type 2 diabetes suggests.

The data, obtained from nationwide electronic medical records from the Department of Veterans Affairs, yielded a 22% lower risk of dementia with TZD monotherapy and a 12% elevated risk with sulfonylurea monotherapy, compared with metformin monotherapy. The apparent protective effects of TZDs were greater among individuals with overweight or obesity.

“Our findings provide additional information to aid clinicians’ selection of [glucose-lowering medications] for patients with mild or moderate type 2 diabetes and [who] are at high risk of dementia,” Xin Tang and colleagues wrote in their article, published online in BMJ Open Diabetes Research & Care.

The results “add substantially to the literature concerning the effects of [glucose-lowering medications] on dementia where previous findings have been inconsistent. Studies with a follow-up time of less than 3 years have mainly reported null associations, while studies with longer a follow-up time typically yielded protective findings. With a mean follow-up time of 6.8 years, we had a sufficient duration to detect treatment differences,” the investigators wrote.

“Supplementing [a] sulfonylurea with either metformin or [a] TZD may partially offset its prodementia effects. These findings may help inform medication selection for elderly patients with T2D at high risk of dementia,” they added.
 

Randomized trials needed to determine cause and effect

Ivan Koychev, PhD, a senior clinical researcher in the department of psychiatry at the University of Oxford (England), told the UK Science Media Centre: “This is a large, well-conducted real-world data study that highlights the importance of checking whether already prescribed medications may be useful for preventing dementia.”

The findings regarding TZDs, also known as glitazones, are in line with existing literature suggesting dementia protection with other drugs prescribed for type 2 diabetes that weren’t examined in the current study, such as newer agents like glucagonlike peptide–1 (GLP-1) agonists and sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors, Dr. Koychev said.

“The main limitations of this study is that following the initial 2-year period the authors were interested in, the participants may have been prescribed one of the other type 2 diabetes drugs [GLP-1 agonists or SGLT2 inhibitors] that have been found to reduce dementia risk, thus potentially making the direct glitazone [TZD] effect more difficult to discern,” Dr. Koychev noted.

And, he pointed out that the study design limits attribution of causality. “It is also important to note that people with type 2 diabetes do run a higher risk of both dementia and cognitive deficits and that these medications are only prescribed in these patients, so all this data is from this patient group rather than the general population.”

James Connell, PhD, head of translational science at Alzheimer’s Research UK, agreed. “While this observational study found that those with type 2 diabetes taking thiazolidinedione had a lower dementia risk than those on the most common medication for type 2 diabetes, it only shows an association between taking the drug and dementia risk and not a causal relationship.

“Double-blind and placebo-controlled clinical trials are needed to see whether the drug [TDZ] could help lower dementia risk in people with and without diabetes. Anyone with any questions about what treatments they are receiving should speak to their doctor,” he told the UK Science Media Centre.
 

Opposite effects of sulfonylureas, TZDs versus metformin

The study authors analyzed 559,106 VA patients with type 2 diabetes who initiated glucose-lowering medication during 2001-2017 and took it for at least a year. They were aged 60 years or older and did not have dementia at baseline. Most were White (76.8%) and male (96.9%), two-thirds (63.1%) had obesity, and mean hemoglobin A1c was 6.8%.

Overall, 31,125 developed all-cause dementia. The incidence rate was 8.2 cases per 1,000 person-years, ranging from 6.2 cases per 1,000 person-years among those taking metformin monotherapy to 13.4 cases per 1,000 person-years in those taking both sulfonylurea and a TZD.

Compared with metformin monotherapy, the hazard ratio for all-cause dementia for sulfonylurea monotherapy was a significant 1.12. The increased risk was also seen for vascular dementia, with an HR of 1.14.

In contrast, TZD monotherapy was associated with a significantly lower risk for all-cause dementia (HR, 0.78), as well as for Alzheimer’s disease (HR, 0.89) and vascular dementia (HR, 0.43), compared with metformin monotherapy.

The combination of metformin and TZD also lowered the risk of all-cause dementia, while regimens including sulfonylureas raised the risks for all-cause and vascular dementia.

Most of the results didn’t change significantly when the drug exposure window was extended to 2 years.
 

Effects more pronounced in those with obesity

The protective 1-year effects of TZD monotherapy and of metformin plus TZD, compared with metformin alone, were more significant among participants aged 75 or younger and with a body mass index above 25 kg/m², compared with those who were older than 75 years and with normal BMIs, respectively.

On the other hand, the greater risk for dementia incurred with sulfonylureas was further increased among those with higher BMI.

This research was partially funded by grants from the National Human Genome Research Institute, the National Science Foundation, the National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Disease, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. Dr. Koychev is chief investigator for a trial, sponsored by Oxford University and funded by Novo Nordisk, testing whether the GLP-1 agonist semaglutide reduces the risk for dementia in aging adults.

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

The American College of Cardiology has released an Expert Consensus Decision Pathway on the evaluation and disposition of acute chest pain in the emergency department.

Chest pain accounts for more than 7 million ED visits annually. A major challenge is to quickly identify the small number of patients with acute coronary syndrome (ACS) among the large number of patients who have noncardiac conditions.

The new document is intended to provide guidance on how to “practically apply” recommendations from the 2021 American Heart Association/American College of Cardiology Guideline for the Evaluation and Diagnosis of Chest Pain, focusing specifically on patients who present to the ED, the writing group explains.

“A systematic approach – both at the level of the institution and the individual patient – is essential to achieve optimal outcomes for patients presenting with chest pain to the ED,” say writing group chair Michael Kontos, MD, Virginia Commonwealth University, Richmond, and colleagues.

At the institution level, this decision pathway recommends high-sensitivity cardiac troponin (hs-cTn) assays coupled with a clinical decision pathway (CDP) to reduce ED “dwell” times and increase the number of patients with chest pain who can safely be discharged without additional testing. This will decrease ED crowding and limit unnecessary testing, they point out. 

At the individual patient level, this document aims to provide structure for the ED evaluation of chest pain, accelerating the evaluation process and matching the intensity of testing and treatment to patient risk.

The 36-page document was published online in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology.

Key summary points in the document include the following:

• Electrocardiogram remains the best initial test for evaluation of chest pain in the ED and should be performed and interpreted within 10 minutes of ED arrival.
• In patients who arrive via ambulance, the prehospital ECG should be reviewed, because ischemic changes may have resolved before ED arrival.
• When the ECG shows evidence of acute infarction or ischemia, subsequent care should follow current guidelines for management of acute ST-segment elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI) and non–ST-segment elevation ACS (NSTE-ACS).
• Patients with a nonischemic ECG can enter an accelerated CDP designed to provide rapid risk assessment and exclusion of ACS.
• Patients who are hemodynamically unstable, have significant arrhythmias, or evidence of significant heart failure should be evaluated and treated appropriately and are not candidates for an accelerated CDP.
• High-sensitivity cardiac troponin T (hs-cTnT) and high-sensitivity cardiac troponin I (hs-cTnI) are the preferred biomarkers for evaluation of possible ACS.
• Patients classified as low risk (rule out) using the current hs-cTn-based CDPs can generally be discharged directly from the ED without additional testing, although outpatient testing may be considered in selected cases.
• Patients with substantially elevated initial hs-cTn values or those with significant dynamic changes over 1-3 hours are assigned to the abnormal/high-risk category and should be further classified according to the universal definition of myocardial infarction type 1 or 2 or acute or chronic nonischemic cardiac injury.
• High-risk patients should usually be admitted to an inpatient setting for further evaluation and treatment.
• Patients determined to be intermediate risk with the CDP should undergo additional observation with repeat hs-cTn measurements at 3-6 hours and risk assessment using either the modified HEART (history, ECG, age, risk factors, and troponin) score or the ED assessment of chest pain score (EDACS).
• Noninvasive testing should be considered for the intermediate-risk group unless low-risk features are identified using risk scores or noninvasive testing has been performed recently with normal or low-risk findings.

The writing group notes that “safe and efficient” management of chest pain in the ED requires appropriate follow-up after discharge. Timing of follow-up and referral for outpatient noninvasive testing should be influenced by patient risk and results of cardiac testing.

Disclosures for members of the writing group are available with the original article.

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

The American College of Cardiology has released an Expert Consensus Decision Pathway on the evaluation and disposition of acute chest pain in the emergency department.

Chest pain accounts for more than 7 million ED visits annually. A major challenge is to quickly identify the small number of patients with acute coronary syndrome (ACS) among the large number of patients who have noncardiac conditions.

The new document is intended to provide guidance on how to “practically apply” recommendations from the 2021 American Heart Association/American College of Cardiology Guideline for the Evaluation and Diagnosis of Chest Pain, focusing specifically on patients who present to the ED, the writing group explains.

“A systematic approach – both at the level of the institution and the individual patient – is essential to achieve optimal outcomes for patients presenting with chest pain to the ED,” say writing group chair Michael Kontos, MD, Virginia Commonwealth University, Richmond, and colleagues.

At the institution level, this decision pathway recommends high-sensitivity cardiac troponin (hs-cTn) assays coupled with a clinical decision pathway (CDP) to reduce ED “dwell” times and increase the number of patients with chest pain who can safely be discharged without additional testing. This will decrease ED crowding and limit unnecessary testing, they point out. 

At the individual patient level, this document aims to provide structure for the ED evaluation of chest pain, accelerating the evaluation process and matching the intensity of testing and treatment to patient risk.

The 36-page document was published online in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology.

Key summary points in the document include the following:

• Electrocardiogram remains the best initial test for evaluation of chest pain in the ED and should be performed and interpreted within 10 minutes of ED arrival.
• In patients who arrive via ambulance, the prehospital ECG should be reviewed, because ischemic changes may have resolved before ED arrival.
• When the ECG shows evidence of acute infarction or ischemia, subsequent care should follow current guidelines for management of acute ST-segment elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI) and non–ST-segment elevation ACS (NSTE-ACS).
• Patients with a nonischemic ECG can enter an accelerated CDP designed to provide rapid risk assessment and exclusion of ACS.
• Patients who are hemodynamically unstable, have significant arrhythmias, or evidence of significant heart failure should be evaluated and treated appropriately and are not candidates for an accelerated CDP.
• High-sensitivity cardiac troponin T (hs-cTnT) and high-sensitivity cardiac troponin I (hs-cTnI) are the preferred biomarkers for evaluation of possible ACS.
• Patients classified as low risk (rule out) using the current hs-cTn-based CDPs can generally be discharged directly from the ED without additional testing, although outpatient testing may be considered in selected cases.
• Patients with substantially elevated initial hs-cTn values or those with significant dynamic changes over 1-3 hours are assigned to the abnormal/high-risk category and should be further classified according to the universal definition of myocardial infarction type 1 or 2 or acute or chronic nonischemic cardiac injury.
• High-risk patients should usually be admitted to an inpatient setting for further evaluation and treatment.
• Patients determined to be intermediate risk with the CDP should undergo additional observation with repeat hs-cTn measurements at 3-6 hours and risk assessment using either the modified HEART (history, ECG, age, risk factors, and troponin) score or the ED assessment of chest pain score (EDACS).
• Noninvasive testing should be considered for the intermediate-risk group unless low-risk features are identified using risk scores or noninvasive testing has been performed recently with normal or low-risk findings.

The writing group notes that “safe and efficient” management of chest pain in the ED requires appropriate follow-up after discharge. Timing of follow-up and referral for outpatient noninvasive testing should be influenced by patient risk and results of cardiac testing.

Disclosures for members of the writing group are available with the original article.

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

The American College of Cardiology has released an Expert Consensus Decision Pathway on the evaluation and disposition of acute chest pain in the emergency department.

Chest pain accounts for more than 7 million ED visits annually. A major challenge is to quickly identify the small number of patients with acute coronary syndrome (ACS) among the large number of patients who have noncardiac conditions.

The new document is intended to provide guidance on how to “practically apply” recommendations from the 2021 American Heart Association/American College of Cardiology Guideline for the Evaluation and Diagnosis of Chest Pain, focusing specifically on patients who present to the ED, the writing group explains.

“A systematic approach – both at the level of the institution and the individual patient – is essential to achieve optimal outcomes for patients presenting with chest pain to the ED,” say writing group chair Michael Kontos, MD, Virginia Commonwealth University, Richmond, and colleagues.

At the institution level, this decision pathway recommends high-sensitivity cardiac troponin (hs-cTn) assays coupled with a clinical decision pathway (CDP) to reduce ED “dwell” times and increase the number of patients with chest pain who can safely be discharged without additional testing. This will decrease ED crowding and limit unnecessary testing, they point out. 

At the individual patient level, this document aims to provide structure for the ED evaluation of chest pain, accelerating the evaluation process and matching the intensity of testing and treatment to patient risk.

The 36-page document was published online in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology.

Key summary points in the document include the following:

• Electrocardiogram remains the best initial test for evaluation of chest pain in the ED and should be performed and interpreted within 10 minutes of ED arrival.
• In patients who arrive via ambulance, the prehospital ECG should be reviewed, because ischemic changes may have resolved before ED arrival.
• When the ECG shows evidence of acute infarction or ischemia, subsequent care should follow current guidelines for management of acute ST-segment elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI) and non–ST-segment elevation ACS (NSTE-ACS).
• Patients with a nonischemic ECG can enter an accelerated CDP designed to provide rapid risk assessment and exclusion of ACS.
• Patients who are hemodynamically unstable, have significant arrhythmias, or evidence of significant heart failure should be evaluated and treated appropriately and are not candidates for an accelerated CDP.
• High-sensitivity cardiac troponin T (hs-cTnT) and high-sensitivity cardiac troponin I (hs-cTnI) are the preferred biomarkers for evaluation of possible ACS.
• Patients classified as low risk (rule out) using the current hs-cTn-based CDPs can generally be discharged directly from the ED without additional testing, although outpatient testing may be considered in selected cases.
• Patients with substantially elevated initial hs-cTn values or those with significant dynamic changes over 1-3 hours are assigned to the abnormal/high-risk category and should be further classified according to the universal definition of myocardial infarction type 1 or 2 or acute or chronic nonischemic cardiac injury.
• High-risk patients should usually be admitted to an inpatient setting for further evaluation and treatment.
• Patients determined to be intermediate risk with the CDP should undergo additional observation with repeat hs-cTn measurements at 3-6 hours and risk assessment using either the modified HEART (history, ECG, age, risk factors, and troponin) score or the ED assessment of chest pain score (EDACS).
• Noninvasive testing should be considered for the intermediate-risk group unless low-risk features are identified using risk scores or noninvasive testing has been performed recently with normal or low-risk findings.

The writing group notes that “safe and efficient” management of chest pain in the ED requires appropriate follow-up after discharge. Timing of follow-up and referral for outpatient noninvasive testing should be influenced by patient risk and results of cardiac testing.

Disclosures for members of the writing group are available with the original article.

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

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

Big-name hospital chains across the United States are opening dedicated centers to help patients dealing with long COVID. But so are the lower-profile clinics and hospitals run by cities, counties and states – including Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

The Harborview clinic, operated by King County, is an example of how public health agencies are stepping up to treat people experiencing long COVID.

They serve areas ranging from Campbell County, Wyo., with 47,000 residents, to New York City, with its 8.4 million people. Many providers working there are searching for innovative ways to approach this lingering illness with its variety of symptoms, from brain fog to shortness of breath to depression and more.

Their efforts often fall below the radar, with still-scant serious media attention to long COVID or the public health employees working to treat ailing patients.

Why are state and local health agencies taking on these duties?

They’re leading the way in part because the federal government has made only limited efforts, said Lisa McCorkell, a cofounder of the Patient-Led Research Collaborative. The international group was founded in spring 2020 by researchers who are also long COVID patients.

“It’s a big reason why long COVID isn’t talked about as much,” Ms. McCorkell said. “It’s definitely a national issue. But it trickles down to state and local health departments, and there’s not enough resources.”

The government clinics may be accessible to people without insurance and often are cheaper than clinics at private hospitals.

Harborview has treated more than 1,000 patients with long COVID, and another 200 patients are awaiting treatment, said Jessica Bender, MD, a codirector of the University of Washington Post-COVID Rehabilitation and Recovery Clinic in Seattle’s First Hill neighborhood.

The group Survivor Corps offers lists by states of clinics. While the publicly run clinics may be less expensive or even free for some patients, methods of payment vary from clinic to clinic. Federally qualified health clinics offer treatment on a sliding scale. For instance, the Riverside University Health System in California has federally qualified centers. And other providers who are not federally qualified also offer care paid for on a sliding scale. They include Campbell County Health, where some residents are eligible for discounts of 25%-100%, said spokesperson Norberto Orellana.

At Harborview, Dr. Bender said the public hospital’s post-COVID clinic initially began with a staff of rehabilitation doctors but expanded in 2021 to include family and internal medicine doctors. And it offers mental health programs with rehabilitation psychologists who instruct on how to deal with doctors or loved ones who don’t believe that long COVID exists.

“I have patients who really have been devastated by the lack of support from coworkers [and] family,” Dr. Bender said.

In Campbell County, Wyo., the pandemic surge did not arrive in earnest until late 2021. Physical therapists at Campbell County’s Health Rehabilitation Services organized a rehabilitation program for residents with long COVID after recognizing the need, said Shannon Sorensen, rehabilitation director at Campbell County Health.

“We had patients coming in showing chest pain, or heart palpitations. There were people trying to get back to work. They were frustrated,” Ms. Sorensen said.

Myalgic encephalomyelitis and chronic fatigue syndrome activists have embraced the fight to recognize and help long COVID patients, noting the similarities between the conditions, and hope to help kickstart more organized research, treatment and benefits for long COVID sufferers and myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome patients alike.

In Ft. Collins, Colo., disability activist Alison Sbrana has long had myalgic encephalomyelitis. She and other members of the local chapter of ME Action have met with state officials for several years and are finally seeing the results of those efforts.

Colorado Gov. Jared Polis has created the full-time position of policy adviser for long COVID and post–viral infection planning.

“This is one way forward of how state governments are (finally) paying attention to infection-triggered chronic illnesses and starting to think ahead on them,” Ms. Sbrana said.

New York City’s Health + Hospitals launched what may be the most expansive long COVID treatment program in the nation in April 2021. Called AfterCare, it provides physical and mental health services as well as community support systems and financial assistance.

A persistent issue for patients is that there isn’t yet a test for long COVID, like there is for COVID-19, said Amanda Johnson, MD, assistant vice president for ambulatory care and population health at New York Health + Hospitals. “It’s in many ways a diagnosis of exclusion. You have to make sure their shortness of breath isn’t caused by something else. The same with anemia,” she said.

California’s Department of Public Health has a detailed website devoted to the topic, including videos of “long haulers” describing their experiences.

Vermont is one of several states studying long COVID, said Mark Levine, MD, the state health commissioner. The state, in collaboration with the University of Vermont, has established a surveillance project to determine how many people have long COVID, as well as how severe it is, how long it lasts, and potential predispositions.

The University of Utah, Salt Lake City, established a comprehensive COVID-19 clinic more than a year ago that also handles long COVID patients, said Jeannette Brown, MD, PhD, an associate professor at the school and director of the COVID-19 clinic.

Jennifer Chevinsky, MD, MPH, already had a deep understanding of long COVID when she landed in Riverside County, Calif., in the summer of 2021. She came from Atlanta, where as part of her job as an epidemic intelligence service officer at the CDC, she heard stories of COVID-19 patients who were not getting better.

Now she is a deputy public health officer for Riverside County, in a region known for its deserts, sizzling summer temperatures and diverse populations. She said her department has helped launch programs such as post–COVID-19 follow-up phone calls and long COVID training programs that reach out to the many Latino residents in this county of 2.4 million people. It also includes Black and Native American residents.

“We’re making sure information is circulated with community and faith-based organizations, and community health workers,” she said.

Ms. McCorkell said there is still much work to do to raise public awareness of the risks of long COVID and how to obtain care for patients. She would like to see a national public health campaign about long COVID, possibly spearheaded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in partnership with local health workers and community-based organizations.

“That,” she said, “could make a big difference.”

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

Big-name hospital chains across the United States are opening dedicated centers to help patients dealing with long COVID. But so are the lower-profile clinics and hospitals run by cities, counties and states – including Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

The Harborview clinic, operated by King County, is an example of how public health agencies are stepping up to treat people experiencing long COVID.

They serve areas ranging from Campbell County, Wyo., with 47,000 residents, to New York City, with its 8.4 million people. Many providers working there are searching for innovative ways to approach this lingering illness with its variety of symptoms, from brain fog to shortness of breath to depression and more.

Their efforts often fall below the radar, with still-scant serious media attention to long COVID or the public health employees working to treat ailing patients.

Why are state and local health agencies taking on these duties?

They’re leading the way in part because the federal government has made only limited efforts, said Lisa McCorkell, a cofounder of the Patient-Led Research Collaborative. The international group was founded in spring 2020 by researchers who are also long COVID patients.

“It’s a big reason why long COVID isn’t talked about as much,” Ms. McCorkell said. “It’s definitely a national issue. But it trickles down to state and local health departments, and there’s not enough resources.”

The government clinics may be accessible to people without insurance and often are cheaper than clinics at private hospitals.

Harborview has treated more than 1,000 patients with long COVID, and another 200 patients are awaiting treatment, said Jessica Bender, MD, a codirector of the University of Washington Post-COVID Rehabilitation and Recovery Clinic in Seattle’s First Hill neighborhood.

The group Survivor Corps offers lists by states of clinics. While the publicly run clinics may be less expensive or even free for some patients, methods of payment vary from clinic to clinic. Federally qualified health clinics offer treatment on a sliding scale. For instance, the Riverside University Health System in California has federally qualified centers. And other providers who are not federally qualified also offer care paid for on a sliding scale. They include Campbell County Health, where some residents are eligible for discounts of 25%-100%, said spokesperson Norberto Orellana.

At Harborview, Dr. Bender said the public hospital’s post-COVID clinic initially began with a staff of rehabilitation doctors but expanded in 2021 to include family and internal medicine doctors. And it offers mental health programs with rehabilitation psychologists who instruct on how to deal with doctors or loved ones who don’t believe that long COVID exists.

“I have patients who really have been devastated by the lack of support from coworkers [and] family,” Dr. Bender said.

In Campbell County, Wyo., the pandemic surge did not arrive in earnest until late 2021. Physical therapists at Campbell County’s Health Rehabilitation Services organized a rehabilitation program for residents with long COVID after recognizing the need, said Shannon Sorensen, rehabilitation director at Campbell County Health.

“We had patients coming in showing chest pain, or heart palpitations. There were people trying to get back to work. They were frustrated,” Ms. Sorensen said.

Myalgic encephalomyelitis and chronic fatigue syndrome activists have embraced the fight to recognize and help long COVID patients, noting the similarities between the conditions, and hope to help kickstart more organized research, treatment and benefits for long COVID sufferers and myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome patients alike.

In Ft. Collins, Colo., disability activist Alison Sbrana has long had myalgic encephalomyelitis. She and other members of the local chapter of ME Action have met with state officials for several years and are finally seeing the results of those efforts.

Colorado Gov. Jared Polis has created the full-time position of policy adviser for long COVID and post–viral infection planning.

“This is one way forward of how state governments are (finally) paying attention to infection-triggered chronic illnesses and starting to think ahead on them,” Ms. Sbrana said.

New York City’s Health + Hospitals launched what may be the most expansive long COVID treatment program in the nation in April 2021. Called AfterCare, it provides physical and mental health services as well as community support systems and financial assistance.

A persistent issue for patients is that there isn’t yet a test for long COVID, like there is for COVID-19, said Amanda Johnson, MD, assistant vice president for ambulatory care and population health at New York Health + Hospitals. “It’s in many ways a diagnosis of exclusion. You have to make sure their shortness of breath isn’t caused by something else. The same with anemia,” she said.

California’s Department of Public Health has a detailed website devoted to the topic, including videos of “long haulers” describing their experiences.

Vermont is one of several states studying long COVID, said Mark Levine, MD, the state health commissioner. The state, in collaboration with the University of Vermont, has established a surveillance project to determine how many people have long COVID, as well as how severe it is, how long it lasts, and potential predispositions.

The University of Utah, Salt Lake City, established a comprehensive COVID-19 clinic more than a year ago that also handles long COVID patients, said Jeannette Brown, MD, PhD, an associate professor at the school and director of the COVID-19 clinic.

Jennifer Chevinsky, MD, MPH, already had a deep understanding of long COVID when she landed in Riverside County, Calif., in the summer of 2021. She came from Atlanta, where as part of her job as an epidemic intelligence service officer at the CDC, she heard stories of COVID-19 patients who were not getting better.

Now she is a deputy public health officer for Riverside County, in a region known for its deserts, sizzling summer temperatures and diverse populations. She said her department has helped launch programs such as post–COVID-19 follow-up phone calls and long COVID training programs that reach out to the many Latino residents in this county of 2.4 million people. It also includes Black and Native American residents.

“We’re making sure information is circulated with community and faith-based organizations, and community health workers,” she said.

Ms. McCorkell said there is still much work to do to raise public awareness of the risks of long COVID and how to obtain care for patients. She would like to see a national public health campaign about long COVID, possibly spearheaded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in partnership with local health workers and community-based organizations.

“That,” she said, “could make a big difference.”

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

Big-name hospital chains across the United States are opening dedicated centers to help patients dealing with long COVID. But so are the lower-profile clinics and hospitals run by cities, counties and states – including Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

The Harborview clinic, operated by King County, is an example of how public health agencies are stepping up to treat people experiencing long COVID.

They serve areas ranging from Campbell County, Wyo., with 47,000 residents, to New York City, with its 8.4 million people. Many providers working there are searching for innovative ways to approach this lingering illness with its variety of symptoms, from brain fog to shortness of breath to depression and more.

Their efforts often fall below the radar, with still-scant serious media attention to long COVID or the public health employees working to treat ailing patients.

Why are state and local health agencies taking on these duties?

They’re leading the way in part because the federal government has made only limited efforts, said Lisa McCorkell, a cofounder of the Patient-Led Research Collaborative. The international group was founded in spring 2020 by researchers who are also long COVID patients.

“It’s a big reason why long COVID isn’t talked about as much,” Ms. McCorkell said. “It’s definitely a national issue. But it trickles down to state and local health departments, and there’s not enough resources.”

The government clinics may be accessible to people without insurance and often are cheaper than clinics at private hospitals.

Harborview has treated more than 1,000 patients with long COVID, and another 200 patients are awaiting treatment, said Jessica Bender, MD, a codirector of the University of Washington Post-COVID Rehabilitation and Recovery Clinic in Seattle’s First Hill neighborhood.

The group Survivor Corps offers lists by states of clinics. While the publicly run clinics may be less expensive or even free for some patients, methods of payment vary from clinic to clinic. Federally qualified health clinics offer treatment on a sliding scale. For instance, the Riverside University Health System in California has federally qualified centers. And other providers who are not federally qualified also offer care paid for on a sliding scale. They include Campbell County Health, where some residents are eligible for discounts of 25%-100%, said spokesperson Norberto Orellana.

At Harborview, Dr. Bender said the public hospital’s post-COVID clinic initially began with a staff of rehabilitation doctors but expanded in 2021 to include family and internal medicine doctors. And it offers mental health programs with rehabilitation psychologists who instruct on how to deal with doctors or loved ones who don’t believe that long COVID exists.

“I have patients who really have been devastated by the lack of support from coworkers [and] family,” Dr. Bender said.

In Campbell County, Wyo., the pandemic surge did not arrive in earnest until late 2021. Physical therapists at Campbell County’s Health Rehabilitation Services organized a rehabilitation program for residents with long COVID after recognizing the need, said Shannon Sorensen, rehabilitation director at Campbell County Health.

“We had patients coming in showing chest pain, or heart palpitations. There were people trying to get back to work. They were frustrated,” Ms. Sorensen said.

Myalgic encephalomyelitis and chronic fatigue syndrome activists have embraced the fight to recognize and help long COVID patients, noting the similarities between the conditions, and hope to help kickstart more organized research, treatment and benefits for long COVID sufferers and myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome patients alike.

In Ft. Collins, Colo., disability activist Alison Sbrana has long had myalgic encephalomyelitis. She and other members of the local chapter of ME Action have met with state officials for several years and are finally seeing the results of those efforts.

Colorado Gov. Jared Polis has created the full-time position of policy adviser for long COVID and post–viral infection planning.

“This is one way forward of how state governments are (finally) paying attention to infection-triggered chronic illnesses and starting to think ahead on them,” Ms. Sbrana said.

New York City’s Health + Hospitals launched what may be the most expansive long COVID treatment program in the nation in April 2021. Called AfterCare, it provides physical and mental health services as well as community support systems and financial assistance.

A persistent issue for patients is that there isn’t yet a test for long COVID, like there is for COVID-19, said Amanda Johnson, MD, assistant vice president for ambulatory care and population health at New York Health + Hospitals. “It’s in many ways a diagnosis of exclusion. You have to make sure their shortness of breath isn’t caused by something else. The same with anemia,” she said.

California’s Department of Public Health has a detailed website devoted to the topic, including videos of “long haulers” describing their experiences.

Vermont is one of several states studying long COVID, said Mark Levine, MD, the state health commissioner. The state, in collaboration with the University of Vermont, has established a surveillance project to determine how many people have long COVID, as well as how severe it is, how long it lasts, and potential predispositions.

The University of Utah, Salt Lake City, established a comprehensive COVID-19 clinic more than a year ago that also handles long COVID patients, said Jeannette Brown, MD, PhD, an associate professor at the school and director of the COVID-19 clinic.

Jennifer Chevinsky, MD, MPH, already had a deep understanding of long COVID when she landed in Riverside County, Calif., in the summer of 2021. She came from Atlanta, where as part of her job as an epidemic intelligence service officer at the CDC, she heard stories of COVID-19 patients who were not getting better.

Now she is a deputy public health officer for Riverside County, in a region known for its deserts, sizzling summer temperatures and diverse populations. She said her department has helped launch programs such as post–COVID-19 follow-up phone calls and long COVID training programs that reach out to the many Latino residents in this county of 2.4 million people. It also includes Black and Native American residents.

“We’re making sure information is circulated with community and faith-based organizations, and community health workers,” she said.

Ms. McCorkell said there is still much work to do to raise public awareness of the risks of long COVID and how to obtain care for patients. She would like to see a national public health campaign about long COVID, possibly spearheaded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in partnership with local health workers and community-based organizations.

“That,” she said, “could make a big difference.”

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

Google the word “dopamine” and you will learn that its nicknames are the “happy hormone” and the “pleasure molecule” and that it is among the most important chemicals in our brains. With The Guardian branding it “the Kim Kardashian of neurotransmitters,” dopamine has become a true pop-science darling – people across the globe have attempted to boost their mood with dopamine fasts and dopamine dressing.

A century ago, however, newly discovered dopamine was seen as an uninspiring chemical, nothing more than a precursor of noradrenaline. It took several stubborn and hardworking scientists to change that view.
 

Levodopa: An indifferent precursor

When Casimir Funk, PhD, a Polish biochemist and the discoverer of vitamins, first synthesized the dopamine precursor levodopa in 1911, he had no idea how important the molecule would prove to be in pharmacology and neurobiology. Nor did Markus Guggenheim, PhD, a Swiss biochemist, who isolated levodopa in 1913 from the seeds of a broad bean, Vicia faba. Dr. Guggenheim administered 1 g of levodopa to a rabbit, with no apparent negative consequences. He then prepared a larger dose (2.5 g) and tested it on himself. “Ten minutes after taking it, I felt very nauseous, I had to vomit twice,” he wrote in his paper. In the body, levodopa is converted into dopamine, which may act as an emetic – an effect Dr. Guggenheim didn’t understand. He simply abandoned his human study, erroneously concluding, on the basis of his animal research, that levodopa is “pharmacologically fairly indifferent.”

Around the same time, several scientists across Europe successfully synthesized dopamine, but those discoveries were shelved without much fanfare. For the next 3 decades, dopamine and levodopa were pushed into academic obscurity. Just before World War II, a group of German scientists showed that levodopa is metabolized to dopamine in the body, while another German researcher, Hermann Blaschko, MD, discovered that dopamine is an intermediary in the synthesis of noradrenaline. Even these findings, however, were not immediately accepted.

The dopamine story picked up pace in the post-war years with the observation that the hormone was present in various tissues and body fluids, although nowhere as abundantly as in the central nervous system. Intrigued, Dr. Blaschko, who (after escaping Nazi Germany, changing his name to Hugh, and starting work at Oxford [England] University) hypothesized that dopamine couldn’t be an unremarkable precursor of noradrenaline – it had to have some physiologic functions of its own. He asked his postdoctoral fellow, Oheh Hornykiewicz, MD, to test a few ideas. Dr. Hornykiewicz soon confirmed that dopamine lowered blood pressure in guinea pigs, proving that dopamine indeed had physiologic activity that was independent of other catecholamines.
 

Reserpine and rabbit ears

While Dr. Blaschko and Dr. Hornykiewicz were puzzling over dopamine’s physiologic role in the body, across the ocean at the National Heart Institute in Maryland, pharmacologist Bernard Brodie, PhD and colleagues were laying the groundwork for the discovery of dopamine’s starring role in the brain.

Spoiler alert: Dr. Brodie’s work showed that a new psychiatric drug known as reserpine was capable of fully depleting the brain’s stores of serotonin and – of greatest significance, as it turned out – mimicking the neuromuscular symptoms typical of Parkinson’s disease. The connection to dopamine would be made by new lab colleague Arvid Carlsson, MD, PhD, who would go on to win a Nobel Prize.

Derived from Rauwolfia serpentina (a plant that for centuries has been used in India for the treatment of mental illness, insomnia, and snake bites), reserpine was introduced in the West as a treatment for schizophrenia.

It worked marvels. In 1954, the press lauded the “dramatic” and seemingly “incredible”: results in treating “hopelessly insane patients.” Reserpine had a downside, however. Reports soon changed in tone regarding the drug’s severe side effects, including headaches, dizziness, vomiting, and, far more disturbingly, symptoms mimicking Parkinson’s disease, from muscular rigidity to tremors.

Dr. Brodie observed that, when reserpine was injected, animals became completely immobile. Serotonin nearly vanished from their brains, but bizarrely, drugs that spur serotonin production did not reverse the rabbits’ immobility.

Dr. Carlsson realized that other catecholamines must be involved in reserpine’s side effects, and he began to search for the culprits. He moved back to his native Sweden and ordered a spectrophotofluorimeter. In one of his experiments, Carlsson injected a pair of rabbits with reserpine, which caused the animals to become catatonic with flattened ears. After the researchers injected the animals with levodopa, within 15 minutes, the rabbits were hopping around, ears proudly vertical. “We were just as excited as the rabbits,” Dr. Carlsson later recalled in a 2016 interview. Dr. Carlsson realized that, because there was no noradrenaline in the rabbits’ brains, dopamine depletion must have been directly responsible for producing reserpine’s motor inhibitory effects.
 

Skeptics are silenced

In 1960, however, the medical community was not yet ready to accept that dopamine was anything but a boring intermediate between levodopa and noradrenaline. At a prestigious London symposium, Dr. Carlsson and his two colleagues presented their hypothesis that dopamine may be a neurotransmitter, thus implicating it in Parkinson’s disease. They were met with harsh criticism. Some of the experts said levodopa was nothing more than a poison. Dr. Carlsson later recalled facing “a profound and nearly unanimous skepticism regarding our points of view.”

That would soon change. Dr. Hornykiewicz, the biochemist who had earlier discovered dopamine’s BP-lowering effects, tested Dr. Carlsson’s ideas using the postmortem brains of Parkinson’s disease patients. It appeared Dr. Carlsson was right: Unlike in healthy brains, the striatum of patients with Parkinson’s disease contained almost no dopamine whatsoever. Beginning in 1961, in collaboration with neurologist Walther Birkmayer, MD, Hornykiewicz injected levodopa into 20 patients with Parkinson’s disease and observed a “miraculous” (albeit temporary) amelioration of rigidity, motionlessness, and speechlessness.

By the late 1960s, levodopa and dopamine were making headlines. A 1969 New York Times article described similar stunning improvements in patients with Parkinson’s disease who were treated with levodopa. A patient who had arrived at a hospital unable to speak, with hands clenched and rigid expression, was suddenly able to stride into his doctor’s office and even jog around. “I might say I’m a human being,” he told reporters. Although the treatment was expensive – equivalent to $210 in 2022 – physicians were deluged with requests for “dopa.” To this day, levodopa remains a gold standard in the treatment of Parkinson’s disease.
 

Still misunderstood

The history of dopamine, however, is not only about Parkinson’s disease but extends to the treatment of schizophrenia and addiction. When in the1940s a French military surgeon started giving a new antihistamine drug, promethazine, to prevent shock in soldiers undergoing surgery, he noticed a bizarre side effect: the soldiers would become euphoric yet oddly calm at the same time.

After the drug was modified by adding a chlorine atom and renamed chlorpromazine, it fast became a go-to treatment for psychosis. At the time, no one made the connection to dopamine. Contemporary doctors believed that it calmed people by lowering body temperature (common treatments for mental illness back in the day included swaddling patients in cold, wet sheets). Yet just like reserpine, chlorpromazine produced range of nasty side effects that closely mimicked Parkinson’s disease. This led a Dutch pharmacologist, Jacques van Rossum, to hypothesize that dopamine receptor blockade could explain chlorpromazine’s antipsychotic effects – an idea that remains widely accepted today.

In the 1970s, dopamine was linked with addiction through research on rodents, and this novel idea caught people’s imagination over the coming decades. A story on dopamine titled, “How We Get Addicted,” made the cover of Time in 1997.

Yet as the dopamine/addiction connection became widespread, it also became oversimplified. According to a 2015 article in Nature Reviews Neuroscience, a wave of low-quality research followed – nonreplicated, insufficient – which led the authors to conclude that we are “addicted to the dopamine theory of addiction.” Just about every pleasure under the sun was being attributed to dopamine, from eating delicious foods and playing computer games to sex, music, and hot showers. As recent science shows, however, dopamine is not simply about pleasure – it’s about reward prediction, response to stress, memory, learning, and even the functioning of the immune system. Since its first synthesis in the early 20th century, dopamine has often been misunderstood and oversimplified – and it seems the story is repeating itself now.

In one of his final interviews, Dr. Carlsson, who passed away in 2018 at the age of 95, warned about playing around with dopamine and, in particular, prescribing drugs that have an inhibitory action on this neurotransmitter. “Dopamine is involved in everything that happens in our brains – all its important functions,” he said.

We should be careful how we handle such a delicate and still little-known system.

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

Google the word “dopamine” and you will learn that its nicknames are the “happy hormone” and the “pleasure molecule” and that it is among the most important chemicals in our brains. With The Guardian branding it “the Kim Kardashian of neurotransmitters,” dopamine has become a true pop-science darling – people across the globe have attempted to boost their mood with dopamine fasts and dopamine dressing.

A century ago, however, newly discovered dopamine was seen as an uninspiring chemical, nothing more than a precursor of noradrenaline. It took several stubborn and hardworking scientists to change that view.
 

Levodopa: An indifferent precursor

When Casimir Funk, PhD, a Polish biochemist and the discoverer of vitamins, first synthesized the dopamine precursor levodopa in 1911, he had no idea how important the molecule would prove to be in pharmacology and neurobiology. Nor did Markus Guggenheim, PhD, a Swiss biochemist, who isolated levodopa in 1913 from the seeds of a broad bean, Vicia faba. Dr. Guggenheim administered 1 g of levodopa to a rabbit, with no apparent negative consequences. He then prepared a larger dose (2.5 g) and tested it on himself. “Ten minutes after taking it, I felt very nauseous, I had to vomit twice,” he wrote in his paper. In the body, levodopa is converted into dopamine, which may act as an emetic – an effect Dr. Guggenheim didn’t understand. He simply abandoned his human study, erroneously concluding, on the basis of his animal research, that levodopa is “pharmacologically fairly indifferent.”

Around the same time, several scientists across Europe successfully synthesized dopamine, but those discoveries were shelved without much fanfare. For the next 3 decades, dopamine and levodopa were pushed into academic obscurity. Just before World War II, a group of German scientists showed that levodopa is metabolized to dopamine in the body, while another German researcher, Hermann Blaschko, MD, discovered that dopamine is an intermediary in the synthesis of noradrenaline. Even these findings, however, were not immediately accepted.

The dopamine story picked up pace in the post-war years with the observation that the hormone was present in various tissues and body fluids, although nowhere as abundantly as in the central nervous system. Intrigued, Dr. Blaschko, who (after escaping Nazi Germany, changing his name to Hugh, and starting work at Oxford [England] University) hypothesized that dopamine couldn’t be an unremarkable precursor of noradrenaline – it had to have some physiologic functions of its own. He asked his postdoctoral fellow, Oheh Hornykiewicz, MD, to test a few ideas. Dr. Hornykiewicz soon confirmed that dopamine lowered blood pressure in guinea pigs, proving that dopamine indeed had physiologic activity that was independent of other catecholamines.
 

Reserpine and rabbit ears

While Dr. Blaschko and Dr. Hornykiewicz were puzzling over dopamine’s physiologic role in the body, across the ocean at the National Heart Institute in Maryland, pharmacologist Bernard Brodie, PhD and colleagues were laying the groundwork for the discovery of dopamine’s starring role in the brain.

Spoiler alert: Dr. Brodie’s work showed that a new psychiatric drug known as reserpine was capable of fully depleting the brain’s stores of serotonin and – of greatest significance, as it turned out – mimicking the neuromuscular symptoms typical of Parkinson’s disease. The connection to dopamine would be made by new lab colleague Arvid Carlsson, MD, PhD, who would go on to win a Nobel Prize.

Derived from Rauwolfia serpentina (a plant that for centuries has been used in India for the treatment of mental illness, insomnia, and snake bites), reserpine was introduced in the West as a treatment for schizophrenia.

It worked marvels. In 1954, the press lauded the “dramatic” and seemingly “incredible”: results in treating “hopelessly insane patients.” Reserpine had a downside, however. Reports soon changed in tone regarding the drug’s severe side effects, including headaches, dizziness, vomiting, and, far more disturbingly, symptoms mimicking Parkinson’s disease, from muscular rigidity to tremors.

Dr. Brodie observed that, when reserpine was injected, animals became completely immobile. Serotonin nearly vanished from their brains, but bizarrely, drugs that spur serotonin production did not reverse the rabbits’ immobility.

Dr. Carlsson realized that other catecholamines must be involved in reserpine’s side effects, and he began to search for the culprits. He moved back to his native Sweden and ordered a spectrophotofluorimeter. In one of his experiments, Carlsson injected a pair of rabbits with reserpine, which caused the animals to become catatonic with flattened ears. After the researchers injected the animals with levodopa, within 15 minutes, the rabbits were hopping around, ears proudly vertical. “We were just as excited as the rabbits,” Dr. Carlsson later recalled in a 2016 interview. Dr. Carlsson realized that, because there was no noradrenaline in the rabbits’ brains, dopamine depletion must have been directly responsible for producing reserpine’s motor inhibitory effects.
 

Skeptics are silenced

In 1960, however, the medical community was not yet ready to accept that dopamine was anything but a boring intermediate between levodopa and noradrenaline. At a prestigious London symposium, Dr. Carlsson and his two colleagues presented their hypothesis that dopamine may be a neurotransmitter, thus implicating it in Parkinson’s disease. They were met with harsh criticism. Some of the experts said levodopa was nothing more than a poison. Dr. Carlsson later recalled facing “a profound and nearly unanimous skepticism regarding our points of view.”

That would soon change. Dr. Hornykiewicz, the biochemist who had earlier discovered dopamine’s BP-lowering effects, tested Dr. Carlsson’s ideas using the postmortem brains of Parkinson’s disease patients. It appeared Dr. Carlsson was right: Unlike in healthy brains, the striatum of patients with Parkinson’s disease contained almost no dopamine whatsoever. Beginning in 1961, in collaboration with neurologist Walther Birkmayer, MD, Hornykiewicz injected levodopa into 20 patients with Parkinson’s disease and observed a “miraculous” (albeit temporary) amelioration of rigidity, motionlessness, and speechlessness.

By the late 1960s, levodopa and dopamine were making headlines. A 1969 New York Times article described similar stunning improvements in patients with Parkinson’s disease who were treated with levodopa. A patient who had arrived at a hospital unable to speak, with hands clenched and rigid expression, was suddenly able to stride into his doctor’s office and even jog around. “I might say I’m a human being,” he told reporters. Although the treatment was expensive – equivalent to $210 in 2022 – physicians were deluged with requests for “dopa.” To this day, levodopa remains a gold standard in the treatment of Parkinson’s disease.
 

Still misunderstood

The history of dopamine, however, is not only about Parkinson’s disease but extends to the treatment of schizophrenia and addiction. When in the1940s a French military surgeon started giving a new antihistamine drug, promethazine, to prevent shock in soldiers undergoing surgery, he noticed a bizarre side effect: the soldiers would become euphoric yet oddly calm at the same time.

After the drug was modified by adding a chlorine atom and renamed chlorpromazine, it fast became a go-to treatment for psychosis. At the time, no one made the connection to dopamine. Contemporary doctors believed that it calmed people by lowering body temperature (common treatments for mental illness back in the day included swaddling patients in cold, wet sheets). Yet just like reserpine, chlorpromazine produced range of nasty side effects that closely mimicked Parkinson’s disease. This led a Dutch pharmacologist, Jacques van Rossum, to hypothesize that dopamine receptor blockade could explain chlorpromazine’s antipsychotic effects – an idea that remains widely accepted today.

In the 1970s, dopamine was linked with addiction through research on rodents, and this novel idea caught people’s imagination over the coming decades. A story on dopamine titled, “How We Get Addicted,” made the cover of Time in 1997.

Yet as the dopamine/addiction connection became widespread, it also became oversimplified. According to a 2015 article in Nature Reviews Neuroscience, a wave of low-quality research followed – nonreplicated, insufficient – which led the authors to conclude that we are “addicted to the dopamine theory of addiction.” Just about every pleasure under the sun was being attributed to dopamine, from eating delicious foods and playing computer games to sex, music, and hot showers. As recent science shows, however, dopamine is not simply about pleasure – it’s about reward prediction, response to stress, memory, learning, and even the functioning of the immune system. Since its first synthesis in the early 20th century, dopamine has often been misunderstood and oversimplified – and it seems the story is repeating itself now.

In one of his final interviews, Dr. Carlsson, who passed away in 2018 at the age of 95, warned about playing around with dopamine and, in particular, prescribing drugs that have an inhibitory action on this neurotransmitter. “Dopamine is involved in everything that happens in our brains – all its important functions,” he said.

We should be careful how we handle such a delicate and still little-known system.

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

Google the word “dopamine” and you will learn that its nicknames are the “happy hormone” and the “pleasure molecule” and that it is among the most important chemicals in our brains. With The Guardian branding it “the Kim Kardashian of neurotransmitters,” dopamine has become a true pop-science darling – people across the globe have attempted to boost their mood with dopamine fasts and dopamine dressing.

A century ago, however, newly discovered dopamine was seen as an uninspiring chemical, nothing more than a precursor of noradrenaline. It took several stubborn and hardworking scientists to change that view.
 

Levodopa: An indifferent precursor

When Casimir Funk, PhD, a Polish biochemist and the discoverer of vitamins, first synthesized the dopamine precursor levodopa in 1911, he had no idea how important the molecule would prove to be in pharmacology and neurobiology. Nor did Markus Guggenheim, PhD, a Swiss biochemist, who isolated levodopa in 1913 from the seeds of a broad bean, Vicia faba. Dr. Guggenheim administered 1 g of levodopa to a rabbit, with no apparent negative consequences. He then prepared a larger dose (2.5 g) and tested it on himself. “Ten minutes after taking it, I felt very nauseous, I had to vomit twice,” he wrote in his paper. In the body, levodopa is converted into dopamine, which may act as an emetic – an effect Dr. Guggenheim didn’t understand. He simply abandoned his human study, erroneously concluding, on the basis of his animal research, that levodopa is “pharmacologically fairly indifferent.”

Around the same time, several scientists across Europe successfully synthesized dopamine, but those discoveries were shelved without much fanfare. For the next 3 decades, dopamine and levodopa were pushed into academic obscurity. Just before World War II, a group of German scientists showed that levodopa is metabolized to dopamine in the body, while another German researcher, Hermann Blaschko, MD, discovered that dopamine is an intermediary in the synthesis of noradrenaline. Even these findings, however, were not immediately accepted.

The dopamine story picked up pace in the post-war years with the observation that the hormone was present in various tissues and body fluids, although nowhere as abundantly as in the central nervous system. Intrigued, Dr. Blaschko, who (after escaping Nazi Germany, changing his name to Hugh, and starting work at Oxford [England] University) hypothesized that dopamine couldn’t be an unremarkable precursor of noradrenaline – it had to have some physiologic functions of its own. He asked his postdoctoral fellow, Oheh Hornykiewicz, MD, to test a few ideas. Dr. Hornykiewicz soon confirmed that dopamine lowered blood pressure in guinea pigs, proving that dopamine indeed had physiologic activity that was independent of other catecholamines.
 

Reserpine and rabbit ears

While Dr. Blaschko and Dr. Hornykiewicz were puzzling over dopamine’s physiologic role in the body, across the ocean at the National Heart Institute in Maryland, pharmacologist Bernard Brodie, PhD and colleagues were laying the groundwork for the discovery of dopamine’s starring role in the brain.

Spoiler alert: Dr. Brodie’s work showed that a new psychiatric drug known as reserpine was capable of fully depleting the brain’s stores of serotonin and – of greatest significance, as it turned out – mimicking the neuromuscular symptoms typical of Parkinson’s disease. The connection to dopamine would be made by new lab colleague Arvid Carlsson, MD, PhD, who would go on to win a Nobel Prize.

Derived from Rauwolfia serpentina (a plant that for centuries has been used in India for the treatment of mental illness, insomnia, and snake bites), reserpine was introduced in the West as a treatment for schizophrenia.

It worked marvels. In 1954, the press lauded the “dramatic” and seemingly “incredible”: results in treating “hopelessly insane patients.” Reserpine had a downside, however. Reports soon changed in tone regarding the drug’s severe side effects, including headaches, dizziness, vomiting, and, far more disturbingly, symptoms mimicking Parkinson’s disease, from muscular rigidity to tremors.

Dr. Brodie observed that, when reserpine was injected, animals became completely immobile. Serotonin nearly vanished from their brains, but bizarrely, drugs that spur serotonin production did not reverse the rabbits’ immobility.

Dr. Carlsson realized that other catecholamines must be involved in reserpine’s side effects, and he began to search for the culprits. He moved back to his native Sweden and ordered a spectrophotofluorimeter. In one of his experiments, Carlsson injected a pair of rabbits with reserpine, which caused the animals to become catatonic with flattened ears. After the researchers injected the animals with levodopa, within 15 minutes, the rabbits were hopping around, ears proudly vertical. “We were just as excited as the rabbits,” Dr. Carlsson later recalled in a 2016 interview. Dr. Carlsson realized that, because there was no noradrenaline in the rabbits’ brains, dopamine depletion must have been directly responsible for producing reserpine’s motor inhibitory effects.
 

Skeptics are silenced

In 1960, however, the medical community was not yet ready to accept that dopamine was anything but a boring intermediate between levodopa and noradrenaline. At a prestigious London symposium, Dr. Carlsson and his two colleagues presented their hypothesis that dopamine may be a neurotransmitter, thus implicating it in Parkinson’s disease. They were met with harsh criticism. Some of the experts said levodopa was nothing more than a poison. Dr. Carlsson later recalled facing “a profound and nearly unanimous skepticism regarding our points of view.”

That would soon change. Dr. Hornykiewicz, the biochemist who had earlier discovered dopamine’s BP-lowering effects, tested Dr. Carlsson’s ideas using the postmortem brains of Parkinson’s disease patients. It appeared Dr. Carlsson was right: Unlike in healthy brains, the striatum of patients with Parkinson’s disease contained almost no dopamine whatsoever. Beginning in 1961, in collaboration with neurologist Walther Birkmayer, MD, Hornykiewicz injected levodopa into 20 patients with Parkinson’s disease and observed a “miraculous” (albeit temporary) amelioration of rigidity, motionlessness, and speechlessness.

By the late 1960s, levodopa and dopamine were making headlines. A 1969 New York Times article described similar stunning improvements in patients with Parkinson’s disease who were treated with levodopa. A patient who had arrived at a hospital unable to speak, with hands clenched and rigid expression, was suddenly able to stride into his doctor’s office and even jog around. “I might say I’m a human being,” he told reporters. Although the treatment was expensive – equivalent to $210 in 2022 – physicians were deluged with requests for “dopa.” To this day, levodopa remains a gold standard in the treatment of Parkinson’s disease.
 

Still misunderstood

The history of dopamine, however, is not only about Parkinson’s disease but extends to the treatment of schizophrenia and addiction. When in the1940s a French military surgeon started giving a new antihistamine drug, promethazine, to prevent shock in soldiers undergoing surgery, he noticed a bizarre side effect: the soldiers would become euphoric yet oddly calm at the same time.

After the drug was modified by adding a chlorine atom and renamed chlorpromazine, it fast became a go-to treatment for psychosis. At the time, no one made the connection to dopamine. Contemporary doctors believed that it calmed people by lowering body temperature (common treatments for mental illness back in the day included swaddling patients in cold, wet sheets). Yet just like reserpine, chlorpromazine produced range of nasty side effects that closely mimicked Parkinson’s disease. This led a Dutch pharmacologist, Jacques van Rossum, to hypothesize that dopamine receptor blockade could explain chlorpromazine’s antipsychotic effects – an idea that remains widely accepted today.

In the 1970s, dopamine was linked with addiction through research on rodents, and this novel idea caught people’s imagination over the coming decades. A story on dopamine titled, “How We Get Addicted,” made the cover of Time in 1997.

Yet as the dopamine/addiction connection became widespread, it also became oversimplified. According to a 2015 article in Nature Reviews Neuroscience, a wave of low-quality research followed – nonreplicated, insufficient – which led the authors to conclude that we are “addicted to the dopamine theory of addiction.” Just about every pleasure under the sun was being attributed to dopamine, from eating delicious foods and playing computer games to sex, music, and hot showers. As recent science shows, however, dopamine is not simply about pleasure – it’s about reward prediction, response to stress, memory, learning, and even the functioning of the immune system. Since its first synthesis in the early 20th century, dopamine has often been misunderstood and oversimplified – and it seems the story is repeating itself now.

In one of his final interviews, Dr. Carlsson, who passed away in 2018 at the age of 95, warned about playing around with dopamine and, in particular, prescribing drugs that have an inhibitory action on this neurotransmitter. “Dopamine is involved in everything that happens in our brains – all its important functions,” he said.

We should be careful how we handle such a delicate and still little-known system.

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.

Whatever the mechanism of benefit from dapagliflozin (Farxiga) in patients with heart failure (HF) – and potentially also other sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors – its blood pressure lowering effects aren’t likely to contribute much.

Indeed, at least in patients with HF and non-reduced ejection fractions, dapagliflozin has only a modest BP-lowering effect and cuts cardiovascular (CV) risk regardless of baseline pressure or change in systolic BP, suggests a secondary analysis from the large placebo-controlled DELIVER trial.

Systolic BP fell over 1 month by just under 2 mmHg, on average, in trial patients with either mildly reduced or preserved ejection fraction (HFmrEF or HFpEF, respectively) assigned to take dapagliflozin versus placebo.

The effect was achieved without increasing the risk for adverse events from dapagliflozin, even among patients with the lowest baseline systolic pressures. Adverse outcomes overall, however, were more common at the lowest systolic BP level than at higher pressures, researchers reported.

They say the findings should help alleviate long-standing concerns that initiating SGLT2 inhibitors, with their recognized diuretic effects, might present a hazard in patients with HF and low systolic BP.

“It is a consistent theme in heart failure trials that the blood pressure–lowering effect of SGLT2 inhibitors is more modest than it is in non–heart-failure populations,” Senthil Selvaraj, MD, Duke University, Durham, N.C., told this news organization.

Changes to antihypertensive drug therapy throughout the trial, which presumably enhanced BP responses and “might occur more frequently in the placebo group,” Dr. Selvaraj said, “might explain why the blood pressure effect is a little bit more modest in this population.”

Dr. Selvaraj presented the analysis at the Annual Scientific Meeting of the Heart Failure Society of America, held in National Harbor, Md., and is lead author on its same-day publication in JACC: Heart Failure.

The findings “reinforce the clinical benefits of SGLT2 inhibitors in patients with heart failure across the full spectrum of ejection fractions and large range of systolic blood pressures,” said Gregg C. Fonarow, MD, University of California, Los Angeles Medical Center, who was not part of the DELIVER analysis.

The study’s greater adjusted risks for CV and all-cause mortality risks at the lowest baseline systolic pressures “parallels a series of observational analyses from registries, including OPTIMIZE-HF,” Dr. Fonarow observed.

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

Whatever the mechanism of benefit from dapagliflozin (Farxiga) in patients with heart failure (HF) – and potentially also other sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors – its blood pressure lowering effects aren’t likely to contribute much.

Indeed, at least in patients with HF and non-reduced ejection fractions, dapagliflozin has only a modest BP-lowering effect and cuts cardiovascular (CV) risk regardless of baseline pressure or change in systolic BP, suggests a secondary analysis from the large placebo-controlled DELIVER trial.

Systolic BP fell over 1 month by just under 2 mmHg, on average, in trial patients with either mildly reduced or preserved ejection fraction (HFmrEF or HFpEF, respectively) assigned to take dapagliflozin versus placebo.

The effect was achieved without increasing the risk for adverse events from dapagliflozin, even among patients with the lowest baseline systolic pressures. Adverse outcomes overall, however, were more common at the lowest systolic BP level than at higher pressures, researchers reported.

They say the findings should help alleviate long-standing concerns that initiating SGLT2 inhibitors, with their recognized diuretic effects, might present a hazard in patients with HF and low systolic BP.

“It is a consistent theme in heart failure trials that the blood pressure–lowering effect of SGLT2 inhibitors is more modest than it is in non–heart-failure populations,” Senthil Selvaraj, MD, Duke University, Durham, N.C., told this news organization.

Changes to antihypertensive drug therapy throughout the trial, which presumably enhanced BP responses and “might occur more frequently in the placebo group,” Dr. Selvaraj said, “might explain why the blood pressure effect is a little bit more modest in this population.”

Dr. Selvaraj presented the analysis at the Annual Scientific Meeting of the Heart Failure Society of America, held in National Harbor, Md., and is lead author on its same-day publication in JACC: Heart Failure.

The findings “reinforce the clinical benefits of SGLT2 inhibitors in patients with heart failure across the full spectrum of ejection fractions and large range of systolic blood pressures,” said Gregg C. Fonarow, MD, University of California, Los Angeles Medical Center, who was not part of the DELIVER analysis.

The study’s greater adjusted risks for CV and all-cause mortality risks at the lowest baseline systolic pressures “parallels a series of observational analyses from registries, including OPTIMIZE-HF,” Dr. Fonarow observed.

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

Whatever the mechanism of benefit from dapagliflozin (Farxiga) in patients with heart failure (HF) – and potentially also other sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors – its blood pressure lowering effects aren’t likely to contribute much.

Indeed, at least in patients with HF and non-reduced ejection fractions, dapagliflozin has only a modest BP-lowering effect and cuts cardiovascular (CV) risk regardless of baseline pressure or change in systolic BP, suggests a secondary analysis from the large placebo-controlled DELIVER trial.

Systolic BP fell over 1 month by just under 2 mmHg, on average, in trial patients with either mildly reduced or preserved ejection fraction (HFmrEF or HFpEF, respectively) assigned to take dapagliflozin versus placebo.

The effect was achieved without increasing the risk for adverse events from dapagliflozin, even among patients with the lowest baseline systolic pressures. Adverse outcomes overall, however, were more common at the lowest systolic BP level than at higher pressures, researchers reported.

They say the findings should help alleviate long-standing concerns that initiating SGLT2 inhibitors, with their recognized diuretic effects, might present a hazard in patients with HF and low systolic BP.

“It is a consistent theme in heart failure trials that the blood pressure–lowering effect of SGLT2 inhibitors is more modest than it is in non–heart-failure populations,” Senthil Selvaraj, MD, Duke University, Durham, N.C., told this news organization.

Changes to antihypertensive drug therapy throughout the trial, which presumably enhanced BP responses and “might occur more frequently in the placebo group,” Dr. Selvaraj said, “might explain why the blood pressure effect is a little bit more modest in this population.”

Dr. Selvaraj presented the analysis at the Annual Scientific Meeting of the Heart Failure Society of America, held in National Harbor, Md., and is lead author on its same-day publication in JACC: Heart Failure.

The findings “reinforce the clinical benefits of SGLT2 inhibitors in patients with heart failure across the full spectrum of ejection fractions and large range of systolic blood pressures,” said Gregg C. Fonarow, MD, University of California, Los Angeles Medical Center, who was not part of the DELIVER analysis.

The study’s greater adjusted risks for CV and all-cause mortality risks at the lowest baseline systolic pressures “parallels a series of observational analyses from registries, including OPTIMIZE-HF,” Dr. Fonarow observed.

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

Resistance training can help improve several symptoms of Parkinson’s disease – but is not superior to other physical activities, new research suggests.

A meta-analysis, which included 18 randomized controlled trials and more than 1,000 patients with Parkinson’s disease, showed that those who underwent resistance training had significantly greater improvement in motor impairment, muscle strength, and mobility/balance than their peers who underwent passive or placebo interventions.

However, there was no significant difference between patients who participated in resistance training and those who participated in other active physical interventions, including yoga.

Overall, the results highlight the importance that these patients should participate in some type of physical exercise, said the study’s lead author, Romina Gollan, MSc, an assistant researcher in the division of medical psychology, University of Cologne, Germany. “Patients should definitely be doing exercises, including resistance training, if they want to. But the type of exercise is of secondary interest,” she said.

The findings were presented at the International Congress of Parkinson’s Disease and Movement Disorders.
 

Positive but inconsistent

Previous reviews have suggested resistance training has positive effects on motor function in Parkinson’s disease. However, results from the included studies were inconsistent; and few reviews have examined nonmotor outcomes of resistance training in this population, the investigators noted.

After carrying out a literature search of studies that examined the effects of resistance training in Parkinson’s disease, the researchers included 18 randomized controlled trials in their current review. Among the 1,134 total participants, the mean age was 66 years, the mean Hoehn & Yahr stage was 2.3 (range 0-4), and the mean duration of Parkinson’s disease was 7.5 years.

The investigation was grouped into two meta-analysis groups: one examining resistance training versus a passive or placebo intervention and the other assessing resistance training versus active physical interventions, such as yoga.

During resistance training, participants use their full strength to do a repetition, working muscles to overcome a certain threshold, said Ms. Gollan. In contrast, a placebo intervention is “very low intensity” and involves a much lower threshold, she added.

Passive interventions include such things as stretching where the stimulus “is not high enough for muscles to adapt” and build strength, Ms. Gollan noted.

A passive intervention might also include “treatment as usual” or normal daily routines.
 

Patient preference important

The meta-analysis comparing resistance training groups with passive control groups showed significant large effects on muscle strength (standard mean difference, –0.84; 95% confidence interval, –1.29 to –0.39; P = .0003), motor impairment (SMD, –0.81; 95% CI, –1.34 to –0.27; P = .003), and mobility and balance (SMD, –1.80; 95% CI, –3.13 to –0.49; P  = .007).

The review also showed significant but small effects on quality of life.

However, the meta-analysis that assessed resistance training versus other physical interventions showed no significant between-group differences.

Ms. Gollan noted that although there were some assessments of cognition and depression, the data were too limited to determine the impact of resistance training on these outcomes.

“We need more studies, especially randomized controlled trials, to investigate the effects of resistance training on nonmotor outcomes like depression and cognition,” she said.

Co-investigator Ann-Kristin Folkerts, PhD, who heads the University of Cologne medical psychology working group, noted that although exercise in general is beneficial for patients with Parkinson’s disease, the choice of activity should take patient preferences into consideration.

It is important that patients choose an exercise they enjoy “because otherwise they probably wouldn’t adhere to the treatment,” Dr. Folkerts said. “It’s important to have fun.”

Specific goals or objectives, such as improving quality of life or balance, should also be considered, she added.
 

Oversimplification?

Commenting on the research, Alice Nieuwboer, PhD, professor in the department of rehabilitation sciences and head of the neurorehabilitation research group at the University of Leuven, Belgium, disagreed that exercise type is of secondary importance in Parkinson’s disease.

“In my view, it’s of primary interest, especially at the mid- to later stages,” said Dr. Nieuwboer, who was not involved with the research.

She noted it is difficult to carry out meta-analyses of resistance training versus other interventions because studies comparing different exercise types “are rather scarce.”

“Another issue is that the dose may differ, so you’re comparing apples with pears,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

She did agree that all patients should exercise, because it is “better than no exercise,” and they should be “free to choose a mode that interests them.”

However, she stressed that exercise requires significant effort on the part of patients with Parkinson’s disease, requires “sustained motivation,” and has to become habit-forming. This makes “exercise targeting” very important, with the target changing over the disease course, Dr. Nieuwboer said.

For example, for a patient at an early stage of the disease who can still move quite well, both resistance training and endurance training can improve fitness and health; but at a mid-stage, it is perhaps better for patients to work on balance and walking quality “to preempt the risk of falls and developing freezing,” she noted.

Later on, as movement becomes very difficult, “the exercise menu is even more restricted,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

The bottom line is that a message saying “any movement counts” is an oversimplification, she added.

The study was funded by a grant from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research. The investigators and Dr. Nieuwboer have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Resistance training can help improve several symptoms of Parkinson’s disease – but is not superior to other physical activities, new research suggests.

A meta-analysis, which included 18 randomized controlled trials and more than 1,000 patients with Parkinson’s disease, showed that those who underwent resistance training had significantly greater improvement in motor impairment, muscle strength, and mobility/balance than their peers who underwent passive or placebo interventions.

However, there was no significant difference between patients who participated in resistance training and those who participated in other active physical interventions, including yoga.

Overall, the results highlight the importance that these patients should participate in some type of physical exercise, said the study’s lead author, Romina Gollan, MSc, an assistant researcher in the division of medical psychology, University of Cologne, Germany. “Patients should definitely be doing exercises, including resistance training, if they want to. But the type of exercise is of secondary interest,” she said.

The findings were presented at the International Congress of Parkinson’s Disease and Movement Disorders.
 

Positive but inconsistent

Previous reviews have suggested resistance training has positive effects on motor function in Parkinson’s disease. However, results from the included studies were inconsistent; and few reviews have examined nonmotor outcomes of resistance training in this population, the investigators noted.

After carrying out a literature search of studies that examined the effects of resistance training in Parkinson’s disease, the researchers included 18 randomized controlled trials in their current review. Among the 1,134 total participants, the mean age was 66 years, the mean Hoehn & Yahr stage was 2.3 (range 0-4), and the mean duration of Parkinson’s disease was 7.5 years.

The investigation was grouped into two meta-analysis groups: one examining resistance training versus a passive or placebo intervention and the other assessing resistance training versus active physical interventions, such as yoga.

During resistance training, participants use their full strength to do a repetition, working muscles to overcome a certain threshold, said Ms. Gollan. In contrast, a placebo intervention is “very low intensity” and involves a much lower threshold, she added.

Passive interventions include such things as stretching where the stimulus “is not high enough for muscles to adapt” and build strength, Ms. Gollan noted.

A passive intervention might also include “treatment as usual” or normal daily routines.
 

Patient preference important

The meta-analysis comparing resistance training groups with passive control groups showed significant large effects on muscle strength (standard mean difference, –0.84; 95% confidence interval, –1.29 to –0.39; P = .0003), motor impairment (SMD, –0.81; 95% CI, –1.34 to –0.27; P = .003), and mobility and balance (SMD, –1.80; 95% CI, –3.13 to –0.49; P  = .007).

The review also showed significant but small effects on quality of life.

However, the meta-analysis that assessed resistance training versus other physical interventions showed no significant between-group differences.

Ms. Gollan noted that although there were some assessments of cognition and depression, the data were too limited to determine the impact of resistance training on these outcomes.

“We need more studies, especially randomized controlled trials, to investigate the effects of resistance training on nonmotor outcomes like depression and cognition,” she said.

Co-investigator Ann-Kristin Folkerts, PhD, who heads the University of Cologne medical psychology working group, noted that although exercise in general is beneficial for patients with Parkinson’s disease, the choice of activity should take patient preferences into consideration.

It is important that patients choose an exercise they enjoy “because otherwise they probably wouldn’t adhere to the treatment,” Dr. Folkerts said. “It’s important to have fun.”

Specific goals or objectives, such as improving quality of life or balance, should also be considered, she added.
 

Oversimplification?

Commenting on the research, Alice Nieuwboer, PhD, professor in the department of rehabilitation sciences and head of the neurorehabilitation research group at the University of Leuven, Belgium, disagreed that exercise type is of secondary importance in Parkinson’s disease.

“In my view, it’s of primary interest, especially at the mid- to later stages,” said Dr. Nieuwboer, who was not involved with the research.

She noted it is difficult to carry out meta-analyses of resistance training versus other interventions because studies comparing different exercise types “are rather scarce.”

“Another issue is that the dose may differ, so you’re comparing apples with pears,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

She did agree that all patients should exercise, because it is “better than no exercise,” and they should be “free to choose a mode that interests them.”

However, she stressed that exercise requires significant effort on the part of patients with Parkinson’s disease, requires “sustained motivation,” and has to become habit-forming. This makes “exercise targeting” very important, with the target changing over the disease course, Dr. Nieuwboer said.

For example, for a patient at an early stage of the disease who can still move quite well, both resistance training and endurance training can improve fitness and health; but at a mid-stage, it is perhaps better for patients to work on balance and walking quality “to preempt the risk of falls and developing freezing,” she noted.

Later on, as movement becomes very difficult, “the exercise menu is even more restricted,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

The bottom line is that a message saying “any movement counts” is an oversimplification, she added.

The study was funded by a grant from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research. The investigators and Dr. Nieuwboer have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Resistance training can help improve several symptoms of Parkinson’s disease – but is not superior to other physical activities, new research suggests.

A meta-analysis, which included 18 randomized controlled trials and more than 1,000 patients with Parkinson’s disease, showed that those who underwent resistance training had significantly greater improvement in motor impairment, muscle strength, and mobility/balance than their peers who underwent passive or placebo interventions.

However, there was no significant difference between patients who participated in resistance training and those who participated in other active physical interventions, including yoga.

Overall, the results highlight the importance that these patients should participate in some type of physical exercise, said the study’s lead author, Romina Gollan, MSc, an assistant researcher in the division of medical psychology, University of Cologne, Germany. “Patients should definitely be doing exercises, including resistance training, if they want to. But the type of exercise is of secondary interest,” she said.

The findings were presented at the International Congress of Parkinson’s Disease and Movement Disorders.
 

Positive but inconsistent

Previous reviews have suggested resistance training has positive effects on motor function in Parkinson’s disease. However, results from the included studies were inconsistent; and few reviews have examined nonmotor outcomes of resistance training in this population, the investigators noted.

After carrying out a literature search of studies that examined the effects of resistance training in Parkinson’s disease, the researchers included 18 randomized controlled trials in their current review. Among the 1,134 total participants, the mean age was 66 years, the mean Hoehn & Yahr stage was 2.3 (range 0-4), and the mean duration of Parkinson’s disease was 7.5 years.

The investigation was grouped into two meta-analysis groups: one examining resistance training versus a passive or placebo intervention and the other assessing resistance training versus active physical interventions, such as yoga.

During resistance training, participants use their full strength to do a repetition, working muscles to overcome a certain threshold, said Ms. Gollan. In contrast, a placebo intervention is “very low intensity” and involves a much lower threshold, she added.

Passive interventions include such things as stretching where the stimulus “is not high enough for muscles to adapt” and build strength, Ms. Gollan noted.

A passive intervention might also include “treatment as usual” or normal daily routines.
 

Patient preference important

The meta-analysis comparing resistance training groups with passive control groups showed significant large effects on muscle strength (standard mean difference, –0.84; 95% confidence interval, –1.29 to –0.39; P = .0003), motor impairment (SMD, –0.81; 95% CI, –1.34 to –0.27; P = .003), and mobility and balance (SMD, –1.80; 95% CI, –3.13 to –0.49; P  = .007).

The review also showed significant but small effects on quality of life.

However, the meta-analysis that assessed resistance training versus other physical interventions showed no significant between-group differences.

Ms. Gollan noted that although there were some assessments of cognition and depression, the data were too limited to determine the impact of resistance training on these outcomes.

“We need more studies, especially randomized controlled trials, to investigate the effects of resistance training on nonmotor outcomes like depression and cognition,” she said.

Co-investigator Ann-Kristin Folkerts, PhD, who heads the University of Cologne medical psychology working group, noted that although exercise in general is beneficial for patients with Parkinson’s disease, the choice of activity should take patient preferences into consideration.

It is important that patients choose an exercise they enjoy “because otherwise they probably wouldn’t adhere to the treatment,” Dr. Folkerts said. “It’s important to have fun.”

Specific goals or objectives, such as improving quality of life or balance, should also be considered, she added.
 

Oversimplification?

Commenting on the research, Alice Nieuwboer, PhD, professor in the department of rehabilitation sciences and head of the neurorehabilitation research group at the University of Leuven, Belgium, disagreed that exercise type is of secondary importance in Parkinson’s disease.

“In my view, it’s of primary interest, especially at the mid- to later stages,” said Dr. Nieuwboer, who was not involved with the research.

She noted it is difficult to carry out meta-analyses of resistance training versus other interventions because studies comparing different exercise types “are rather scarce.”

“Another issue is that the dose may differ, so you’re comparing apples with pears,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

She did agree that all patients should exercise, because it is “better than no exercise,” and they should be “free to choose a mode that interests them.”

However, she stressed that exercise requires significant effort on the part of patients with Parkinson’s disease, requires “sustained motivation,” and has to become habit-forming. This makes “exercise targeting” very important, with the target changing over the disease course, Dr. Nieuwboer said.

For example, for a patient at an early stage of the disease who can still move quite well, both resistance training and endurance training can improve fitness and health; but at a mid-stage, it is perhaps better for patients to work on balance and walking quality “to preempt the risk of falls and developing freezing,” she noted.

Later on, as movement becomes very difficult, “the exercise menu is even more restricted,” said Dr. Nieuwboer.

The bottom line is that a message saying “any movement counts” is an oversimplification, she added.

The study was funded by a grant from the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research. The investigators and Dr. Nieuwboer have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

SAN DIEGO—Before the pandemic, an estimated one-third of oncologists worldwide suffered a high level of burnout. Cancer physicians face many of the same risk factors as their colleagues—high workloads, lack of autonomy, and no support—along with the added pressure of working in a medical field where patients often die. Then COVID-19 hit, and the burnout crisis got even worse.

This tide can be reversed with a focus on best practices and resilience, a mental health researcher told cancer professionals at the September 2022 annual meeting of the Association of VA Hematology/Oncology. Assessments, long-term interventions, and communication are all key, said Fay J. Hlubocky, PhD, MA, a clinical health psychologist and ethicist at the University of Chicago.

Even simple actions like taking time for “mindful moments” and checking in with a colleague can make a difference, she said. But institutions must act, she said. “Long-term tailored strategies are incredibly important to promote well-being.”

Hlubocky, who led an American Society of Clinical Oncology committee on burnout prior to the pandemic, noted that statistics about burnout in American medicine and oncology specifically, are grim. In 2017, a systematic review and meta-analysis found that significant numbers of oncologists suffered from high burnout (32%), high psychiatric morbidity (27%), depression (at least 12%), and alcohol misuse (as many as 30%).

The pandemic piled on more stressors. In the second half of 2020, researchers interviewed 25 American oncologists in focus groups and found that their “underlying oncologist burnout exacerbated stressors associated with disruptions in care, education, research, financial practice health, and telemedicine. Many feared delays in cancer screening, diagnosis, and treatment [and] strongly considered working part-time or taking early retirement.”

As one participant put it, “everyone is seeing a lot of death and heartache and social isolation and anger that they’re not used to encountering and in very new and different ways.”

Major contributors to oncologist burnout, Hlubocky said, include moral distress, moral injury, and compassion fatigue. “Moral distress occurs when that individual believes he or she knows the right thing to do, but institutional constraints make it really difficult to do what is right,” Hlubocky said. “The individual is aware of the moral problem, acknowledges and takes moral responsibility, makes some moral judgments, but yet—as a result of these constraints — participates in perceived moral wrongdoing.”

Moral injury refers to the damage that can be caused by moral distress or by witnessing acts that violate morals, such as during military service. Compassion fatigue, meanwhile, is defined by the American Stress Institute as “a low level, chronic clouding of caring and concern for others in your life.”

What can be done? Hlubocky highlighted multiple interventions, such as adjustment of work patterns, cognitive behavioral therapy, and training in mindfulness, relaxation, and communication. One strategy is to adopt multiple in-person interventions simultaneously.

But first it’s crucial for administrators to understand the problem in a specific workplace: “You have to know what’s going on in your organization to intervene on it,” she said. “There are multiple tools that have been validated in other health care fields and can be used on a regular basis over time to measure burnout, satisfaction, and engagement.”

For individuals, other strategies include daily check-ins with colleagues to catch signs of stress, she said, as Toronto oncologists started doing amid the pandemic. The check-ins can include simple questions like: How are you doing? How are you feeling? Are you sleeping, eating and exercising? Do you need help?

As for resilience, Hlubocky said it must grow at the individual level. “We can't rely so much on the organization. We need to develop our personal resilience in order for professional resilience to flourish again, and we have to do a lot to protect ourselves. It’s about focusing on the strength of the individual—that empowerment to rise above adversity, that vitality, that engagement, that self-efficacy. It supports health and enhances coping, and it is the key element of physician and clinician well-being.”

Research into resilience offers guidance about how to achieve it, she said. A 2013 German study of 200 physicians found that the most resilient physicians change their attitudes and behaviors, take time off, set boundaries, spend time with family and friends, and ask colleagues for help. And they gained resilience, the study found, by getting older and becoming more experienced.

Hlubocky pointed to several useful resources for burned-out medical professionals, including mindfulness, cognitive behavioral therapy and breathing apps: She highlighted Breathe2Relax, Headspace, MoodGYM, Stress Gym, and guided audio files from the University of California at San Diego. And she said ASCO has resources on combatting burnout and promoting well-being.

Hlubocky has no relevant disclosures.